Natural Right and History (Walgreen Foundation Lectures)

Natural Right and History CHARLES This book R. W A L G R E E N is THE also available UNIVERSITY FOUNDATION ...

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Natural Right and History

CHARLES

This

book

R.

W A L G R E E N

is THE

also

available

UNIVERSITY

FOUNDATION

in

a

LECTURES

clothbound edition from

OF CHICAGO

PRESS

THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS, CHICAGO & LONDON

The University of Toronto Press, Toronto 5, Canada Copyright 1953 by The University of Chicago. All rights reserved. Published 1953. Fifth Impression 1965- First Phoenix Edition 1965. Printed in the United States of America

FOREWORD

F

OR m a n y y e a r s the p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y of responsible government h a s been a neglected field in American pol i t i c a l science. Characteristic of t h i s period w a s the complete rejection o f n a t u r a l l a w , the standard b y w h i c h , t r a d i t i o n a l l y , government relations w e r e judged. L a w and r i g h t s e m a n a t e d from the states. Under democratic regimes it w a s held t h a t m a j o r i t y w i l l created l a w and granted r i g h t s . Beyond these, no restrictions of l a w could bind the sovereign state. In recent y e a r s t h a t peculiar twentieth-century phenomenon—the t o t a l i t a r i a n regime—revived among p o l i t i c a l philosophers the study o f the t r a d i t i o n a l i s t n a t u r a l l a w doctrine, w i t h i t s insistence upon l i m i t e d state a u t h o r i t y .

T h i s w o r k of Professor Strauss, based upon h i s W a l g r e e n Foundation lectures, presents a keen a n a l y s i s of the p h i l o s o p h y of n a t u r a l r i g h t . It is a critique of certain modern p o l i t i c a l theories and an able presentation of basic principles of the t r a d i t i o n a l i s t point of v i e w . J E R O M E KERWIN

Chairman

v

of the

Walgreen

Foundation

PREFACE

T

HIS is an expanded version of six lectures w h i c h I d e l i v ered at the U n i v e r s i t y of C h i c a g o in October, 1949, under the auspices of the C h a r l e s R. W a l g r e e n Foundation. In prep a r i n g the lectures for p u b l i c a t i o n I h a v e tried to preserve their o r i g i n a l form as much as possible.

I am grateful to the Charles R. W a l g r e e n Foundation and e s p e c i a l l y to its c h a i r m a n , Professor Jerome G. K e r w i n , for inducing me to present coherently my observations on the problem of n a t u r a l r i g h t . I am also grateful to the W a l g r e e n Foundation for generous clerical assistance. Some sections of t h i s study h a v e been published p r e v i o u s l y , e i t h e r in t h e i r present form or in a shorter version. Chapter i w a s published in the Review of Politics, October, 1950; chapter ii in Measure, spring, 1951; chapter i i i in Social Research, M a r c h , 1952; chapter v ( A ) in Revue internationale de philosophic, October, 1950; chapter v ( B ) in the Philosophical Review, October, 1952. I w i s h to t h a n k the editor of the Revue internationale de Philosophie for his k i n d permission to reprint. L. S. CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

October 1952

vii

TABLE OF CONTENTS 0 INTRODUCTION

1

I . NATURAL RIGHT AND THE HISTORICAL APPROACH

.

.

.

9

I I . NATURAL RIGHT AND THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN FACTS AND VALUES

35

III.

THE ORIGIN O F THE IDEA O F NATURAL RIGHT

IV.

CLASSIC NATURAL RIGHT

.

.

.

.

81 120

V . MODERN NATURAL RIGHT

165

A.

HOBBES

166

B.

LOCKE

202

V I . THE CRISIS OF MODERN NATURAL RIGHT

252

-

A . ROUSSEAU B

'

B

252 u

R

K

INDEX

E

2

9

4

324

ix

There were two men in one city; the one rich, and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds: But the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe lamb, which he had bought and nourished up: and it grew up together with him, and with his children: it did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. And there came a traveller unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own flock and of his own herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that was come unto him; but took the poor man s lamb, and dressed it for the man that was come to him. Naboth the Jezreelite had a vineyard which was in Jezreel, hard by the palace of Ahab king of Samaria. And Ahab spake unto Naboth, saying, Give me thy vineyard, that I may have it for a garden of herbs, because it is near unto my house: and I will give thee for it a better vineyard than it; or, if it seem good to thee, I will give thee the worth of it in money. And Naboth said to Ahab, The Lord forbid it to me, that I should give the inheritance of my fathers unto thee.

I

T IS proper for more reasons t h a n the most obvious one t h a t I should open t h i s series of Charles R. W a l g r e e n Lectures by q u o t i n g a passage from the Declaration of Independence. The passage h a s frequently been quoted, but, by its w e i g h t and i t s e l e v a t i o n , it is made immune to the degrading effects of the excessive f a m i l i a r i t y w h i c h breeds contempt and of misuse w h i c h breeds disgust. " W e h o l d these truths to be self-evident, t h a t a l l men are created e q u a l , t h a t t h e y are endowed by t h e i r Creator w i t h certain u n a l i e n a b l e R i g h t s , t h a t among these are Life, L i b e r t y , and the pursuit of H a p p i n e s s . " The nation dedicated to t h i s proposition h a s n o w become, no doubt p a r t l y as a consequence of t h i s dedication, t h e most powerful and prosperous of the nations of the e a r t h . Does t h i s nation in its m a t u r i t y s t i l l cherish the faith i n w h i c h i t w a s conceived and raised? Does it s t i l l hold those " t r u t h s to be self-evident"? About a generation a g o , an American diplomat could s t i l l s a y t h a t " t h e n a t u r a l and the divine foundation of the r i g h t s of man . . . i s self-evident t o a l l A m e r i c a n s . " A t about the same time a German scholar could s t i l l describe the difference between German t h o u g h t and t h a t of Western Europe and the United S t a t e s b y s a y i n g t h a t the W e s t s t i l l attached decisive importance to n a t u r a l r i g h t , w h i l e in Germany the v e r y terms " n a t u r a l r i g h t " and " h u m a n i t y " " h a v e n o w become a l m o s t incomprehensible . . . and h a v e lost altogether their o r i g i n a l life and c o l o r . " W h i l e abandoning the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t and t h r o u g h abandoning i t , he continued, German t h o u g h t h a s ' 'created t h e h i s t o r i c a l s e n s e , " and thus w a s led e v e n t u a l l y 1

2

N A T U R A L RIGHT A N D HISTORY 1

to unqualified r e l a t i v i s m . W h a t w a s a t o l e r a b l y accurate description of German thought twenty-seven y e a r s a g o w o u l d n o w appear to be true of Western t h o u g h t in general. It w o u l d not be the first time t h a t a nation, defeated on the battlefield and, as it w e r e , a n n i h i l a t e d as a p o l i t i c a l being, h a s deprived its conquerors of the most sublime fruit of v i c t o r y by imposing on them the y o k e of its o w n t h o u g h t . W h a t e v e r m i g h t be true of the t h o u g h t of the American people, c e r t a i n l y American social science h a s adopted the v e r y a t t i t u d e t o w a r d n a t u r a l r i g h t w h i c h , a generation a g o , could s t i l l be described, w i t h some p l a u s i b i l i t y , as characteristic of German t h o u g h t . The m a j o r i t y among the learned w h o s t i l l adhere to the principles of the Declaration of Independence interpret these principles not as expressions of n a t u r a l r i g h t but as an i d e a l , if not as an i d e o l o g y or a m y t h . Present-day A m e r i c a n social science, as far as it is not R o m a n C a t h o l i c social science, is dedicated to the proposition t h a t a l l men are endowed by the e v o l u t i o n a r y process or by a m y s t e r i o u s fate w i t h m a n y k i n d s of urges and aspirations, but c e r t a i n l y w i t h no n a t u r a l right. Nevertheless, the need for n a t u r a l right is as evident t o d a y as it h a s been for centuries and even m i l l e n n i a . To reject natur a l r i g h t i s tantamount t o s a y i n g t h a t a l l r i g h t i s positive r i g h t , and t h i s means t h a t w h a t is right is determined exclus i v e l y by the l e g i s l a t o r s and the courts of the various countries. N o w it is o b v i o u s l y meaningful, and sometimes even necessary, to speak of " u n j u s t " l a w s or " u n j u s t " decisions. In passing such judgments we i m p l y t h a t there is a standard of r i g h t and w r o n g independent of positive right and h i g h e r t h a n positive r i g h t : a standard w i t h reference to w h i c h we are able to judge of positive right. M a n y people t o d a y h o l d the v i e w t h a t the standard in question is in the best case nothing but the 1. "Ernst Troeltsch on Natural Law and Humanity," in Otto Gierke, Natural Law and the Theory of Society, translated with Introduction by Ernest Barker, I (Cambridge: At the University Press, 1934), 201-22.

INTRODUCTION

3

ideal adopted by our society or our " c i v i l i z a t i o n " and embodied in i t s w a y of life or i t s i n s t i t u t i o n s . But, according to the same v i e w , a l l societies h a v e t h e i r i d e a l s , cannibal societies no less t h a n c i v i l i z e d ones. If principles are sufficiently justified by the fact t h a t t h e y are accepted by a society, the principles of cannibalism are as defensible or sound as those of c i v i l i z e d life. From t h i s point of v i e w , the former principles can c e r t a i n l y not be rejected as s i m p l y bad. And, since the ideal of our society is a d m i t t e d l y c h a n g i n g , n o t h i n g except dull and stale h a b i t could prevent us from p l a c i d l y accepting a change in the direction of c a n n i b a l i s m . If there is no standard h i g h e r t h a n the i d e a l of our society, we are u t t e r l y unable to t a k e a c r i t i c a l distance from t h a t i d e a l . But the mere fact t h a t we can raise the question of the w o r t h of the ideal of our soc i e t y s h o w s t h a t there is something in m a n t h a t is not a l together in s l a v e r y to h i s society, and therefore t h a t we are a b l e , and hence o b l i g e d , to l o o k for a standard w i t h reference to w h i c h we can judge of the i d e a l s of our o w n as w e l l as of a n y other society. T h a t standard cannot be found in the needs of the v a r i o u s societies, for the societies and their parts h a v e m a n y needs t h a t conflict w i t h one a n o t h e r : the problem of priorities arises. T h i s problem cannot be solved in a r a t i o n a l manner if we do not h a v e a standard w i t h reference to w h i c h we can d i s t i n g u i s h between genuine needs and fancied needs and discern the h i e r a r c h y of the v a r i o u s types of genuine needs. The problem posed by the conflicting needs of society cannot be solved if we do not possess k n o w l e d g e of n a t u r a l right. It w o u l d seem, then, t h a t the rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t is bound to l e a d to disastrous consequences. And it is obvious t h a t consequences w h i c h are regarded as disastrous by m a n y men and even by some of the most v o c a l opponents of n a t u r a l r i g h t do f o l l o w from the contemporary rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t . Our social science m a y m a k e us v e r y w i s e or clever as

4

NATURAL RIGHT A N D HISTORY

regards the means for a n y objectives we m i g h t choose. It adm i t s being unable to help us in d i s c r i m i n a t i n g between l e g i t i m a t e and i l l e g i t i m a t e , between just and unjust, objectives. Such a science is instrumental and n o t h i n g but instrumental: it is born to be the h a n d m a i d of a n y p o w e r s or a n y interests t h a t be. W h a t M a c h i a v e l l i d i d a p p a r e n t l y , our social science w o u l d a c t u a l l y do if it did not prefer—only God k n o w s w h y — generous l i b e r a l i s m to consistency: n a m e l y , to g i v e advice w i t h e q u a l competence and a l a c r i t y t o t y r a n t s a s w e l l a s t o free peoples. According to our social science, we can be or become w i s e in a l l matters of secondary importance, but we h a v e to be resigned to utter ignorance in the most important respect: w e cannot h a v e any k n o w l e d g e regarding the u l t i m a t e principles of our choices, i . e . , r e g a r d i n g their soundness or unsoundness; our u l t i m a t e principles have no other support t h a n our a r b i t r a r y and hence blind preferences. We are then in the position of beings w h o are sane and sober w h e n e n g a g e d in t r i v i a l business and w h o g a m b l e l i k e madmen w h e n confronted w i t h serious issues—retail s a n i t y and w h o l e s a l e madness. If our principles have no other support than our blind preferences, e v e r y t h i n g a man is w i l l i n g to dare w i l l be per2

2. "Vollends sinnlos ist die Behauptung, dass in der Despotie keine Rechtsordnung bestehe, sondern Willkür des Despoten herrsche . . . stellt doch auch der despotisch regierte Staat irgendeine Ordnung menschlichen Verhaltens dar. . . . Diese Ordnung ist eben die Rechtsordnung. Ihr den Charakter des Rechts abzusprechen, ist nur eine naturrechtliche Naivität oder Überhebung. . . . Was als Willkür gedeutet wird, ist nur die rechtliche Möglichkeit des Autokraten, jede Entscheidung an sich zu ziehen, die Tätigkeit der untergeordneten Organe bedingungslos zu bestimmen und einmal gesetzte Normen jederzeit mit allgemeiner oder nur besonderer Geltung aufzuheben oder abzuändern. Ein solcher Zustand ist ein Rechtszustand, auch wenn er als nachteilig empfunden wird. Doch hat er auch seine guten Seiten. Der im modernen Rechtsstaat gar nicht seltene Ruf nach Diktatur zeigt dies ganz deutlich" (Hans Kelsen, Algemeine Staatslehre [Berlin, 1925], pp. 335-36). Since Kelsen has not changed his attitude toward natural right, I cannot imagine why he has omitted this instructive passage from the English translation (General Theory of Law and State [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1949], p. 300).

INTRODUCTION

5

m i s s i b l e . The contemporary rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t leads to n i h i l i s m — n a y , i t i s identical w i t h n i h i l i s m . In spite of t h i s , generous l i b e r a l s v i e w the abandonment of n a t u r a l r i g h t not o n l y w i t h p l a c i d i t y but w i t h relief. T h e y appear to believe t h a t our i n a b i l i t y to acquire a n y genuine k n o w l e d g e of w h a t is i n t r i n s i c a l l y good or r i g h t compels us to be tolerant of every opinion about good or r i g h t or to recognize a l l preferences or a l l " c i v i l i z a t i o n s " as e q u a l l y respectable. O n l y u n l i m i t e d tolerance i s i n accordance w i t h reason. But t h i s l e a d s to the admission of a r a t i o n a l or n a t u r a l r i g h t of every preference t h a t is tolerant of other preferences or, n e g a t i v e l y expressed, of a r a t i o n a l or n a t u r a l r i g h t to reject or condemn a l l intolerant o r a l l " a b s o l u t i s t " positions. The l a t t e r must be condemned because t h e y are based on a demonstrably false premise, n a m e l y , t h a t men can k n o w w h a t i s good. A t the bottom of the passionate rejection of a l l " a b s o l u t e s , " we discern the recognition of a n a t u r a l r i g h t or, more precisely, of t h a t p a r t i c u l a r interpretation of n a t u r a l r i g h t according to w h i c h the one t h i n g needful is respect for d i v e r s i t y or i n d i v i d u a l i t y . But there is a tension between the respect for d i v e r s i t y or i n d i v i d u a l i t y and the recognition of n a t u r a l r i g h t . W h e n l i b e r a l s became impatient of the absolute l i m i t s to d i v e r s i t y or i n d i v i d u a l i t y t h a t are imposed even by the most l i b e r a l version of n a t u r a l r i g h t , t h e y h a d to m a k e a choice between n a t u r a l r i g h t and t h e uninhibited c u l t i v a t i o n of i n d i v i d u a l i t y . T h e y chose the l a t t e r . Once t h i s step w a s t a k e n , tolerance appeared as one v a l u e or i d e a l among m a n y , and not i n t r i n s i c a l l y superior to i t s opposite. In other w o r d s , intolerance appeared as a v a l u e e q u a l in d i g n i t y to tolerance. But it is p r a c t i c a l l y i m possible to l e a v e it at the e q u a l i t y of a l l preferences or choices. If the u n e q u a l r a n k of choices cannot be traced to the u n e q u a l r a n k of t h e i r objectives, it must be traced to the unequal r a n k of the acts of choosing; and t h i s means e v e n t u a l l y t h a t genuine choice, as distinguished from spurious or despicable choice, is

6

NATURAL

RIGHT

AND

HISTORY

nothing but resolute or d e a d l y serious decision. Such a decision, h o w e v e r , is a k i n to intolerance r a t h e r t h a n to tolerance. Liberal r e l a t i v i s m h a s i t s roots i n the n a t u r a l r i g h t t r a d i t i o n of tolerance or in the notion t h a t everyone has a n a t u r a l r i g h t to the pursuit of happiness as he understands happiness; but in itself it is a seminary of intolerance. Once we realize t h a t the principles of our actions h a v e no other support t h a n our blind choice, we r e a l l y do not believe in them a n y more. We cannot w h o l e h e a r t e d l y act upon them a n y more. We cannot l i v e a n y more as responsible beings. In order to l i v e , we h a v e to silence t h e e a s i l y silenced voice of reason, w h i c h t e l l s us t h a t our principles are in themselves as good or as bad as a n y other principles. The more we c u l t i v a t e reason, the more we c u l t i v a t e n i h i l i s m : the less are we able to be l o y a l members of society. The inescapable practical consequence of n i h i l i s m is fanatical obscurantism. The h a r s h experience of t h i s consequence h a s led to a renewed general interest in n a t u r a l right. But t h i s v e r y fact must m a k e us p a r t i c u l a r l y cautious. Indignation is a bad counselor. Our i n d i g n a t i o n proves at best t h a t we are w e l l meaning. It does not prove t h a t we are r i g h t . Our aversion to fanatical obscurantism must not l e a d us to embrace n a t u r a l r i g h t in a spirit of fanatical obscurantism. Let us beware of the danger of pursuing a Socratic g o a l w i t h the m e a n s , and the temper, of T h r a s y m a c h u s . C e r t a i n l y , the seriousness of the need of natural right does not prove t h a t the need can be satisfied. A w i s h is not a fact. Even by proving t h a t a certain v i e w is i n d i s pensable for l i v i n g w e l l , one proves m e r e l y t h a t the v i e w in question is a s a l u t a r y m y t h : one does not prove it to be true. U t i l i t y and t r u t h are t w o e n t i r e l y different t h i n g s . The fact t h a t reason compels us to go beyond t h e ideal of our society does not y e t guarantee t h a t in t a k i n g t h i s step we s h a l l not be confronted w i t h a v o i d or w i t h a m u l t i p l i c i t y of incompatible and e q u a l l y justifiable principles o f " n a t u r a l r i g h t . ' ' The g r a v -

INTRODUCTION

7

i t y of the issue imposes upon us the d u t y of a detached, theor e t i c a l , i m p a r t i a l discussion. The problem of natural r i g h t is t o d a y a m a t t e r of recollection r a t h e r t h a n of actual k n o w l e d g e . We are therefore in need of h i s t o r i c a l studies in order to familiarize ourselves w i t h the w h o l e c o m p l e x i t y of the issue. We h a v e for some time to become students of w h a t is called the " h i s t o r y of i d e a s . " Cont r a r y to a popular notion, t h i s w i l l a g g r a v a t e rather t h a n remove the difficulty of i m p a r t i a l treatment. To quote Lord Acton: " F e w discoveries are more i r r i t a t i n g t h a n those w h i c h expose the pedigree of ideas. Sharp definitions and unsparing a n a l y s i s w o u l d displace the v e i l beneath w h i c h society d i s sembles i t s divisions, w o u l d m a k e p o l i t i c a l disputes too v i o lent for compromise and p o l i t i c a l a l l i a n c e s too precarious for use, and w o u l d embitter p o l i t i c s w i t h a l l the passions of social and r e l i g i o u s s t r i f e . " We can overcome t h i s danger o n l y by l e a v i n g the dimension i n w h i c h p o l i t i c restraint i s the o n l y protection a g a i n s t the hot and blind zeal of p a r t i s a n s h i p . The issue of n a t u r a l r i g h t presents itself today as a m a t t e r of p a r t y a l l e g i a n c e . L o o k i n g around us, w e see t w o h o s t i l e camps, h e a v i l y fortified and s t r i c t l y guarded. One is occupied by the l i b e r a l s of various descriptions, the other by the C a t h o l i c and non-Catholic disciples of Thomas A q u i n a s . But both armies and, in a d d i t i o n , those w h o prefer to sit on the fences or hide t h e i r heads in the sand are, to h e a p metaphor on m e t a phor, in the same boat. T h e y a l l are modern men. We a l l are in the g r i p of the same difficulty. N a t u r a l r i g h t in its classic form is connected w i t h a t e l e o l o g i c a l v i e w of the universe. A l l n a t u r a l beings h a v e a n a t u r a l end, a n a t u r a l destiny, w h i c h determines w h a t k i n d of operation is good for them. In the case of m a n , reason is required for discerning these operations: reason determines w h a t i s b y nature r i g h t w i t h u l t i m a t e r e g a r d to m a n ' s n a t u r a l end. The t e l e o l o g i c a l v i e w of the universe, of w h i c h the t e l e o l o g i c a l v i e w of m a n forms a part, w o u l d seem

10

NATURAL RIGHT AND HISTORY

tice obtain at different times and in different nations. It is absurd to c l a i m t h a t the discovery of a s t i l l greater number of such notions by modern students h a s in a n y w a y affected the fundamental issue. Above a l l , k n o w l e g e of the indefinitely l a r g e v a r i e t y of notions of r i g h t and w r o n g is só far from being incompatible w i t h the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t t h a t it is the essent i a l condition for the emergence of t h a t i d e a : r e a l i z a t i o n of the v a r i e t y of notions of r i g h t is tht incentive for the quest for n a t u r a l r i g h t . If the rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t in the name of h i s t o r y is to h a v e a n y significance, it must h a v e a basis other t h a n h i s t o r i c a l evidence. Its basis must be a philosophic critique of the p o s s i b i l i t y , or of the k n o w a b i l i t y , of n a t u r a l r i g h t — a critique somehow connected w i t h " h i s t o r y . " The conclusion from the v a r i e t y of notions of r i g h t to the nonexistence of n a t u r a l r i g h t is as old as p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y itself. P o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y seems to begin w i t h the contention t h a t the v a r i e t y of notions of r i g h t proves the nonexistence of n a t u r a l r i g h t or the conventional character of a l l r i g h t . We s h a l l c a l l t h i s v i e w " c o n v e n t i o n a l i s m . " T o clarify the meaning of the present-day rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t in the name of h i s t o r y , we must first grasp the specific difference between conv e n t i o n a l i s m , on the one h a n d , and " t h e h i s t o r i c a l s e n s e " or " t h e h i s t o r i c a l consciousness" characteristic of nineteenthand twentieth-century t h o u g h t , on the o t h e r . 2

3

b

2. Aristotle Eth. Nic. 1134 24-27. 3. The legal positivism of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries cannot be simply identified with either conventionalism or historicism. It seems, however, that it derives its strength ultimately from the generally accepted historicist premise (see particularly Karl Bergbohm, Jurisprudenz und Rechtsphilosophic, I [Leipzig, 1892], 409 ff.). Bergbohm's strict argument against the possibility of natural right (as distinguished from the argument that is meant merely to show the disastrous consequences of natural right for the positive legal order) is based on "the undeniable truth that nothing eternal and absolute exists except the One Whom man cannot comprehend, but only divine in a spirit of faith" (p. 416 n . ) , that is, on the assumption that "the standards with reference to which we pass judgment on the historical, positive law . . . are themselves absolutely the progeny of their time and arc always historical and relative" (p. 450 n . ) .

N A T U R A L RIGHT AND HISTORICAL APPROACH

11

Conventionalism presupposed that the distinction between nature and convention is the most fundamental of a l l distinctions. It i m p l i e d t h a t nature is of incomparably h i g h e r d i g n i t y t h a n convention or the fiat of society, or t h a t nature is t h e norm. The thesis t h a t r i g h t and justice are conventional meant t h a t r i g h t and justice h a v e no basis in nature, t h a t t h e y are u l t i m a t e l y a g a i n s t nature, and t h a t t h e y have their ground in a r b i t r a r y decisions, e x p l i c i t or i m p l i c i t , of communities: t h e y h a v e no basis but some k i n d of agreement, and agreement m a y produce peace but it cannot produce truth. The adherents of the modern h i s t o r i c a l v i e w , on the other hand, reject as m y t h i c a l the premise t h a t nature is the norm; t h e y reject the premise t h a t nature is of h i g h e r d i g n i t y than a n y w o r k s of man. On the contrary, e i t h e r t h e y conceive of man and his w o r k s , his v a r y ing notions of justice included, as e q u a l l y n a t u r a l as a l l other real t h i n g s , or else t h e y assert a basic dualism between the r e a l m of nature and the r e a l m of freedom or h i s t o r y . In the l a t t e r case t h e y i m p l y t h a t the w o r l d of man, of human creat i v i t y , is e x a l t e d far above nature. A c c o r d i n g l y , t h e y do not conceive of the notions of r i g h t and w r o n g as fundamentally a r b i t r a r y . T h e y try to discover their causes; t h e y t r y to m a k e i n t e l l i g i b l e their variety and sequence; in tracing them to acts of freedom, t h e y insist on the fundamental difference between freedom and arbitrariness. W h a t is the significance of the difference between the old and the modern v i e w ? Conventionalism is a p a r t i c u l a r form of classical p h i l o s o p h y . There are obviously profound differences between conventionalism and the position taken by P l a t o , for example. But the classical opponents agree in regard to the most fundamental point: both a d m i t t h a t the distinction between nature and convention is fundamental. For t h i s d i s tinction is implied in the idea of p h i l o s o p h y . Philosophizing means to ascend from the cave to the l i g h t of the sun, t h a t i s , to the truth. The cave is the w o r l d of opinion as opposed to

12


k n o w l e d g e . Opinion i s e s s e n t i a l l y v a r i a b l e . M e n cannot l i v e , t h a t i s , t h e y cannot l i v e together, if opinions are not stabilized by social fiat. Opinion thus becomes a u t h o r i t a t i v e opinion or public dogma or Weltanschauung. Philosophizing means, then, to ascend from public dogma to e s s e n t i a l l y p r i v a t e k n o w l e d g e . The public dogma is o r i g i n a l l y an inadequate attempt to answer the question of the all-comprehensive truth or of the eternal order. A n y inadequate v i e w of the eternal order i s , from the point of v i e w of the eternal order, accidental or a r b i t r a r y ; it o w e s its v a l i d i t y not to its intrinsic truth but to social fiat or convention. The fundamental premise of convent i o n a l i s m i s , then, n o t h i n g other t h a n the idea of p h i l o s o p h y as the attempt to grasp the eternal. The modern opponents of n a t u r a l r i g h t reject precisely t h i s idea. According to them, a l l human t h o u g h t is historical and hence unable ever to grasp a n y t h i n g eternal. W h e r e a s , according to the ancients, philosophizing means to l e a v e the cave, according to our contemporaries a l l philosophizing e s s e n t i a l l y belongs to a " h i s torical w o r l d , " " c u l t u r e , " " c i v i l i z a t i o n , " " W e l t a n s c h a u u n g , " t h a t i s , t o w h a t Plato h a d c a l l e d the cave. W e s h a l l c a l l this view "historicism." 4

We h a v e noted before that the contemporary rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t in the name of h i s t o r y is based, not on historical evidence, but on a philosophic critique of the p o s s i b i l i t y or k n o w a b i l i t y of n a t u r a l r i g h t . We note n o w t h a t the p h i l o sophic critique in question is not p a r t i c u l a r l y a critique of n a t u r a l r i g h t or of moral principles in general. It is a critique of human t h o u g h t as such. Nevertheless, the critique of natur a l right p l a y e d an important role in the formation of h i s toricism. Historicism emerged in the nineteenth century under the protection of the belief t h a t k n o w l e d g e , or at least d i v i n a t i o n , of the eternal is possible. But it g r a d u a l l y undermined the belief w h i c h h a d sheltered it in its infancy. It suddenly appeared B

B

4. Plato Minos 3 1 4 1 0 - 3 1 5 2 .

NATURAL RIGHT AND HISTORICAL APPROACH

13

w i t h i n our lifetime in i t s mature form. The genesis of h i s t o r i cism is i n a d e q u a t e l y understood. In the present state of our k n o w l e d g e , it is difficult to s a y at w h a t point in the modern development the decisive break occurred w i t h the " u n h i s t o r i c a l " approach t h a t prevailed i n a l l e a r l i e r p h i l o s o p h y . For the purpose of a summary orientation it is convenient to start w i t h the moment w h e n the previously subterraneous movement came to the surface and began to dominate the social sciences in broad d a y l i g h t . T h a t moment w a s the emergence of the h i s t o r i c a l school. The t h o u g h t s t h a t guided the h i s t o r i c a l school w e r e v e r y far from being of a p u r e l y theoretical character. The h i s t o r i c a l school emerged in reaction to the French R e v o l u t i o n and to the n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrines t h a t h a d prepared t h a t c a t a c l y s m . In opposing the violent break w i t h the past, the h i s t o r i c a l school insisted on the w i s d o m and on the need of preserving or continuing the t r a d i t i o n a l order. T h i s could have been done w i t h o u t a critique of n a t u r a l r i g h t as such. C e r t a i n l y , premodern n a t u r a l r i g h t did not sanction reckless appeal from the established order, or from w h a t w a s a c t u a l here and n o w , to the n a t u r a l or r a t i o n a l order. Y e t the founders of the h i s t o r i c a l school seemed to h a v e realized somehow t h a t the acceptance of a n y universal or abstract principles h a s necessarily a revolut i o n a r y , disturbing, unsettling effect as far as t h o u g h t is concerned and t h a t t h i s effect is w h o l l y independent of w h e t h e r the principles in question sanction, g e n e r a l l y speaking, a conservative or a r e v o l u t i o n a r y course of action. For the recognition of universal principles forces man to judge the established order, or w h a t is a c t u a l here and n o w , in the l i g h t of the natu r a l or r a t i o n a l order; and w h a t is a c t u a l here and n o w is more l i k e l y t h a n not to fall short of the universal and unchangeable norm. The recognition of universal principles thus tends to 6

5. "• • . [les] imperfections [des États], s'ils en ont, comme la seule diversité, qui est entre eux suffit pour assurer que plusieurs en ont . . . " (Descartes, Discours de la méthode, Part II).

14

prevent w i t h , or them. It It tends earth.

NATURAL RIGHT AND HISTORY men from w h o l e h e a r t e d l y identifying themselves accepting, the social order t h a t fate h a s a l l o t t e d to tends to a liena te them from their place on the e a r t h . to m a k e them strangers, and even strangers on the

By denying the significance, if not the existence, of universal norms, the eminent conservatives w h o founded the h i s t o r i c a l school w e r e , in fact, continuing and even sharpening the r e v o l u t i o n a r y effort of their adversaries. T h a t effort w a s inspired by a specific notion of the n a t u r a l . It w a s directed a g a i n s t both the unnatural or conventional and the supran a t u r a l or o t h e r w o r l d l y . The revolutionists assumed, we m a y s a y , t h a t the natural is a l w a y s i n d i v i d u a l and t h a t therefore the uniform is unnatural or conventional. The human i n d i v i d ual w a s to be liberated or to liberate himself so t h a t he could pursue not just his happiness but h i s o w n version of happiness. This meant, h o w e v e r , t h a t one universal and uniform goal w a s set up for a l l men: the n a t u r a l r i g h t of each i n d i v i d u a l w a s a r i g h t uniformly belonging to every man as man. But uniformi t y w a s said to be unnatural and hence bad. It w a s e v i d e n t l y impossible to i n d i v i d u a l i z e r i g h t s in full accordance w i t h the natural diversity of i n d i v i d u a l s . The o n l y k i n d s of r i g h t s t h a t were neither incompatible w i t h social life nor uniform w e r e " h i s t o r i c a l " r i g h t s : r i g h t s of Englishmen, for example, in contradistinction to the r i g h t s of m a n . L o c a l and temporal v a r i e t y seemed to supply a safe and solid middle ground between antisocial i n d i v i d u a l i s m and unnatural u n i v e r s a l i t y . The historical school did not discover the local and temporal v a r i e t y of notions of justice: the obvious does not h a v e to be discovered. The utmost one could s a y is t h a t it discovered the v a l u e , the charm, the inwardness of the local and temporal or t h a t it discovered the superiority of the local and temporal to the universal. It w o u l d be more cautious to s a y t h a t , radicalizing the tendency of men l i k e Rousseau, the historical school asserted

N A T U R A L RIGHT AND HISTORICAL APPROACH

15

t h a t the l o c a l and the temporal h a v e a h i g h e r v a l u e t h a n the universal. As a consequence, w h a t claimed to be u n i v e r s a l appeared e v e n t u a l l y as derivative from something l o c a l l y and t e m p o r a l l y confined, as the local and temporal in statu evanescendi. The n a t u r a l l a w teaching of the Stoics, for example, w a s l i k e l y to appear as a mere reflex of a p a r t i c u l a r temporal state of a p a r t i c u l a r local society—of the dissolution of the Greek city. The effort of the revolutionists w a s directed a g a i n s t a l l o t h e r w o r l d l i n e s s or transcendence. Transcendence is not a preserve of revealed r e l i g i o n . In a v e r y important sense it w a s implied in the o r i g i n a l m e a n i n g of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y as the quest for the n a t u r a l or best p o l i t i c a l order. The best regime, as Plato and A r i s t o t l e understood i t , i s , and is meant to be, for the most part, different from w h a t is a c t u a l here and n o w or beyond a l l a c t u a l orders. T h i s v i e w of the transcendence of the best p o l i t i c a l order w a s profoundly modified by the w a y in w h i c h " p r o g r e s s " w a s understood i n the eighteenth century, but it w a s s t i l l preserved in t h a t eighteenth-century notion. O t h e r w i s e , the theorists of the French R e v o l u t i o n could not h a v e condemned a l l or almost a l l social orders w h i c h h a d ever been in existence. By denying the significance, if not the e x istence, of u n i v e r s a l norms, the h i s t o r i c a l school destroyed the o n l y solid basis of a l l efforts to transcend the a c t u a l . H i s toricism can therefore be described as a much more extreme form of modern t h i s - w o r l d l i n e s s t h a n the French r a d i c a l i s m of the e i g h t e e n t h century h a d been. It c e r t a i n l y acted as if it intended to m a k e men a b s o l u t e l y at home in " t h i s w o r l d . " 6

6. As regards the tension between the concern with the history of the human race and the concern with life after death, see Kant's "Idea for a universal history with cosmopolitan intent," proposition 9 (The Philosophy of Kant, ed. C. J. Friedrich ["Modern L i b r a r y " ] , p. 130). Consider also the thesis of Herder, whose influence on the historical thought of the nineteenth century is well known, that "the five acts are in this life" (see M. Mendelssohn, Gesammelte Schrijten, Jubilaums-Ausgabc, III, 1, pp. x x x xxxii.)

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Since a n y universal principles m a k e at least most men potent i a l l y homeless, it depreciated universal principles in favor of historical principles. It believed t h a t , by understanding their past, their h e r i t a g e , their h i s t o r i c a l s i t u a t i o n , men could arrive at principles t h a t w o u l d be as objective as those of the older, prehistoricist p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y h a d claimed to be and, in a d d i t i o n , w o u l d not be abstract or universal and hence harmful to w i s e action or to a t r u l y h u m a n life, but concrete or particular—principles fitting the p a r t i c u l a r a g e or particul a r nation, principles relative to the p a r t i c u l a r a g e or p a r t i c u l a r nation. In t r y i n g to discover standards w h i c h , w h i l e being object i v e , w e r e r e l a t i v e to p a r t i c u l a r h i s t o r i c a l situations, the h i s torical school assigned to h i s t o r i c a l studies a much greater importance t h a n t h e y had ever possessed. Its notion of w h a t one could expect from historical studies w a s , however, not the outcome of h i s t o r i c a l studies but of assumptions that stemmed d i r e c t l y or i n d i r e c t l y from the n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine of the e i g h t e e n t h century. The historical school assumed the existence of folk m i n d s , t h a t i s , it assumed t h a t nations or ethnic groups are n a t u r a l u n i t s , or it assumed the existence of general l a w s of h i s t o r i c a l evolution, or it combined both assumptions. It soon appeared t h a t there w a s a conflict between the assumptions t h a t h a d given the decisive impetus to h i s t o r i c a l studies and the results, as w e l l as the requirements, of genuine historical understanding. In the moment these assumptions w e r e abandoned, the infancy of historicism came to its end. Historicism n o w appeared as a p a r t i c u l a r form of posit i v i s m , t h a t i s , of the school w h i c h held t h a t t h e o l o g y and m e t a p h y s i c s had been superseded once and for a l l by positive science or w h i c h identified genuine k n o w l e d g e of r e a l i t y w i t h the k n o w l e d g e supplied by the empirical sciences. Positivism proper h a d defined " e m p i r i c a l " in terms of the procedures of the n a t u r a l sciences. But there w a s a g l a r i n g contrast between


17

the manner in w h i c h h i s t o r i c a l subjects w e r e treated by posit i v i s m proper and the manner in w h i c h t h e y w e r e treated by the h i s t o r i a n s w h o r e a l l y proceeded e m p i r i c a l l y . Precisely in the interests of empirical k n o w l e d g e it became necessary to insist t h a t the methods of n a t u r a l science be not considered a u t h o r i t a t i v e for h i s t o r i c a l studies. In a d d i t i o n , w h a t " s c i e n tific" p s y c h o l o g y and sociology h a d to s a y about man proved to be t r i v i a l and poor if compared w i t h w h a t could be learned from the great historians. Thus h i s t o r y w a s t h o u g h t to supply the o n l y e m p i r i c a l , and hence the o n l y solid, k n o w l e d g e of w h a t is t r u l y h u m a n , of m a n as m a n : of h i s greatness and misery. Since a l l human pursuits start from and return to m a n , the e m p i r i c a l study of h u m a n i t y could seem to be justified in c l a i m i n g a h i g h e r d i g n i t y than a l l other studies of r e a l i t y . H i s t o r y — h i s t o r y divorced from a l l dubious or m e t a p h y s i c a l assumptions—became the h i g h e s t a u t h o r i t y . But h i s t o r y proved utterly unable to keep the promise t h a t h a d been h e l d out by the h i s t o r i c a l school. The h i s t o r i c a l school h a d succeeded in discrediting universal or abstract principles; it h a d t h o u g h t t h a t h i s t o r i c a l studies w o u l d reveal part i c u l a r or concrete standards. Y e t the unbiased historian h a d to confess h i s i n a b i l i t y to derive a n y norms from h i s t o r y : no objective norms remained. The historical school h a d obscured the fact t h a t p a r t i c u l a r or h i s t o r i c a l standards can become a u t h o r i t a t i v e o n l y on the basis of a universal principle w h i c h imposes an o b l i g a t i o n on the i n d i v i d u a l to accept, or to b o w t o , the standards suggested by the tradition or the s i t u a t i o n w h i c h h a s molded h i m . Yet n o universal principle w i l l ever sanction the acceptance of every historical standard or of every victorious cause: to conform w i t h tradition or to jump on " t h e w a v e of the f u t u r e " is not o b v i o u s l y better, and it is c e r t a i n l y not a l w a y s better t h a n to burn w h a t one h a s w o r s h i p e d or to resist the " t r e n d of h i s t o r y . " Thus a l l standards suggested by h i s t o r y as such proved to be fundamentally ambiguous and

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therefore unfit to be considered standards. To the unbiased h i s torian, " t h e historical process" revealed itself as the meaningless w e b spun by w h a t men did, produced, and t h o u g h t , no more t h a n by u n m i t i g a t e d chance—a t a l e told by an idiot. The historical standards, the standards t h r o w n up by t h i s meaningless process, could no longer c l a i m to be h a l l o w e d by sacred powers behind t h a t process. The o n l y standards t h a t remained were of a p u r e l y subjective character, standards t h a t h a d no other support t h a n the free choice of the i n d i v i d u a l . No objective criterion henceforth a l l o w e d the distinction between good and bad choices. Historicism culminated in n i h i l i s m . The attempt to m a k e man a b s o l u t e l y at home in t h i s w o r l d ended in m a n ' s becoming a b s o l u t e l y homeless. The v i e w t h a t " t h e historical p r o c e s s " is a meaningless w e b or t h a t there is no such t h i n g as the " h i s t o r i c a l process" w a s not novel. It w a s fundamentally the c l a s s i c a l v i e w . In spite of considerable opposition from different quarters, it w a s s t i l l powerful in the e i g h t e e n t h century. The n i h i l i s t i c consequence of historicism could h a v e suggested a return to the older, prehistoricist v i e w . But the manifest failure of the practical c l a i m of historicism, t h a t it could supply life w i t h a better, a more solid, guidance t h a n the prehistoricist t h o u g h t of the past h a d done, did not destroy the prestige of the alleged theoretical ins i g h t due to historicism. The mood created by historicism and its practical failure w a s interpreted as the unheard-of experience of the true situation of man as man—of a situation w h i c h earlier m a n h a d concealed from himself by believing in u n i versal and unchangeable principles. In opposition to the earlier v i e w , the historicists continued to ascribe decisive importance to t h a t v i e w of man t h a t arises out of h i s t o r i c a l studies, w h i c h as such are p a r t i c u l a r l y and p r i m a r i l y concerned not w i t h the permanent and universal but w i t h the v a r i a b l e and unique. History as h i s t o r y seems to present to us the depressing spectacle of a disgraceful v a r i e t y of t h o u g h t s and beliefs and, above


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a l l , of the p a s s i n g - a w a y of every t h o u g h t and belief ever h e l d by men. It seems to s h o w t h a t a l l h u m a n t h o u g h t is dependent on unique h i s t o r i c a l contexts t h a t are preceded by more or less different contexts and t h a t emerge out of their antecedents in a fundamentally unpredictable w a y : the foundations of h u m a n t h o u g h t are l a i d by unpredictable experiences or decisions. Since a l l h u m a n t h o u g h t belongs to specific h i s t o r i c a l situations, a l l h u m a n t h o u g h t is bound to perish w i t h the s i t u a t i o n to w h i c h it belongs and to be superseded by n e w , unpredictable t h o u g h t s . The historicist contention presents itself t o d a y as a m p l y supported by historical evidence, or even as expressing an obvious fact. But if the fact is so obvious, it is hard to see h o w it could h a v e escaped the notice of the most thoughtful men of the past. As regards the h i s t o r i c a l evidence, it is c l e a r l y insufficient to support the historicist contention. History teaches us t h a t a g i v e n v i e w h a s been abandoned in favor of another v i e w by a l l men, or by a l l competent men, or perhaps o n l y by the most vocal men; it does not teach us w h e t h e r the change w a s sound or w h e t h e r the rejected v i e w deserved to be rejected. O n l y an i m p a r t i a l a n a l y s i s of the v i e w in question—an a n a l y s i s t h a t is not dazzled by the v i c t o r y or stunned by the defeat of the adherents of the v i e w concerned—could teach us a n y t h i n g r e g a r d i n g the w o r t h of the v i e w and hence r e g a r d i n g the m e a n i n g of the h i s t o r i c a l c h a n g e . If the historicist contention is to h a v e a n y s o l i d i t y , it must be based not on h i s t o r y but on p h i l o s o p h y : on a p h i l o s o p h i c a n a l y s i s proving t h a t a l l h u man t h o u g h t depends u l t i m a t e l y on fickle and dark fate and not on evident principles accessible to man as m a n . The basic stratum of t h a t philosophic a n a l y s i s is a " c r i t i q u e of r e a s o n " t h a t a l l e g e d l y proves the i m p o s s i b i l i t y of theoretical m e t a p h y s i c s and of philosophic ethics or n a t u r a l r i g h t . Once a l l m e t a p h y s i c a l and e t h i c a l v i e w s can be assumed to be, s t r i c t l y s p e a k i n g , untenable, t h a t i s , untenable a s regards t h e i r c l a i m

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to be s i m p l y true, t h e i r historical fate n e c e s s a r i l y appears to be deserved. It then becomes a p l a u s i b l e , a l t h o u g h not v e r y important, t a s k to trace the prevalence, at different t i m e s , of different m e t a p h y s i c a l and e t h i c a l v i e w s , to the times at w h i c h t h e y prevailed. But t h i s leaves s t i l l i n t a c t the a u t h o r i t y of the positive sciences. The second stratum of the p h i l o s o p h i c a l a n a l y s i s u n d e r l y i n g historicism is the proof t h a t the positive sciences rest on m e t a p h y s i c a l foundations. T a k e n by itself, t h i s philosophic critique of philosophic and scientific t h o u g h t — a continuation of t h e efforts of Hume and of K a n t — w o u l d l e a d to skepticism. But skepticism and h i s toricism are t w o e n t i r e l y different t h i n g s . Skepticism regards itself a s , i n principle, coeval w i t h h u m a n t h o u g h t ; historicism regards itself as belonging to a specific h i s t o r i c a l s i t u a t i o n . For the skeptic, a l l assertions are uncertain and therefore ess e n t i a l l y a r b i t r a r y ; for the historicist, the assertions t h a t prev a i l at different t i m e s and in different c i v i l i z a t i o n s are v e r y far from being a r b i t r a r y . Historicism stems from a nonskeptical tradition—from t h a t modern t r a d i t i o n w h i c h tried to define the l i m i t s of h u m a n k n o w l e d g e and w h i c h therefore admitted t h a t , w i t h i n certain l i m i t s , genuine k n o w l e d g e is possible. In contradistinction to a l l skepticism, h i s t o r i c i s m rests at least p a r t l y on such a critique of h u m a n t h o u g h t as c l a i m s to a r t i c u l a t e w h a t i s c a l l e d " t h e experience o f h i s t o r y . " No competent m a n of our a g e w o u l d r e g a r d as s i m p l y true the complete t e a c h i n g of a n y t h i n k e r of the past. In every case experience h a s s h o w n t h a t the o r i g i n a t o r of the teaching t o o k t h i n g s for granted w h i c h must not be t a k e n for granted or t h a t he did not k n o w certain facts or p o s s i b i l i t i e s w h i c h w e r e d i s covered in a l a t e r a g e . Up to n o w , a l l t h o u g h t h a s proved to be in need of r a d i c a l revisions or to be incomplete or l i m i t e d in decisive respects. Furthermore, l o o k i n g back at the past, we seem to observe t h a t e v e r y progress of t h o u g h t in one direction w a s b o u g h t at the price of a retrogression of t h o u g h t in a n -


21

other respect: w h e n a given l i m i t a t i o n w a s overcome by a progress of t h o u g h t , earlier important i n s i g h t s w e r e i n v a r i a b l y forgotten as a consequence of t h a t progress. On the w h o l e , there w a s then no progress, but merely a change from one t y p e of l i m i t a t i o n to another t y p e . F i n a l l y , we seem to observe t h a t the most important l i m i t a t i o n s of earlier t h o u g h t w e r e of such a nature that t h e y could not p o s s i b l y h a v e been overcome by a n y effort of the e a r l i e r t h i n k e r s ; to s a y n o t h i n g of other considerations, any effort of t h o u g h t w h i c h led to the overcoming of specific l i m i t a t i o n s led to blindness in o t h e r respects. It is reasonable to assume t h a t w h a t h a s i n v a r i a b l y happened up to n o w w i l l happen a g a i n and a g a i n in the future. Human t h o u g h t is e s s e n t i a l l y l i m i t e d in such a w a y t h a t i t s l i m i t a t i o n s differ from historical situation to historical s i t u a tion and t h a t t h e l i m i t a t i o n characteristic of the t h o u g h t of a given epoch cannot be overcome by a n y human effort. There a l w a y s h a v e been and there a l w a y s w i l l b e surprising, w h o l l y unexpected, c h a n g e s of outlook w h i c h r a d i c a l l y modify the meaning of a l l p r e v i o u s l y acquired k n o w l e d g e . No v i e w of the w h o l e , and in p a r t i c u l a r no v i e w of the w h o l e of h u m a n life, can c l a i m to be final or u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d . Every doctrine, h o w ever s e e m i n g l y final, w i l l be superseded sooner or l a t e r by another doctrine. There is no reason to doubt t h a t earlier t h i n k ers h a d i n s i g h t s w h i c h are w h o l l y inaccessible to us and w h i c h cannot become accessible to u s , h o w e v e r carefully we m i g h t s t u d y t h e i r w o r k s , because our l i m i t a t i o n s prevent us from even suspecting the p o s s i b i l i t y of the i n s i g h t s in question. Since the l i m i t a t i o n s of human t h o u g h t are e s s e n t i a l l y unk n o w a b l e , it m a k e s no sense to conceive of them in terms of social, economic, and other conditions, t h a t i s , in terms of k n o w a b l e or a n a l y z a b l e phenomena: the l i m i t a t i o n s of h u m a n t h o u g h t are set by fate. The h i s t o r i c i s t argument h a s a c e r t a i n p l a u s i b i l i t y w h i c h can e a s i l y be accounted for by the preponderance of dogmatism

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in the past. We are not permitted to forget V o l t a i r e ' s comp l a i n t : "nous avons des bacheliers qui savent tout ce que ces grands hommes i g n o r a i e n t . " Apart from t h i s , m a n y thinkers of the first rank have propounded all-comprehensive doctrines w h i c h they regarded as final in a l l important respects—doctrines w h i c h i n v a r i a b l y have proved to be in need of r a d i c a l revision. We ought therefore to w e l c o m e historicism as an a l l y in our fight a g a i n s t dogmatism. But dogmatism—or the inclination " t o identify the g o a l of our t h i n k i n g w i t h the point at w h i c h we h a v e become tired of t h i n k i n g " — i s so natural to man t h a t it is not l i k e l y to be a preserve of the past. We are forced to suspect t h a t historicism is the guise in w h i c h dogmatism l i k e s to appear in our a g e . It seems to us t h a t w h a t is called the "experience of h i s t o r y " is a bird's-eye v i e w of the history of thought, as t h a t h i s t o r y came to be seen under the combined influence of the belief in necessary progress ( o r in the impossibility of returning to the t h o u g h t of the p a s t ) and of the belief in the supreme value of d i v e r s i t y or uniqueness ( o r of the equal r i g h t of a l l epochs or c i v i l i z a t i o n s ) . R a d i c a l historicism does not seem to be in need of those beliefs a n y more. But it h a s never examined w h e t h e r the " e x p e r i e n c e " to w h i c h it refers is not an outcome of those questionable beliefs. 7

8

When speaking of the " e x p e r i e n c e " of h i s t o r y , people i m p l y t h a t t h i s " e x p e r i e n c e ' ' is a comprehensive i n s i g h t w h i c h arises out of historical k n o w l e d g e but w h i c h cannot be reduced to historical k n o w l e d g e . For historical k n o w l e d g e is a l w a y s extremely fragmentary and frequently v e r y uncertain, w h e r e a s the alleged experience is supposedly g l o b a l and certain. Yet it can h a r d l y be doubted t h a t the a l l e g e d experience u l t i m a t e l y rests on a number of historical observations. The question, then, is whether these observations entitle one to assert t h a t the acquisition of new important i n s i g h t s necessarily leads to 7. "Ame," Dictionnaire phtlosopiiqut, ed. J. Benda, I, 19. 8. See Lessing's letter to Mendelssohn of January 9, 1771.


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the forgetting of e a r l i e r important i n s i g h t s and t h a t the earlier t h i n k e r s could not possibly h a v e t h o u g h t of fundamental poss i b i l i t i e s w h i c h came to the center of attention in l a t e r a g e s . It is o b v i o u s l y untrue to s a y , for instance, t h a t Aristotle could not h a v e conceived of the injustice of s l a v e r y , for he did conceive of it. One m a y s a y , h o w e v e r , t h a t he could not h a v e conceived of a w o r l d state. But w h y ? The w o r l d state presupposes such a development of t e c h n o l o g y as Aristotle could never have dreamed of. T h a t t e c h n o l o g i c a l development, in its turn, required t h a t science be regarded as e s s e n t i a l l y in the service of the "conquest of n a t u r e " and t h a t t e c h n o l o g y be emancipated from a n y m o r a l and p o l i t i c a l supervision. Aristotle did not conceive of a w o r l d state because he w a s absolutely certain t h a t science is e s s e n t i a l l y theoretical and t h a t the liberation of t e c h n o l o g y from m o r a l and p o l i t i c a l control w o u l d lead to disastrous consequences: the fusion of science and the arts together w i t h the u n l i m i t e d or uncontrolled progress of technolo g y h a s made universal and perpetual t y r a n n y a serious possib i l i t y . Only a rash m a n w o u l d s a y t h a t A r i s t o t l e ' s v i e w — t h a t i s , h i s answers to the questions of w h e t h e r or not science is e s s e n t i a l l y theoretical and w h e t h e r or not technological progress is in need of strict moral or p o l i t i c a l control—has been refuted. But w h a t e v e r one m i g h t t h i n k of h i s answers, cert a i n l y the fundamental questions to w h i c h t h e y are the answers are i d e n t i c a l w i t h the fundamental questions that are of immediate concern to us t o d a y . R e a l i z i n g t h i s , we realize at the same time t h a t the epoch w h i c h regarded A r i s t o t l e ' s fundamental questions as obsolete completely lacked c l a r i t y about w h a t the fundamental issues are. Far from l e g i t i m i z i n g the historicist inference, h i s t o r y seems rather t o prove t h a t a l l human t h o u g h t , and c e r t a i n l y a l l philosophic t h o u g h t , is concerned w i t h the same fundamental themes or the same fundamental problems, and therefore t h a t there exists a n u n c h a n g i n g framework w h i c h persists i n a l l

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changes of h u m a n k n o w l e d g e of both facts and principles. This inference is o b v i o u s l y compatible w i t h the fact t h a t clari t y about these problems, the approach to them, and the suggested solutions to them differ more or less from t h i n k e r to thinker or from a g e to a g e . If the fundamental problems persist in a l l h i s t o r i c a l change, h u m a n t h o u g h t is capable of transcending its h i s t o r i c a l l i m i t a t i o n or of grasping something trans-historical. T h i s w o u l d be the case even if it were true t h a t a l l attempts to solve these problems are doomed to fail and t h a t t h e y are doomed to fail on account of the " h i s t o r i c i t y " of " a l l " human thought. To l e a v e it at t h i s w o u l d amount to r e g a r d i n g the cause of n a t u r a l r i g h t as hopeless. There cannot be natural r i g h t if a l l t h a t man could k n o w about r i g h t w e r e the problem of r i g h t , or if the question of the principles of justice w o u l d admit of a v a r i e t y of m u t u a l l y exclusive a n s w e r s , none of w h i c h could be proved to be superior to the others. There cannot be n a t u r a l r i g h t if h u m a n t h o u g h t , in spite of i t s essential incompleteness, is not capable of solving the problem of the principles of justice in a genuine and hence u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d manner. M o r e g e n e r a l l y expressed, there cannot be n a t u r a l r i g h t if h u m a n t h o u g h t is not capable of acquiring genuine, u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d , final k n o w l e d g e w i t h i n a l i m i t e d sphere or genuine k n o w l e d g e of specific subjects. Historicism cannot deny t h i s p o s s i b i l i t y . For i t s o w n contention implies the admission of t h i s possibili t y . B y asserting t h a t a l l human t h o u g h t , o r a t least a l l relev a n t human t h o u g h t , is h i s t o r i c a l , historicism a d m i t s t h a t h u m a n t h o u g h t is capable of a c q u i r i n g a most important ins i g h t t h a t is u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d and t h a t w i l l in no w a y be affected by a n y future surprises. The h i s t o r i c i s t thesis is not an isolated assertion: it is inseparable from a v i e w of the essential structure of h u m a n life. This v i e w h a s the same trans-historical character or pretension as a n y n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine. The historicist thesis is then exposed to a v e r y obvious diffi-


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c u l t y w h i c h cannot be solved but o n l y evaded or obscured by considerations of a more subtle character. Historicism asserts t h a t a l l h u m a n t h o u g h t s or beliefs are h i s t o r i c a l , and hence deservedly destined to perish; but historicism itself is a h u m a n t h o u g h t ; hence historicism can be of o n l y temporary v a l i d i t y , or it cannot be s i m p l y true. To assert the historicist thesis means to doubt it and thus to transcend i t . As a m a t t e r of fact, historicism c l a i m s to h a v e brought to l i g h t a truth w h i c h h a s come to s t a y , a truth v a l i d for a l l t h o u g h t , for a l l t i m e : h o w ever much t h o u g h t h a s changed and w i l l c h a n g e , i t w i l l a l w a y s remain h i s t o r i c a l . As regards the decisive i n s i g h t into the essential character of a l l human t h o u g h t and t h e r e w i t h into the essential character or l i m i t a t i o n of h u m a n i t y , h i s t o r y h a s reached i t s end. The historicist is not impressed by the prospect t h a t historicism m a y be superseded in due time by the denial of h i s t o r i c i s m . He is certain t h a t such a change w o u l d amount to a relapse of human t h o u g h t into its most powerful delusion. Historicism t h r i v e s on the fact t h a t it inconsistently exempts itself from its o w n verdict about a l l human t h o u g h t . The historicist thesis is self-contradictory or absurd. We cannot see the h i s t o r i c a l character of " a l l " t h o u g h t — t h a t i s , of a l l t h o u g h t w i t h the exception of the historicist i n s i g h t and i t s i m p l i c a t i o n s — w i t h o u t transcending h i s t o r y , w i t h o u t grasping something trans-historical. If we c a l l a l l t h o u g h t t h a t is r a d i c a l l y historical a "comprehensive w o r l d v i e w " or a part of such a v i e w , we must s a y . historicism is not itself a comprehensive w o r l d v i e w but an a n a l y s i s of a l l comprehensive w o r l d v i e w s , an exposition of the essential character of a l l such v i e w s . T h o u g h t t h a t recognizes the r e l a t i v i t y of a l l comprehensive v i e w s h a s a different character from t h o u g h t w h i c h is under the spell of, or w h i c h adopts, a comprehensive v i e w . The former is absolute and n e u t r a l ; the l a t t e r is r e l a t i v e and committed. The former is a theoretical i n s i g h t t h a t transcends h i s t o r y ; the l a t t e r is the outcome of a fateful dispensation.

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The r a d i c a l historicist refuses to a d m i t the trans-historical character of the historicist thesis. At t h e same time he recognizes the absurdity of unqualified historicism as a theoretical thesis. He denies, therefore, the p o s s i b i l i t y of a theoretical or objective a n a l y s i s , w h i c h as such w o u l d be trans-historical, of the various comprehensive v i e w s or " h i s t o r i c a l w o r l d s " or " c u l t u r e s . " T h i s denial w a s decisively prepared b y Nietzsche's a t t a c k on nineteenth-century historicism, w h i c h claimed to be a theoretical v i e w . According to Nietzsche, the theoretical a n a l y s i s of human life t h a t realizes the r e l a t i v i t y of a l l comprehensive v i e w s and thus depreciates them w o u l d m a k e human life itself impossible, for it w o u l d destroy the protecting atmosphere w i t h i n w h i c h life or culture or action is alone possible. Moreover, since the theoretical a n a l y s i s h a s its basis outside of life, it w i l l never be able to understand life. The theoretical a n a l y s i s of life is n o n c o m m i t t a l and fatal to commitment, but life means commitment. To avert the danger to life, Nietzsche could choose one of t w o w a y s : he could insist on the strictly esoteric character of t h e theoretical a n a l y s i s of life—that i s , restore the Platonic notion of the noble delusion—or else he could deny the p o s s i b i l i t y of theory proper and so conceive of t h o u g h t as e s s e n t i a l l y subservient t o , or dependent on, life or fate. If not Nietzsche himself, at a n y rate h i s successors adopted the second a l t e r n a t i v e . 9

The thesis of r a d i c a l historicism can be stated as f o l l o w s . A l l understanding, a l l k n o w l e d g e , h o w e v e r l i m i t e d and " s c i entific," presupposes a frame of reference; it presupposes a horizon, a comprehensive v i e w w i t h i n w h i c h understanding and k n o w i n g t a k e place. Only such a comprehensive vision 9. For the understanding of this choice, one has to consider its connection with Nietzsche's sympathy with "Callicles," on the one hand, and his preferring the "tragic life" to the theoretical life, on the other (see Plato Gorgias 481 and502 ff., and Laws 658 2-5; compare Nietzsche's Vom Nut^en und Nachteil der Historic fur das Lebin [Insel-Biicherei ed.], p. 73). This passage reveals clearly the fact that Nietzsche adopted what one may consider the fundamental premise of the historical school. d

d

b


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m a k e s possible a n y seeing, a n y observation, a n y orientation. The comprehensive v i e w of the w h o l e cannot be v a l i d a t e d by reasoning, since it is the basis of a l l reasoning. A c c o r d i n g l y , there is a v a r i e t y of such comprehensive v i e w s , each as l e g i t i m a t e as a n y o t h e r : we h a v e to choose such a v i e w w i t h o u t a n y r a t i o n a l g u i d a n c e . It is absolutely necessary to choose one; n e u t r a l i t y or suspension of judgment is impossible. Our choice h a s no support but itself; it is not supported by a n y objective or theoretical c e r t a i n t y ; it is separated from nothingness, the complete absence of m e a n i n g , by nothing but our choice of i t . S t r i c t l y s p e a k i n g , we cannot choose among different v i e w s . A single comprehensive v i e w is imposed on us by fate: the horizon w i t h i n w h i c h a l l our understanding and orientation t a k e place is produced by the fate of the i n d i v i d u a l or of h i s society. A l l human t h o u g h t depends on fate, on something t h a t t h o u g h t cannot master and w h o s e w o r k i n g s it cannot a n t i c i pate. Yet the support of the horizon produced by fate is u l t i m a t e l y the choice of the i n d i v i d u a l , since t h a t fate h a s to be accepted by the i n d i v i d u a l . We are free in the sense t h a t we are free either to choose in anguish the w o r l d v i e w and the standards imposed on us by fate or else to lose ourselves in i l l u s o r y security or in despair. The r a d i c a l historicist asserts, then, t h a t o n l y to t h o u g h t t h a t is itself committed or " h i s t o r i c a l " does other committed or " h i s t o r i c a l " t h o u g h t disclose itself, and, above a l l , t h a t o n l y to t h o u g h t t h a t is itself committed or " h i s t o r i c a l " does the true m e a n i n g of the " h i s t o r i c i t y " of a l l genuine t h o u g h t disclose itself. The historicist thesis expresses a fundamental experience w h i c h , by i t s nature, is incapable of adequate e x pression on the level of noncommitted or detached t h o u g h t . The evidence of t h a t experience m a y indeed be blurred, but it cannot be destroyed by the i n e v i t a b l e l o g i c a l difficulties from w h i c h a l l expressions of such experiences suffer. W i t h a v i e w to h i s fundamental experience, the r a d i c a l historicist denies

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t h a t the final and, in t h i s sense, trans-historical character of the historicist thesis m a k e s doubtful the content of t h a t t h e s i s . The final and irrevocable i n s i g h t into the historical character of a l l t h o u g h t w o u l d transcend h i s t o r y o n l y if t h a t i n s i g h t were accessible to man as man and hence, in principle, at a l l t i m e s ; but it does not transcend h i s t o r y if it e s s e n t i a l l y belongs to a specific historic situation. It belongs to a specific historic s i t u a t i o n : t h a t situation is not merely the condition of the historicist i n s i g h t but its source. 10

A l l n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrines c l a i m t h a t the fundamentals of justice are, in principle, accessible to m a n as m a n . T h e y presuppose, therefore, t h a t a most important truth can, in principle, be accessible to man as man. Denying t h i s presupposition, r a d i c a l historicism asserts t h a t the basic i n s i g h t into the essential l i m i t a t i o n of a l l human t h o u g h t is not accessible to man as man, or t h a t it is not the result of the progress or the labor of human t h o u g h t , but t h a t it is an unforeseeable gift of unfathomable fate. It is due to fate t h a t the essential dependence of t h o u g h t on fate is realized n o w , and w a s not realized in earlier times. Historicism has t h i s in common w i t h a l l other t h o u g h t , t h a t it depends on fate. It differs from a l l other t h o u g h t in t h i s , t h a t , t h a n k s to fate, it h a s been given to realize the r a d i c a l dependence of t h o u g h t on fate. We are absol u t e l y ignorant of the surprises w h i c h fate m a y h a v e in store for later generations, and fate m a y in the future a g a i n conceal w h a t it h a s revealed to u s ; but t h i s does not impair the truth of t h a t revelation. One does not h a v e to transcend h i s t o r y in order to see the h i s t o r i c a l character of a l l t h o u g h t : there is a p r i v i l e g e d moment, an absolute moment in the historical process, a moment in w h i c h the essential character of a l l t h o u g h t becomes transparent. In exempting itself from its o w n verdict, 10. The distinction between "condition" and "source" corresponds to the difference between Aristotle's "history" of philosophy in the first book of the Metaphysics and historicist history.


29

historicism c l a i m s merely to mirror the character of h i s t o r i c a l r e a l i t y or to be true to the facts; the self-contradictory character of the historicist thesis should be charged not to h i s toricism but to r e a l i t y . The assumption of an absolute moment in h i s t o r y is essent i a l to h i s t o r i c i s m . In t h i s , historicism surreptitiously follows the precedent set in a classic manner by Hegel. Hegel h a d t a u g h t t h a t e v e r y p h i l o s o p h y is the conceptual expression of the spirit of i t s t i m e , and y e t he m a i n t a i n e d the absolute truth of h i s o w n system of p h i l o s o p h y by ascribing absolute character t o h i s o w n t i m e ; h e assumed t h a t h i s own time w a s the end of h i s t o r y a n d hence the absolute moment. Historicism e x p l i c i t l y denies t h a t the end of h i s t o r y h a s come, but it i m p l i c i t l y asserts the opposite: no possible future change of orient a t i o n can l e g i t i m a t e l y m a k e doubtful the decisive i n s i g h t into the inescapable dependence of t h o u g h t on fate, and therew i t h into the essential character of h u m a n life; in the decisive respect the end of h i s t o r y , t h a t i s , of the h i s t o r y of t h o u g h t , h a s come. B u t one cannot s i m p l y assume t h a t one l i v e s or t h i n k s in the absolute moment; one must show, s o m e h o w , h o w the absolute moment can be recognized as such. According to Hegel, the absolute moment is the one in w h i c h p h i losophy, or quest for w i s d o m , h a s been transformed into w i s dom, t h a t i s , the moment in w h i c h the fundamental riddles have been f u l l y solved. Historicism, h o w e v e r , stands or falls by the denial of the p o s s i b i l i t y of theoretical metaphysics and of philosophic ethics or n a t u r a l r i g h t ; it stands or falls by the denial of the s o l u b i l i t y of the fundamental riddles. According to h i s t o r i c i s m , therefore, the absolute moment must be the moment in w h i c h the insoluble character of the fundamental riddles h a s become fully manifest or in w h i c h the fundamental delusion of the h u m a n mind h a s been dispelled. But one m i g h t realize the insoluble character of the fundamental riddles and s t i l l continue to see in the understanding of

30


these riddles the t a s k of p h i l o s o p h y ; one w o u l d thus merely replace a nonhistoricist and d o g m a t i c p h i l o s o p h y by a nonhistoricist and s k e p t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . Historicism goes beyond skepticism. It assumes t h a t p h i l o s o p h y , in the full and o r i g i n a l sense of the term, n a m e l y , the attempt to replace opinions about the w h o l e by k n o w l e d g e of the w h o l e , is not o n l y incapable of reaching its g o a l but absurd, because the very idea of p h i l o s o p h y rests on d o g m a t i c , t h a t i s , a r b i t r a r y , premises or, more specifically, on premises t h a t are o n l y " h i s t o r i c a l and r e l a t i v e . " For c l e a r l y , if p h i l o s o p h y , or the attempt to replace opinions by k n o w l e d g e , itself rests on mere opinions, philosop h y is absurd. The most influential attempts to establish the dogmatic and hence a r b i t r a r y or h i s t o r i c a l l y r e l a t i v e character of p h i l o s o p h y proper proceed a l o n g the following l i n e s . Philosophy or the attempt to replace opinions about the w h o l e by k n o w l e d g e of the w h o l e , presupposes that the w h o l e i s k n o w a b l e , t h a t i s , i n t e l l i g i b l e . This presupposition leads to the consequence t h a t the w h o l e as it is in itself is identified w i t h the w h o l e in so far as it is i n t e l l i g i b l e or in so far as it can become an object; it leads to the identification of " b e i n g " w i t h " i n t e l l i g i b l e " or " o b j e c t " ; it l e a d s to the d o g m a t i c disregard of e v e r y t h i n g t h a t cannot become an object, t h a t i s , an object for the k n o w ing subject, or the d o g m a t i c disregard of e v e r y t h i n g t h a t cannot be mastered by the subject. Furthermore, to s a y t h a t the w h o l e is k n o w a b l e or i n t e l l i g i b l e is t a n t a m o u n t to s a y i n g t h a t the w h o l e h a s a permanent structure or t h a t the w h o l e as such is unchangeable or a l w a y s the same. If t h i s is the case, it i s , in principle, possible to predict h o w the w h o l e w i l l be at a n y future t i m e : the future of the w h o l e can be anticipated by t h o u g h t . The presupposition mentioned is said to have its root in the d o g m a t i c identification of " t o b e " in the h i g h e s t sense w i t h " t o be a l w a y s , " or in the fact t h a t p h i l o s o p h y understands " t o b e " in such a sense t h a t " t o b e " in the h i g h e s t sense


31

must mean " t o be a l w a y s . " The d o g m a t i c character of the basic premise of p h i l o s o p h y is said to h a v e been revealed by the discovery of h i s t o r y or of the " h i s t o r i c i t y " of h u m a n life. The meaning of t h a t discovery can be expressed in theses l i k e these: w h a t i s called the w h o l e i s a c t u a l l y a l w a y s incomplete and therefore not t r u l y a w h o l e ; the w h o l e is e s s e n t i a l l y c h a n g i n g in such a manner t h a t i t s future cannot be predicted; the w h o l e as it is in itself can never be grasped, or it is not i n t e l l i g i b l e ; h u m a n t h o u g h t e s s e n t i a l l y depends on something t h a t cannot be a n t i c i p a t e d or t h a t can never be an object or t h a t can never be mastered by the subject; " t o b e " in the h i g h e s t sense cannot mean—or, at a n y rate, it does not necessarily mean—"to be a l w a y s . " We cannot even attempt to discuss these theses. We must l e a v e them w i t h the f o l l o w i n g observation. R a d i c a l h i s t o r i cism compels us to realize the bearing of the fact t h a t the v e r y idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t presupposes the p o s s i b i l i t y of p h i l o s o p h y in the full and o r i g i n a l m e a n i n g of t h e term. It compels us at the same t i m e to realize the need for unbiased reconsideration of the most e l e m e n t a r y premises w h o s e v a l i d i t y is presupposed by p h i l o s o p h y . The question of the v a l i d i t y of these premises cannot be disposed of by adopting or c l i n g i n g to a more or less persistent t r a d i t i o n of p h i l o s o p h y , for it is of the essence of traditions t h a t t h e y cover or conceal t h e i r humble foundations by erecting impressive edifices on them. N o t h i n g ought to be said or done w h i c h could create the impression t h a t unbiased reconsideration of the most elementary premises of p h i l o s o p h y is a m e r e l y academic or h i s t o r i c a l affair. Prior to such reconsideration, h o w e v e r , the issue of n a t u r a l r i g h t can o n l y r e m a i n an open question. For we cannot assume t h a t the issue h a s been finally settled by historicism. The "experience of h i s t o r y " and the less a m biguous experience of the c o m p l e x i t y of h u m a n affairs m a y blur, but t h e y cannot e x t i n g u i s h , the evidence of those simple

32


experiences r e g a r d i n g r i g h t and w r o n g w h i c h are a t the bot tom of the p h i l o s o p h i c contention t h a t there is a n a t u r a l r i g h t . Historicism e i t h e r ignores or else distorts these experiences. Furthermore, the most t h o r o u g h g o i n g a t t e m p t to e s t a b l i s h h i s t o r i c i s m c u l m i n a t e d in the assertion t h a t if and w h e n there are no h u m a n beings, there m a y be entia, but there cannot be esse, t h a t i s , t h a t there can be entia w h i l e there is no esse. There is an obvious connection between t h i s assertion and the rejec tion of the v i e w t h a t " t o b e ' ' in the h i g h e s t sense means " t o be a l w a y s . " Besides, there h a s a l w a y s been a g l a r i n g contrast be t w e e n the w a y i n w h i c h h i s t o r i c i s m understands the t h o u g h t of the past and genuine u n d e r s t a n d i n g of the t h o u g h t of the p a s t ; the undeniable p o s s i b i l i t y of h i s t o r i c a l o b j e c t i v i t y is ex p l i c i t l y o r i m p l i c i t l y denied b y h i s t o r i c i s m i n a l l i t s forms. Above a l l , i n the t r a n s i t i o n from e a r l y ( t h e o r e t i c a l ) t o r a d i c a l ( " e x i s t e n t i a l i s t " ) h i s t o r i c i s m ; the " e x p e r i e n c e o f h i s t o r y " w a s never submitted t o c r i t i c a l a n a l y s i s . I t w a s t a k e n for g r a n t e d t h a t it is a genuine experience and not a questionable i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of experience. The question w a s not raised w h e t h e r w h a t is r e a l l y experienced does not a l l o w of an en t i r e l y different a n d p o s s i b l y more a d e q u a t e i n t e r p r e t a t i o n . In p a r t i c u l a r , t h e " e x p e r i e n c e of h i s t o r y " does not m a k e doubt ful the v i e w t h a t the fundamental problems, such as ťhe prob lems of justice, persist or r e t a i n t h e i r i d e n t i t y in a l l h i s t o r i c a l c h a n g e , h o w e v e r m u c h t h e y m a y be obscured by the temporary denial of t h e i r relevance and h o w e v e r v a r i a b l e or p r o v i s i o n a l a l l h u m a n solutions to these problems m a y be. In grasping these problems as problems, t h e h u m a n m i n d l i b e r a t e s itself from i t s h i s t o r i c a l l i m i t a t i o n s . No more is needed to l e g i t i m i z e philosophy in its original,

Socratic sense: p h i l o s o p h y i s

k n o w l e d g e t h a t one does not k n o w ; t h a t is to s a y , it is k n o w l edge of w h a t one does not k n o w , or a w a r e n e s s of t h e funda m e n t a l problems a n d , t h e r e w i t h , of the fundamental a l t e r n a t i v e s r e g a r d i n g t h e i r solution t h a t are c o e v a l w i t h h u m a n thought.


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If the existence and even the p o s s i b i l i t y of n a t u r a l r i g h t must r e m a i n an open question as long as the issue between h i s toricism and nonhistoricist p h i l o s o p h y is not settled, our most urgent need is to understand t h a t issue. The issue is not understood if it is seen merely in the w a y in w h i c h it presents itself from t h e point of v i e w of h i s t o r i c i s m ; it must also be seen in the w a y in w h i c h it presents itself from the point of v i e w of nonhistoricist p h i l o s o p h y . T h i s means, for a l l p r a c t i cal purposes, t h a t the problem of historicism must first be considered from the point of v i e w of classical p h i l o s o p h y , w h i c h is nonhistoricist t h o u g h t in i t s pure form. Our most urgent need can then be satisfied o n l y by means of historical studies w h i c h w o u l d enable us to understand classical p h i l o s o p h y e x a c t l y as it understood itself, and not in the w a y in w h i c h it presents itself on the basis of historicism. We need, in the first place, a nonhistoricist understanding of nonhistoricist p h i losophy. But we need no less u r g e n t l y a nonhistoricist understanding of historicism, t h a t i s , an understanding of the genesis of historicism t h a t does not t a k e for granted the soundness of h i s t o r i c i s m . Historicism assumes t h a t modern m a n ' s turn t o w a r d h i s t o r y implied the d i v i n a t i o n and e v e n t u a l l y the discovery of a dimension of r e a l i t y t h a t h a d escaped c l a s s i c a l t h o u g h t , n a m e l y , of the h i s t o r i c a l dimension. If t h i s is granted, one w i l l be forced in the end into extreme h i s t o r i c i s m . But if historicism cannot be t a k e n for granted, the question becomes i n e v i t a b l e w h e t h e r w h a t w a s h a i l e d in the nineteenth century as a d i s covery w a s not, i n fact, a n invention, t h a t i s , a n a r b i t r a r y interpretation of phenomena w h i c h h a d a l w a y s been k n o w n and w h i c h h a d been interpreted much more a d e q u a t e l y prior to the emergence of " t h e historical consciousness" t h a n afterw a r d . W e h a v e t o raise the question w h e t h e r w h a t i s c a l l e d the " d i s c o v e r y " of h i s t o r y is not, in fact, an artificial a n d makeshift solution to a problem t h a t could arise o n l y on the basis of v e r y questionable premises.

34


I suggest t h i s line of approach. " H i s t o r y " meant t h r o u g h out the a g e s p r i m a r i l y p o l i t i c a l h i s t o r y . A c c o r d i n g l y , w h a t i s called the " d i s c o v e r y " of h i s t o r y is the w o r k , not of philosop h y in general, but of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . It w a s a predicament p e c u l i a r to eighteenth-century p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y t h a t led to the emergence of the h i s t o r i c a l school. The p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y of the e i g h t e e n t h century w a s a doctrine of n a t u r a l r i g h t . It consisted in a peculiar interpretation of n a t u r a l r i g h t , n a m e l y , the specifically modern interpretation. Historicism is the u l t i m a t e outcome of the crisis of modern n a t u r a l r i g h t . The crisis of modern natural r i g h t or of modern p o l i t i c a l p h i losophy could become a crisis of p h i l o s o p h y as such o n l y because in the modern centuries p h i l o s o p h y as such h a d become t h o r o u g h l y politicized. O r i g i n a l l y , p h i l o s o p h y h a d been the h u m a n i z i n g quest for the eternal order, and hence it h a d been a pure source of h u m a n e inspiration and aspiration. Since the seventeenth century, p h i l o s o p h y h a s become a w e a p o n , and hence an instrument. It w a s t h i s p o l i t i c i z a t i o n of p h i l o s o p h y t h a t w a s discerned as the root of our troubles by an i n t e l l e c t u a l w h o denounced the treason of the i n t e l l e c t u a l s . He committed the fatal m i s t a k e , h o w e v e r , of i g n o r i n g the essential difference between i n t e l l e c t u a l s and philosophers. In t h i s he remained the dupe of the delusion w h i c h he denounced. For the p o l i t i cization of p h i l o s o p h y consists p r e c i s e l y in t h i s , t h a t the difference between i n t e l l e c t u a l s and philosophers—a difference formerly k n o w n as the difference between gentlemen and philosophers, on the one hand, and t h e difference between sophists or rhetoricians and p h i l o s o p h e r s , on the other—becomes blurred and finally disappears.

NATURAL

RIGHT

BETWEEN

AND

FACTS

THE AND

DISTINCTION VALUES

T

HE h i s t o r i c i s t contention can be reduced to the assertion t h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t is impossible because philosophy in the full sense of the term is impossible. P h i l o s o p h y is possible o n l y if there is an absolute horizon or a n a t u r a l horizon in contradistinction to the h i s t o r i c a l l y c h a n g i n g horizons or the caves. In other w o r d s , p h i l o s o p h y is possible o n l y if man, w h i l e incapable of a c q u i r i n g w i s d o m or full understanding of t h e w h o l e , is capable of k n o w i n g w h a t he does not k n o w , t h a t is to s a y , of grasping the fundamental problems and t h e r e w i t h the fundamental a l t e r n a t i v e s , w h i c h are, in principle, coeval w i t h h u m a n t h o u g h t . But the p o s s i b i l i t y of p h i l o s o p h y is o n l y the necessary and not the sufficient condition of n a t u r a l r i g h t . The p o s s i b i l i t y of p h i l o s o p h y does not require more t h a n t h a t the fundamental problems a l w a y s be the s a m e ; but there cannot be n a t u r a l r i g h t if t h e fundamental problem of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y cannot be solved in a final manner. If p h i l o s o p h y in general is possible, p o l i t i c a l philosophy in p a r t i c u l a r is possible. P o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y is possible if man is capable of understanding the fundamental p o l i t i c a l alternative w h i c h is at the bottom of the ephemeral or accidental a l t e r n a t i v e s . Y e t if p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y is l i m i t e d to understanding t h e fundamental p o l i t i c a l a l t e r n a t i v e , it is of no pract i c a l v a l u e . It w o u l d be unable to answer the question of w h a t the u l t i m a t e g o a l of w i s e action i s . It w o u l d have to delegate the crucial decision to blind choice. The w h o l e g a l a x y of pol i t i c a l philosophers from Plato to Hegel, and c e r t a i n l y a l l ad35

36


herents of n a t u r a l r i g h t , assumed t h a t the fundamental p o l i t i cal problem is susceptible of a final solution. T h i s assumption u l t i m a t e l y rested on the Socratic a n s w e r to the question of h o w man o u g h t to l i v e . By realizing t h a t we are ignorant of the most important t h i n g s , we realize at the same time t h a t the most important t h i n g for us, or the one t h i n g needful, is quest for k n o w l e d g e of the most important t h i n g s or quest for w i s d o m . T h a t t h i s conclusion is not barren of p o l i t i c a l consequences is k n o w n to every reader of P l a t o ' s Republic or of A r i s t o t l e ' s Politics. It is true t h a t the successful quest for w i s dom m i g h t l e a d to the result t h a t w i s d o m is not the one t h i n g needful. But t h i s result w o u l d o w e i t s relevance to the fact t h a t it is the result of the quest for w i s d o m : the v e r y d i s a v o w a l of reason must be reasonable d i s a v o w a l . Regardless of w h e t h e r t h i s p o s s i b i l i t y affects the v a l i d i t y of the Socratic answer, the perennial conflict between the Socratic and the anti-Socratic answer creates the impression t h a t the Socratic answer is as a r b i t r a r y as its opposite, or t h a t the perennial conflict is insoluble. A c c o r d i n g l y , m a n y present-day social scientists w h o are not historicists or w h o do a d m i t the existence of fundamental and unchanging a l t e r n a t i v e s deny t h a t human reason is capable of solving the conflict between these a l t e r n a t i v e s . N a t u r a l r i g h t is then rejected t o d a y not o n l y because a l l human t h o u g h t is held to be historical but l i k e w i s e because it is t h o u g h t t h a t there is a v a r i e t y of u n c h a n g e a b l e principles of r i g h t or of goodness w h i c h conflict w i t h one another, and none of w h i c h can be proved to be superior to the others. S u b s t a n t i a l l y , t h i s is the position t a k e n by M a x Weber. Our discussion w i l l be l i m i t e d to a c r i t i c a l a n a l y s i s of W e b e r ' s v i e w . No one since Weber h a s devoted a comparable amount of intelligence, a s s i d u i t y , and almost fanatical devotion to the basic problem of the social sciences. W h a t e v e r m a y have been h i s errors, he is the greatest social scientist of our century. Weber, w h o regarded himself as a disciple of the h i s t o r i c a l

DISTINCTION BETWEEN FACTS AND VALUES

37

1

school came v e r y close to historicism, and a strong case can be made for t h e v i e w t h a t h i s reservations a g a i n s t historicism w e r e halfhearted and inconsistent w i t h the broad tendency of h i s t h i n k i n g . He parted company w i t h the historical school, not because it h a d rejected n a t u r a l norms, i . e . , norms t h a t are both universal and objective, but because it h a d tried to establ i s h standards t h a t were p a r t i c u l a r and historical indeed, but s t i l l objective. He objected to the historical school not because it h a d blurred the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t but because it h a d preserved n a t u r a l r i g h t in a h i s t o r i c a l g u i s e , instead of rejecting it altogether. The h i s t o r i c a l school h a d given natur a l r i g h t a h i s t o r i c a l character by insisting on the ethnic character of a l l genuine r i g h t or by tracing a l l genuine r i g h t to unique folk m i n d s , as w e l l as by assuming t h a t the h i s t o r y of m a n k i n d is a meaningful process or a process ruled by intell i g i b l e necessity. Weber rejected both assumptions as metap h y s i c a l , i . e . , as based on the d o g m a t i c premise t h a t r e a l i t y is r a t i o n a l . Since Weber assumed t h a t the real is a l w a y s i n d i v i d u a l , he could state the premise of the h i s t o r i c a l school also in these t e r m s : the i n d i v i d u a l is an emanation from the general or from the w h o l e . According to Weber, however, i n d i v i d u a l or p a r t i a l phenomena can be understood o n l y as effects of other i n d i v i d u a l or p a r t i a l phenomena, and never as effects of w h o l e s such as folk minds. To t r y to e x p l a i n h i s t o r i c a l or unique phenomena by tracing them to general l a w s or to unique w h o l e s means to assume g r a t u i t o u s l y t h a t there are mysterious or u n a n a l y z a b l e forces w h i c h move the h i s t o r i c a l actors. There is no " m e a n i n g " of history apart from the " s u b j e c t i v e " meaning or the intentions w h i c h a n i m a t e the historical actors. But these intentions are of such l i m i t e d power t h a t the act ual out2

1. Gesammelte p. 208.

politische

Schriften,

p.

22;

Gesammelte

Aufsätze

Zur

Wissenschaftslehre,

2. Wissenschaftslehre, pp. 13, 15, 18, 19, 28, 35-37, 134, 137, 174, 195, 230; Gesammelte Aufsätze Z. Sozial- und Wirtschaftsgeschichte, p. 517. ur

38


come is in most cases w h o l l y unintended. Y e t the act ual outcome—historical f a t e — w h i c h is not planned by God or m a n , molds not o n l y our w a y of life but our v e r y t h o u g h t s , and esp e c i a l l y does it determine our i d e a l s . Weber w a s , h o w e v e r , s t i l l too much impressed by the idea of science to accept h i s toricism w i t h o u t qualification. In fact, one is tempted to suggest t h a t the p r i m a r y motive of h i s opposition to the historical school and to historicism in general w a s devotion to the idea of empirical science as it prevailed in h i s generation. The idea of science forced h i m to insist on the fact t h a t a l l science as such is independent of W e l t a n s c h a u u n g : both n a t u r a l and social science c l a i m to be e q u a l l y v a l i d for Westerners and for Chinese, i . e . , for people w h o s e " w o r l d v i e w s " are r a d i c a l l y different. The historical genesis of modern science—the fact t h a t it is of Western o r i g i n — i s w h o l l y irrelevant as regards its v a l i d i t y . Nor did Weber have a n y doubt t h a t modern science is absolutely superior to a n y e a r l i e r form of t h i n k i n g orientation in the w o r l d of nature and society. T h a t superiority can be established objectively, by reference to the rules of l o g i c . There arose, h o w e v e r , in Weber's mind t h i s difficulty in regard to the social sciences in p a r t i c u l a r . He insisted on the objective and universal v a l i d i t y of social science in so far as it is a body of true propositions. Y e t these propositions are o n l y a part of social science. T h e y are the results of scientific i n v e s t i g a t i o n or the answers to questions. The questions w h i c h we address to social phenomena depend on the direction of our interest or on our point of v i e w , and these on our v a l u e i d e a s . But the v a l u e ideas are h i s t o r i c a l l y r e l a t i v e . Hence t h e substance of social science is r a d i c a l l y h i s t o r i c a l ; for it is the v a l u e ideas and the direction of interest w h i c h determine the w h o l e conceptual framework of the social sciences. A c c o r d i n g l y , it does not 3

4

3. Wisscnschajtslehre, pp. 152, 183, 224 n.; Politischi Schrijten, pp. miltt Aujsdtzt %ur Rcligionssoziologit, I, 82, 524. 4. Wisscnschajtslchrt, pp. 58-60, 97, 105, 111, 155, 160, 184.

19, 437; Gisam-


39

m a k e sense to speak of a " n a t u r a l frame of reference" or to expect a final system of the basic concepts: a l l frames of reference are ephemeral. Every conceptual scheme used by social science a r t i c u l a t e s the basic problems, and these problems change w i t h the change of the social and cultural s i t u a t i o n . Social science is necessarily the understanding of society from the point of v i e w of the present. W h a t is trans-historical are m e r e l y the findings r e g a r d i n g the facts and their causes. M o r e precisely, w h a t is trans-historical is the v a l i d i t y of these findi n g s ; but the importance or significance of any findings depends on v a l u e ideas and hence on h i s t o r i c a l l y changeable principles. U l t i m a t e l y , t h i s applies to e v e r y science. A l l science presupposes t h a t science is v a l u a b l e , but t h i s presupposition is the product of certain cultures, and hence h i s t o r i c a l l y r e l a t i v e . However, the concrete and h i s t o r i c a l value ideas, of w h i c h there is an indefinitely l a r g e v a r i e t y , contain elements of a trans-historical character: the u l t i m a t e values are as timeless as the principles of l o g i c . It is the recognition of timeless v a l ues t h a t distinguishes Weber's position most significantly from h i s t o r i c i s m . Not so much historicism as a peculiar notion of timeless v a l u e s is the basis of h i s rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t . Weber never explained w h a t h e understood b y " v a l u e s . " He w a s p r i m a r i l y concerned w i t h the relations of v a l u e s to facts. Facts and v a l u e s are a b s o l u t e l y heterogeneous, as is s h o w n d i r e c t l y by the absolute heterogeneity of questions of fact and questions of v a l u e . No conclusion can be d r a w n from a n y fact as to its v a l u a b l e character, nor can we infer the fact u a l character of something from its being v a l u a b l e or desirable. Neither time-serving nor wishful t h i n k i n g is supported by reason. By proving t h a t a given social order is t h e g o a l of the h i s t o r i c a l process, one does not s a y a n y t h i n g as to the v a l u e or desirable character of t h a t order. By s h o w i n g t h a t 6

6

5. Ibid., pp. 60, 152, 170, 184, 206-9, 213-14, 259, 261-62. 6. Ibid., pp. 60, 62, 152, 213, 247, 463, 467, 469, 472; Politiscbe Schrifttn, pp. 22, 60.

40


certain r e l i g i o u s or e t h i c a l ideas h a d a v e r y great effect or no effect, one does not s a y a n y t h i n g about the v a l u e of those ideas. To understand a factual or possible e v a l u a t i o n is somet h i n g e n t i r e l y different from approving or forgiving t h a t e v a l uation. Weber contended t h a t the absolute heterogeneity of facts and values necessitates the e t h i c a l l y neutral character of social science: social science can a n s w e r questions of facts and their causes; it is not competent to a n s w e r questions of v a l u e . He insisted v e r y strongly on the role p l a y e d by v a l u e s in social science: the objects of social science are constituted by "reference to v a l u e s . " W i t h o u t such "reference," there w o u l d be no focus of interest, no reasonable selection of themes, no principles of distinction between relevant and irrelevant facts. T h r o u g h "reference to v a l u e s " the objects of the social sciences emerge out of the ocean or morass of facts. But Weber insisted no less s t r o n g l y on the fundamental difference between "reference to v a l u e s ' ' and " v a l u e j u d g m e n t s ' ' : by s a y i n g t h a t something is relevant w i t h r e g a r d to p o l i t i c a l freedom, for e x a m p l e , one does not t a k e a stand for or a g a i n s t p o l i t i c a l freedom. The social scientist does not e v a l u a t e the objects constituted by "reference to v a l u e s " ; he m e r e l y e x p l a i n s them by tracing them to their causes. The v a l u e s to w h i c h social science refers and among w h i c h acting man chooses are in need of clarification. T h i s clarification is the function of social p h i losophy. But even social p h i l o s o p h y cannot solve the crucial v a l u e problems. It cannot criticize value judgments t h a t are not self-contradictory. 7

Weber contended t h a t h i s notion of a " v a l u e - f r e e " or e t h i c a l l y neutral social science is fully justified by w h a t he re7. Wissenscbaftshbrt, pp. 90, 91, 124, 125, 150, 1 5 1 , 154, 1 5 5 , 461-65, 469-73, 475, 545, 550; Gesammilti Aujsdtxi zur Soziologit und So%ialplitik, pp. 417-18, 476-77, 482. As regards the connection between the limitation of social science to the study of facts and the belief in the authoritative character of natural science, see Soziologic und Sozjalpolitik, p. 478.


41

garded as the most fundamental of a l l oppositions, n a m e l y , the opposition of the Is and the Ought, or the opposition of r e a l i t y and norm or v a l u e . But the conclusion from the r a d i c a l heterogeneity of the Is and the Ought to the i m p o s s i b i l i t y of an e v a l u a t i n g social science is o b v i o u s l y not v a l i d . Let us a s sume t h a t we had genuine k n o w l e d g e of r i g h t and w r o n g , or of the O u g h t , or of the true value system. T h a t k n o w l e d g e , w h i l e not derived from empirical science, w o u l d l e g i t i m a t e l y direct a l l empirical social science; it w o u l d be the foundation of a l l e m p i r i c a l social science. For social science is meant to be of p r a c t i c a l v a l u e . It tries to find means for given ends. For t h i s purpose it h a s to understand the ends. Regardless of w h e t h e r the ends are " g i v e n " in a different manner from the means, the end and the means belong together; therefore, " t h e end belongs to the same science as the m e a n s . " If there were genuine k n o w l e d g e of the ends, that k n o w l e d g e w o u l d n a t u r a l l y g u i d e a l l search for means. There w o u l d be no reason to delegate k n o w l e d g e of the ends to social p h i l o s o p h y and the search for the means to an independent social science. Based on genuine k n o w l e d g e of the true ends, social science w o u l d search for the proper means to those ends; it w o u l d lead up to objective and specific v a l u e judgments regarding policies. Social science w o u l d be a t r u l y p o l i c y - m a k i n g , not to s a y architectonic, science r a t h e r than a mere supplier of data for the t e a l p o l i c y m a k e r s . The true reason w h y Weber insisted on the e t h i c a l l y neutral character of social science as w e l l as of social p h i l o s o p h y w a s , then, not his belief in the fundamental opposition of the Is and the Ought but h i s belief t h a t there cannot be a n y genuine k n o w l e d g e of the Ought. He denied to man a n y science, empirical or r a t i o n a l , a n y k n o w l e d g e , scientific or p h i l osophic, of the true value system: the true v a l u e system does not e x i s t ; there is a v a r i e t y of values w h i c h are of the same 8

9

8. Wisstnscbaftslchrt, pp. 32, 40 n., 127 n., 148, 401, 470-71, 501, 577. a

9. Aristotle Physics 194 26-27.

42


r a n k , w h o s e demands conflict w i t h one another, and w h o s e conflict cannot be solved by h u m a n reason. Social science or social p h i l o s o p h y can do no more t h a n clarify t h a t conflict and a l l i t s i m p l i c a t i o n s ; the solution h a s to be left to the free, nonr a t i o n a l decision of each i n d i v i d u a l . I contend t h a t Weber's thesis n e c e s s a r i l y leads to n i h i l i s m or to the v i e w t h a t every preference, h o w e v e r e v i l , base, or insane, h a s to be judged before the t r i b u n a l of reason to be as l e g i t i m a t e as a n y other preference. An u n m i s t a k a b l e sign of t h i s necessity is supplied by a statement of Weber about the prospects of Western c i v i l i z a t i o n . He s a w t h i s a l t e r n a t i v e : either a spiritual r e n e w a l ( " w h o l l y n e w prophets or a powerful renaissance of old t h o u g h t s and i d e a l s " ) or else " m e c h a nized petrifaction, varnished by a k i n d of convulsive sense of self-importance," i . e . , the extinction of e v e r y human possibili t y but t h a t of " s p e c i a l i s t s w i t h o u t spirit or vision and v o l u p tuaries w i t h o u t h e a r t . " Confronted w i t h t h i s a l t e r n a t i v e , Weber felt t h a t the decision in favor of either p o s s i b i l i t y w o u l d be a judgment of value or of f a i t h , and hence beyond the competence of r e a s o n . This amounts to an admission t h a t the w a y of life of " s p e c i a l i s t s w i t h o u t spirit or vision and voluptuaries w i t h o u t h e a r t " is as defensible as the w a y s of life recommended by Amos or by Socrates. 10

To see t h i s more c l e a r l y and to see at the same time w h y Weber could conceal from himself the n i h i l i s t i c consequence of his doctrine of v a l u e s , we have to f o l l o w h i s t h o u g h t step by step. In following t h i s movement t o w a r d its end we s h a l l ine v i t a b l y reach a point beyond w h i c h the scene is darkened by the s h a d o w of Hitler. Unfortunately, it does not go w i t h o u t s a y i n g t h a t in our e x a m i n a t i o n we must a v o i d the f a l l a c y t h a t in the l a s t decades h a s frequently been used as a substitute for the reductio ad absurdum: the reductio ad Hitlerum. A v i e w is not 10. Compare Religionsso%iologic, I, 204, with Wissenschajtslehre, pp. 469-70 and 150-51.


43

refuted by the fact t h a t it happens to h a v e been shared by Hitler. Weber started out from a combination of the v i e w s of Kant as t h e y w e r e understood by certain neo-Kantians and of the v i e w s of the historical school. From neo-Kantianism he took over h i s general notion of the character of science, as w e l l as of " i n d i v i d u a l " ethics. A c c o r d i n g l y , h e rejected u t i l i t a r i a n i s m and every form of eudemonism. From the h i s t o r i c a l school he took over the v i e w t h a t there is no possible social or c u l t u r a l order w h i c h can be said to be the r i g h t or r a t i o n a l order. He combined t h e t w o positions by means of the distinction between m o r a l commands ( o r e t h i c a l i m p e r a t i v e s ) and c u l t u r a l v a l u e s . M o r a l commands appeal to our conscience, w h e r e a s cultural v a l u e s appeal to our feelings: the i n d i v i d u a l o u g h t to fulfil h i s m o r a l duties, w h e r e a s it depends e n t i r e l y on h i s a r b i t r a r y w i l l w h e t h e r h e w i s h e s t o realize cultural ideals o r not. C u l t u r a l i d e a l s or v a l u e s l a c k the specific o b l i g a t o r y character of the moral imperatives. These imperatives h a v e a d i g n i t y of t h e i r o w n , w i t h w h o s e recognition Weber seemed to be g r e a t l y concerned. But, precisely because of the fundamental difference between moral commands and cultural v a l u e s , e t h i c s proper is silent in regard to c u l t u r a l and social questions. Whereas gentlemen, or honest men, necessarily agree as to t h i n g s m o r a l , t h e y l e g i t i m a t e l y disagree in regard to such • t h i n g s as G o t h i c architecture, p r i v a t e property, m o n o g a m y , democracy, and so o n . 11

One is thus led to t h i n k t h a t Weber admitted the existence of a b s o l u t e l y binding rational norms, n a m e l y , the moral i m peratives. Y e t one sees i m m e d i a t e l y afterward t h a t w h a t he said about the moral commands is not much more than the residue of a tradition in w h i c h he w a s brought up and w h i c h , indeed, never ceased to determine h i m as a human being. W h a t 11. Politische Schrijten, p. 22; Religionssoziologie, I, 33—35; Wisstnschaftslchrt, pp. 30, 148, 154, 1 5 5 , 252, 463, 466, 471; Soziologie und Sozialpolitik, p. 418.

44


he r e a l l y t h o u g h t w a s t h a t ethical i m p e r a t i v e s are as subject i v e as cultural v a l u e s . According to h i m , it is as l e g i t i m a t e to reject ethics in the name of cultural v a l u e s as it is to reject cultural values in the name of e t h i c s , or to adopt a n y combination of both types of norm w h i c h is not self-contradictory. T h i s decision w a s the inevitable consequence of h i s notion of ethics. He could not reconcile h i s view t h a t ethics is silent about the r i g h t social order w i t h the undeniable e t h i c a l relevance of social questions, except by " r e l a t i v i z i n g " ethics. It w a s on this basis t h a t he developed h i s concept of "personali t y " or of the d i g n i t y of man. The true m e a n i n g of "personali t y " depends on the true meaning of " f r e e d o m . " Provisiona l l y , one m a y s a y t h a t human action is free to the extent to w h i c h it is not affected by external compulsion or irresistible emotions but is guided by rational consideration of means and ends. Yet true freedom requires ends of a certain k i n d , and these ends have to be adopted in a certain manner. The ends must be anchored in ultimate v a l u e s . M a n ' s d i g n i t y , h i s being exalted far above every t h i n g merely n a t u r a l or above a l l brutes, consists in h i s setting up autonomously h i s u l t i m a t e v a l ues, in m a k i n g these values his constant ends, and in r a t i o n a l l y choosing the means to these ends. The d i g n i t y of man consists in his autonomy, i . e . , in the i n d i v i d u a l ' s freely choosing h i s o w n values or h i s o w n ideals or in o b e y i n g the injunction: "Become w h a t thou a r t . " 12

1 3

At this stage, we s t i l l have something resembling an objective norm, a categoric i m p e r a t i v e : " T h o u shalt have i d e a l s . " T h a t imperative is " f o r m a l " ; it does not determine in any w a y the content of the ideals, but it m i g h t s t i l l seem to establish an i n t e l l i g i b l e or nonarbitrary standard t h a t w o u l d a l l o w us to distinguish in a responsible manner between human excel12. Wissenschaftslihn, pp. 38, n. 2, 40-41, 155, 463, 466-69; Soxjologie und Sozjalfolitik, p. 423. 13. Wisstnschaftslthre, pp. 38, 40, 132-33, 469-70, 533-34, 555.


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lence and d e p r a v i t y . T h e r e w i t h it m i g h t seem to create a u n i versal brotherhood of a l l noble souls; of a l l men w h o are not enslaved by their appetites, their passions, and their selfish interests; of a l l " i d e a l i s t s " — o f a l l men w h o can j u s t l y esteem or respect one another. Yet t h i s is o n l y a delusion. W h a t seems at first to be an invisible church proves to be a w a r of e v e r y body a g a i n s t everybody or, rather, pandemonium. W e b e r ' s o w n formulation o f his categoric imperative w a s " F o l l o w t h y d e m o n " or " F o l l o w t h y god or d e m o n . " It w o u l d be unfair to complain t h a t Weber forgot the p o s s i b i l i t y of e v i l demons, a l t h o u g h he m a y have been g u i l t y of underestimating them. If he h a d t h o u g h t o n l y of good demons, he w o u l d h a v e been forced to a d m i t an objective criterion t h a t w o u l d a l l o w h i m to d i s t i n g u i s h in principle between good and evil demons. His categoric i m p e r a t i v e a c t u a l l y means " F o l l o w t h y demon, regardless of w h e t h e r he is a good or e v i l d e m o n . " For there is an insoluble, d e a d l y conflict between the various values among w h i c h man has to choose. W h a t one man considers f o l l o w i n g God another w i l l consider, w i t h equal r i g h t , following the Devil. The categoric imperative h a s then to be formulated as f o l l o w s : " F o l l o w God o r the Devil a s y o u w i l l , but, w h i c h ever choice y o u m a k e , m a k e i t w i t h a l l your heart, w i t h a l l y o u r soul, and w i t h a l l y o u r p o w e r . " W h a t i s absolutely base is to f o l l o w one's appetites, passions, or self-interest and to be indifferent or l u k e w a r m t o w a r d i d e a l s or values, t o w a r d gods or devils. 1 4

Weber's " i d e a l i s m , " i . e . , h i s recognition o f a l l " i d e a l " g o a l s or of a l l " c a u s e s , " seems to permit of a n o n a r b i t r a r y distinction between excellence and baseness or d e p r a v i t y . At the same t i m e , it culminates in the i m p e r a t i v e " F o l l o w God or the D e v i l , " w h i c h means, i n nontheological l a n g u a g e , " S t r i v e r e s o l u t e l y for excellence or b a s e n e s s . " For if Weber meant to s a y t h a t choosing v a l u e system A in preference to 14. Ibid., pp. 455, 466-69, 546; Politische Schriften, pp. 435-36.

46


value system B is compatible w i t h genuine respect for v a l u e system B or does not mean rejecting v a l u e system B as base, he could not h a v e k n o w n w h a t h e w a s t a l k i n g about i n s p e a k i n g of a choice between God and D e v i l ; he must h a v e meant a mere difference of tastes w h i l e t a l k i n g of a d e a d l y conflict. It thus appears t h a t for Weber, in h i s c a p a c i t y as a social philosopher, excellence and baseness completely lost their prim a r y meaning. Excellence n o w means devotion to a cause, be it good or e v i l , and baseness means indifference to a l l causes. Excellence and baseness thus understood are excellence and baseness of a h i g h e r order. T h e y belong to a dimension t h a t is e x a l t e d far above the dimension of action. T h e y can be seen o n l y after one h a s completely broken a w a y from the w o r l d in w h i c h w e h a v e t o m a k e decisions, a l t h o u g h t h e y present themselves as preceding a n y decision. T h e y are the correlates of a purely theoretical a t t i t u d e t o w a r d the w o r l d of action. T h a t theoretical attitude implies equal respect for a l l causes; but such respect is possible o n l y for h i m w h o is not devoted to a n y cause. N o w if excellence is devotion to a cause and baseness indifference to a l l causes, the theoretical attitude t o w a r d a l l causes w o u l d h a v e to be qualified as base. No wonder, then, t h a t Weber w a s driven to question the v a l u e of theory, of science, of reason, of the realm of the m i n d , and t h e r e w i t h of both the moral imperatives and the c u l t u r a l v a l u e s . He w a s forced t o dignify w h a t h e called " p u r e l y ' v i t a l i s t i c ' v a l u e s " to the same h e i g h t as the moral commands and the cultural v a l u e s . The " p u r e l y ' v i t a l i s t i c ' v a l u e s " m a y be said to belong e n t i r e l y to " t h e sphere of one's o w n i n d i v i d u a l i t y , " being, t h a t i s , p u r e l y personal and in no w a y principles of a cause. Hence t h e y are not, s t r i c t l y speaking, v a l u e s . Weber contended e x p l i c i t l y t h a t it is perfectly l e g i t i m a t e to t a k e a hostile a t t i tude t o w a r d a l l impersonal and supra-personal values and i d e a l s , and t h e r e w i t h t o w a r d every concern w i t h "personali t y " or the d i g n i t y of man as previously defined; for, according


47

to h i m , there is o n l y one w a y to become a " p e r s o n a l i t y , " n a m e l y , t h r o u g h absolute devotion to a cause. At the moment w h e n the " v i t a l i s t i c " values are recognized as of equal r a n k w i t h c u l t u r a l v a l u e s , the categoric imperative " T h o u s h a l t h a v e i d e a l s " is being transformed into the command " T h o u shalt l i v e p a s s i o n a t e l y . ' ' Baseness no longer means indifference to a n y of the incompatible great objects of h u m a n i t y , but being engrossed w i t h one's comfort and prestige. But w i t h w h a t r i g h t except t h a t of a r b i t r a r y w h i m can one reject the w a y of life of the philistine in the name of " v i t a l i s t i c " v a l u e s , if one can reject the moral commands in the name of " v i t a l i s t i c " values? It w a s in tacit recognition of the i m p o s s i b i l i t y of stopping on the d o w n w a r d p a t h t h a t Weber frankly admitted t h a t it is m e r e l y a subjective judgment of faith or value if one despises " s p e c i a l i s t s w i t h o u t spirit or vision and voluptuaries w i t h o u t h e a r t " as degraded human beings. The final formulation of W e b e r ' s e t h i c a l principle w o u l d thus be " T h o u shalt h a v e preferences"—an Ought w h o s e fulfilment is fully g u a r a n teed by the I s . 15

One last obstacle to complete chaos seems to remain. W h a t ever preferences I m a y have or choose, I must act r a t i o n a l l y : I must be honest w i t h myself, I must be consistent in my adherence to my fundamental objectives, and I must r a t i o n a l l y choose the means required by my ends. But w h y ? W h a t difference can t h i s s t i l l m a k e after we have been reduced to a condition in w h i c h the m a x i m s of the h e a r t l e s s v o l u p t u a r y as w e l l as those of the sentimental p h i l i s t i n e h a v e to be regarded as no less defensible t h a n those of the i d e a l i s t , of the gentleman, or of the saint? We cannot take seriously this belated insistence on r e s p o n s i b i l i t y and s a n i t y , t h i s inconsistent concern w i t h consistency, t h i s i r r a t i o n a l praise of r a t i o n a l i t y . Can one not very e a s i l y m a k e out a stronger case for inconsistency t h a n Weber h a s m a d e out for preferring c u l t u r a l values to the m o r a l 15.

Wissenschaftskhre, pp. 61, 152, 456, 468-69, 531; Politische Schriften, pp. 443-44.

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imperatives? Does one not necessarily i m p l y the depreciation of r a t i o n a l i t y in every form at the moment in w h i c h one declares it l e g i t i m a t e to m a k e " v i t a l i s t i c " values one's supreme values? Weber w o u l d probably h a v e insisted t h a t , w h a t e v e r preference one adopts, one h a s to be honest, at least w i t h one's self, and e s p e c i a l l y t h a t one must not m a k e the dishonest attempt to g i v e one's preferences an objective foundation w h i c h w o u l d necessarily be a sham foundation. But, should he have done so, he w o u l d m e r e l y have been inconsistent. For, according to h i m , it is e q u a l l y l e g i t i m a t e to w i l l or not to w i l l truth, or to reject truth in favor of the beautiful and the sacred. W h y , then, should one not prefer pleasing delusions or edifying m y t h s to the truth? Weber's regard for " r a t i o n a l selfd e t e r m i n a t i o n " and " i n t e l l e c t u a l h o n e s t y " is a t r a i t of h i s character w h i c h h a s no basis but his nonrational preference for " r a t i o n a l self-determination" and " i n t e l l e c t u a l h o n e s t y . " 16

One m a y call the n i h i l i s m to w h i c h Weber's thesis leads " n o b l e n i h i l i s m . " For t h a t n i h i l i s m stems not from a p r i m a r y indifference to e v e r y t h i n g noble but from the a l l e g e d or real i n s i g h t into the baseless character of e v e r y t h i n g thought to be noble. Yet one cannot m a k e a distinction between noble and base n i h i l i s m except if one h a s some k n o w l e d g e of w h a t is noble and w h a t is base. But such k n o w l e d g e transcends n i h i l ism. In order to be entitled to describe Weber's n i h i l i s m as noble, one must h a v e broken w i t h h i s position. One could m a k e the following objection to the foregoing criticism. W h a t Weber r e a l l y meant cannot be expressed in terms of " v a l u e s " or " i d e a l s " at a l l ; it is much more adeq u a t e l y expressed b y h i s quotation "Become w h a t thou a r t , " i . e . , "Choose t h y f a t e . " According t o t h i s interpretation, Weber rejected objective norms because objective norms are incompatible w i t h human freedom or w i t h the p o s s i b i l i t y of a c t i n g . We must l e a v e it open w h e t h e r t h i s reason for rejecting 16.

Wissenschajtskhre, pp. 60-61, 184, 546, 554.


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objective norms is a good reason and w h e t h e r the n i h i l i s t i c consequence w o u l d be avoided by this interpretation of Weber's v i e w . It is sufficient to remark t h a t its acceptance w o u l d require a break w i t h the notions of " v a l u e " and " i d e a l " on w h i c h Weber's a c t u a l doctrine is built and t h a t it is t h a t a c t u a l doctrine, and not the possible interpretation mentioned, w h i c h dominates present-day social science. M a n y social scientists of our time seem to regard n i h i l i s m as a minor inconvenience w h i c h w i s e men w o u l d bear w i t h equan i m i t y , since it is the price one h a s to p a y for obtaining t h a t h i g h e s t good, a t r u l y scientific social science. They seem to be satisfied w i t h any scientific findings, a l t h o u g h t h e y cannot be more than "barren truths w h i c h generate no c o n c l u s i o n , " the conclusions being generated by purely subjective v a l u e judgments or a r b i t r a r y preferences. We h a v e to consider, therefore, w h e t h e r social science as a p u r e l y theoretical pursuit, but s t i l l as a pursuit l e a d i n g to the understanding of social phenomena, is possible on the basis of the distinction between facts and values. We remind ourselves a g a i n of Weber's statement about the prospects of Western c i v i l i z a t i o n . As we observed, Weber s a w the f o l l o w i n g a l t e r n a t i v e : either a spiritual renewal or else " m e c h a n i z e d petrifaction," i . e . , the extinction of every human p o s s i b i l i t y except t h a t of " s p e c i a l i s t s w i t h o u t spirit or vision and voluptuaries w i t h o u t h e a r t . " He concluded: " B u t by m a k i n g t h i s statement we enter the province of judgments of v a l u e and faith w i t h w h i c h t h i s p u r e l y historical presentation s h a l l not be burdened." It is not proper, then, for the h i s torian or social scientist, it is not permissible, t h a t he truthfully describe a certain type of life as s p i r i t u a l l y empty or describe specialists w i t h o u t vision and voluptuaries w i t h o u t heart as w h a t t h e y are. But is t h i s not absurd? Is it not the p l a i n d u t y of the social scientist truthfully and faithfully to present social phenomena? H o w can we g i v e a causal e x p l a n a -

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tion of a social phenomenon if we do not first see it as w h a t it is? Do we not k n o w petrifaction or s p i r i t u a l emptiness w h e n we see it? And if someone is incapable of seeing phenomena of t h i s k i n d , is he not disqualified by t h i s v e r y fact from being a social scientist, just as much as a blind m a n is disqualified from being an a n a l y s t of p a i n t i n g ? Weber w a s p a r t i c u l a r l y concerned w i t h the sociology of ethics and of r e l i g i o n . T h a t sociology presupposes a fundamental distinction between " e t h o s " a n d "techniques of l i v i n g " (or " p r u d e n t i a l " r u l e s ) . The sociologist must then be able to recognize an " e t h o s " in its distinctive character; he must have a feel for i t , an appreciation of i t , as Weber admitted. But does such appreciation not necessarily i m p l y a value judgment? Does it not i m p l y the r e a l i z a t i o n that a given phenomenon is a genuine " e t h o s " and not a mere "technique of l i v i n g ' ' ? W o u l d one not l a u g h out of court a man w h o claimed to have w r i t t e n a s o c i o l o g y of art but w h o a c t u a l l y h a d w r i t ten a sociology of trash? The sociologist of religion must d i s tinguish between phenomena w h i c h h a v e a r e l i g i o u s character and phenomena w h i c h are a-religious. To be able to do t h i s , he must k n o w w h a t r e l i g i o n i s , he must h a v e understanding of r e l i g i o n . N o w , contrary to w h a t Weber suggested, such understanding enables and forces h i m to d i s t i n g u i s h between genuine and spurious r e l i g i o n , between h i g h e r and l o w e r r e l i g i o n s : those religions are h i g h e r in w h i c h the specifically r e l i g i o u s motivations are effective to a h i g h e r degree. Or s h a l l we s a y t h a t the sociologist is permitted to note the presence or absence of r e l i g i o n or of "ethos"—for t h i s w o u l d be merely factual observation—but must not dare to pronounce on the degree to w h i c h it is present, i . e . , on the r a n k of the p a r t i c u l a r religion or " e t h o s " he is studying? The sociologist of r e l i g i o n cannot help noting the difference between those w h o t r y to g a i n the favor of their gods by flattering and bribing them and those w h o t r y to g a i n it by a change of h e a r t . Can he see t h i s


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difference w i t h o u t seeing at the same time the difference of r a n k w h i c h it i m p l i e s , the difference between a mercenary and a nonmercenary attitude? Is he not forced to realize t h a t the attempt to bribe the gods is t a n t a m o u n t to t r y i n g to be the lord or e m p l o y e r of the gods and t h a t there is a fundamental i n c o n g r u i t y between such attempts and w h a t men divine w h e n s p e a k i n g of gods? In fact, Weber's w h o l e sociology of r e l i g i o n stands or falls by such distinctions as those between " e t h i c s of i n t e n t i o n " and " p r i e s t l y f o r m a l i s m " ( o r "petrified m a x i m s " ) ; " s u b l i m e " r e l i g i o u s t h o u g h t and " p u r e s o r c e r y " ; " t h e fresh source of a r e a l l y , and not m e r e l y apparently, profound ins i g h t " and " a maze o f w h o l l y u n i n t u i t i v e , symbolistic i m a g e s " ; " p l a s t i c i m a g i n a t i o n " and " b o o k i s h t h i n k i n g . " His w o r k w o u l d be not merely dull but a b s o l u t e l y meaningless if he did not speak almost c o n s t a n t l y of p r a c t i c a l l y a l l intellect u a l and moral virtues and vices in the appropriate l a n g u a g e , i . e . , in the l a n g u a g e of praise and blame. I h a v e in m i n d e x pressions l i k e t h e s e : " g r a n d f i g u r e s , " "incomparable grand e u r , " "perfection t h a t is nowhere surpassed," "pseudo-syst e m a t i c s , " " t h i s l a x i t y w a s undoubtedly a product of decline," "absolutely unartistic," "ingenious explanations," " h i g h l y e d u c a t e d , " " u n r i v a l e d majestic a c c o u n t , " " p o w e r , p l a s t i c i t y , and precision of f o r m u l a t i o n , " " s u b l i m e character of the e t h i c a l d e m a n d s , " "perfect inner consistency," " c r u d e and abstruse n o t i o n s , " " m a n l y b e a u t y , " " p u r e and deep conv i c t i o n , " " i m p r e s s i v e a c h i e v e m e n t , " " w o r k s of art of the first r a n k . " Weber paid some attention to the influence of Puritanism on poetry, music, and so on. He noted a certain n e g a t i v e effect of Puritanism on these a r t s . This fact ( i f it is a f a c t ) o w e s i t s relevance e x c l u s i v e l y to the circumstance t h a t a genuinely r e l i g i o u s impulse of a v e r y h i g h order w a s the cause of the decline of art, i . e . , of the " d r y i n g - u p " of previously e x isting genuine and h i g h art. For, c l e a r l y , no one in h i s senses w o u l d v o l u n t a r i l y p a y the s l i g h t e s t attention to a case in

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w h i c h a l a n g u i s h i n g superstition caused the production of trash. In the case studied by Weber, the cause w a s a genuine and h i g h r e l i g i o n , and the effect w a s the decline of a r t : both the cause and the effect become v i s i b l e o n l y on the basis of v a l u e judgments as distinguished from mere reference to v a l ues. Weber h a d to choose between blindness to the phenomena and v a l u e judgments. In his c a p a c i t y as a practicing social scientist, he chose w i s e l y . The p r o h i b i t i o n a g a i n s t v a l u e judgments in social science w o u l d l e a d to the consequence t h a t we are permitted to g i v e a s t r i c t l y factual description of the overt acts t h a t can be observed in concentration camps and perhaps an e q u a l l y factual a n a l y s i s of the m o t i v a t i o n of the actors concerned: we w o u l d not be permitted to speak of cruelty. Every reader of such a description w h o is not completely stupid w o u l d , of course, see t h a t the actions described are cruel. The factual description w o u l d , in truth, be a bitter satire. W h a t claimed to be a s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d report w o u l d be an u n u s u a l l y circumlocutory report. The w r i t e r w o u l d d e l i b e r a t e l y suppress h i s better k n o w l e d g e , or, to use W e b e r ' s favorite term, he w o u l d commit an act of i n t e l l e c t u a l dishonesty. Or, not to w a s t e a n y m o r a l a m m u n i t i o n on t h i n g s t h a t are not w o r t h y of i t , the w h o l e procedure reminds one of a c h i l d i s h game in w h i c h y o u lose if y o u pronounce certain w o r d s , to the use of w h i c h y o u are cons t a n t l y incited by your p l a y m a t e s . Weber, l i k e every other man w h o ever discussed social matters in a relevant manner, could not a v o i d speaking of avarice, greed, unscrupulousness, v a n i t y , devotion, sense of proportion, and s i m i l a r t h i n g s , i . e . , m a k i n g value judgments. He expressed i n d i g n a t i o n a g a i n s t people w h o did not see the difference between Gretchen and a 1 7

17. Ibid., pp. 380, 462, 481-83, 486, 493, 554; Religionsoziologie, I, 33, 82, 112 n., 185 ff., 429, 513; II, 165,167,173, 242 n., 285, 316, 370; III, 2 n., 118,139, 207, 209-10, 221, 241, 257, 268, 274, 3 2 3 , 382, 385 n.; Soziologie und Sozialfolitik, p. 469; Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft, pp. 240, 246, 249, 266.


.

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prostitute, i . e . , w h o failed to see the n o b i l i t y of sentiment present in the one but absent from the other. W h a t Weber i m plied can be formulated as f o l l o w s : prostitution is a recognized subject of s o c i o l o g y ; t h i s subject cannot be seen if the degrading character of prostitution is not seen at the same t i m e ; if one sees the f a c t " p r o s t i t u t i o n , ' ' as distinguished from an a r b i t r a r y abstraction, one h a s a l r e a d y made a v a l u e judgment. W h a t w o u l d become of p o l i t i c a l science if it w e r e not permitted to deal w i t h phenomena l i k e n a r r o w p a r t y spirit, boss r u l e , pressure groups, statesmanship, corruption, even m o r a l corruption, i . e . , w i t h phenomena w h i c h are, a s i t w e r e , constituted by v a l u e judgments? To put the terms designating such t h i n g s in q u o t a t i o n m a r k s is a c h i l d i s h t r i c k w h i c h enables one to t a l k of important subjects w h i l e denying the principles w i t h out w h i c h there cannot be important subjects—a t r i c k w h i c h is meant to a l l o w one to combine the a d v a n t a g e s of common sense w i t h the denial of common sense. Or can one s a y a n y t h i n g relevant on public opinion p o l l s , for example, w i t h o u t r e a l i z i n g the fact t h a t m a n y answers to the questionnaires are given by u n i n t e l l i g e n t , uninformed, deceitful, and i r r a t i o n a l people, and that not a few questions are formulated by people of the same caliber—can one s a y a n y t h i n g relevant about publ i c opinion polls w i t h o u t c o m m i t t i n g one v a l u e judgment after a n o t h e r ? 18

Or let us look at an example t h a t Weber himself discussed at some l e n g t h . The p o l i t i c a l scientist or h i s t o r i a n h a s , for e x a m p l e , to e x p l a i n actions of statesmen and generals, i . e . , he h a s to trace t h e i r actions to t h e i r causes. He cannot do t h i s w i t h o u t a n s w e r i n g the question of w h e t h e r the action concerned w a s caused by r a t i o n a l consideration of means and ends or by emotional factors, for e x a m p l e . For t h i s purpose he h a s to construct the model of a perfectly 18. Wissenscbajtslehre, pp. 331, 435-36.

p.

158;

Religionssoziologic,

I,

41,

170 n.; Politische Scbrijten,


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r a t i o n a l action i n the given circumstances. O n l y t h u s w i l l he be able to see w h i c h n o n r a t i o n a l factors, if a n y , deflected the action from the s t r i c t l y r a t i o n a l course. Weber admitted t h a t t h i s procedure i m p l i e s e v a l u a t i o n : w e are forced to s a y t h a t the actor in question made t h i s or t h a t m i s t a k e . But, Weber argued, the construction of the model and the ensuing v a l u e judgment on the d e v i a t i o n from the model are m e r e l y a t r a n s i t i o n a l stage in the process of causal e x p l a n a t i o n . As good children, we are then to forget as soon as possible w h a t , in passing b y , we could not help noticing but w e r e not supposed to notice. But, in the first p l a c e , if the historian s h o w s , by o b j e c t i v e l y measuring the action of a statesman a g a i n s t the model of " r a t i o n a l action in the c i r c u m s t a n c e s , " t h a t the statesman made one blunder after another, he m a k e s an objective v a l u e judgment to the effect t h a t the statesman w a s s i n g u l a r l y inept. In another case t h e historian arrives by the same procedure at the e q u a l l y objective v a l u e judgment t h a t a general showed unusual resourcefulness, resolution, and prudence. It is impossible to understand phenomena of t h i s k i n d w i t h o u t being a w a r e of the standard of judgment t h a t is inherent in the situation and accepted as a m a t t e r of course by the actors themselves; and it is impossible not to m a k e use of t h a t standard by a c t u a l l y e v a l u a t i n g . In the second place, one m a y wonder w h e t h e r w h a t Weber regarded a s merely incidental or t r a n s i t i o n a l — n a m e l y , the i n s i g h t into the w a y s of f o l l y and w i s d o m , of cowardice and b r a v e r y , of barbarism and h u m a n i t y , and so on—is not more w o r t h y of t h e interest of the h i s t o r i a n t h a n a n y causal e x p l a n a t i o n a l o n g Weberian l i n e s . As for the question w h e t h e r the i n e v i t a b l e and unobjectionable v a l u e judgments should be expressed or suppressed, it is r e a l l y the question of h o w t h e y should be expressed, " w h e r e , w h e n , b y w h o m , and t o w a r d w h o m " ; i t belongs, therefore, before another t r i b u n a l t h a n t h a t of t h e m e t h o d o l o g y of the social sciences. 19

19. Wissinschaftslthrc, pp. 125, 129-30, 337-38; Soxjolope und Sozialpolitik, p. 483.


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Social science could a v o i d v a l u e judgments only by keeping s t r i c t l y w i t h i n the l i m i t s of a purely h i s t o r i c a l or "interpret i v e " approach. The social scientist w o u l d h a v e t o b o w w i t h out a m u r m u r to the self-interpretation of h i s subjects. He w o u l d be forbidden to speak of " m o r a l i t y , " " r e l i g i o n , " " a r t , " " c i v i l i z a t i o n , " and so on, w h e n interpreting the t h o u g h t of peoples or tribes w h o are u n a w a r e of such notions. On the o t h e r hand, he w o u l d h a v e to accept as m o r a l i t y , rel i g i o n , art, k n o w l e d g e , state, etc., w h a t e v e r claimed to be m o r a l i t y , r e l i g i o n , art, etc. As a matter of fact, there exists a s o c i o l o g y of k n o w l e d g e according to w h i c h e v e r y t h i n g t h a t pretends to be k n o w l e d g e — e v e n if it is notorious nonsense— h a s to be accepted as k n o w l e d g e by the sociologist. Weber himself identified the t y p e s of l e g i t i m a t e rule w i t h w h a t are t h o u g h t to be types of l e g i t i m a t e r u l e . But t h i s l i m i t a t i o n e x poses one to the danger of falling v i c t i m to every deception and every self-deception of the people one is s t u d y i n g ; it penalizes every c r i t i c a l a t t i t u d e ; t a k e n by itself, it deprives social science of e v e r y possible v a l u e . The self-interpretation of a blundering general cannot be accepted by the p o l i t i c a l h i s torian, and t h e self-interpretation of a s i l l y r h y m e r cannot be accepted by the historian of l i t e r a t u r e . Nor can the social scientist afford to rest content w i t h the interpretation of a given phenomenon t h a t is accepted by the group w i t h i n w h i c h it occurs. Are groups less l i a b l e to deceive themselves than individuals? It w a s e a s y for Weber to m a k e the following demand: " W h a t is alone important [for describing a given q u a l i t y as c h a r i s m a t i c ] i s h o w the i n d i v i d u a l i s a c t u a l l y regarded b y those subject to c h a r i s m a t i c a u t h o r i t y , by h i s 'followers' or 'disciples.' " E i g h t lines l a t e r , we r e a d : " A n o t h e r type [of charismatic l e a d e r ] is t h a t of J o s e p h S m i t h , the founder of M o r m o n i s m , w h o , however, cannot be classified in t h i s w a y w i t h absolute c e r t a i n t y since there is a p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t he w a s a very sophisticated t y p e of s w i n d l e r , " i . e . , t h a t he m e r e l y pretended to h a v e a charisma. It w o u l d be unfair to insist on

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the fact t h a t the German o r i g i n a l i s , to s a y the least, much less e x p l i c i t and e m p h a t i c t h a n the E n g l i s h t r a n s l a t i o n ; for the problem i m p l i c i t l y raised by the t r a n s l a t o r — n a m e l y , the problem concerning the difference between genuine and pretended c h a r i s m a , between genuine prophets and pseudo-prophets, between genuine leaders and successful charlatans—cannot be disposed of by s i l e n c e . The sociologist cannot be obliged to abide by the l e g a l fictions w h i c h a g i v e n group never dared to regard as l e g a l fictions; he is forced to m a k e a distinction bet w e e n h o w a g i v e n group a c t u a l l y conceives of the a u t h o r i t y by w h i c h it is ruled and the true character of the a u t h o r i t y in question. On the other hand, the s t r i c t l y historical approach, w h i c h l i m i t s itself t o understanding people i n the w a y i n w h i c h t h e y understand themselves, m a y be v e r y fruitful if kept in i t s place. By r e a l i z i n g t h i s , we grasp a l e g i t i m a t e motive u n d e r l y i n g the demand for a n o n e v a l u a t i n g social science. 20

T o d a y it is t r i v i a l to s a y t h a t the social scientist o u g h t not to judge societies other than his o w n by the standards of h i s society. It is h i s boast t h a t he does not praise or blame, but understands. But he cannot understand w i t h o u t a conceptual framework or a frame of reference. N o w h i s frame of reference is more l i k e l y t h a n not to be a mere reflection of the w a y in w h i c h h i s o w n society understands itself in h i s time. Accordi n g l y , he w i l l interpret societies other than h i s o w n in terms t h a t are w h o l l y alien to those societies. He w i l l force these societies into the Procrustean bed of h i s conceptual scheme. He w i l l not understand these societies as t h e y understand themselves. Since the self-interpretation of a society is an essential element of its being, he w i l l not understand these societies as t h e y r e a l l y are. And since one cannot understand one's o w n society a d e q u a t e l y if one does not understand other societies, he w i l l not even be able r e a l l y to understand h i s o w n 20. The Theory of Social and Economic Organization (Oxford University Press, 1947), pp. 359, 361; compare Wirtschajt und Gesellschaft, pp. 140-41, 753.


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society. He h a s then to understand various societies of the past and present, or significant " p a r t s " of those societies, e x a c t l y as t h e y understand or understood themselves. W i t h i n the l i m its of t h i s p u r e l y historical and hence merely preparatory or a n c i l l a r y w o r k , that k i n d o f o b j e c t i v i t y w h i c h implies the foregoing of evaluations is l e g i t i m a t e and even indispensable from e v e r y point of v i e w . P a r t i c u l a r l y in regard to such a phenomenon as a doctrine, it is obvious t h a t one cannot judge of i t s soundness or explain it in sociological or other terms before one h a s understood i t , i . e . , before one h a s understood it e x a c t l y as i t s o r i g i n a t o r understood i t . It is curious t h a t Weber, w h o w a s so fond of t h a t k i n d of o b j e c t i v i t y w h i c h requires the forgoing of value judgments, w a s almost blind in regard to the sphere w h i c h m a y be said to be the home, and the o n l y home, of nonevaluating o b j e c t i v i t y . He realized c l e a r l y t h a t the conceptual framework w h i c h he used w a s rooted in the social situation of h i s time. It is e a s y to see, for instance, t h a t h i s distinction of three ideal types of l e g i t i m a c y ( t r a d i t i o n a l , r a t i o n a l , and c h a r i s m a t i c ) reflects the situation as it existed in Continental Europe after the French Revolution w h e n the struggle between the residues of the preR e v o l u t i o n a r y regimes and the R e v o l u t i o n a r y regimes w a s understood as a contest between t r a d i t i o n and reason. The manifest i n a d e q u a c y of this scheme, w h i c h perhaps fitted the situation in the nineteenth century but h a r d l y a n y other situation, forced Weber to add the c h a r i s m a t i c type of l e g i t i m a c y to the t w o t y p e s imposed on h i m by his environment. But t h i s a d d i t i o n d i d not remove, it merely concealed, the basic l i m i t a tion inherent in his scheme. The addition created the impression t h a t the scheme w a s n o w comprehensive, but, in fact, it could not be made comprehensive by a n y additions because of i t s p a r o c h i a l o r i g i n : not a comprehensive reflection on the nature of p o l i t i c a l society but m e r e l y the experience of t w o or three generations h a d supplied the basic orientation. Since

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Weber believed t h a t no conceptual scheme used by social science can be of more t h a n ephemeral v a l i d i t y , he w a s not seriously disturbed by t h i s state of affairs. In p a r t i c u l a r , he w a s not seriously disturbed by the danger t h a t the imposition of his definitely " d a t e d " scheme m i g h t prevent the unbiased understanding of e a r l i e r p o l i t i c a l s i t u a t i o n s . He did not w o n der w h e t h e r h i s scheme fitted the manner in w h i c h , s a y , the protagonists of the g r e a t p o l i t i c a l conflicts recorded in h i s t o r y h a d conceived of their causes, t h a t is to s a y , the manner in w h i c h t h e y h a d conceived of the principles of l e g i t i m a c y . For fundamentally the same reason, he d i d not hesitate to describe Plato as an " i n t e l l e c t u a l , " w i t h o u t for one moment considering the fact t h a t the w h o l e w o r k of Plato m a y be described as a critique of the notion of " t h e i n t e l l e c t u a l . " He did not hesitate to consider the d i a l o g u e between the A t h e n i a n s and M e l i a n s in T h u c y d i d e s ' History as a sufficient basis for asserting t h a t " i n the Hellenic polis of the c l a s s i c a l t i m e , a most n a k e d ' M a c h i a v e l l i a n i s m ' w a s regarded as a m a t t e r of course in every respect and as w h o l l y unobjectionable from an e t h i c a l point of v i e w . " To s a y n o t h i n g of other considerations, he did not pause to w o n d e r h o w T h u c y d i d e s himself h a d conceived of t h a t d i a l o g u e . He did not h e s i t a t e to w r i t e : " T h e fact t h a t E g y p t i a n sages praised obedience, silence, and absence of presumptuousness as g o d l y v i r t u e s , h a d i t s source in bureaucratic subordination. In Israel, the source w a s the plebeian character of the c l i e n t e l e . " S i m i l a r l y , h i s s o c i o l o g i c a l e x p l a n a t i o n of Hindu t h o u g h t is based on the premise t h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t "of a n y k i n d " presupposes the n a t u r a l e q u a l i t y of a l l men, if not even a blessed state at the beginning and at the end. Or, to t a k e w h a t is perhaps the most t e l l i n g e x a m p l e , w h e n discussing the question of w h a t h a s to be regarded as the essence of a historical phenomenon l i k e C a l v i n i s m , Weber s a i d : By c a l l i n g somet h i n g the essence of a historical phenomenon, one either means t h a t aspect of the phenomenon w h i c h one considers to


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be of permanent v a l u e , or else t h a t aspect through w h i c h it exercised t h e greatest historical influence. He did not even a l lude to a t h i r d p o s s i b i l i t y , w h i c h i s , in fact, the first and most obvious one, n a m e l y , t h a t the essence of C a l v i n i s m , e.g., w o u l d h a v e to be identified w i t h w h a t Calvin himself regarded as the essence, or as the chief characteristic, of h i s work. 21

Weber's m e t h o d o l o g i c a l principles w e r e bound to affect h i s w o r k in an adverse manner. We s h a l l i l l u s t r a t e t h i s by g l a n c ing at h i s most famous h i s t o r i c a l e s s a y , h i s study on Protestant ethics and the spirit of c a p i t a l i s m . He contended t h a t C a l v i n ist t h e o l o g y w a s a major cause of the capitalist spirit. He stressed the fact t h a t the effect w a s in no w a y intended by C a l v i n , t h a t C a l v i n w o u l d h a v e been shocked by it, and— w h a t is more important—that the crucial l i n k in the chain of causation (a peculiar interpretation of the dogma of predestin a t i o n ) w a s rejected b y C a l v i n but emerged " q u i t e n a t u r a l l y " among the epigones and, above a l l , among the broad stratum of the general run of C a l v i n i s t s . N o w , if one speaks about a t e a c h i n g of the r a n k of C a l v i n ' s , the mere reference to " e p i g o n e s " and the " g e n e r a l r u n " of men implies a value judgment on t h a t interpretation of the dogma of predestination w h i c h these people adopted: epigones and the general run of men are very l i k e l y to miss the decisive point. Weber's implied v a l u e judgment is fully justified in the e y e s of everyone w h o h a s understood the t h e o l o g i c a l doctrine of C a l v i n ; the p e c u l i a r interpretation of the dogma of predestination t h a t a l l e g e d l y led to the emergence of the c a p i t a l i s t i c spirit is based on a radical misunderstanding of C a l v i n ' s doctrine. It is a corruption of t h a t doctrine or, to use C a l v i n ' s o w n l a n g u a g e , it is a carnal interpretation of a spiritual teaching. The m a x i m u m t h a t Weber could reasonably h a v e claimed to have proved i s , 21. Religionssoziologie, I, 89; II, 136 n., 143-45; III, 232-33; Wissenschaftslehre, pp. 93-95, 170-73, 184, 199, 206-9, 214, 249-50.

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then, t h a t a corruption or degeneration of C a l v i n ' s t h e o l o g y led to the emergence of the c a p i t a l i s t spirit. O n l y by means of t h i s decisive qualification can h i s thesis be brought into even approximate h a r m o n y w i t h the facts to w h i c h he refers. But he w a s prevented from m a k i n g t h i s crucial qualification because he h a d imposed on himself the taboo regarding v a l u e judgments. By a v o i d i n g an indispensable v a l u e judgment, he w a s forced into g i v i n g a f a c t u a l l y incorrect picture of w h a t h a d happened. For h i s fear of value judgments prompted h i m to identify the essence of C a l v i n i s m w i t h i t s h i s t o r i c a l l y most influential aspect. He instinctively avoided identifying the e s sence of C a l v i n i s m w i t h w h a t C a l v i n himself considered essent i a l , because C a l v i n ' s self-interpretation w o u l d n a t u r a l l y act as a standard by w h i c h to judge o b j e c t i v e l y the C a l v i n i s t s w h o claimed to follow C a l v i n . 22

22. Religionssoziologie, I, 81-82, 103-4, 112. One can hardly say that the problem stated by Weber in his study on the spirit of capitalism has been solved. To prepare a solution, one would have to free Weber's formulation of the problem from the particular limitation which was due to his "Kantianism." He may be said to have rightly identified the spirit of capitalism with the view that limitless accumulation of capital and profitable investment of capital is a moral duty, and perhaps the highest moral duty, and to have rightly contended that this spirit is characteristic of the modern Western world. But he also said that the spirit of capitalism consists in regarding the limitless accumulation of capital as an end in itself. He could not prove the latter contention except by referring to dubious or ambiguous impressions. He was forced to make that contention because he assumed that "moral duty" and "end in itself" arc identical. His "Kantianism" also forced him to sever every connection between "moral duty" and "the common good." He was forced to introduce into his analysis of earlier moral thought a distinction, not warranted by the texts, between the "ethical" justification of the unlimited accumulation of capital and its "utilitarian" justification. As a consequence of his peculiar notion of "ethics," every reference to the common good in earlier literature tended to appear to him as a lapse into low utilitarianism. One may venture to say that no writer outside mental institutions ever justified the duty, or the moral right, to unlimited acquisition on any other ground rhan that of service to the common good. The problem of the genesis of the capitalist spirit is then identical with the problem of the emergence of the minor premise, "but the unlimited accumulation of capital is most conducive to the common good." For the major premise, "it is our duty to devote ourselves to the common good or to the love of our neighbors," was not affected by the emergence of the capitalist spirit. That major


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The rejection of v a l u e judgments endangers h i s t o r i c a l object i v i t y . In the first p l a c e , it prevents one from c a l l i n g a spade a spade. In the second place, it endangers t h a t k i n d of objectivi t y w h i c h l e g i t i m a t e l y requires the forgoing of e v a l u a t i o n s , n a m e l y , the o b j e c t i v i t y of interpretation. The historian w h o premise was accepted by both the philosophic and the theological tradition. The question, then, is which transformation of the philosophic or of the theological tradition or of both caused the emergence of the minor premise mentioned. Weber took it for granted that the cause must be sought in the transformation of the theological tradition, i.e., in the Reformation. But he did not succeed in tracing the capitalist spirit to the Reformation or, in particular, to Calvinism except by the use of "historical dialectics" or by means of questionable psychological constructions. The utmost one could say is that he traced the capitalist spirit to the corruption of Calvinism. Tawney rightly pointed out that the capitalist Puritanism studied by Weber was late Puritanism or that it was the Puritanism that had already made its peace with "the world." This means that the Puritanism in question had made its peace with the capitalist world already in existence: the Puritanism in question was then not the cause of the capitalist world or of the capitalist spirit. If it is impossible to trace the capitalist spirit to the Reformation, one is forced to wonder whether the minor premise under consideration did not emerge through the transformation of the philosophic tradition, as distinguished from the transformation of the theological tradition. Weber considered the possibility that the origin of the capitalist spirit might have to be sought in the Renaissance, but, as he rightly observed, the Renaissance as such was an attempt to restore the spirit of classical antiquity, i.e., a spirit wholly different from the capitalist spirit. What he failed to consider was that in the course of the sixteenth century there was a conscious break with the whole philosophic tradition, a break that took place on the plane of purely philosophic or rational or secular thought. This break was originated by Machiavelli, and it led to the moral teachings of Bacon and Hobbes: thinkers whose writings preceded by decades those writings of their Puritan countrymen on which Weber's thesis is based. One can hardly say more than that Puritanism, having broken more radically with the "pagan" philosophic tradition (i.e., chiefly with Aristotelianism) thin Roman Catholicism and Lutheranism had done, was more open to the new philosophy than were the latter. Puritanism thus could become a very important, and perhaps the most important, "carrier'' of the new philosophy both natural and moral— of a philosophy which had been created by men of an entirely non-Puritan stamp. In brief, Weber overestimated the importance of the revolution that had taken place on the plane of theology, and he underestimated the importance of the revolution that had taken place on the plane of rational thought. By paying more careful attention than he did to the purely secular development, one would also be able to restore the connection, arbitrarily severed by him, between the emergence of the capitalist spirit and the emergence of the science of economics (cf. also Ernst Troeltsch, The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches [1949], pp. 624 and 894).

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t a k e s it for granted t h a t objective v a l u e judgments are impossible cannot t a k e v e r y seriously t h a t t h o u g h t of the past w h i c h w a s based on the assumption t h a t objective value judgments are possible, i . e . , p r a c t i c a l l y a l l t h o u g h t of earlier generations. Knowing beforehand t h a t t h a t t h o u g h t w a s based on a fundamental delusion, he l a c k s the necessary incentive for t r y i n g to understand the past as it understood itself. Almost a l l t h a t w e h a v e said u p t o t h i s point w a s necessary in order to clear a w a y the most important obstacles to an understanding of We ber's central t h e s i s . Only n o w are we able to grasp its precise meaning. Let us reconsider our last example. W h a t Weber should have said w a s t h a t the corruption of C a l v i n i s t t h e o l o g y led to the emergence of the c a p i t a l i s t spirit. This w o u l d have implied an objective v a l u e judgment on vulg a r C a l v i n i s m : the epigones u n w i t t i n g l y destroyed w h a t t h e y intended to preserve. Yet this implied value judgment is of very l i m i t e d significance. It does not prejudge the real issue in a n y w a y . For, assuming t h a t C a l v i n i s t t h e o l o g y w e r e a bad t h i n g , i t s corruption w a s a good t h i n g . W h a t C a l v i n w o u l d have considered a " c a r n a l " understanding could, from another point of v i e w , be approved as a " t h i s - w o r l d l y " understanding, l e a d i n g to such good t h i n g s as secularist i n d i v i d u a l i s m and secularist democracy. Even from t h e l a t t e r point of v i e w , v u l g a r C a l v i n i s m w o u l d appear as an impossible position, a h a l f w a y house, but preferable to C a l v i n i s m proper for the same reason t h a t Sancho Panza m a y be said to be preferable to Don Quixote. The rejection of v u l g a r C a l v i n i s m is then ine v i t a b l e from every point of v i e w . But t h i s merely means t h a t only after h a v i n g rejected v u l g a r C a l v i n i s m is one faced w i t h the real issue: the issue of r e l i g i o n versus irreligion, i . e . , of genuine r e l i g i o n versus noble i r r e l i g i o n , as distinguished from the issue of mere sorcery, or m e c h a n i c a l r i t u a l i s m versus the irreligion of specialists w i t h o u t vision and voluptuaries w i t h out heart. It is t h i s real issue w h i c h , according to Weber, can-


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not be settled by human reason, just as the conflict between different genuine religions of the h i g h e s t rank ( e . g . , the conflict between Deutero-Isaiah, J e s u s , and B u d d h a ) cannot be settled by h u m a n reason. Thus, in spite of the fact t h a t social science stands or falls by v a l u e judgments, social science or social p h i l o s o p h y cannot settle the decisive v a l u e conflicts. It is indeed true t h a t one h a s a l r e a d y passed a v a l u e judgment w h e n s p e a k i n g of Gretchen and a prostitute. But t h i s v a l u e judgment proves to be m e r e l y provisional the moment one comes face to face w i t h a r a d i c a l l y ascetic position w h i c h condemns a l l s e x u a l i t y . From t h i s point of v i e w , the open degradation of s e x u a l i t y t h r o u g h prostitution m a y appear to be a cleaner t h i n g than the disguise of the true nature of s e x u a l i t y through sentiment and poetry. It is indeed true t h a t one cannot speak of h u m a n affairs w i t h o u t praising the intellectual and moral v i r t u e s and b l a m i n g the i n t e l l e c t u a l and moral vices. But t h i s does not dispose of the p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t a l l h u m a n v i r t u e s w o u l d u l t i m a t e l y h a v e to be judged to be no more t h a n splendid v i c e s . It w o u l d be absurd to deny t h a t there is an objective difference between a blundering general and a strategic g e n i u s . But if w a r is a b s o l u t e l y e v i l , the difference between the blundering general and the strategic genius w i l l be on the same level as the difference between a blundering thief and a genius in thievery. It seems, then, t h a t w h a t Weber r e a l l y meant by h i s rejection of v a l u e judgments w o u l d h a v e to be expressed as f o l l o w s : The objects of the social sciences are constituted by reference to v a l u e s . Reference to v a l u e s presupposes appreciation of v a l ues. Such appreciation enables and forces the social scientist to e v a l u a t e the social phenomena, i . e . , to distinguish between the genuine and the spurious and between the h i g h e r and the l o w e r : between genuine r e l i g i o n and spurious r e l i g i o n , between genuine leaders and c h a r l a t a n s , between k n o w l e d g e and mere lore or sophistry, between virtue and vice, between

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moral s e n s i t i v i t y and moral obtuseness, between art and trash, between v i t a l i t y and degeneracy, etc. Reference to v a l u e s is incompatible w i t h n e u t r a l i t y ; it can never be " p u r e l y theoretic a l . " But n o n n e u t r a l i t y does not n e c e s s a r i l y mean approval; it m a y also mean rejection. In fact, since the various v a l u e s are incompatible w i t h one another, the approval of a n y one v a l u e necessarily i m p l i e s the rejection of some other v a l u e or v a l u e s . Only on the basis of such acceptance or rejection of v a l u e s , of " u l t i m a t e v a l u e s , " do the objects of the social sciences come to s i g h t . For a l l further w o r k , for the c a u s a l a n a l y s i s of these objects, it must be a m a t t e r of indifference w h e t h e r the student h a s accepted or rejected the value in q u e s t i o n . 23

At a n y rate, Weber's w h o l e notion of the scope and function of the social sciences rests on the a l l e g e d l y demonstrable premise t h a t the conflict between u l t i m a t e v a l u e s cannot be resolved by h u m a n reason. The question is w h e t h e r t h a t premise h a s r e a l l y been demonstrated, or w h e t h e r it h a s merely been postulated under the impulse of a specific moral preference. At the threshold of Weber's attempt to demonstrate h i s basic premise, we encounter t w o s t r i k i n g facts. The first is t h a t Weber, w h o w r o t e thousands of p a g e s , devoted h a r d l y more t h a n t h i r t y of them to a t h e m a t i c discussion of the basis of h i s w h o l e position. W h y w a s t h a t basis so l i t t l e in need of proof? W h y w a s it self-evident to him? A provisional answer is supplied by the second observation we can m a k e prior to a n y a n a l y s i s of h i s arguments. As he indicated at the beginning of his discussion of the subject, h i s thesis w a s o n l y the generalized version of an older and more common v i e w , n a m e l y , t h a t the conflict between ethics and p o l i t i c s is insoluble: p o l i t i c a l action is sometimes impossible w i t h o u t incurring moral g u i l t . It seems, then, t h a t it w a s the spirit of " p o w e r p o l i t i c s " t h a t begot Weber's position. N o t h i n g is more revealing t h a n the fact t h a t , in a related context w h e n s p e a k i n g of conflict and 23. Wisscenchaftslehre, pp. 90, 124-25, 175, 180-82, 199.


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peace, Weber put " p e a c e " in quotation m a r k s , w h e r e a s he d i d not t a k e t h i s precautionary measure w h e n speaking of conflict. Conflict w a s for Weber an unambiguous t h i n g , but peace w a s not: peace is phony, but w a r is r e a l . 24

Weber's thesis t h a t there is no solution to the conflict between v a l u e s w a s then a part, or a consequence, of the comprehensive v i e w according to w h i c h human life is e s s e n t i a l l y an inescapable conflict. For t h i s r e a s o n , " p e a c e and universal h a p p i n e s s " appeared to h i m to be an i l l e g i t i m a t e or fantastic g o a l . Even if t h a t goal could be reached, he t h o u g h t , it w o u l d not be desirable; it w o u l d be the condition of " t h e last men w h o have invented h a p p i n e s s , " a g a i n s t w h o m Nietzsche h a d directed h i s " d e v a s t a t i n g c r i t i c i s m . " If peace is incompatible w i t h h u m a n life or w i t h a t r u l y h u m a n life, the moral problem w o u l d seem to a l l o w of a clear solution: the nature of t h i n g s requires a w a r r i o r ethics as the basis of a " p o w e r p o l i t i c s " t h a t is guided e x c l u s i v e l y by considerations of the n a t i o n a l interest; or " t h e most naked M a c h i a v e l l i a n i s m [ w o u l d h a v e to b e ] regarded as a m a t t e r of course in every respect, and as w h o l l y unobjectionable from an ethical point of v i e w . " But we w o u l d then be confronted w i t h the paradoxical situation t h a t the i n d i v i d u a l is at peace w i t h himself w h i l e the w o r l d is ruled by w a r . The strife-torn w o r l d demands a strife-torn indiv i d u a l . The strife w o u l d not go to the root of the i n d i v i d u a l , if he w e r e not forced to negate the v e r y principle of w a r : he must negate the w a r from w h i c h he cannot escape and to w h i c h he must dedicate himself, as e v i l or sinful. Lest there be peace a n y w h e r e , peace must not be simply rejected. It is not sufficient to recognize peace as the necessary breathing time between w a r s . There must be an absolute d u t y directing us t o w a r d u n i versal peace or universal brotherhood, a d u t y conflicting w i t h the e q u a l l y h i g h d u t y t h a t directs us to participate in " t h e eternal s t r u g g l e " for " e l b o w r o o m " for our nation. Conflict 24. Ibid., pp. 466, 479; Politische Schrijten, pp. 17-18, 3 1 0 .

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w o u l d not be supreme if g u i l t could be escaped. The question of w h e t h e r one can speak of g u i l t , if m a n is forced to become g u i l t y , w a s no longer discussed by W e b e r : he needed the necessity of g u i l t . He h a d to combine the a n g u i s h bred by atheism (the absence of a n y redemption, of a n y s o l a c e ) w i t h the anguish bred by revealed r e l i g i o n ( t h e oppressive sense of g u i l t ) . W i t h o u t t h a t combination, life w o u l d cease to be t r a g i c and thus lose i t s d e p t h . 25

Weber assumed as a m a t t e r of course t h a t there is no hierarchy of v a l u e s : a l l v a l u e s are of the same r a n k . N o w , precisely if t h i s is the case, a social scheme t h a t satisfies the requirements of t w o v a l u e s is preferable to one w h o s e scope is more l i m i t e d . The comprehensive scheme m i g h t demand t h a t some of the requirements of each of the t w o values w o u l d h a v e to be sacrificed. In t h i s case the question w o u l d arise as to w h e t h e r the extreme or one-sided schemes are not so good a s , or are better t h a n , the a p p a r e n t l y more comprehensive schemes. To answer t h a t question, one w o u l d have to k n o w w h e t h e r it is at a l l possible to adopt one of the t w o v a l u e s , w h i l e unqualifiedly rejecting the other. If it is impossible, some sacrifice of the apparent requirements of the t w o component v a l u e s w o u l d be a dictate of reason. The o p t i m a l scheme m i g h t not be realizable except under certain v e r y favorable conditions, and the actual conditions here and n o w m a y be very unfavorable. T h i s w o u l d not deprive the o p t i m a l scheme of its importance, because it w o u l d remain indispensable as the basis for r a t i o n a l judgment about the various i m perfect schemes. In particular, its importance w o u l d be in no w a y affected by the fact t h a t in given s i t u a t i o n s one can choose only between t w o e q u a l l y imperfect schemes. Last but not least, in a l l reflections on such m a t t e r s one must not be obl i v i o u s for one moment of the general significance for social 25. Politische Schriften, pp. 18, 20; I, 568-69.

Wissenschajtslehre,

pp. 540, 550; Religionsozioologie,


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life of e x t r e m i s m , on the one h a n d , and moderation, on t h e other. Weber pushed a l l considerations of t h i s character aside by declaring t h a t " t h e middle line is no w h i t more scientific a l l y correct t h a n the most extreme p a r t y ideals of the r i g h t and the l e f t " and t h a t the m i d d l e line is even inferior to the extreme solutions, since it is less u n a m b i g u o u s . The question, of course, is w h e t h e r social science does not have to be concerned w i t h sensible solutions to social problems and w h e t h e r moderation is not more sensible t h a n extremism. H o w e v e r sensible Weber m a y have been as a p r a c t i c a l p o l i t i c i a n , h o w e v e r much he m a y h a v e abhorred the spirit of n a r r o w p a r t y f a n a t i cism, as a social scientist he approached social problems in a spirit t h a t h a d nothing in common w i t h the spirit of s t a t e s m a n s h i p and t h a t could serve no other practical end t h a n to encourage n a r r o w obstinacy. His u n s h a k a b l e faith in the supremacy of conflict forced h i m to h a v e at least as h i g h a regard for extremism as for moderate courses. 26

But we can no longer d e l a y turning to Weber's a t t e m p t s to prove h i s contention t h a t the u l t i m a t e values are s i m p l y in conflict w i t h one another. We s h a l l h a v e to l i m i t ourselves to a discussion of t w o or three specimens of h i s proofs. The first 27

26. Wissenschaftslehre,

pp. 154, 461.

27. While Weber referred rather frequently in general terms to a considerable number of insoluble value conflicts, his attempt to prove his basic contention is limited, as far as I can see, to the discussion of three or four examples. The example which will not be discussed in the text concerns the conflict between eroticism and all impersonal or supra-personal values: a genuine erotic relation between a man and a woman can be regarded, "from a certain standpoint," "as the sole or at any rate as the most royal road" to a genuine life; if someone opposes all saintliness or all goodness, all ethical or aesthetic norms, everything that is valuable from the point of view of culture or of personality, in the name of genuine erotic passion, reason has to be absolutely silent. The particular standpoint which permits or fosters this attitude is not, as one might expect, that of Carmen but that of intellectuals who suffer from the specialization or "professionalization" of life. To such people "marriage-free sexual life could appear as the only link that still connects man (who by then had completely left the cycle of the old, simple, and organic peasant existence) with the natural source of all life." It is probably sufficient to say that appearances may be deceptive. But we feel compelled to

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one is the example t h a t he used in order to i l l u s t r a t e the character of most issues of social p o l i c y . Social p o l i c y is concerned w i t h justice; but w h a t justice in s o c i e t y requires cannot be decided, according to Weber, by a n y ethics. T w o opposed v i e w s are e q u a l l y l e g i t i m a t e or defensible. According to the first v i e w , one o w e s much to h i m w h o achieves or contributes m u c h ; according to the second v i e w , one should demand much from h i m w h o can achieve or contribute much. If one adopts the first v i e w , one w o u l d h a v e to g r a n t g r e a t opportunities to great talent. If one adopts the second v i e w , one w o u l d have to prevent the talented i n d i v i d u a l from e x p l o i t i n g h i s superior opportunities. We s h a l l not complain about the loose w a y in w h i c h Weber stated w h a t he considered, r a t h e r strangely, an insuperable difficulty. We merely note t h a t he did not t h i n k it necessary to indicate a n y reason by w h i c h the first v i e w can be supported. The second v i e w , h o w e v e r , seemed to require an explicit argument. According to Weber, one m a y argue, as Babeuf did, in the following w a y : the injustice of the unequal distribution of mental gifts and the g r a t i f y i n g feeling of prest i g e w h i c h attends the mere possession of superior gifts h a v e to be compensated by social measures destined to prevent the talented i n d i v i d u a l from e x p l o i t i n g h i s great opportunities. Before one could s a y t h a t t h i s v i e w is tenable, one w o u l d h a v e to k n o w w h e t h e r it m a k e s sense to s a y t h a t nature committed an injustice by distributing her gifts u n e q u a l l y , w h e t h e r it is a d u t y of society to remedy t h a t injustice, and w h e t h e r e n v y h a s a r i g h t to be heard. But even if one w o u l d grant t h a t B a b e u f s add that, according to Weber, this late return to the most natural in man is bound up with what he chose to call "die systematische Herauspraparierung der Sexualsphare" Wissenschaftslehre, pp. 468-69; Religionssoziologie, I, 560-62). He thus proved indeed that eroticism as he understood it conflicts with " a l l esthetic norms"; but he proved at the same time that the intellectuals' attempt to escape specialization through eroticism merely leads to specialization in eroticism (cf. Wissenschaftslehre, p. 540). He proved, in other words, that his erotic Weltanschauung is not defensible before the tribunal of human reason.


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v i e w , as stated by Weber, is as defensible as the first v i e w , w h a t w o u l d follow? T h a t we h a v e to m a k e a blind choice? T h a t we h a v e to incite the adherents of the t w o opposed v i e w s to insist on their opinions w i t h a l l the obstinacy t h a t t h e y can muster? If, as Weber contends, no solution is m o r a l l y superior to the other, the reasonable consequence w o u l d be t h a t the decision h a s to be transferred from the tribunal of ethics to t h a t of convenience or expediency. Weber e m p h a t i c a l l y e x cluded considerations of expediency from the discussion of t h i s issue. If demands are made in the name of justice, he declared, consideration of w h i c h solution w o u l d supply the b e s t " i n c e n t i v e s " is out of place. But is there no connection between j u s tice and the good of society, and between the good of society and incentives to s o c i a l l y v a l u a b l e a c t i v i t y ? Precisely if Weber w e r e r i g h t i n asserting t h a t the t w o opposite v i e w s are e q u a l l y defensible, w o u l d social science as an objective science h a v e to s t i g m a t i z e as a crackpot a n y man w h o insisted t h a t o n l y one of the v i e w s is in accordance w i t h j u s t i c e . 28

Our second example is Weber's a l l e g e d proof t h a t there is an insoluble conflict between w h a t he c a l l s the " e t h i c s of respons i b i l i t y " and the " e t h i c s of i n t e n t i o n . " According to t h e former, m a n ' s responsibility extends to the foreseeable consequences of h i s actions, w h e r e a s , according to the l a t t e r , m a n ' s r e s p o n s i b i l i t y is l i m i t e d to the intrinsic rightness of h i s a c tions. W e b e r i l l u s t r a t e d the ethics of intention by the e x a m p l e of s y n d i c a l i s m : the s y n d i c a l i s t is concerned not w i t h the consequences or the success of h i s r e v o l u t i o n a r y a c t i v i t y but w i t h h i s o w n i n t e g r i t y , w i t h preserving i n himself and a w a k e n i n g in others a certain moral a t t i t u d e and nothing else. Even a conclusive proof t h a t in a given s i t u a t i o n h i s r e v o l u t i o n a r y a c t i v i t y w o u l d be destructive, for a l l the foreseeable future, of the very existence of revolutionary w o r k e r s w o u l d not be a v a l i d argument a g a i n s t a convinced s y n d i c a l i s t . Weber's convinced 28.

Wissenschaftslehre, p. 467.

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syndicalist is an ad hoc construction, as is s h o w n by his r e m a r k t h a t if the syndicalist is consistent, h i s k i n g d o m is not of t h i s w o r l d . In other w o r d s , if he were consistent, he w o u l d cease to be a s y n d i c a l i s t , i . e . , a man w h o is concerned w i t h the liberation of the w o r k i n g class in t h i s w o r l d , and by means belonging to t h i s w o r l d . The ethics of intention, w h i c h Weber imputed to s y n d i c a l i s m , i s , in r e a l i t y , an ethics alien to a l l t h i s w o r l d l y social or p o l i t i c a l movements. As he stated on another occasion, w i t h i n the dimension of social action proper " t h e ethics of intention and the ethics of r e s p o n s i b i l i t y are not absolute opposites, but supplement each other: both united constitute the genuine human b e i n g . " T h a t ethics of intention t h a t is incompatible w i t h w h a t Weber once called the ethics of a genuine human being is a certain interpretation of Christian ethics or, more g e n e r a l l y expressed, a strictly o t h e r w o r l d l y ethics. W h a t Weber r e a l l y meant w h e n speaking of the insoluble conflict between the ethics of intention and the ethics of responsibility w a s , then, t h a t the conflict between t h i s w o r l d l y ethics and o t h e r w o r l d l y e t h i c s is insoluble by human reason. Weber w a s convinced t h a t , on the basis of a strictly t h i s w o r l d l y orientation, no objective norms are possible: there cannot be " a b s o l u t e l y v a l i d " and, at the same time, specific norms except on the basis of revelation. Yet he never proved t h a t the unassisted human m i n d is incapable of a r r i v i n g at objective norms or t h a t the conflict between different t h i s w o r l d l y e t h i c a l doctrines is insoluble by h u m a n reason. He m e r e l y proved t h a t o t h e r w o r l d l y e t h i c s , or rather a certain 29

29. For a more adequate discussion of the problem of "responsibility" and "intention" compare Thomas Aquinas Summa theologica i. 2. qu. 20, a. 5; Burke, Present Discontents (The Works of Edmund Burke ["Bonn's Standard L i b r a r y " ] , I, 375-77); Lord Charnwood, Abraham Lincoln (Pocket Books ed.), pp. 136-37, 164-65; Churchill, Marlborough, VI, 599-600. Wissenschaftslehre, pp. 467, 475, 476, 546; Politische Schriften, pp. 441-44, 448-49, 62-63; Soziologie und Sozialpolitik, pp. 512-14; Religionssoziologie, II, 193-94.


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type of o t h e r w o r l d l y ethics, is incompatible w i t h those standards of h u m a n excellence or of human d i g n i t y w h i c h the unassisted h u m a n m i n d discerns. One could s a y , w i t h o u t in t h e least becoming g u i l t y of irreverence, that the conflict between t h i s - w o r l d l y and o t h e r w o r l d l y ethics need not be of serious concern to social science. As Weber himself pointed out, social science attempts to understand social life from a t h i s - w o r l d l y point of v i e w . Social science is h u m a n k n o w l e d g e of h u m a n life. Its l i g h t is the natural l i g h t . It tries to find r a t i o n a l or reasonable solutions to social problems. The insights and solutions at w h i c h it arrives m i g h t be questioned on the basis of superhuman k n o w l e d g e or of divine revelation. But, as Weber indicated, social science as such cannot t a k e notice of such questionings, because they are based on presuppositions w h i c h can never be evident to unassisted human reason. By accepting presuppositions of t h i s character, social science w o u l d transform itself into either J e w i s h or Christian or Islamic or Buddhistic or some other " d e n o m i n a t i o n a l " social science. In addition, if genuine i n s i g h t s of social science can be questioned on the basis of revelation, revelation is not merely above reason but a g a i n s t reason. Weber h a d no compunction in s a y i n g t h a t every belief in revelation is u l t i m a t e l y belief in the a b surd. W h e t h e r t h i s v i e w of Weber, w h o , after a l l , w a s not a t h e o l o g i c a l a u t h o r i t y , is compatible w i t h an i n t e l l i g e n t belief in revelation need not concern us h e r e . 30

Once it is granted t h a t social science, or t h i s - w o r l d l y understanding of human life, is e v i d e n t l y l e g i t i m a t e , the difficulty raised by Weber appears to be irrelevant. But he refused to grant t h a t premise. He contended t h a t science or p h i l o s o p h y rests, in the last a n a l y s i s , not on evident premises t h a t are at the disposal of man as man but on faith. Granting t h a t o n l y science or p h i l o s o p h y can l e a d to the truth w h i c h man can 30. Wissenschaftslehre, pp. 33, n. 2, 39, 154, 379, 466, 469, 471, 540, 542, 545-47, 550-54; Politische Schrijten, pp. 62-63; Religionssoziologie, I, 566.

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k n o w , he raised the question of w h e t h e r the search for k n o w able truth is good, and he decided t h a t t h i s question can no longer be answered by science or p h i l o s o p h y . Science or p h i losophy is unable to g i v e a clear or c e r t a i n account of its o w n basis. The goodness of science or p h i l o s o p h y w a s no problem as long as one could t h i n k t h a t it is " t h e w a y to true b e i n g ' ' or to " t r u e n a t u r e " or to "true h a p p i n e s s . " But these expectations h a v e proved to be i l l u s o r y . Henceforth, science or p h i losophy can h a v e no other g o a l t h a n to ascertain t h a t v e r y l i m i t e d truth w h i c h is accessible to m a n . Y e t , in spite of t h i s amazing change in the character of science or p h i l o s o p h y , the quest for truth continues to be regarded as v a l u a b l e in itself, and not merely w i t h a v i e w to its p r a c t i c a l r e s u l t s — w h i c h , in their turn, are of questionable v a l u e : to increase m a n ' s p o w e r means to increase h i s power for e v i l as w e l l as for good. By regarding the quest for truth as v a l u a b l e in itself, one a d m i t s t h a t one is m a k i n g a preference w h i c h no longer h a s a good or sufficient reason. One recognizes t h e r e w i t h the principle t h a t preferences do not need good or sufficient reasons. Accordi n g l y , those w h o regard the quest for truth as v a l u a b l e in itself m a y regard such a c t i v i t i e s as the understanding of the genesis of a doctrine, or the e d i t i n g of a t e x t — n a y , the conjectural correction of a n y corrupt reading in a n y manuscript— as ends in t h e m s e l v e s : the quest for truth h a s the same d i g n i t y as stamp collecting. Every pursuit, every w h i m , becomes as defensible or as l e g i t i m a t e as a n y other. But Weber did not a l w a y s go so far. He also said t h a t the g o a l of science is c l a r i t y , i . e . , c l a r i t y about the great issues, and t h i s means u l t i m a t e l y c l a r i t y not indeed about the w h o l e but about the situation of m a n as m a n . Science or p h i l o s o p h y is then the w a y t o w a r d freedom from delusion; it is the foundation of a free life, of a life t h a t refuses to bring the sacrifice of the intellect and dares to l o o k r e a l i t y in i t s stern face. It is concerned w i t h the k n o w able t r u t h , w h i c h is v a l i d regardless of w h e t h e r we l i k e it or


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not. Weber w e n t up to t h i s point. But he refused to s a y t h a t science or p h i l o s o p h y is concerned w i t h the truth w h i c h is v a l i d for a l l men regardless of w h e t h e r t h e y desire to k n o w it or not. W h a t stopped him? W h y did he deny to the k n o w a b l e truth its inescapable p o w e r ? He w a s inclined to believe t h a t twentieth-century m a n h a s eaten of the fruit of the tree of k n o w l e d g e , or can be free from the delusions w h i c h blinded a l l earlier men: we see the s i t u a tion of m a n w i t h o u t delusions; we are disenchanted. But under the influence of historicism, he became doubtful w h e t h e r one can speak of the situation of man as man or, if one can, w h e t h e r t h i s situation is not seen differently in different a g e s in such a manner t h a t , in principle, the v i e w of a n y a g e is as l e g i t i m a t e or as i l l e g i t i m a t e as t h a t of a n y other. He w o n dered, therefore, w h e t h e r w h a t appeared to be the situation of man as m a n w a s more than the situation of present-day m a n , or " t h e inescapable datum of our historical s i t u a t i o n . " Hence w h a t o r i g i n a l l y appeared as freedom from delusions presented itself e v e n t u a l l y as h a r d l y more than the questionable premise of our a g e or as an a t t i t u d e t h a t w i l l be superseded, in due t i m e , by an a t t i t u d e t h a t w i l l be in conformity w i t h the next; epoch. The t h o u g h t of the present a g e is characterized by d i s enchantment or unqualified " t h i s - w o r l d l i n e s s , " or i r r e l i g i o n . W h a t c l a i m s to be freedom from delusions is as much and as l i t t l e delusion as the faiths w h i c h prevailed in the past a n d w h i c h m a y prevail in the future. We are i r r e l i g i o u s because fate forces us to be i r r e l i g i o u s and for no other reason. Weber refused to bring the sacrifice of the i n t e l l e c t ; he did not w a i t for a r e l i g i o u s r e v i v a l or for prophets or s a v i o r s ; and he w a s not at a l l certain w h e t h e r a r e l i g i o u s r e v i v a l w o u l d follow t h e present a g e . But he w a s certain t h a t a l l devotion to causes or i d e a l s h a s i t s roots in r e l i g i o u s faith and, therefore, t h a t t h e 31

31. Wissenschaftslehre, pp. 60-61, 184, 2 1 3 , 251, 469, 5 3 1 , 540, 547, 549; Politische Schriften, pp. 128, 2 1 3 ; Religionssoziologie, I, 569-70.

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decline of r e l i g i o u s faith w i l l u l t i m a t e l y l e a d to the extinction of a l l causes or i d e a l s . He tended to see before h i m the alternative of either complete spiritual emptiness or r e l i g i o u s r e v i v a l . He despaired of the modern t h i s - w o r l d l y i r r e l i g i o u s experiment, and y e t he remained attached to it because he w a s fated to believe in science as he understood i t . The result of t h i s conflict, w h i c h he could not resolve, w a s h i s belief t h a t the conflict between v a l u e s cannot be resolved by human r e a s o n . Yet the crisis of modern life and of modern science does not necessarily m a k e doubtful the idea of science. We must therefore try to state in more precise terms w h a t Weber h a d in mind w h e n he said t h a t science seemed to be unable to g i v e a clear or certain account of itself. M a n cannot l i v e w i t h o u t l i g h t , g u i d a n c e , k n o w l e d g e ; o n l y through k n o w l e d g e of the good can he find the good t h a t he needs. The fundamental question, therefore, is w h e t h e r men can acquire t h a t k n o w l e d g e of the good w i t h o u t w h i c h t h e y cannot guide their l i v e s i n d i v i d u a l l y or c o l l e c t i v e l y by the unaided efforts of their natural p o w e r s , or w h e t h e r they are dependent for t h a t k n o w l e d g e on Divine R e v e l a t i o n . No a l ternative is more fundamental than t h i s : human guidance or divine guidance. The first p o s s i b i l i t y is characteristic of philosophy or science in the o r i g i n a l sense of the term, the second is presented in the Bible . The d i l e m m a cannot be evaded by a n y harmonization or synthesis. For both p h i l o s o p h y and the Bible proclaim something as the one t h i n g needful, as the o n l y thing t h a t u l t i m a t e l y counts, and the one thing needful proclaimed by the Bible is the opposite of t h a t proclaimed by p h i l o s o p h y : a life of obedient love versus a life of free i n s i g h t . In every attempt at harmonization, in e v e r y synthesis h o w e v e r impressive, one of the t w o opposed elements is sacrificed, more or less subtly but in a n y event surely, to the other: p h i l o s o p h y , 32

32.

Wissenschaftslehre, pp. 546-47, 551-55; Religionssoziologie, I, 204, 523.


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w h i c h means to be the queen, must be made the h a n d m a i d of revelation or vice versa. If we t a k e a bird's-eye v i e w of the secular struggle between p h i l o s o p h y and t h e o l o g y , we can h a r d l y avoid the impression t h a t neither of the t w o antagonists h a s ever succeeded in r e a l l y refuting the other. A l l arguments in favor of revelation seem to be v a l i d o n l y if belief in revelation is presupposed; and a l l arguments a g a i n s t revelation seem to be v a l i d o n l y if unbelief is presupposed. T h i s state of t h i n g s w o u l d appear to be but n a t u r a l . R e v e l a t i o n is a l w a y s so uncertain to unassisted reason t h a t it can never compel the assent of unassisted reason, and man is so b u i l t t h a t he can find h i s satisfaction, h i s b l i s s , in free i n v e s t i g a t i o n , in a r t i c u l a t i n g the riddle of being. But, on the other h a n d , he yearns so much for a solution of t h a t riddle and h u m a n k n o w l e d g e is a l w a y s so l i m i t e d t h a t the need for divine i l l u m i n a t i o n cannot be denied and the p o s s i b i l i t y of revelation cannot be refuted. N o w it is t h i s state of t h i n g s t h a t seems to decide irrevocably a g a i n s t p h i l o s o p h y and in favor of revelation. Philosophy h a s to grant t h a t revelation is possible. But to g r a n t t h a t revelation is possible means to grant t h a t p h i l o s o p h y is perhaps not the one t h i n g needful, t h a t p h i l o s o p h y is perhaps something infinitely unimportant. To g r a n t t h a t revelation is possible means to grant t h a t the p h i l o s o p h i c life is not n e c e s s a r i l y , not e v i d e n t l y , the r i g h t life. P h i l o s o p h y , the life devoted to the quest for evident k n o w l e d g e a v a i l a b l e to man as m a n , w o u l d itself rest on an unevident, a r b i t r a r y , or blind decision. T h i s w o u l d merely confirm the thesis of f a i t h , t h a t there is no p o s s i b i l i t y of consistency, of a consistent a n d t h o r o u g h l y sincere life, w i t h o u t belief in revelation. The mere fact t h a t p h i l o s o p h y and revelation cannot refute each other w o u l d constitute the refutation of p h i l o s o p h y by revelation. It w a s the conflict between revelation and p h i l o s o p h y or science in the full sense of the term and the i m p l i c a t i o n s of t h a t conflict t h a t led Weber to assert t h a t the idea of science or

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p h i l o s o p h y suffers from a fatal w e a k n e s s . He tried to remain faithful to the cause of autonomous i n s i g h t , but he despaired w h e n he felt t h a t the sacrifice of the intellect, w h i c h is abhorred by science or p h i l o s o p h y , is at the bottom of science or philosophy. But let us hasten back from these awful depths to a superficiality w h i c h , w h i l e not e x a c t l y g a y , promises at least a quiet sleep. H a v i n g come up to the surface a g a i n , we are w e l comed by about six hundred l a r g e p a g e s covered w i t h the smallest possible number of sentences, as w e l l as w i t h the largest possible number of footnotes, and devoted to the metho d o l o g y of the social sciences. Yet we notice v e r y soon t h a t we h a v e not escaped trouble. For W e b e r ' s m e t h o d o l o g y is something different from w h a t m e t h o d o l o g y u s u a l l y i s . A l l i n t e l l i g e n t students of Weber's m e t h o d o l o g y have felt t h a t it is philosophic. It is possible to a r t i c u l a t e t h a t feeling. M e t h o d o l o g y , as reflection on the correct procedure of science, is necessarily reflection on the l i m i t a t i o n s of science. If science is indeed the h i g h e s t form of human k n o w l e d g e , it is reflection on the l i m i t a t i o n s of human k n o w l e d g e . And if it is k n o w l edge t h a t constitutes the specific character of man among a l l e a r t h l y beings, methodology is reflection on the l i m i t a t i o n s of h u m a n i t y or on the situation of man as man. W eber's methodo l o g y comes v e r y close to meeting t h i s demand. To remain s o m e w h a t nearer to w h a t he himself t h o u g h t of his m e t h o d o l o g y , we shall s a y t h a t h i s notion of science, both natural and social, is based on a specific v i e w of r e a l i t y . For, according to h i m , scientific understanding consists in a pec u l i a r transformation of r e a l i t y . It is therefore impossible to clarify the meaning of science w i t h o u t a previous a n a l y s i s of r e a l i t y as it is in itself, i . e . , prior to i t s transformation by science. Weber did not s a y much about t h i s subject. He w a s less concerned w i t h the character of r e a l i t y than w i t h the different w a y s in w h i c h r e a l i t y is transformed by the different types of


77

science. For h i s p r i m a r y concern w a s w i t h preserving the i n t e g r i t y of the h i s t o r i c a l or cultural sciences a g a i n s t t w o apparent d a n g e r s : a g a i n s t the attempt to shape these sciences on the pattern of the n a t u r a l sciences and a g a i n s t the attempt to interpret the d u a l i s m of n a t u r a l and historical-cultural sciences in terms of a m e t a p h y s i c a l dualism ( " b o d y - m i n d " or " n e c e s s i t y - f r e e d o m " ) . But h i s methodological theses remain unintell i g i b l e , or at a n y rate irrelevant, if one does not translate them into theses regarding the character of r e a l i t y . When he demanded, for e x a m p l e , t h a t interpretive understanding be subservient to c a u s a l e x p l a n a t i o n , he w a s guided by the observation t h a t the i n t e l l i g i b l e is frequently overpowered by w h a t is no longer i n t e l l i g i b l e or t h a t the l o w e r is m o s t l y stronger t h a n the h i g h e r . In addition, h i s preoccupations left h i m time to indicate h i s v i e w of w h a t r e a l i t y is prior to its transformation by science. According to h i m , r e a l i t y is an infinite and meaningless sequence, or a chaos, of unique and infinitely d i v i s i b l e events, w h i c h i n themselves are m e a n i n g l e s s : a l l meaning, a l l a r t i c u l a t i o n , o r i g i n a t e s in the a c t i v i t y of the k n o w i n g or e v a l u a t i n g subject. V e r y few people t o d a y w i l l be satisfied w i t h t h i s v i e w o f r e a l i t y , w h i c h Weber h a d t a k e n over from neo-Kantianism and w h i c h he modified merely by adding one or t w o emotional touches. It is sufficient to remark t h a t he himself w a s unable to adhere consistently to t h a t v i e w . He cert a i n l y could not deny t h a t there is an a r t i c u l a t i o n of r e a l i t y t h a t precedes a l l scientific a r t i c u l a t i o n : t h a t a r t i c u l a t i o n , t h a t w e a l t h of m e a n i n g , w h i c h we have in mind w h e n s p e a k i n g of the w o r l d of common experience or of the n a t u r a l understandi n g of the w o r l d . But he did not even attempt a coherent a n a l y s i s of the social w o r l d as it is k n o w n to "common s e n s e , ' ' or of social r e a l i t y as it is k n o w n in social life or in a c t i o n . The place of such an a n a l y s i s is occupied in h i s w o r k by defini3 3

33. Wissenschaftslehre, pp. 5, 35, 50-51, 61, 67, 71, 126, 127 n., 132-34, 161-62,166, 171, 173, 175, 177-78, 180, 208, 389, 503.

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tions of ideal t y p e s , of artificial constructs w h i c h are not even meant to correspond to the intrinsic a r t i c u l a t i o n of social reali t y and w h i c h , in addition, are meant to be of a s t r i c t l y ephemeral character. Only a comprehensive a n a l y s i s of social r e a l i t y as we k n o w it in actual life, and as men a l w a y s h a v e k n o w n it since there have been c i v i l societies, w o u l d permit an adequate discussion of the p o s s i b i l i t y of an e v a l u a t i n g social science. Such an a n a l y s i s w o u l d m a k e i n t e l l i g i b l e the fundamental a l t e r n a t i v e s w h i c h e s s e n t i a l l y belong to social life and w o u l d t h e r e w i t h supply a basis for responsible judgment on w h e t h e r the conflict between these a l t e r n a t i v e s i s , in principle, susceptible of a solution. In the spirit of a tradition of three centuries, Weber w o u l d have rejected the suggestion t h a t social science must be based on an a n a l y s i s of social r e a l i t y as it is experienced in social life or k n o w n to "common sense." According to t h a t tradition, "common s e n s e " is a h y b r i d , begotten by the absolutely subjective w o r l d of the i n d i v i d u a l ' s sensations and the t r u l y objective w o r l d progressively discovered by science. This v i e w stems from the seventeenth century, w h e n modern t h o u g h t emerged by virtue of a break w i t h classical p h i l o s o p h y . But the originators of modern t h o u g h t s t i l l agreed w i t h the c l a s sics in so far as t h e y conceived of p h i l o s o p h y or science as the perfection of m a n ' s natural understanding of the n a t u r a l w o r l d . T h e y differed from the classics in so far as they opposed the n e w p h i l o s o p h y or science, as the t r u l y n a t u r a l understanding of the w o r l d , to the perverted understanding of the w o r l d had by classical and medieval p h i l o s o p h y or science, or by " t h e s c h o o l . " The victory of the n e w p h i l o s o p h y or science w a s decided by the victory of its decisive part, n a m e l y , the n e w p h y s i c s . T h a t victory led e v e n t u a l l y to the result t h a t 34

34. Compare Jacob Klein, "Die griechische Logistik und die Entstehung der modernen Algebra," Quellen und Studien zur Geschichte der Mathematik, Astronomie und Physik (1936), III, 125.


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the n e w p h y s i c s and the new n a t u r a l science in general became independent of the rump of p h i l o s o p h y w h i c h from then on came to be called " p h i l o s o p h y " in contradistinction to " s c i e n c e " ; and, in fact, " s c i e n c e " became the a u t h o r i t y for " p h i l o s o p h y . " " S c i e n c e , " we m a y s a y , is the successful part of modern p h i l o s o p h y or science, w h e r e a s " p h i l o s o p h y " is i t s less successful part. Thus not modern philosophy but modern n a t u r a l science came to be regarded as the perfection of m a n ' s n a t u r a l understanding of the n a t u r a l w o r l d . But in the nineteenth century it became more and more apparent t h a t a drastic distinction must be made between w h a t w a s then called t h e " s c i e n t i f i c ' ' understanding ( o r " t h e w o r l d of s c i e n c e " ) and the " n a t u r a l " understanding ( o r " t h e w o r l d i n w h i c h w e l i v e " ) . It became apparent t h a t the scientific understanding of the w o r l d emerges by w a y of a r a d i c a l modification, as distinguished from a perfection, of the n a t u r a l understanding. Since the n a t u r a l understanding is the presupposition of the scientific understanding, the a n a l y s i s of science and of the w o r l d of science presupposes the a n a l y s i s of the n a t u r a l understanding, the n a t u r a l w o r l d , or the w o r l d of common sense. The n a t u r a l w o r l d , the w o r l d in w h i c h we l i v e and act, is not the object or the product of a theoretical a t t i t u d e ; it is a w o r l d not of mere objects at w h i c h we detachedly l o o k but of " t h i n g s " or "aff a i r s " w h i c h w e h a n d l e . Yet a s long a s w e identify the n a t u r a l o r prescientific w o r l d w i t h the w o r l d i n w h i c h w e l i v e , w e are d e a l i n g w i t h a n abstraction. The w o r l d i n w h i c h w e l i v e i s a l r e a d y a product of science, or at a n y rate it is profoundly affected by the existence of science. To s a y nothing of technolo g y , the w o r l d in w h i c h we l i v e is free from ghosts, w i t c h e s , and so on, w i t h w h i c h , but for the existence of science, it w o u l d abound. To grasp the n a t u r a l w o r l d as a w o r l d t h a t is r a d i c a l l y prescientific or prephilosophic, one h a s to go back behind the first emergence of science or p h i l o s o p h y . It is not

80


necessary for t h i s purpose to e n g a g e in extensive and necess a r i l y h y p o t h e t i c a l a n t h r o p o l o g i c a l studies. The information t h a t classical p h i l o s o p h y supplies about i t s origins suffices, e s p e c i a l l y if t h a t information is supplemented by consideration of the most elementary premises of the B i b l e , for reconstructing the essential character of " t h e n a t u r a l w o r l d . " By using t h a t information, so supplemented, one w o u l d be enabled to understand the o r i g i n of the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t .

III

THE

ORIGIN OF THE IDEA OF N A T U R A L RIGHT

T

O UNDERSTAND the problem of n a t u r a l r i g h t , one must start, not from the " s c i e n t i f i c " understanding of p o l i t i c a l t h i n g s but from their " n a t u r a l " understanding, i . e . , from the w a y i n w h i c h t h e y present themselves i n p o l i t i c a l life, i n a c tion, w h e n t h e y are our business, w h e n we have to m a k e decisions. T h i s does not mean t h a t p o l i t i c a l life necessarily k n o w s of n a t u r a l r i g h t . Natural r i g h t h a d to be discovered, and there w a s p o l i t i c a l life prior to t h a t discovery. It means m e r e l y t h a t p o l i t i c a l life in a l l its forms necessarily points t o w a r d n a t u r a l r i g h t as an inevitable problem. A w a r e n e s s of t h i s problem is not older t h a n p o l i t i c a l science but coeval w i t h i t . Hence a p o l i t i c a l life t h a t does not k n o w of the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t is necessarily u n a w a r e of the p o s s i b i l i t y of p o l i t i c a l science a n d , indeed, of the p o s s i b i l i t y of science as such, just as a p o l i t i c a l life t h a t is a w a r e of the p o s s i b i l i t y of science necessarily k n o w s n a t u r a l r i g h t as a problem.

The idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t must be u n k n o w n as long as the idea of nature is u n k n o w n . The discovery of nature is the w o r k of p h i l o s o p h y . Where there is no p h i l o s o p h y , there is no k n o w l e d g e of n a t u r a l r i g h t as such. The Old Testament, w h o s e basic premise m a y be said to be the i m p l i c i t rejection of p h i l o s o p h y , does not k n o w " n a t u r e " : the Hebrew term for " n a t u r e " is u n k n o w n to the Hebrew B i b l e . It goes w i t h o u t s a y i n g t h a t " h e a v e n and e a r t h , " for e x a m p l e , is not the same t h i n g as " n a t u r e . " There i s , then, no k n o w l e d g e of n a t u r a l r i g h t as such in t h e Old Testament. The discovery of nature neces81


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s a r i l y precedes the discovery of n a t u r a l r i g h t . Philosophy is older than p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . Philosophy is the quest for the " p r i n c i p l e s " of a l l t h i n g s , and t h i s means p r i m a r i l y the quest for the " b e g i n n i n g s " of a l l t h i n g s or for " t h e first t h i n g s . " In t h i s , p h i l o s o p h y is at one w i t h m y t h . But the philosophos ( " l o v e r of w i s d o m " ) is not identical w i t h the philomythos ( " l o v e r of m y t h " ) . Aristotle c a l l s the first philosophers s i m p l y " m e n w h o discoursed on n a t u r e " and distinguishes them from t h e men w h o preceded them and " w h o discoursed on g o d s . " Philosophy as distinguished from m y t h came into being w h e n nature w a s discovered, or the first philosopher w a s the first man w h o discovered nature. The w h o l e h i s t o r y of p h i l o s o p h y is nothing but the record of the ever repeated attempts to grasp fully w h a t w a s implied in t h a t crucial discovery w h i c h w a s made by some Greek t w e n t y - s i x hundred y e a r s a g o or before. To understand the meaning of t h a t discovery in h o w e v e r provisional a manner, one must return from the idea of nature to its prephilosophic equivalent. 1

The purport of the discovery of nature cannot be grasped if one understands by nature " t h e t o t a l i t y of p h e n o m e n a . " For the discovery of nature consists precisely in the splitting-up of t h a t t o t a l i t y into phenomena w h i c h are n a t u r a l and phenomena w h i c h are not n a t u r a l : " n a t u r e " is a term of distinction. Prior to the discovery of nature, the characteristic behavior of a n y t h i n g or a n y class of t h i n g s w a s conceived of as its custom or its w a y . T h a t is to s a y , no fundamental distinction w a s made between customs or w a y s w h i c h are a l w a y s and everyw h e r e the same and customs or w a y s w h i c h differ from tribe to tribe. B a r k i n g and w a g g i n g the t a i l is the w a y of dogs, menstruation is the w a y of w o m e n , the crazy t h i n g s done by madmen are the w a y of madmen, just as not eating pork is the w a y 1. Aristotle Metaphysics 981 27-29, 982 18 (cf. Nicomachean Ethics 1117 33-35), 983 7 ff., 1071 26-27; Plato Laws 891 , 892 2-7, 896 5- 3. b

b

b

b

c

c

b

a

b

ORIGIN OF THE IDEA OF NATURAL RIGHT

83

of J e w s and not d r i n k i n g w i n e is the w a y of M o s l e m s . " C u s t o m " o r " w a y " i s the prephilosophic equivalent o f " n a t u r e . " W h i l e e v e r y t h i n g or every class of t h i n g s h a s its custom or w a y , there is a p a r t i c u l a r custom or w a y w h i c h is of paramount importance: " o u r " w a y , the w a y o f " u s " l i v i n g " h e r e , " the w a y of life of the independent group to w h i c h a man belongs. W e m a y c a l l i t the " p a r a m o u n t " custom o r w a y . Not a l l members of the group remain a l w a y s in t h a t w a y , but t h e y m o s t l y return to it if t h e y are properly reminded of i t : the paramount w a y is the r i g h t p a t h . Its rightness is g u a r a nteed by its oldness: "There is a sort of presumption a g a i n s t n o v e l t y , d r a w n out of a deep consideration of human nature and human affairs; and the m a x i m of jurisprudence is w e l l l a i d d o w n , Vetustas pro lege semper habetur." But not e v e r y t h i n g old e v e r y w h e r e i s r i g h t . " O u r " w a y i s the r i g h t w a y because i t i s both old and " o u r o w n " or because it is both "home-bred and p r e s c r i p t i v e . " J u s t a s " o l d and one's o w n " o r i g i n a l l y w a s identical w i t h r i g h t o r good, s o " n e w and s t r a n g e " o r i g i n a l l y stood for bad. The notion connecting " o l d " and " o n e ' s o w n " is " a n c e s t r a l . " Prephilosophic life is characterized by the primeval identification of the good w i t h the ancestral. Therefore, the r i g h t w a y necessarily implies t h o u g h t s about the ancestors and hence about the first t h i n g s s i m p l y . 2

3

For one cannot reasonably identify the good w i t h the ancestral if one does not assume t h a t the ancestors were a b s o l u t e l y superior to " u s , " and this means t h a t t h e y w e r e superior to 2. Burke, Letters on a Regicide Peace, i and iv; cf. Herodotus iii. 38 and i. 8. 3. "The right w a y " would seem to be the link between " w a y " (or "custom") in general and "the first things," i.e., between the roots of the two most important meanings of "nature": "nature" as essential character of a thing or a group of things and "nature" as "the first things." For the second meaning see Plato's Laws 891 l-4 and 892 2-7. For the first meaning, consider Aristotle's as well as the Stoic's reference to "way " in their definitions of nature (Aristotle Physics 193 13-19,194 27-30, and 199"910; Cicero De natura deorum ii. 57 and 81). When "nature" is denied, "custom" is restored to its original place. Compare Maimonides Guide of the Perplexed i. 71 and 73; and Pascal, Pensees, ed. Brunschvicg, Frags. 222, 233, 92. c

c

b

a

84


a l l o r d i n a r y m o r t a l s ; one is driven to believe t h a t the ancestors, or those w h o established the ancestral w a y , were gods or sons of gods or at l e a s t " d w e l l i n g n e a r the g o d s . " The identification of the good w i t h the ancestral l e a d s to the v i e w t h a t the r i g h t w a y w a s established by gods or sons of gods or pupils of g o d s : the r i g h t w a y must be a d i v i n e l a w . Seeing t h a t the ancestors are ancestors of a distinct g r o u p , one is led to believe t h a t there is a v a r i e t y of divine l a w s or codes, each of w h i c h is the w o r k of a divine or semidivine b e i n g . O r i g i n a l l y , the questions concerning the first t h i n g s and the r i g h t w a y are answered before t h e y are raised. T h e y are answered by a u t h o r i t y . For a u t h o r i t y as the r i g h t of h u m a n beings to be obeyed is e s s e n t i a l l y d e r i v a t i v e from l a w , and l a w is o r i g i n a l l y n o t h i n g other t h a n the w a y of life of the comm u n i t y . The f i r s t t h i n g s and the r i g h t w a y cannot become questionable or the object of a quest, or p h i l o s o p h y cannot emerge, or nature cannot be discovered, if a u t h o r i t y as such is not doubted or as long as at least a n y general statement of a n y being w h a t s o e v e r is accepted on trust. The emergence of the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t presupposes, therefore, the doubt of au thority. Plato h a s indicated by the conversational s e t t i n g s of h i s Republic and h i s Laws rather t h a n by e x p l i c i t statements h o w indispensable doubt of a u t h o r i t y or freedom from a u t h o r i t y is for the discovery of n a t u r a l r i g h t . In the Republic the discussion of n a t u r a l r i g h t starts long after the aged Cephalus, the father, the h e a d of the house, h a s left to t a k e care of the sacred offerings to the g o d s : the absence of C e p h a l u s , or of w h a t he stands for, is indispensable for the quest for n a t u r a l r i g h t . Or, if y o u w i s h , men l i k e Cephalus do not need to k n o w of n a t u r a l r i g h t . Besides, the discussion m a k e s the participants w h o l l y 4

6

4. Plato Laws 624 l-6, 634 l-2, 6611, 7 - 7 ; Minos 318 l-3; Cicero Laws i i . 27; cf. Fustel de Coulanges, La Citi antique, Part III, chap. xi. 5. Cf. Plato Charmides 161 3-8 and Phaedrus 275 l-3 with Apology of Socrates 21 6- 2; e

c

c

d

e

c

c

cf. also Xenophon Apology of Socrates 14-15 with Cyropaedia vii. 2. 15-17.

b

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oblivious of a torch race in honor of a goddess w h i c h t h e y were supposed to w a t c h — t h e quest for n a t u r a l r i g h t replaces t h a t torch race. The discussion recorded in the Laws t a k e s place w h i l e the p a r t i c i p a n t s , t r e a d i n g in the footsteps of M i n o s , w h o , being the son and pupil of Zeus, had brought the Cretans t h e i r divine l a w s , are w a l k i n g from a Cretan c i t y to the cave of Zeus. W h e r e a s their conversation is recorded in i t s entirety, n o t h i n g is said of w h e t h e r t h e y arrived at their i n i t i a l g o a l . The end of the Laws is devoted to the central theme of the Republic: n a t u r a l r i g h t , or p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y and the c u l m i n a t i o n of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y , replace the cave of Zeus. If we t a k e Socrates as the representative of the quest for natural r i g h t , w e m a y i l l u s t r a t e the r e l a t i o n o f t h a t quest t o a u t h o r i t y as f o l l o w s : in a c o m m u n i t y governed by divine l a w s , it is s t r i c t l y forbidden to subject these l a w s to genuine discussion, i . e . , to c r i t i c a l e x a m i n a t i o n , in the presence of y o u n g men; Socrates, however, discusses n a t u r a l r i g h t — a subject w h o s e discovery presupposes doubt of the ancestral or divine code—not o n l y in the presence of y o u n g men but in conversation w i t h t h e m . Some time before P l a t o , Herodotus h a d indicated t h i s state of t h i n g s by the place of the only debate w h i c h he recorded concerning the principles of p o l i t i c s : he t e l l s us t h a t t h a t free discussion took place in truth-loving Persia after the s l a u g h t e r of the M a g i . T h i s is not to deny t h a t , once the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t h a s emerged and become a m a t t e r of course, it can e a s i l y be adjusted to the belief in the existence of d i v i n e l y revealed l a w . We m e r e l y contend t h a t the predominance of t h a t belief prevents the emergence of the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t or m a k e s the quest for n a t u r a l r i g h t infinitely u n i m p o r t a n t : if m a n k n o w s by divine revelation w h a t the r i g h t p a t h i s , he does not h a v e to discover t h a t p a t h by h i s unassisted efforts. 6

6. Plato Laws 634 7-635 5; cf. Apology of Socrates 23 2 ff. with Republic 538 5- 6; Herodotus iii. 76 (cf. i. 132). d

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The o r i g i n a l form of the doubt of a u t h o r i t y and therefore the direction w h i c h p h i l o s o p h y o r i g i n a l l y took or the perspective in w h i c h nature w a s discovered were determined by the o r i g i n a l character of a u t h o r i t y . The assumption that there is a v a r i e t y of divine codes leads to difficulties, since the v a r i ous codes contradict one another. One code a b s o l u t e l y praises actions w h i c h another code a b s o l u t e l y condemns. One code demands the sacrifice of one's first-born son, w h e r e a s another code forbids a l l human sacrifices as an abomination. The b u r i a l rites of one tribe provoke the horror of another. But w h a t is decisive is the fact t h a t the v a r i o u s codes contradict one another i n w h a t t h e y suggest regarding the f i r s t t h i n g s . The v i e w t h a t the gods were born of the e a r t h cannot be reconciled w i t h the v i e w t h a t the e a r t h w a s made by the gods. Thus the question arises as to w h i c h code is the r i g h t code and w h i c h a c count of the first t h i n g s is the true account. The r i g h t w a y is n o w no longer guaranteed by a u t h o r i t y ; it becomes a question or the object of a quest. The p r i m e v a l identification of the good w i t h the ancestral is replaced by the fundamental d i s tinction between the good and the ancestral; the quest for the r i g h t w a y or for the first t h i n g s is t h e quest for the good as distinguished from the a n c e s t r a l . It w i l l prove to be the quest for w h a t is good by nature as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from w h a t is good merely by convention. 7

The quest for the first t h i n g s is g u i d e d by t w o fundamental distinctions w h i c h antedate the distinction between the good and the ancestral. M e n must a l w a y s h a v e distinguished ( e . g . , in j u d i c i a l m a t t e r s ) between h e a r s a y and seeing w i t h one's o w n eyes and h a v e preferred w h a t one h a s seen to w h a t he h a s merely heard from others. But the use of t h i s distinction w a s o r i g i n a l l y l i m i t e d to p a r t i c u l a r or subordinate matters. As re gards the most w e i g h t y matters—the first t h i n g s and the r i g h t 7. Plato Republic 538 3-4 and 5 - 6 ; Statesman 296 8-9; Laws 702 5-8; Xenophon Cyropaedia ii. 2. 26; Aristotle Politics 116^-8, 1271 23-24. d

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w a y — t h e o n l y source of k n o w l e d g e w a s h e a r s a y . Confronted w i t h the contradiction between the m a n y sacred codes, someone—a traveler, a man w h o h a d seen the cities of m a n y men and recognized the diversity of their t h o u g h t s and customs— suggested t h a t one a p p l y the distinction between seeing w i t h one's o w n e y e s and h e a r s a y to a l l matters, and e s p e c i a l l y to the most w e i g h t y matters. J u d g m e n t on, or assent to, the d i v i n e or venerable character of a n y code or account is suspended u n t i l the facts upon w h i c h the c l a i m s are based h a v e been made manifest or demonstrated. T h e y must be made m a n i fest—manifest to a l l , in broad d a y l i g h t . Thus man becomes a l i v e to the crucial difference between w h a t h i s group considers unquestionable and w h a t he himself observes; it is t h u s t h a t the I is enabled to oppose itself to the We w i t h o u t a n y sense of g u i l t . But it is not the I as I t h a t acquires t h a t r i g h t . Dreams and visions h a d been of decisive importance for establ i s h i n g the c l a i m s of the divine code or of the sacred account of the first t h i n g s . By virtue of the universal application of the distinction between h e a r s a y and seeing w i t h one's o w n e y e s , a distinction is n o w made between the one true and common w o r l d perceived in w a k i n g and the m a n y untrue and p r i v a t e w o r l d s of dreams and visions. Thus it appears t h a t neither t h e We of a n y p a r t i c u l a r group nor a unique I, but man as man, is the measure of truth and untruth, of the being or nonbeing of a l l t h i n g s . F i n a l l y , man thus learns to distinguish between the names of t h i n g s w h i c h he k n o w s t h r o u g h h e a r s a y and w h i c h differ from group to group and the t h i n g s themselves w h i c h he, a s w e l l a s any other human being, can see w i t h h i s o w n e y e s . He t h u s can start to replace the a r b i t r a r y distinctions of t h i n g s w h i c h differ from group to group by their " n a t u r a l " distinctions. The divine codes and the sacred accounts of the first t h i n g s w e r e said to be k n o w n not from h e a r s a y but by w a y of superh u m a n information. W h e n i t w a s demanded t h a t the distinc-

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tion between h e a r s a y and seeing w i t h one's o w n eyes be applied t o the most w e i g h t y m a t t e r s , i t w a s demanded t h a t the superhuman o r i g i n of a l l a l l e g e d superhuman information must be proved by e x a m i n a t i o n in the l i g h t , not, for e x a m p l e , of t r a d i t i o n a l criteria used for d i s t i n g u i s h i n g between true and false oracles, but of such criteria as u l t i m a t e l y derive in an evident manner from the rules w h i c h guide us in matters fully accessible to h u m a n k n o w l e d g e . The h i g h e s t k i n d of h u m a n k n o w l e d g e t h a t existed prior to the emergence of p h i l o s o p h y or science w a s the a r t s . The second prephilosophic distinction t h a t o r i g i n a l l y guided the quest for the first t h i n g s w a s the distinction between artificial or man-made t h i n g s and t h i n g s t h a t are not man-made. Nature w a s discovered w h e n man embarked on the quest for the first t h i n g s in the l i g h t of the fundamental distinctions between h e a r s a y and seeing w i t h one's o w n e y e s , on the one h a n d , and between t h i n g s made by man and t h i n g s not made by m a n , on the other. The first of these t w o distinctions m o t i v a t e d the demand t h a t the first t h i n g s must be brought to l i g h t by starting from w h a t a l l men can see n o w . But not a l l visible t h i n g s are an e q u a l l y adequate starting point for the discovery of the first t h i n g s . The m a n made t h i n g s l e a d to no other first t h i n g s than man, w h o cert a i n l y is not the first t h i n g s i m p l y . The artificial t h i n g s are seen to be inferior in every respect t o , or to be l a t e r t h a n , the t h i n g s t h a t are not made but found or discovered by m a n . The artificial t h i n g s are seen to o w e t h e i r being to h u m a n contrivance or to forethought. If one suspends one's judgment reg a r d i n g the truth of the sacred accounts of the first t h i n g s , one does not k n o w w h e t h e r the t h i n g s t h a t are not manmade o w e t h e i r being to forethought of a n y k i n d , i . e . , w h e t h e r the f i r s t t h i n g s o r i g i n a t e a l l other t h i n g s b y w a y o f forethought, or o t h e r w i s e . Thus one realizes the p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t the first t h i n g s o r i g i n a t e a l l o t h e r t h i n g s in a manner fundamentally different from a l l o r i g i n a t i o n by w a y of fore-


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t h o u g h t . The assertion that a l l v i s i b l e t h i n g s h a v e been produced by t h i n k i n g beings or t h a t there are a n y superhuman t h i n k i n g beings requires henceforth a demonstration: a demonstration t h a t starts from w h a t a l l can see n o w . In brief, then, it can be said t h a t the discovery of nature is identical w i t h the actualization of a h u m a n p o s s i b i l i t y w h i c h , at least according to its o w n interpretation, is trans-historical, trans-social, trans-moral, and t r a n s - r e l i g i o u s . 8

9

The philosophic quest for the first t h i n g s presupposes not merely t h a t there are first t h i n g s but t h a t the first t h i n g s are a l w a y s and t h a t t h i n g s w h i c h are a l w a y s o r are imperishable are more t r u l y beings than the t h i n g s w h i c h are not a l w a y s . These presuppositions follow from the fundamental premise t h a t no being emerges w i t h o u t a cause or t h a t it is impossible t h a t " a t f i r s t Chaos came t o b e , " i . e . , t h a t the f i r s t t h i n g s jumped into being out of nothing and t h r o u g h n o t h i n g . In other w o r d s , the manifest changes w o u l d be impossible if there did not exist something permanent or eternal, or the manifest contingent beings require the existence of something necessary and therefore eternal. Beings t h a t are a l w a y s are of h i g h e r d i g n i t y than beings t h a t are not a l w a y s , because o n l y the former can be the u l t i m a t e cause of the l a t t e r , of the being of the l a t t e r , or because w h a t is not a l w a y s finds its place w i t h i n the order constituted b y w h a t i s a l w a y s . Beings t h a t are not a l w a y s , are less t r u l y beings than beings t h a t are a l 8. Plato Laws 888 -889 , 8911-9, 892 2-7, 966 6-967 l. Aristotle Metaphysics 98^29-990.5 , 1000 9-20, 1042 3ff.; De caelo 298 13-24. Thomas Aquinas Summa theologica i. qu. 2, a. 3. c

c

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9. This view is still immediately intelligible, as can be seen, to a certain extent, from the following remark of A. N. Whitehead: "After Aristotle, ethical and religious interests, began to influence metaphysical conclusions. . . . It may be doubted whether any properly general metaphysics can ever, without the illicit introduction of other considerations, get much further than Aristotle" (Science and the Modern World [Mentor Books ed.], pp. 173-74). Cf. Thomas Aquinas Summa theologica i. 2. qu. 58, a. 4-5, and qu. 104, a. 1; ii. 2, qu. 19, a. 7, and qu. 45, a. 3 (on the relation of philosophy to morality and religion).

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w a y s , because to be perishable means to be in between being and not-being. One m a y express the same fundamental premise also by s a y i n g t h a t " o m n i p o t e n c e " means p o w e r l i m i t e d by k n o w l e d g e of " n a t u r e s , " t h a t is to s a y , of unchangeable and k n o w a b l e necessity; a l l freedom and indeterminacy presuppose a more fundamental necessity. Once nature is discovered, it becomes impossible to understand e q u a l l y as customs or w a y s t h e characteristic or normal behavior of n a t u r a l groups and of the different human t r i b e s ; the " c u s t o m s " of natural beings are recognized as t h e i r natures, and the " c u s t o m s " of the different human tribes are recognized as their conventions. The primeval notion of " c u s t o m " or " w a y " is split up into the notions of " n a t u r e , " on the one hand, and " c o n v e n t i o n , " on the other. The distinction between nature and convention, between physis and nomos, is therefore coeval w i t h the discovery of nature and hence w i t h philosophy. Nature w o u l d not have to be discovered if it were not hidden. Hence " n a t u r e " is necessarily understood in contradistinction to something else, n a m e l y , to that w h i c h hides nature in so far as it hides nature. There are scholars w h o refuse to t a k e " n a t u r e " as a term of distinction, because t h e y believe t h a t e v e r y t h i n g w h i c h i s , i s n a t u r a l . But t h e y t a c i t l y assume t h a t man k n o w s by nature t h a t there is such a t h i n g as nature or t h a t " n a t u r e " is as unproblematic or as obvious a s , s a y , " r e d . " Besides, t h e y are forced to distinguish between n a t u r a l or existent t h i n g s and i l l u s o r y t h i n g s or things w h i c h pretend to exist w i t h o u t e x i s t i n g ; but t h e y leave unarticulated the manner of being of the most important t h i n g s w h i c h pretend to exist w i t h o u t e x i s t i n g . The distinction between nature and 10

11

10. Consider Odyssey x. 303-6. 11. As regards the earliest records of the distinction between nature and convention, see Karl Reinhardt, Parmenides und die Geschichte der gjriechischen Philosophie (Bonn, 1916), pp. 82-88.


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convention implies that nature is e s s e n t i a l l y hidden by authori t a t i v e decisions. M a n cannot l i v e w i t h o u t h a v i n g t h o u g h t s about the first t h i n g s , and, it w a s presumed, he cannot l i v e w e l l w i t h o u t being united w i t h h i s fellows b y i d e n t i c a l t h o u g h t s about the first t h i n g s , i . e . , w i t h o u t being subject to a u t h o r i t a t i v e decisions concerning the first t h i n g s : it is the l a w t h a t c l a i m s t o m a k e manifest the f i r s t t h i n g s o r " w h a t i s . " The l a w , in i t s turn, appeared to be a rule t h a t derives i t s binding force from the agreement or the convention of the members of the g r o u p . The l a w or the convention h a s the tendency, or the function, to h i d e nature; it succeeds to such an extent t h a t nature i s , t o begin w i t h , experienced o r " g i v e n " o n l y a s " c u s t o m . " Hence the philosophic quest for the first t h i n g s is guided by t h a t understanding of " b e i n g " or " t o b e " according to w h i c h the most fundamental distinction of manners of. being is t h a t between " t o be in t r u t h " and " t o be by v i r t u e of l a w or convention"-—a distinction t h a t survived in a b a r e l y recognizable form in the scholastic distinction between ens reale and ens fictum. The emergence of p h i l o s o p h y r a d i c a l l y affects m a n ' s a t t i tude t o w a r d p o l i t i c a l t h i n g s i n general and t o w a r d l a w s i n p a r t i c u l a r , because it r a d i c a l l y affects h i s understanding of these t h i n g s . O r i g i n a l l y , the a u t h o r i t y par excellence or the root of a l l a u t h o r i t y w a s the ancestral. T h r o u g h the discovery of nature, the c l a i m of the ancestral is uprooted; p h i l o s o p h y appeals from the ancestral to the good, to t h a t w h i c h is good i n t r i n s i c a l l y , to t h a t w h i c h is good by nature. Yet p h i l o s o p h y uproots the c l a i m of the ancestral in such a manner as to preserve an essential element of i t . For, w h e n speaking of nature, the first philosophers meant the first t h i n g s , i . e . , the oldest t h i n g s ; p h i l o s o p h y appeals from the ancestral to something n

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12. Plato Minos 3 1 5 l - 2 and 319 3; Laws 889 3-5, 890 6-7, 891-1-2, 9 0 4 9 - l ; Timacus 4 0 - 4 1 ; cf. also Parmenides, Frag. 6 [Diels]; see P. Bayle, Pinsies diversis, §49. d

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older t h a n the ancestral. Nature is t h e ancestor of a l l ancestors or the mother of a l l mothers. N a t u r e is older than a n y t r a d i t i o n ; hence it is more venerable t h a n a n y t r a d i t i o n . The v i e w t h a t n a t u r a l t h i n g s have a h i g h e r d i g n i t y t h a n t h i n g s produced by men is based not on a n y surreptitious or unconscious borrowings from m y t h , or on residues of m y t h , but on the d i s covery of nature itself. A r t presupposes nature, w h e r e a s nature does not presuppose art. M a n ' s " c r e a t i v e " a b i l i t i e s , w h i c h are more admirable t h a n a n y of h i s products, are not themselves produced by m a n : the genius of Shakespeare w a s not the w o r k of Shakespeare. Nature supplies not o n l y the m a t e r i a l s but also the models for a l l a r t s ; " t h e greatest and fairest t h i n g s " are the w o r k of nature as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from art. By uprooting the a u t h o r i t y of the ancestral, p h i l o s o p h y recognizes t h a t nature is the a u t h o r i t y . 13

It w o u l d be less m i s l e a d i n g , h o w e v e r , to s a y t h a t , by uprooting a u t h o r i t y , p h i l o s o p h y recognizes nature as the standard. For the h u m a n faculty t h a t , w i t h the help of sense-perception, discovers nature is reason or understanding, and the relation of reason or understanding to i t s objects is fundament a l l y different from t h a t obedience w i t h o u t reasoning w h y t h a t corresponds to a u t h o r i t y proper. By c a l l i n g nature the h i g h e s t a u t h o r i t y , one w o u l d blur the distinction by w h i c h p h i l o s o p h y stands or f a l l s , the distinction between reason and a u t h o r i t y . B y submitting t o a u t h o r i t y , p h i l o s o p h y , i n particular p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y , w o u l d lose i t s character; i t w o u l d degenerate into i d e o l o g y , i . e . , apologetics for a given or emerging social order, or it w o u l d undergo a transformation into t h e o l o g y o r l e g a l l e a r n i n g . W i t h regard t o the situation in the e i g h t e e n t h century, C h a r l e s Beard h a s said : " T h e c l e r g y and the monarchists claimed special r i g h t s as divine r i g h t . The revolutionists resorted to n a t u r e . " W h a t is true of t h e 1 4

13. Cicero Laws ii. 13 and 40; De finibus iv. 72; v. 17. 14. The Republic (New York, 1943), p. 38.


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eighteenth-century revolutionists is true, mutatis mutandis, of a l l philosophers q u a philosophers. The c l a s s i c a l philosophers did full justice to the great truth u n d e r l y i n g the identification of the good w i t h the ancestral. Yet t h e y could not h a v e l a i d bare-the u n d e r l y i n g truth if t h e y h a d not rejected t h a t identification itself in t h e first place. Socrates, in p a r t i c u l a r , w a s a v e r y conservative m a n as far as the u l t i m a t e p r a c t i c a l conclusions of h i s p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y w e r e concerned. Y e t A r i s tophanes pointed to the t r u t h by s u g g e s t i n g t h a t Socrates' fundamental premise could induce a son to beat up h i s o w n father, i . e . , to repudiate in practice t h e most n a t u r a l authority. The discovery of nature or of the fundamental distinction between nature and convention is the necessary condition for the emergence of the idea of n a t u r a l r i g h t . But it is not i t s sufficient c o n d i t i o n : a l l r i g h t m i g h t be conventional. T h i s prec i s e l y is t h e theme of the basic controversy in p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y : Is there a n y n a t u r a l r i g h t ? It seems t h a t the a n s w e r w h i c h p r e v a i l e d prior t o Socrates w a s the n e g a t i v e one, i . e . , the v i e w w h i c h w e have c a l l e d " c o n v e n t i o n a l i s m . " I t i s not surprising t h a t philosophers should first h a v e inclined t o w a r d conventionalism. R i g h t presents itself, to begin w i t h , as ident i c a l w i t h l a w or custom or as a character of i t ; and custom or convention comes to s i g h t , w i t h the emergence of p h i l o s o p h y , a s t h a t w h i c h hides nature. 16

The crucial pre-Socratic text is a s a y i n g of H e r a c l i t u s : "In God's v i e w , a l l t h i n g s are fair [noble] and good and just, but men h a v e made the supposition t h a t some t h i n g s are just a n d others are u n j u s t . " The v e r y distinction between just and unjust is m e r e l y a h u m a n supposition or a human c o n v e n t i o n . God, or w h a t e v e r one m a y c a l l the first cause, is beyond good 16

d

a

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15. Cf. Plato Laws 889 7-890 2 with 891 l-5 and 967 7 ff.; Aristotle Metaphysics 990 3-5 and De caclo 298 13-24; Thomas" Aquinas, Summa theologica i. qu. 44, a. 2. a

b

16. Frag. 102; cf. Frags. 58, 67, 80.


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and evil and even beyond good and bad. God is not concerned w i t h justice in a n y sense t h a t is r e l e v a n t to h u m a n life as such : God does not r e w a r d justice and punish injustice. Justice h a s no superhuman support. T h a t justice is good and injustice is bad is due e x c l u s i v e l y to h u m a n agencies and u l t i m a t e l y to h u m a n decisions. " N o traces of divine justice are found except w h e r e just men r e i g n ; o t h e r w i s e there is one event, as we see, to the r i g h t e o u s and to the w i c k e d . " The denial of n a t u r a l r i g h t thus appears to be the consequence of the denial of part i c u l a r p r o v i d e n c e . But the example of Aristotle alone w o u l d suffice to s h o w t h a t it is possible to a d m i t n a t u r a l r i g h t w i t h out believing in p a r t i c u l a r providence or in divine justice proper. 17

18

For, h o w e v e r indifferent to m o r a l distinctions the cosmic order m a y be t h o u g h t to be, h u m a n n a t u r e , as distinguished from nature in general, m a y v e r y w e l l be the basis of such distinctions. To i l l u s t r a t e the point by t h e example of the bestk n o w n pre-Socratic doctrine, n a m e l y , of a t o m i s m , the fact t h a t the atoms are beyond good and bad does not justify the inference t h a t there is nothing by nature good or bad for a n y compounds of atoms, and e s p e c i a l l y for those compounds w h i c h we c a l l " m e n . " In fact, no one can s a y t h a t a l l distinctions between good and bad w h i c h men m a k e or a l l h u m a n preferences are m e r e l y conventional. We must therefore d i s tinguish between those h u m a n desires and inclinations w h i c h 17. Spinoza, Tractatus theologico-politicus, chap, xix (§ 20, Bruder ed.). Victor Cathrein (Recht, Naturrecht und positives Recht [Freiburg im Breisgau, 1901], p. 1 3 9 ) says: ". . . lehnt man das Dasein eines persönlichen Schöpfers und Weltregierers ab, so ist das Naturrecht nicht mehr festzuhalten." b

18. Nicomachean Ethics 1178 7-22; F. Socinus, Praelectiones theologicae, cap. 2; Grotius, De jure belli ac pads, Prolegomena § 11; Leibniz, Nouveaux essais, Book I, chap, i i ; § 2. Consider the following passages from Rousseau's Contrat social: "On voit encore que les parties contractantes seraient entre elles sous la seule loi de nature et sans aucun garant de leurs engagements réciproques . . ." ( I l l , chap. 16) and "À considérer humainement les choses, faute de sanction naturelle, les lois de la justice sont vaines parmi les hommes" (II, chap. 6 ) .


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are n a t u r a l a n d those w h i c h o r i g i n a t e in conventions. Furthermore, we must distinguish between those human desires and inclinations w h i c h are in accordance w i t h human nature and therefore good for man, and those w h i c h are destructive of h i s nature or h i s h u m a n i t y and therefore b a d . We are t h u s led to the notion of a life, a h u m a n life, t h a t is good because it is in accordance w i t h n a t u r e . Both p a r t i e s to the controversy adm i t t h a t there is such a life, or, more g e n e r a l l y expressed, t h e y a d m i t the p r i m a c y of the good as distinguished from the j u s t . The controversial issue is w h e t h e r the just is good ( b y nature g o o d ) or w h e t h e r the life in accordance w i t h h u m a n nature requires justice or m o r a l i t y . 19

20

In order to arrive at a clear distinction between the n a t u r a l and the conventional, we h a v e to go back to the period in the life of the i n d i v i d u a l or of the race w h i c h antedates convention. We h a v e to go back to the o r i g i n s . W i t h a v i e w to the connection between r i g h t and c i v i l society, the question of the o r i g i n of r i g h t transforms itself into the question of the o r i g i n of c i v i l society or of society in general. T h i s question leads to the question of the o r i g i n of the h u m a n race. It further l e a d s t o the question o f w h a t m a n ' s o r i g i n a l condition w a s l i k e : w h e t h e r it w a s perfect or imperfect and, if it w a s imperfect, w h e t h e r the imperfection h a d the character of gentleness (good-naturedness or innocence) or of s a v a g e r y . 21

If we e x a m i n e the record of the age-old discussion of these questions, we can e a s i l y receive the impression t h a t almost 19. This notion was accepted by "almost a l l " classical philosophers, as Cicero emphasizes (De finibus v. 17). It was rejected, above all, by the Skeptics (see Sextus Empiricus Pyrrhonica iii. 235). c

d

e

c

d

20. Plato Republic 493 l-5, 504 4-505"4; Symposium 206 2-207"2; Theaetctus 177 6- 7; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1094 l-3 and 14-18. a

b

21. As regards reflections on how man is "immediately from the moment of his birth," see, e.g., Aristotle Politics 1254 23 and Nicomachean Ethics 1144 4-6; Cicero De finibus ii. 31-32; i i i . 16; v. 17, 43, and 55; Diogenes Laertius x. 137; Grotius, op. tit,, Prolegomena § 7; Hobbes, De cive, i, 2, annot. 1. a

b


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a n y answer to the questions regarding the origins is compatible w i t h the acceptance or the rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t . These difficulties h a v e contributed to the depreciation, not to s a y the complete disregard, of the questions concerning the o r i g i n of c i v i l society and of t h e condition of " t h e first m e n . " W h a t is important, we have been t o l d , is " t h e idea of the s t a t e " and i n n o w a y " t h e h i s t o r i c a l o r i g i n o f the s t a t e . " T h i s modern v i e w is a consequence of the rejection of nature as the standard. Nature and Freedom, R e a l i t y and Norm, the Is and the Ought, appeared to be w h o l l y independent of one a n other; hence it seemed t h a t we cannot learn a n y t h i n g important about c i v i l society and about r i g h t by s t u d y i n g the o r i g i n s . From the point of v i e w of the ancients, h o w e v e r , the question of the o r i g i n s is of decisive importance because the correct a n s w e r to it clarifies the s t a t u s , the d i g n i t y , of c i v i l society and of r i g h t . One inquires into t h e origins or t h e genesis of c i v i l society, or of r i g h t and w r o n g , in order to find out w h e t h e r c i v i l society and r i g h t or w r o n g are based on nature or merely on convention. And the question of the " e s s e n t i a l " o r i g i n of c i v i l society and of r i g h t or w r o n g cannot be answered w i t h o u t consideration of w h a t is k n o w n about the beginnings or the " h i s t o r i c a l " o r i g i n s . 22

2 3

24

As for the question of w h e t h e r m a n ' s a c t u a l condition in the beginning w a s perfect or imperfect, the answer to it decides w h e t h e r the h u m a n race is fully responsible for its actual i m perfection or w h e t h e r t h a t imperfection is " e x c u s e d " by the o r i g i n a l imperfection of the race. In other w o r d s , the v i e w 22. As for the combination of the assumption of savage beginnings with the acceptance of natural right, cf. Cicero Pro Sestio 91-92 with Tusc. Disp. v. 5-6, Republic i. 2, and Offices ii. 15. See also Polybius vi. 4. 7, 5. 7-6. 7, 7. 1. Consider the implication of Plato Laws 680 4-7 and of Aristotle Politics 1253 35-38. d

a

23. Hegel, Philosophy of Right, § 258; cf. Kant, Metaphysik der Sitten, ed. Vorlaender, pp. 142 and 206-7. a

a

24. Cf. Aristotle Politics 1252 18 ff. and 24 ff. with 1257 4 ff. Consider Plato Republic 369 5-7, Laws 676 l-3; also Cicero Republic i. 39-41. b

a


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t h a t m a n ' s beginning w a s perfect is in accordance w i t h the equation of the good w i t h the ancestral, as w e l l as w i t h theolo g y r a t h e r t h a n p h i l o s o p h y . For m a n remembered and adm i t t e d at a l l times t h a t the arts w e r e invented by m a n or t h a t the first a g e of the w o r l d did not k n o w the a r t s ; but p h i l o s o p h y necessarily presupposes the a r t s ; therefore, if the p h i l o sophic life is indeed the r i g h t life or the life according to nature, m a n ' s beginnings were necessarily imperfect. 25

For our present purpose it is sufficient to g i v e an a n a l y s i s of the standard argument used by conventionalism. T h a t a r g u ment is to the effect t h a t there cannot be n a t u r a l r i g h t because " t h e just t h i n g s " differ from society to society. T h i s a r g u ment h a s s h o w n an amazing v i t a l i t y t h r o u g h o u t the a g e s , a v i t a l i t y w h i c h seems t o contrast w i t h its intrinsic w o r t h . A s u s u a l l y presented, the argument consists of a simple enumeration of the different notions of justice t h a t prevail or prevailed in different n a t i o n s or at different times w i t h i n the same n a tion. As we h a v e indicated before, the mere fact of v a r i e t y or m u t a b i l i t y of " t h e just t h i n g s " or of the notions of justice does not w a r r a n t the rejection of n a t u r a l r i g h t except if one m a k e s certain assumptions, and these assumptions are in most cases not even stated. We are therefore compelled to reconstruct the conventionalist argument out of scattered and fragmentary r e m a r k s . It is granted on a l l sides that there cannot be n a t u r a l r i g h t if the principles of r i g h t are not u n c h a n g e a b l e . But the facts to w h i c h conventionalism refers do not seem to prove t h a t the principles of r i g h t are changeable. T h e y merely seem to prove t h a t different societies have different notions of justice or of the principles of justice. As l i t t l e as m a n ' s v a r y i n g notions of 26

b

b

c

b

25. Plato Laws 677 5-678 3, 679 ; Aristotle Metaphysics 981 13-25. b

b

26. Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1094 14-16 and 1134 18-27; Cicero Republic iii. 1318 and 20; Sextus Empiricus Pyrrhonica iii. 218 and 222. Cf. Plato Laws 889 6-8 and Xenophon Memorabilia iv. 4. 1 9 . e

98


the universe prove t h a t there is no universe or t h a t there cannot be the true account of the universe or t h a t man can never arrive at true and final k n o w l e d g e of the universe, so l i t t l e seem m a n ' s v a r y i n g notions of justice to prove t h a t there is no n a t u r a l r i g h t o r t h a t natural r i g h t i s u n k n o w a b l e . The v a r i e t y of notions of justice can be understood as the v a r i e t y of errors, w h i c h v a r i e t y does not contradict, but presupposes, the existence of the one truth regarding justice. This objection to conventionalism w o u l d hold if the existence of natural r i g h t w e r e compatible w i t h the fact that a l l men or most men w e r e or are ignorant of n a t u r a l r i g h t . But w h e n s p e a k i n g of natural r i g h t , one i m p l i e s t h a t justice is of v i t a l importance to man or t h a t man cannot l i v e or l i v e w e l l w i t h o u t justice; and life in accordance w i t h justice requires k n o w l e d g e of the principles of justice. If man h a s such a nature t h a t he cannot l i v e , or l i v e w e l l , w i t h o u t justice, he must h a v e by nature k n o w l e d g e of the principles of justice. But if t h i s w e r e the case, a l l men w o u l d agree as regards the principles of justice, just as t h e y agree as regards the sensible q u a l i t i e s . 27

Yet t h i s demand seems to be unreasonable; there is not even universal agreement as regards the sensible q u a l i t i e s . Not a l l men, but o n l y a l l normal men, agree as regards sounds, colors, and the l i k e . Accordingly, the existence of natural r i g h t requires merely t h a t a l l normal men should agree as regards the principles of justice. The l a c k of universal agreement can be explained by a corruption of h u m a n nature in those w h o i g nore the true principles, a corruption w h i c h , for obvious reasons, is more frequent and more effective than the corresponding corruption in regard to the perception of sensible q u a l i t i e s . But if it is true t h a t the notions of justice differ from society to society or from age to a g e , t h i s v i e w of n a t u r a l r i g h t w i l l l e a d to the hard consequence t h a t the members of one par28

27. Cicero Republic iii. 13 and Laws i. 47; Plato Laws 889 . c

28. Cicero Laws i. 33 and 47.


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t i c u l a r society or perhaps even o n l y one generation in one part i c u l a r society or, at the most, the members of some p a r t i c u l a r societies must be regarded as the o n l y normal human beings in existence. For a l l practical purposes, t h i s means t h a t the natural r i g h t teacher w i l l identify n a t u r a l r i g h t w i t h those notions of justice t h a t are cherished by h i s o w n society or by h i s o w n " c i v i l i z a t i o n . " B y speaking o f n a t u r a l r i g h t , h e w i l l d o nothing else t h a n c l a i m universal v a l i d i t y for the prejudices of h i s group. If it is asserted t h a t , as a m a t t e r of fact, m a n y societies agree in regard to the principles of justice, it is at least as p l a u s i b l e to rejoin t h a t this agreement is due to a c c i d e n t a l causes ( s u c h as s i m i l a r i t y of conditions of life or m u t u a l influe n c e ) than to s a y t h a t these p a r t i c u l a r societies alone h a v e preserved h u m a n nature intact. If it is asserted t h a t a l l c i v i lized n a t i o n s agree in regard to the principles of justice, one w o u l d f i r s t h a v e t o k n o w w h a t i s meant b y " c i v i l i z a t i o n . " I f the n a t u r a l r i g h t teacher identifies c i v i l i z a t i o n w i t h recognition of n a t u r a l r i g h t or an equivalent, he s a y s , in effect, t h a t a l l men w h o accept the principles of n a t u r a l r i g h t accept the principles of n a t u r a l r i g h t . If he understands by " c i v i l i z a t i o n " a h i g h development of the arts or sciences, his contention is refuted by t h e fact t h a t conventionalists are frequently c i v i lized men; and believers in n a t u r a l r i g h t or in the principles w h i c h are s a i d to constitute the essence of n a t u r a l r i g h t are frequently v e r y l i t t l e c i v i l i z e d . 29

T h i s argument a g a i n s t n a t u r a l r i g h t presupposes t h a t a l l k n o w l e d g e w h i c h men need in order to l i v e w e l l is n a t u r a l in the sense in w h i c h the perception of sensible q u a l i t i e s and other k i n d s of effortless perception are n a t u r a l . It loses i t s force, therefore, once one assumes t h a t k n o w l e d g e of n a t u r a l r i g h t must be acquired by human effort or t h a t k n o w l e d g e of n a t u r a l r i g h t h a s the character of science. T h i s w o u l d e x p l a i n w h y k n o w l e d g e o f n a t u r a l r i g h t i s not a l w a y s a v a i l a b l e . I t 29. Cf. Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Book I, chap, iii, sec. 20.

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w o u l d l e a d to the consequence t h a t there is no p o s s i b i l i t y of a good or just life or no p o s s i b i l i t y of " t h e cessation of e v i l " before such k n o w l e d g e h a s become a v a i l a b l e . But science h a s a s its object w h a t i s a l w a y s o r w h a t i s unchangeable o r w h a t is t r u l y . Therefore, natural r i g h t , or justice, must t r u l y e x i s t , and therefore it must " h a v e e v e r y w h e r e the same p o w e r . " Thus it seems t h a t it must h a v e an effect t h a t is a l w a y s t h e same and t h a t never ceases at least on h u m a n t h o u g h t on j u s t i c e . Y e t , in fact, we see t h a t h u m a n t h o u g h t s on justice are in a state of disagreement and fluctuation. 3 0

But t h i s v e r y fluctuation and disagreement w o u l d seem to prove the effectiveness of n a t u r a l r i g h t . As regards such t h i n g s as are u n q u e s t i o n a b l y c o n v e n t i o n a l — w e i g h t s , measures money, and the l i k e — o n e can h a r d l y speak of disagreement between the various societies. Different societies m a k e different arrangements in regard to w e i g h t s , measures, and m o n e y ; these arrangements do not contradict one another. But if different societies h o l d different v i e w s regarding the principles of justice, their v i e w s contradict one another. Differences regarding t h i n g s w h i c h are u n q u e s t i o n a b l y conventional do not arouse serious perplexities, w h e r e a s differences r e g a r d i n g the principles of r i g h t and w r o n g necessarily do. The disagreement r e g a r d i n g the principles of justice t h u s seems to reveal a genuine p e r p l e x i t y aroused by a d i v i n a t i o n or insufficient grasp of n a t u r a l r i g h t — a p e r p l e x i t y caused by something selfsubsistent or n a t u r a l t h a t eludes h u m a n g r a s p . T h i s suspicion could be t h o u g h t to be confirmed by a fact w h i c h , at first g l a n c e , seems to speak d e c i s i v e l y in favor of conventionalism. E v e r y w h e r e it is said t h a t it is just to do w h a t the l a w commands o r t h a t the just i s identical w i t h the l e g a l , i . e . , w i t h w h a t h u m a n beings establish as l e g a l or agree to r e g a r d as l e g a l . Y e t does t h i s not i m p l y t h a t there is a measure of u n i versal agreement in regard to justice? It is true t h a t , on reflecb

30. Aristotle Nicomachtan Ethics 1134 19.


101

tion, people deny t h a t the just is s i m p l y identical w i t h the l e g a l , for t h e y speak of " u n j u s t " l a w s . But does not the unreflective universal agreement point to the w o r k i n g s of nature? And does not the untenable character of the universal belief in the i d e n t i t y of the just w i t h the l e g a l indicate t h a t the l e g a l , w h i l e not being identical w i t h the just, reflects n a t u r a l r i g h t more or less d i m l y ? The evidence adduced by conventionalism i s perfectly compatible w i t h the p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t exists and, as it w e r e , solicits the indefinite v a r i e t y of notions of justice or the indefinite v a r i e t y of l a w s , or is at the bottom of all l a w s . 3 1

The decision depends n o w on the result of the a n a l y s i s of l a w . L a w reveals itself as something self-contradictory. On the one h a n d , it claims to be something e s s e n t i a l l y good or noble: it is the l a w t h a t saves the cities and e v e r y t h i n g else. On the other h a n d , the l a w presents itself as the common opinion or decision of the c i t y , i . e . , of the m u l t i t u d e of citizens. As such, it is by no means e s s e n t i a l l y good or noble. It m a y v e r y w e l l be the w o r k of folly and baseness. There is c e r t a i n l y no reason to assume t h a t the m a k e r s of l a w s are as a rule w i s e r t h a n " y o u and I " ; w h y , then, should " y o u and I " submit t o their decision? The mere fact that the same l a w s w h i c h were solemnly enacted by the c i t y are repealed by the same c i t y w i t h equal s o l e m n i t y w o u l d seem to s h o w the doubtful character of the w i s d o m t h a t w e n t into their m a k i n g . The question, then, i s w h e t h e r the c l a i m of the l a w to be something good or noble can be s i m p l y dismissed as a l t o g e t h e r unfounded or w h e t h e r it contains an element of truth. 3 2

The l a w c l a i m s t h a t i t saves the cities and e v e r y t h i n g else. It c l a i m s to secure the common good. But the common good is a

d

6

31. Plato Republic 34C 7-8 and 338 10- 2; Xenophon Memorabilia iv. 6. 6; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1129 12; Heraclitus, Frag. 114. b

d-e

d

d

'c

,e

32. Plato Hippias maior 284 Laws 644 2-3 and 780 4-5; Minos 314 l- 5; Xenophon Memorabilia i. 2. 42 and iv. 4.14; Aeschylus Seven 1071-72; Aristophanes Clouds 1421-22.

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e x a c t l y w h a t w e mean b y " t h e j u s t . " L a w s are just t o the e x tent t h a t t h e y are conducive to the common good. But if the just is i d e n t i c a l w i t h the common good, the just or r i g h t cannot be conventional: the conventions of a c i t y cannot m a k e good for the c i t y w h a t i s , in fact, fatal for it and vice versa. The nature of t h i n g s and not convention then determines in each case w h a t i s just. T h i s i m p l i e s t h a t w h a t i s just m a y v e r y w e l l differ from c i t y to c i t y and from period to period: the v a r i e t y of just t h i n g s is not o n l y compatible w i t h , but a consequence of, the principle of justice, n a m e l y , t h a t the just is identical w i t h t h e common good. K n o w l e d g e of w h a t is just here and n o w , w h i c h is k n o w l e d g e of w h a t is by nature, or i n t r i n s i c a l l y , good for t h i s c i t y n o w , cannot be scientific k n o w l e d g e . S t i l l less can it be k n o w l e d g e of the type of senseperception. To establish w h a t is just in each case is the function of the p o l i t i c a l art or s k i l l . T h a t art or s k i l l is comparable to the art of the p h y s i c i a n , w h o e s t a b l i s h e s w h a t is in each case h e a l t h y or good for the h u m a n b o d y . 33

Conventionalism avoids t h i s consequence by denying t h a t there is in t r u t h a common good. W h a t is c a l l e d the "common g o o d " i s , in fact, in each case the good, not of the w h o l e , but of a part. The l a w s w h i c h c l a i m to be directed t o w a r d the common good c l a i m indeed to be t h e decision of the c i t y . But the c i t y o w e s such u n i t y as it possesses, and t h e r e w i t h i t s being, t o i t s " c o n s t i t u t i o n " o r t o i t s r e g i m e : the c i t y i s a l w a y s either a democracy or an o l i g a r c h y or a m o n a r c h y and so on. The difference of regimes h a s i t s root in the difference of the parts or sections out of w h i c h the c i t y is composed. Therefore, every regime is the rule of a section of the c i t y . Hence the l a w s are, in fact, t h e w o r k not of the c i t y but of t h a t section of the c i t y w h i c h happens to be in control. It is needless to s a y t h a t democracy, w h i c h c l a i m s to be the rule of a l l , i s , in fact, the b

B

33. Cf. Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1129 17-I9 and Politics 1282 15-17 with Plato Theatetus 167 2-8, 1 7 2 l - 6 , and 177 6-178 l. c

a

b

c

b


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rule of a p a r t ; for democracy is at the most the rule of the m a j o r i t y of a l l adults w h o i n h a b i t the territory of the c i t y ; but the m a j o r i t y are the poor; and the poor are a section, h o w e v e r numerous, w h i c h h a s an interest distinct from the interests of the other sections. The r u l i n g section i s , of course, concerned e x c l u s i v e l y w i t h its o w n interest. But it pretends for an obvious reason t h a t the l a w s w h i c h i t l a y s down w i t h a v i e w t o its o w n interest are good for the c i t y as a w h o l e . 3 4

Y e t m a y there not be m i x e d r e g i m e s , i . e . , regimes w h i c h more or less successfully t r y to establish a fair balance between the conflicting interests of the essential sections of the c i t y ? Or is it not possible t h a t the true interest of one p a r t i c u l a r section (of t h e poor or of the gentlemen, for e x a m p l e ) coincides w i t h the common interest? Objections of t h i s k i n d presuppose t h a t the c i t y is a genuine w h o l e or, more precisely, t h a t the c i t y exists by nature. But the c i t y w o u l d seem to be a convent i o n a l or fictitious u n i t y . For w h a t is natural comes into being and exists w i t h o u t violence. A l l violence applied to a being m a k e s t h a t being do something w h i c h goes against i t s g r a i n , i . e . , a g a i n s t its nature. But the c i t y stands or falls by v i o l e n c e , compulsion, or coercion. There i s , then, no essential difference between p o l i t i c a l rule and the rule of a master over h i s s l a v e s . But the unnatural character of slavery seems to be obvious: it goes a g a i n s t a n y m a n ' s g r a i n to be made a slave or to be treated as a s l a v e . 35

Furthermore, the c i t y is a m u l t i t u d e of citizens. A citizen appears to be the offspring, the n a t u r a l product, of born c i t i zens, of a citizen father and a citizen mother. Yet he is a citizen only if the citizen father and the citizen mother w h o generated 34. Plato Laws 889 4-890 2 and 714 3- 10; Republic 338 7-339 4 and 340 7-8; Cicero Republic iii. 23. d

a

b

d

d

a

a

35. Aristotle Politics 1252 7-17, 1253 20-23, 1255 8-11 (cf. Nicomachean Ethics 1096 5-6, 1109 35-1110 4, 1110 15-17, 1179 28-29, 1180 4-5, 18-21; Metaphysics 1015 26-33). Plato Protagoras 337 7- 3; Laws 642 6- l; Cicero Republic iii. 23 ; De finibus v. 56; Fortescue, De laudibus legum Angliae chap, xlii (ed. Chrimes, p. 104). a

a

a

b

a

b

b

c

a

a

b

d

c

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h i m are l a w f u l l y wedded to each other, or r a t h e r if h i s presumed father is the husband of h i s mother. Otherwise, he is o n l y a " n a t u r a l " c h i l d and not a " l e g i t i m a t e " c h i l d . And w h a t a l e g i t i m a t e c h i l d is depends not on nature but on l a w or convention. For the f a m i l y in g e n e r a l , and the monogamous f a m i l y in p a r t i c u l a r , is not a n a t u r a l group, as even Plato w a s forced to a d m i t . There is also the fact c a l l e d " n a t u r a l i z a t i o n , " by virtue of w h i c h a " n a t u r a l " foreigner is artificially transformed into a " n a t u r a l " citizen. In a w o r d , w h o is or w h o is not a citizen depends on the l a w , and on the l a w alone. The difference between citizens and noncitizens is not n a t u r a l but conventional. Therefore, a l l citizens are, in fact, " m a d e " and not " b o r n . " It is convention t h a t a r b i t r a r i l y cuts off one segment of the h u m a n race and sets it off a g a i n s t the rest. One m i g h t t h i n k for a moment t h a t the c i v i l society w h i c h is t r u l y n a t u r a l , or the genuine c i v i l society, w o u l d coincide w i t h the group t h a t embraces a l l those, and o n l y those, w h o speak the same l a n g u a g e . But l a n g u a g e s are a d m i t t e d l y conventional. A c c o r d i n g l y , the distinction between Greeks and barbarians is merely conventional. It is as a r b i t r a r y as the division of a l l numbers into t w o groups, one consisting of the number 10,000 and the other consisting of a l l other numbers. The same applies to the distinction between free men and s l a v e s . T h i s d i s tinction is based on the convention t h a t people t a k e n prisoner in w a r and not ransomed are to be m a d e s l a v e s ; not nature but convention m a k e s slaves, and t h e r e w i t h freemen as d i s t i n guished from s l a v e s . To conclude, the c i t y is a m u l t i t u d e of human beings w h o are united not by nature but s o l e l y by convention. T h e y h a v e united or banded together in order to t a k e care of their common interest—over a g a i n s t other human beings w h o are not by nature d i s t i n g u i s h e d from t h e m : over a g a i n s t foreigners and slaves. Hence w h a t claims to be the common good i s , in fact, the interest of a part w h i c h c l a i m s to be a w h o l e , or a part w h i c h forms a u n i t y o n l y by v i r t u e of


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t h i s c l a i m , t h i s pretense, this convention. If the c i t y is convent i o n a l , the common good is conventional, and t h e r e w i t h it is proved t h a t r i g h t or justice is c o n v e n t i o n a l . H o w adequate t h i s account of justice i s , is said to appear from the fact t h a t it " s a v e s the p h e n o m e n a " of justice; it is said to m a k e i n t e l l i g i b l e those simple experiences r e g a r d i n g r i g h t and w r o n g w h i c h are at t h e bottom of the n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrines. In those experiences, justice is understood as t h e h a b i t of refraining from h u r t i n g others or as the h a b i t of h e l p ing others or as the h a b i t of subordinating the good of a p a r t ( t h e good of the i n d i v i d u a l or of a s e c t i o n ) to the good of the w h o l e . J u s t i c e thus understood is indeed necessary for t h e preservation of the c i t y . But it is unfortunate for the defenders of justice t h a t it is also required for the preservation of a g a n g of robbers: the g a n g could not l a s t a single d a y if i t s members did not refrain from h u r t i n g one another, if t h e y did not h e l p one another, or if each member did not subordinate h i s o w n good to the good of the g a n g . To t h i s the objection is m a d e t h a t the justice practiced by robbers is not genuine justice or t h a t it is precisely justice w h i c h distinguishes the c i t y from a g a n g of robbers. The so-called " j u s t i c e " of robbers is in the service of manifest injustice. But is not e x a c t l y the same true of the c i t y ? If the c i t y is not a genuine w h o l e , w h a t is c a l l e d the " g o o d of the w h o l e , " or the just, in opposition to the unjust or selfish, i s , in fact, m e r e l y the demand of c o l l e c t i v e selfishness; and there is no reason w h y collective selfishness should c l a i m to be more respectable than the selfishness of t h e i n d i v i d u a l . In other w o r d s , the robbers are said to practice j u s tice o n l y among themselves, w h e r e a s the c i t y is said to p r a c tice justice also t o w a r d those w h o do not belong to the c i t y or 36

36. Antiphon, in Diels, Vorsokratiker (5th ed.), B44 (A7, B2). Plato Protagoras 337 7- 3; Republic 456 12- 3 (and context); Statesman 262 10- 5; Xenophon Hiero 4. 3-4; Aristotle Politics 1275 1-2, 21-31, 1278-30-35; Cicero Republic iii. 16-17 and Laws ii. 5. Consider the implication of the comparison of civil societies to "herds" (see Xenophon Cyropaedia i. 1. 2; cf. Plato Minos 318 1-3). c

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t o w a r d other c i t i e s . But is t h i s true? A r e the m a x i m s of foreign p o l i c y e s s e n t i a l l y different from the m a x i m s on w h i c h g a n g s of robbers act? Can t h e y be different? Are cities not compelled to use force and fraud or to t a k e a w a y from other cities w h a t belong to the l a t t e r , if they are to prosper? Do t h e y not come into being by usurping a part of the e a r t h ' s surface w h i c h by nature belongs e q u a l l y to a l l o t h e r s ? ' 37

It i s , of course, possible for the c i t y to refrain from h u r t i n g other cities or to be resigned to p o v e r t y , just as the i n d i v i d u a l can l i v e j u s t l y if he w a n t s to. But t h e question is w h e t h e r in a c t i n g t h u s men w o u l d l i v e according to nature or m e r e l y foll o w convention. Experience shows t h a t o n l y few i n d i v i d u a l s and h a r d l y a n y cities act j u s t l y except w h e n t h e y are compelled to do so. Experience s h o w s t h a t justice by itself is ineffectual. T h i s m e r e l y confirms w h a t w a s shown before, t h a t justice h a s no basis in nature. The common good proved to be the selfish interest of a collective. The selfish interest of the collective is derived from the selfish interest of the o n l y natur a l elements of the collective, n a m e l y , of the i n d i v i d u a l s . By nature everyone seeks h i s o w n good and n o t h i n g but h i s o w n good. J u s t i c e , h o w e v e r , tells us to seek other m e n ' s good. W h a t justice demands from us is then a g a i n s t nature. The natu r a l good, the good w h i c h does not depend on the w h i m s and follies of m a n , t h i s substantial good appears to be the v e r y opposite o f t h a t s h a d o w y good called " r i g h t " o r " j u s t i c e . " It is the n a t u r a l good w h i c h is one's o w n good t o w a r d w h i c h everyone is d r a w n by nature, w h e r e a s r i g h t or justice becomes a t t r a c t i v e o n l y t h r o u g h compulsion and u l t i m a t e l y t h r o u g h convention. Even those w h o assert t h a t r i g h t is n a t u r a l h a v e to a d m i t t h a t justice consists in a k i n d of reciprocity; men are bidden to do to others w h a t t h e y desire to h a v e done to themselves. M e n are compelled to benefit others because t h e y desire 37- Plato Republic 335 11-12 and 351 7- 13; Xenophon Memorabilia iv. 4. 12 and 8. 11; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1129 ll-19, 1130 3-5 and 1 1 3 4 2 - 6 ; Cicero Offices i. 28-29; Republic i i i . 11-31. c

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to be benefited by others: in order to receive kindness, one must s h o w kindness. J u s t i c e appears to be derivative from selfishness and subservient to i t . T h i s amounts to an admission t h a t by nature everyone seeks o n l y h i s o w n good. To be good at seeking one's o w n good is prudence or w i s d o m . Prudence or w i s d o m is therefore incompatible w i t h justice proper. The man w h o is t r u l y just is u n w i s e or a fool—a man duped by convention. 38

Conventionalism c l a i m s , then, to be perfectly compatible w i t h the admission t h a t the c i t y and r i g h t are useful for t h e i n d i v i d u a l : the i n d i v i d u a l is too w e a k to l i v e , or to l i v e w e l l , w i t h o u t the assistance of others. Everyone is better off in c i v i l society t h a n in a condition of solitude and s a v a g e r y . Yet the fact t h a t something is useful does not prove t h a t it is n a t u r a l . Crutches are useful for a man w h o h a s lost a l e g ; is w e a r i n g crutches according to nature? Or, to express t h i s more adeq u a t e l y , can t h i n g s t h a t exist e x c l u s i v e l y because c a l c u l a t i o n h a s found out t h a t t h e y w o u l d be useful be said to be n a t u r a l to man? Can one s a y of t h i n g s w h i c h are desired e x c l u s i v e l y on the basis of calculation or w h i c h are not desired spontaneously or for t h e i r o w n s a k e t h a t t h e y are n a t u r a l to man? The c i t y and r i g h t are no doubt a d v a n t a g e o u s ; but are t h e y free from great disadvantages? Therefore, the conflict between the selfinterest of the i n d i v i d u a l and the demands of the c i t y or of right is i n e v i t a b l e . The c i t y cannot settle t h i s conflict except by declaring t h a t the c i t y or r i g h t is of h i g h e r d i g n i t y t h a n the self-interest of the i n d i v i d u a l or t h a t it is sacred. But t h i s c l a i m , w h i c h is of the essence of the c i t y and of r i g h t , is essentially fictitious. 39

The nerve of the conventionalist argument, then, is t h i s : 38. Thrasymachus, in Dicls, Vorsokratiker (5th éd.), B8; Plato Republic 343 3, 6-7, 2 , 348=11-12, 360 5; Protagoras 333 4- l ; Xenophon Memorabilia ii. 2. 11-12; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1130 3-5, H32 33-1133 5, 1134 5-6; Cicero Republic iii. 16, 20, 21, 23, 24, 29-30. c

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39. Plato Protagoras 322 6, 327 4- l; Cicero Republic i. 39-40, iii. 23, 26; De finibus i i . 59; cf. also Rousseau, Discours sur l'origine de l'inégalité (Flammarion éd.), p. 173. b

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r i g h t is conventional because r i g h t belongs e s s e n t i a l l y to the c i t y and the c i t y is conventional. Contrary to our first i m pression, conventionalism does not assert t h a t the meaning of r i g h t or justice is a l t o g e t h e r a r b i t r a r y or t h a t there is no u n i versal agreement of a n y k i n d in r e g a r d to r i g h t or justice. On the contrary, conventionalism presupposes t h a t a l l men understand by justice fundamentally the same t h i n g : to be just means not to hurt others, or it means to h e l p others or to be concerned w i t h the common good. Conventionalism rejects n a t u r a l r i g h t on these grounds: ( 1 ) justice stands in an inescapable tension w i t h everyone's n a t u r a l desire, w h i c h i s directed s o l e l y t o w a r d h i s o w n good; ( 2 ) a s far a s justice h a s a foundation in nature—as far as it i s , g e n e r a l l y s p e a k i n g , adv a n t a g e o u s to the i n d i v i d u a l — i t s demands are l i m i t e d to the members of the c i t y , i . e . , of a conventional u n i t ; w h a t is called " n a t u r a l r i g h t " consists of certain rough rules of social expediency w h i c h are v a l i d o n l y for the members of the part i c u l a r group and w h i c h , i n a d d i t i o n , l a c k universal v a l i d i t y even i n intra-group r e l a t i o n s ; ( 3 ) w h a t i s u n i v e r s a l l y meant b y " r i g h t " o r " j u s t i c e " leaves w h o l l y undetermined the precise meaning of " h e l p i n g " or " h u r t i n g " or " t h e common g o o d " ; it is o n l y t h r o u g h specification t h a t these terms become t r u l y meaningful, and every specification is convent i o n a l . The v a r i e t y of notions of justice confirms rather t h a n proves the conventional character of justice. 4 0

W h e n Plato attempts to establish t h e existence of n a t u r a l r i g h t , he reduces the conventionalist thesis to the premise t h a t the good i s identical w i t h the p l e a s a n t . Conversely, w e see t h a t classical hedonism led to the most uncompromising depreciation of the w h o l e p o l i t i c a l sphere. It w o u l d not be surprising if the p r i m e v a l equation of the good w i t h the ancestral h a d been replaced, first of a l l , by the equation of the good w i t h the p l e a s a n t . For w h e n the p r i m e v a l equation is a

40. Aristotle Politics 1253 37-38.


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rejected on the basis of the distinction between nature and convention, t h e t h i n g s forbidden by ancestral custom or the divine l a w present themselves a s e m p h a t i c a l l y n a t u r a l and hence i n t r i n s i c a l l y good. The t h i n g s forbidden by ancestral custom are forbidden because t h e y are desired; and the fact t h a t t h e y are forbidden by convention s h o w s t h a t t h e y are not desired on the basis of convention; t h e y are then desired by nature. N o w w h a t induces man to deviate from the n a r r o w p a t h of ancestral custom or divine l a w appears to be the desire for pleasure and the aversion to p a i n . The natural good t h u s appears to be pleasure. Orientation by pleasure becomes the first substitute for the orientation by the a n c e s t r a l . 41

The most developed form of classical hedonism is Epicureanism. Epicureanism is c e r t a i n l y t h a t form of conventionalism w h i c h h a s exercised the greatest influence throughout the a g e s . Epicureanism i s u n a m b i g u o u s l y m a t e r i a l i s t i c . And i t w a s in m a t e r i a l i s m t h a t Plato found the root of c o n v e n t i o n a l i s m . The Epicurean argument runs as f o l l o w s : To find w h a t is by 42

nature good, we h a v e to see w h a t k i n d of t h i n g it is w h o s e goodness is guaranteed by nature or w h o s e goodness is felt independently of a n y opinion, and hence, in particular, independently of a n y convention. W h a t is good by nature s h o w s itself in w h a t we seek from the moment of birth, prior to a l l reasoning, c a l c u l a t i o n , discipline, restraint, or compulsion. Good, in t h i s sense, is only the pleasant. Pleasure is the o n l y good t h a t is i m m e d i a t e l y felt or sensibly perceived as good. Therefore, the p r i m a r y pleasure is the pleasure of the body, and t h i s means, of course, the pleasure of one's o w n body; everyone seeks by nature only h i s o w n good; a l l concern w i t h other people's good is d e r i v a t i v e . Opinion, w h i c h comprises 41. Antiphon, in Diels, Vorsokratihr (5th ed.), B44, A5; Thucydides v. 105; Plato Republic 164 2-4 and 538 6-539 4; Laws 662 , 875 l- 3, 886 8- 2, 888 3; Protagoras 352 6 ff.; Clitophon 407 4-6; Eighth Letter 354 5-355 l (cf. also Gorgias 4 9 5 l - 5 ) ; Xenophon Memorabilia i i . 1; Cicero Laws i. 36 and 38-39. a

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both right and w r o n g reasoning, leads men t o w a r d three k i n d s of objects of choice: t o w a r d the greatest pleasure, t o w a r d the useful, and t o w a r d the noble. As for the first, since we observe that various kinds of pleasure are connected w i t h p a i n , we are induced to distinguish between more or less preferable p l e a s ures. Thus we notice the difference between those n a t u r a l pleasures w h i c h are necessary and those w h i c h are not necessary. Furthermore, we realize t h a t there are pleasures w h i c h are free of a n y admixture of p a i n , and others w h i c h are not. F i n a l l y , we are led to see t h a t there is a term of pleasure, a complete pleasure, and t h i s pleasure proves to be the end tow a r d w h i c h we are tending by nature and to be accessible o n l y through p h i l o s o p h y . As for the useful, it is not in itself p l e a s ant, but is conducive to pleasure, to genuine pleasure. The noble, on the other hand, is neither g e n u i n e l y pleasant nor conducive to genuine pleasure. The noble is t h a t w h i c h is praised, w h i c h is pleasant o n l y because it is praised or because it is regarded as honorable; the noble is good o n l y because people c a l l it good or s a y t h a t it is good; it is good o n l y by convention. The noble reflects in a distorted manner the substantial good for the sake of w h i c h men made the fundamental convention or the social compact. V i r t u e belongs to the class of the useful t h i n g s . V i r tue i s , indeed, desirable, but it is not desirable for its o w n sake. It becomes desirable o n l y on the basis of c a l c u l a t i o n , and it contains an element of compulsion and therefore of p a i n . It i s , h o w e v e r , productive of p l e a s u r e . Yet there is a crucial difference between justice and the other virtues. Prudence, temperance, and courage bring about pleasure t h r o u g h t h e i r 43

43. Epicurus Ratae sentential 7; Diogenes Laertius x 137; Cicero De finibus i. 30, 3 2 , 33, 35, 37, 38, 42, 45, 54, 55, 61, 63; ii. 48, 49, 107, 115; iii. 3; iv. 51; Offices iii. 116-17; Tusc. Disp. v. 73; Acad. Pr. ii. 140; Republic iii. 26. Cf. the formulation of the Epicurean principle by Philip Melanchthon (Philosophiae moralis epitome, Part I: Corpus Reformatorum, Vol. XVI, col. 32): "Ilia actio est finis, ad quam natura ultro fertur, et non coacta. Ad voluptatem ultro rapiuntur homines maximo impetu, ad virtutem vix cogi possunt. Ergo voluptas est finis hominis, non virtus." Cf. also Hobbes, De cive, i, 2.


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n a t u r a l consequences, w h e r e a s justice produces the pleasure w h i c h is expected from i t — a sense of s e c u r i t y — o n l y on the basis of convention. The other v i r t u e s h a v e a s a l u t a r y effect regardless of w h e t h e r or not other people k n o w of one's being prudent, temperate, or courageous. But one's justice h a s a s a l u t a r y effect o n l y if one is t h o u g h t to be just. The other vices are e v i l s independently of w h e t h e r t h e y are detected or detectable by others or not. But injustice is an e v i l o n l y w i t h a v i e w to the h a r d l y a v o i d a b l e danger of detection. The tension between justice and w h a t is by nature good comes out most c l e a r l y if one compares justice w i t h friendship. Both justice and friendship o r i g i n a t e in c a l c u l a t i o n , but friendship comes to be int r i n s i c a l l y p l e a s a n t or desirable for i t s o w n s a k e . Friendship is at a n y rate incompatible w i t h compulsion. But justice and the association t h a t is concerned w i t h justice—the c i t y — s t a n d or fall by compulsion. And compulsion is u n p l e a s a n t . 44

The greatest document of p h i l o s o p h i c conventionalism and, in fact, i t s o n l y document a v a i l a b l e to us t h a t is both a u t h e n t i c 44. Epicurus Ratae sententiae 34; Gnomologium Vaticanum 23; Cicero De finibus i. 51 (cf. 41), 65-70; i i . 28 and 82; Offices iii. 118. In Ratae sententiae 31, Epicurus says: "The right [or the just] of nature is a symbolon of the advantage deriving from men's not harming each other and not being harmed." As is shown by Ratae sententiae 32 ff., this cannot mean that there is a natural right in the strict sense, i.e., a right independent of, or prior to, all covenants or compacts: the symbolon is identical with a compact of some kind. What Epicurus suggests is that, in spite of the infinite variety of just things, justice or right is everywhere designed primarily to fulfil one and the same function: right understood in the light of its universal or primary function is, in a sense, "the right of nature." It is opposed to the fabulous or superstitious accounts of justice which are generally accepted in the cities. "The right of nature" is that principle of right which is admitted by the conventionalist doctrine. "The right of nature" thus becomes equivalent to "the nature of right" (Ratae sententiae 37) as opposed to the false opinions about right. The expression "the nature of right" is used by Glaucon in his summary of the conventionalist doctrine in the Republic (359 4-5): the nature of right consists in a certain convention that is against nature. Gassendi, the famous restorer of Epicureanism, had stronger incentives than the ancient Epicureans for asserting the existence of natural right. In addition, Hobbes had taught him how Epicureanism could be combined with the assertion of natural right. Yet Gassendi did not avail himself of this novel opportunity. See his paraphrase of Ratae sententiae 31 (Animadversiones [Lyon, 1649], pp. 1 7 4 8 - 9 ) . b

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and comprehensive is the poem On the Nature of Things by the Epicurean Lucretius. According to Lucretius, men roamed o r i g i n a l l y in forests, w i t h o u t social bonds of a n y k i n d or w i t h o u t a n y conventional restraint. Their w e a k n e s s and t h e i r fear of the dangers threatening them from w i l d beasts induced them to unite for the s a k e of protection or for the s a k e of the pleasure deriving from security. After t h e y entered society, the s a v a g e life of the beginning g a v e w a y to h a b i t s of k i n d ness and fidelity. T h i s e a r l y society, the society antedating by far the foundation of c i t i e s , w a s the best and most h a p p y soc i e t y t h a t ever w a s . R i g h t w o u l d be n a t u r a l if the life of the e a r l y society w e r e the life according to nature. But the life according to nature is the life of the philosopher. And philosop h y is impossible in e a r l y society. P h i l o s o p h y h a s its home in c i t i e s , and the destruction, or at l e a s t the impairment, of the w a y of life characteristic of e a r l y society is characteristic of the life in c i t i e s . The happiness of the philosopher, the o n l y true happiness, belongs to an e n t i r e l y different epoch than the happiness of society. There i s , then, a disproportion between the requirements of p h i l o s o p h y or of the life according to nature and the requirements of society as society. It is o w i n g to t h i s necessary disproportion t h a t r i g h t cannot be n a t u r a l . The disproportion is necessary for the f o l l o w i n g reason. The h a p piness of e a r l y , noncoercive society w a s u l t i m a t e l y due to the reign of a s a l u t a r y delusion. The members of e a r l y society l i v e d w i t h i n a finite w o r l d or a closed horizon; t h e y trusted in the eternity of the visible universe or in the protection afforded t o them b y " t h e w a l l s o f the w o r l d . " I t w a s t h i s trust w h i c h made them innocent, k i n d , and w i l l i n g to devote themselves to the good of others; for it is fear w h i c h m a k e s men s a v a g e . The trust in the firmness of " t h e w a l l s of the w o r l d " w a s not y e t shaken by reasoning about n a t u r a l catastrophes. Once t h i s trust w a s s h a k e n , men lost t h e i r innocence, t h e y became sava g e ; and thus the need for coercive society arose. Once t h i s


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trust w a s s h a k e n , men h a d no choice but to seek support and consolation in the belief in a c t i v e g o d s ; the free w i l l of the gods should guarantee the firmness of " t h e w a l l s of the w o r l d " w h i c h h a d been seen to l a c k intrinsic or n a t u r a l firmness; the goodness of the gods should be a substitute for the l a c k of intrinsic firmness of " t h e w a l l s of the w o r l d . " The belief in active gods then g r o w s out of fear for our w o r l d and a t t a c h ment to our w o r l d — t h e w o r l d of sun and moon and stars, and the earth covering itself w i t h fresh green every spring, the w o r l d of life as distinguished from the lifeless but eternal e l e ments ( t h e atoms and the v o i d ) out of w h i c h our w o r l d h a s come into being and into w h i c h i t w i l l perish a g a i n . Y e t , h o w e v e r comforting the belief in active gods m a y be, it h a s engendered unspeakable e v i l s . The o n l y remedy lies in breaking t h r o u g h " t h e w a l l s o f the w o r l d " a t w h i c h r e l i g i o n stops and in becoming reconciled to the fact t h a t we l i v e in every respect in an u n w a l l e d c i t y , in an infinite universe in w h i c h n o t h i n g t h a t m a n can love can be eternal. The o n l y remedy l i e s in p h i l o s o p h i z i n g , w h i c h alone affords the most solid pleasure. Y e t p h i l o s o p h y is repulsive to the people because p h i l o s o p h y requires freedom from attachment to " o u r w o r l d . ' ' On the o t h e r hand, the people cannot return to the h a p p y simp l i c i t y of e a r l y society. T h e y must therefore continue the w h o l l y u n n a t u r a l life that is characterized by the co-operation of coercive society and r e l i g i o n . The good life, the life according to n a t u r e , is the retired life of the philosopher w h o l i v e s at the fringes of c i v i l society. The life devoted to c i v i l society and to the service of others is not the life according to n a t u r e . 46

45. In reading Lucretius' poem, one must constantly keep in mind the fact that what strikes the reader first, and what is meant to strike the reader first, is "the sweet'' (or what is comforting to unphilosophic man) and not "the bitter" or "the sad." The poem's opening with the praise of Venus and its ending with the somber description of the plague are only the most obvious and by no means the most important examples of the principle stated in i. 935 ff. and iv. 10 ff. For the understanding of the section dealing with human society (v. 925-1456), one has to consider, in addition, the plan of this

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We must m a k e a distinction between philosophic convent i o n a l i s m and v u l g a r conventionalism. V u l g a r conventionalism is presented most c l e a r l y in " t h e unjust speech" w h i c h Plato intrusted to T h r a s y m a c h u s and to Glaucon and A d e i mantus. According to i t , the greatest good, or the most p l e a s ant t h i n g , is to h a v e more t h a n the others or to rule others. But the c i t y and r i g h t necessarily impose some restraint on the desire for the greatest pleasure; t h e y are incompatible w i t h the greatest pleasure or w i t h w h a t is the greatest good by nature; t h e y are a g a i n s t n a t u r e ; t h e y o r i g i n a t e in convention. Hobbes w o u l d s a y t h a t the c i t y and r i g h t o r i g i n a t e in the desire for life and t h a t the desire for life is at l e a s t as n a t u r a l as the desire for r u l i n g others. To this objection the representative of v u l g a r conventionalism w o u l d r e p l y t h a t mere life is m i s e r y and t h a t a miserable life is not a life w h i c h our nature seeks. The c i t y and r i g h t are a g a i n s t nature because t h e y sacrifice the greater good to the lesser good. It is true t h a t the desire for superiority to others can come into i t s o w n o n l y w i t h i n the c i t y . But t h i s m e r e l y means t h a t the life according to nature consists in c l e v e r l y e x p l o i t i n g the opportunities created by convention or in t a k i n g a d v a n t a g e of the good-natured trust w h i c h the m a n y put in convention. Such e x p l o i t a t i o n requires t h a t one be not hampered by sincere respect for c i t y and r i g h t . The life according to nature requires such perfect inner freedom from the p o w e r of convention as is combined w i t h the appearance of conventional b e h a v i o r . The appearance of justice combined w i t h a c t u a l injustice w i l l l e a d one to the summ i t of happiness. One must indeed be clever to hide one's inparticular section: (a) prepolitical life (925-1027), (V) the inventions belonging to prepolitical life (1028-1104), (c) political society (1105-60), (d) the inventions belonging to political society (1161-1456). Cf. the reference to fire in 1011 with 1091 ff., and the references to facies virisquc as well as to gold in 1111-13 with 1170-71 and 1241 ff. Cf. from this point of view 977-81 with 1211 ff.; cf. also 1156 with 1161 and 1222-25 (see i i . 620-23, and Cicero Be finibus i. 51). See also i. 72-74, 943-45; i i i . 16-17, 59-86; v. 9 1 109, 114-21, 1392-1435; vi. 1-6, 596-607.


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justice successfully w h i l e practicing it on a l a r g e scale; but t h i s m e r e l y means t h a t the life according to nature is the preserve of a s m a l l m i n o r i t y , of the n a t u r a l e l i t e , of those w h o are t r u l y men and not b o m to be s l a v e s . To be more precise, the summit of happiness is the life of the t y r a n t , of the m a n w h o h a s successfully committed the greatest crime by subo r d i n a t i n g t h e c i t y as a w h o l e to his p r i v a t e good and w h o can afford to drop the appearance of justice or l e g a l i t y . V u l g a r conventionalism is the v u l g a r i z e d version of p h i l o sophic conventionalism. Philosophic and v u l g a r conventional ism agree as to t h i s : t h a t by nature everyone seeks o n l y h i s o w n good or t h a t it is according to nature t h a t one does not p a y a n y r e g a r d to other people's good or t h a t the r e g a r d for others arises o n l y out of convention. Yet philosophic convent i o n a l i s m denies t h a t to p a y no regard to others means to desire to h a v e more t h a n others or to be superior to others. Philosophic conventionalism is so far from regarding the desire for s u p e r i o r i t y as n a t u r a l t h a t it regards it as v a i n or opinion-bred. Philosophers, w h o as such have tasted more solid pleasures t h a n those deriving from w e a l t h , power, and the l i k e , could not possibly identify the life according to nature w i t h the life of the t y r a n t . V u l g a r conventionalism o w e s i t s o r i g i n to a corruption of p h i l o s o p h i c conventionalism. It m a k e s sense to trace t h a t corruption to " t h e s o p h i s t s . " The sophists m a y be s a i d to have " p u b l i s h e d " and t h e r e w i t h debased the conventionalist teaching of pre-Socratic p h i l o s o phers. 4 6

" S o p h i s t " is a term w h i c h h a s m a n y m e a n i n g s . A m o n g o t h e r t h i n g s it m a y mean a philosopher, or a philosopher w h o holds unpopular v i e w s , or a man w h o s h o w s h i s l a c k of good taste by t e a c h i n g noble subjects for p a y . At least since P l a t o , " s o p h i s t " is n o r m a l l y used in contradistinction to " p h i l o s o p h e r " and t h e r e w i t h in a derogatory sense. " T h e S o p h i s t s " in 46. Plato Republic 344 - , 348 , 358 3-362 , 364 1-4, 365 6- 2; Laws 890 7-9. a

c

d

e

c

a

c

d

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the h i s t o r i c a l sense are certain fifth-century Greeks w h o are presented by Plato and other philosophers as sophists in the precise sense, i . e . , as nonphilosophers of a certain t y p e . The sophist in the precise sense is a teacher of sham w i s d o m . Sham w i s d o m is not identical w i t h untrue doctrine. O t h e r w i s e Plato w o u l d h a v e been a sophist in the e y e s of A r i s t o t l e , and vice versa. An erring philosopher is something e n t i r e l y different from a sophist. N o t h i n g prevents a sophist from o c c a s i o n a l l y and perhaps h a b i t u a l l y t e a c h i n g the truth. W h a t is characteristic of the sophist is unconcern w i t h the t r u t h , i . e . , w i t h the truth about the w h o l e . The sophist, in contradistinction to the philosopher, is not set in motion and kept in motion by the sting of the awareness of the fundamental difference bet w e e n conviction or belief and genuine i n s i g h t . But t h i s is c l e a r l y too general, for unconcern w i t h the truth about t h e w h o l e is not a preserve of the sophist. The sophist is a man w h o is unconcerned w i t h the t r u t h , or does not love w i s d o m , a l t h o u g h he k n o w s better t h a n most other men t h a t w i s d o m or science is the h i g h e s t excellence of man. Being a w a r e of the unique character of w i s d o m , he k n o w s t h a t the honor deriving from w i s d o m is the h i g h e s t honor. He is concerned w i t h w i s dom, not for i t s o w n s a k e , not because he h a t e s the l i e in the soul more than a n y t h i n g else, but for the s a k e of the honor or the prestige t h a t attends w i s d o m . He l i v e s or acts on the principle t h a t prestige or superiority to others or h a v i n g more than others is the h i g h e s t good. He acts on the principle of v u l g a r conventionalism. Since he accepts the t e a c h i n g of p h i l osophic conventionalism and t h u s is more a r t i c u l a t e t h a n the m a n y w h o act on the same principle on w h i c h he a c t s , he can be regarded as the most fitting representative of v u l g a r convent i o n a l i s m . There arises, however, t h i s difficulty. The sophist's h i g h e s t good is the prestige deriving from w i s d o m . To achieve h i s h i g h e s t good, h e must d i s p l a y h i s w i s d o m . D i s p l a y i n g h i s w i s d o m means t e a c h i n g the v i e w t h a t the life according to nature or the life of the w i s e m a n consists in combining a c t u a l


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injustice w i t h the appearance of justice. Yet a d m i t t i n g t h a t one i s , in fact, unjust is incompatible w i t h successfully preserving the appearance of justice. It is incompatible w i t h w i s dom, and it therefore m a k e s impossible the honor deriving from w i s d o m . Sooner or l a t e r the sophist is therefore forced to conceal his w i s d o m or to b o w to v i e w s w h i c h he regards as m e r e l y conventional. He must become resigned to deriving h i s prestige from p r o p a g a t i n g more or less respectable v i e w s . It is for t h i s reason t h a t one cannot speak of the t e a c h i n g , i . e . , of the e x p l i c i t t e a c h i n g , of the sophists. As regards the most famous sophist, Protagoras, Plato i m putes to h i m a m y t h w h i c h adumbrates the conventionalist t h e s i s . The m y t h of the Protagoras is based on the distinction between n a t u r e , art, and convention. Nature is represented by the subterraneous w o r k of certain gods and by the w o r k of Epimetheus. Epimetheus, the being in w h o m t h o u g h t f o l l o w s production, represents nature in the sense of m a t e r i a l i s m , a c cording to w h i c h t h o u g h t comes l a t e r than t h o u g h t l e s s bodies and their t h o u g h t l e s s motions. The subterraneous w o r k of the gods i s w o r k w i t h o u t l i g h t , w i t h o u t understanding, and h a s therefore fundamentally the same m e a n i n g as the w o r k of Epimetheus. Art is represented by Prometheus, by Prometheus' theft, by h i s rebellion a g a i n s t the w i l l of the gods above. Convention is represented by Zeus's gift of justice to " a l l " : t h a t " g i f t " becomes effective o n l y t h r o u g h the punitive a c t i v i t y of c i v i l society, and i t s requirements are perfectly fulfilled by the mere semblance of j u s t i c e . 47

b

b

c

a

c

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d

47. Protagoras 322 6-8, 323 2- 2, 324 3- 5, 325"6- 7, 327 l-2. There seems to be a contradiction between the myth of the Protagoras and the Theatetus, where the conventionalist thesis is presented as an improved version of Protagoras' thesis, which in its denials of ordinarily held views goes much beyond conventionalism (167 2-7, 1 7 2 l 6 , 177 6- 6). But, as the context shows, what Protagoras says in the myth of the Protagoras is likewise an improved version of his real thesis. In the Protagoras the improvement is effected under the pressure of the situation (the presence of a prospective pupil) by Protagoras himself, whereas in the Theatetus it is effected on his behalf by Socrates. c

b

c

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I conclude t h i s chapter w i t h a brief r e m a r k about preSocratic n a t u r a l r i g h t . I s h a l l not speak of those types of natural r i g h t doctrine w h i c h w e r e fully developed by Socrates and h i s followers. I s h a l l l i m i t m y s e l f to a sketch of t h a t t y p e w h i c h w a s rejected b y the c l a s s i c s : e g a l i t a r i a n n a t u r a l r i g h t . The doubt of the n a t u r a l character of both s l a v e r y and the division of t h e human race into distinct p o l i t i c a l or ethnic groups finds i t s most simple expression in the thesis t h a t a l l men are by nature free and e q u a l . N a t u r a l freedom and n a t u r a l e q u a l i t y are inseparable from each other. If a l l men are by nature free, no one is by nature the superior of a n y other, and hence by nature a l l men are equal to e a c h other. If a l l men are by nature free and e q u a l , it is a g a i n s t nature to treat a n y m a n as unfree or u n e q u a l ; the preservation or restoration of n a t u r a l freedom or e q u a l i t y is required by n a t u r a l r i g h t . Thus the c i t y appears to be a g a i n s t n a t u r a l r i g h t , for the c i t y stands or falls by i n e q u a l i t y or subordination and by the restriction of freedom. The effective denial of n a t u r a l freedom and e q u a l i t y by the c i t y must be traced to v i o l e n c e and u l t i m a t e l y to w r o n g opinion or the corruption of nature. T h i s means t h a t n a t u r a l freedom and e q u a l i t y w i l l be t h o u g h t to h a v e been fully effective at the beginning, w h e n nature w a s not y e t corrupted by opinion. The doctrine of n a t u r a l freedom and e q u a l i t y t h u s a l l i e s itself w i t h the doctrine of a golden a g e . Y e t one m a y assume t h a t o r i g i n a l innocence is not i r r e t r i e v a b l y lost and t h a t , in spite of the n a t u r a l character of freedom and e q u a l i t y , c i v i l society is indispensable. In t h a t case one must l o o k for a w a y in w h i c h c i v i l society can be brought into some degree of h a r m o n y w i t h n a t u r a l freedom and e q u a l i t y . The o n l y w a y i n w h i c h t h i s can be done is to assume t h a t c i v i l society, to the extent t o w h i c h i t i s i n agreement w i t h n a t u r a l r i g h t , i s based on the consent or, more p r e c i s e l y , on the contract of the free and equal individuals.


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It is doubtful w h e t h e r the doctrines of n a t u r a l freedom and e q u a l i t y , as w e l l as of the social compact, w e r e o r i g i n a l l y meant as p o l i t i c a l theses and not r a t h e r as theoretical theses setting forth the questionable character of c i v i l society as such. As long as nature w a s regarded as the standard, the cont r a c t u a l i s t doctrine, regardless of w h e t h e r it w a s based on the e g a l i t a r i a n or the n o n e g a l i t a r i a n premise, necessarily i m p l i e d a depreciation of c i v i l society, because it i m p l i e d t h a t c i v i l society is not n a t u r a l but c o n v e n t i o n a l . T h i s must be borne in mind if one w a n t s to understand the specific character and the tremendous p o l i t i c a l effect of the contractualist doctrines of the seventeenth and e i g h t e e n t h centuries. For in the modern era the notion t h a t nature is the standard w a s abandoned, and t h e r e w i t h the s t i g m a on w h a t e v e r is conventional or cont r a c t u a l w a s t a k e n a w a y . As for premodern t i m e s , it is safe to assume t h a t a l l contractualist doctrines i m p l i e d the depreciation of w h a t e v e r o w e d i t s o r i g i n to contract. 48

In a passage of P l a t o ' s Crito, Socrates is presented as deriving h i s d u t y of obedience to the c i t y of A t h e n s and her l a w s from a t a c i t contract. To understand t h i s p a s s a g e , one h a s to compare it w i t h i t s p a r a l l e l in the Republic. In the Republic the philosop h e r ' s d u t y of obedience to the c i t y is not derived from a n y contract. The reason is obvious. The c i t y of the Republic is the best c i t y , the c i t y according to nature. But the c i t y of A t h e n s , t h a t democracy, w a s from P l a t o ' s point of v i e w a most imperfect c i t y . Only the a l l e g i a n c e to an inferior c o m m u n i t y can be d e r i v a t i v e from contract, for an honest m a n keeps h i s promises to everyone regardless of the w o r t h of h i m to w h o m he made the promise. 4 9

48. Aristotle Politics 1280 10-13; Xenophon Memorabilia iv. 4. 13-14 (Cf. Resp. Laced. 8. 5 ) . b

49. Crito 50 4-52 5 (cf. 52 5-6); Republic 519 8-520 1. c

e

e

c

e

IV CLASSIC NATURAL RIGHT

S

OCRATES is s a i d to h a v e been the first w h o c a l l e d p h i l o s o p h y down from heaven and forced it to m a k e i n q u i r i e s

about life and manners and good a n d bad t h i n g s . In other w o r d s , he is said to h a v e been the founder of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o 1

p h y . T o the extent t o w h i c h t h i s i s true, h e w a s the o r i g i n a tor of the w h o l e t r a d i t i o n of n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g s . The part i c u l a r n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine w h i c h w a s o r i g i n a t e d b y Socr a t e s and developed by P l a t o , A r i s t o t l e , the S t o i c s , and the Christian t h i n k e r s ( e s p e c i a l l y T h o m a s A q u i n a s ) m a y b e c a l l e d the classic n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine. It must be d i s t i n g u i s h e d from the modern n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine t h a t emerged in the seventeenth century. The full understanding of the c l a s s i c n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine w o u l d require a full understanding of the c h a n g e in t h o u g h t t h a t w a s effected by Socrates. Such an understanding is not at our disposal. From a cursory r e a d i n g of the pertinent texts w h i c h at first glance seem to supply the most a u t h e n t i c inform a t i o n , the modern reader almost i n e v i t a b l y arrives at the foll o w i n g v i e w : Socrates turned a w a y from the s t u d y of nature and l i m i t e d h i s i n v e s t i g a t i o n s to h u m a n t h i n g s . Being unconcerned w i t h n a t u r e , he refused to l o o k at h u m a n t h i n g s in the l i g h t of the subversive distinction between nature and l a w ( c o n v e n t i o n ) . H e r a t h e r identified l a w w i t h nature. H e cer1. Cicero Tusc. Disp. v. 10; Hobbes, Di cive, Preface, near the beginning. As for the alleged Pythagorean origins of political philosophy, consider Plato Republic 600 9- 5 as well as Cicero Tusc. Disp. v. 8-10 and Republic i. 16. a

120

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t a i n l y identified the just w i t h the l e g a l . He t h u s restored the ancestral m o r a l i t y , a l t h o u g h in the element of reflection. T h i s v i e w m i s t a k e s Socrates' a m b i g u o u s starting point or the a m biguous result of h i s i n q u i r i e s for the substance of h i s t h o u g h t . To mention for the moment o n l y one point, the distinction between nature and l a w ( c o n v e n t i o n ) retains its full significance for Socrates and for classic n a t u r a l r i g h t in general. The c l a s sics presuppose the v a l i d i t y of t h a t distinction w h e n demanding t h a t t h e l a w should follow the order established b y nature, or w h e n s p e a k i n g of the co-operation between nature and l a w . T h e y oppose to the denial of n a t u r a l r i g h t and n a t u r a l m o r a l i t y the distinction between n a t u r a l r i g h t and l e g a l r i g h t a s w e l l a s the distinction between n a t u r a l and ( m e r e l y ) h u m a n m o r a l i t y . T h e y preserve the same distinction by d i s t i n g u i s h i n g between genuine virtue and p o l i t i c a l or v u l g a r v i r t u e . The characteristic institutions of P l a t o ' s best p o l i t y are " i n a c cordance w i t h n a t u r e , " and t h e y are " a g a i n s t the h a b i t s o r c u s t o m , " w h e r e a s the opposite i n s t i t u t i o n s , w h i c h are cust o m a r y p r a c t i c a l l y e v e r y w h e r e , are " a g a i n s t n a t u r e . " A r i s totle could not e x p l a i n w h a t money is except by d i s t i n g u i s h i n g between n a t u r a l w e a l t h and conventional w e a l t h . H e could not e x p l a i n w h a t slavery is except by d i s t i n g u i s h i n g between n a t u r a l s l a v e r y and l e g a l s l a v e r y . 2

3

Let us then see w h a t is i m p l i e d by Socrates' turning to the s t u d y of h u m a n t h i n g s . His study of human t h i n g s consisted i n r a i s i n g t h e question " W h a t i s ? " i n regard t o those t h i n g s — for instance, the question " W h a t is c o u r a g e ? " or " W h a t is the c i t y ? " But i t w a s not l i m i t e d t o r a i s i n g the question " W h a t i s ? " in r e g a r d to specific human t h i n g s , such as the v a r i o u s 2. Plato Apology of Socrates 19 8- 7; Xenophon Memorabilia i. 1. 11-16; iv. 3. 14; 4. 12 ff., 7, 8. 4; Aristotle Metaphysics 987 l-2; De part. anim. 642 28-30; Cicero Republic i. 15-16. 3. Plato Republic 456 12- 2, 452 7, "6-7, 484 7- 3, 500 4-8, 501 l- 2; Laws 794 4795 5; Xenophon Oeconomicus 7.16 and Hiero 3. 9; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1133 2931 and 1134 18-1135 5; Politics 1255 l- 15, 1257 10 ff. d

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v i r t u e s . Socrates w a s forced to r a i s e the question as to w h a t the human t h i n g s as such are, or w h a t the ratio rerum humanarum i s . But it is impossible to grasp the distinctive character of h u m a n t h i n g s as such w i t h o u t g r a s p i n g the e s s e n t i a l difference between h u m a n t h i n g s a n d the t h i n g s w h i c h are not human, i . e . , the divine or n a t u r a l t h i n g s . T h i s , in turn, presupposes some understanding of the divine or n a t u r a l t h i n g s as such. Socrates' study of the h u m a n t h i n g s w a s then based o n the comprehensive study o f " a l l t h i n g s . " L i k e every other philosopher, he identified w i s d o m , or the g o a l of p h i l o s o p h y , w i t h the science of a l l the b e i n g s : he never ceased considering " w h a t each o f the beings i s . " 4

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Contrary to appearances, Socrates' turn to the study of human t h i n g s w a s based, not upon disregard of the divine or n a t u r a l t h i n g s , but upon a n e w approach to the understanding of a l l t h i n g s . T h a t approach w a s indeed of such a character t h a t it permitted, and favored, the s t u d y of h u m a n t h i n g s as such, i . e . , of the h u m a n t h i n g s in so far as t h e y are not reducible to the divine or n a t u r a l t h i n g s . Socrates deviated from h i s predecessors by identifying the science of the w h o l e , or of e v e r y t h i n g t h a t i s , w i t h the understanding of " w h a t each of the beings i s . " For " t o b e " m e a n s " t o b e s o m e t h i n g " and hence to be different from t h i n g s w h i c h are " s o m e t h i n g e l s e " ; " t o b e " means therefore " t o be a p a r t . " Hence the w h o l e cannot " b e " in the same sense in w h i c h e v e r y t h i n g t h a t is " s o m e t h i n g " " i s " ; the w h o l e must b e " b e y o n d b e i n g . " And y e t the w h o l e is the t o t a l i t y of t h e p a r t s . To understand the w h o l e then means to understand a l l the parts of the w h o l e or the a r t i c u l a t i o n of the w h o l e . If " t o b e " is " t o be s o m e t h i n g , " the being of a t h i n g , or the nature of a t h i n g , is p r i m a r i l y i t s 4. Compare Cicero Republic ii. 52, where the understanding of the ratio rerum civilium, as distinguished from the setting-up of a model for political action, is said to be the purpose of Plato's Republic. 5. Xenophon Memorabilia i. 1. 16; iv. 6. 1, 7; 7. 3-5-


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What, its " s h a p e " or "form" or "character," as distinguished in p a r t i c u l a r from t h a t out of w h i c h it h a s come into being. The t h i n g itself, the completed t h i n g , cannot be understood as a product of the process l e a d i n g up to i t , but, on the cont r a r y , the process cannot be understood except in the l i g h t of the completed t h i n g or of the end of the process. The W h a t i s , as such, t h e character of a class of t h i n g s or of a " t r i b e " of things—of t h i n g s w h i c h by nature belong together or form a n a t u r a l g r o u p . The w h o l e h a s a n a t u r a l a r t i c u l a t i o n . To understand the w h o l e , therefore, means no longer p r i m a r i l y to discover the roots out of w h i c h the completed w h o l e , the a r t i c u l a t e d w h o l e , the w h o l e consisting of distinct groups of t h i n g s , the i n t e l l i g i b l e w h o l e , the cosmos, has g r o w n , or to discover the cause w h i c h h a s transformed the chaos into a cosmos, or to perceive the u n i t y w h i c h is hidden behind the v a r i e t y of t h i n g s or appearances, but to understand the u n i t y t h a t is revealed in the manifest a r t i c u l a t i o n of the completed w h o l e . T h i s v i e w supplies the basis for the distinction between the v a r i o u s sciences: the distinction between the v a r i o u s sciences corresponds to the n a t u r a l a r t i c u l a t i o n of the w h o l e . T h i s v i e w m a k e s possible, and it favors in p a r t i c u l a r , the study of the h u m a n t h i n g s as such. Socrates seems to h a v e regarded the change w h i c h he brought about as a return to " s o b r i e t y " and " m o d e r a t i o n " from the " m a d n e s s " of h i s predecessors. In contradistinction to his predecessors, he did not separate w i s d o m from moderation. In present-day parlance one can describe the change in question as a return to "common s e n s e " or to " t h e w o r l d of common s e n s e . " T h a t t o w h i c h the question " W h a t i s ? " points is the tides of a t h i n g , the shape or form or character or " i d e a " of a t h i n g . It is no accident t h a t the term eidos signifies primarily that which is visible to all without any particular effort or w h a t one m i g h t c a l l the " s u r f a c e " of the t h i n g s . Socrates started not from w h a t is first in itself or first by nature

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but from w h a t is first for us, from w h a t comes to s i g h t first, from the phenomena. But the being of t h i n g s , t h e i r W h a t , comes first to s i g h t , not in w h a t we see of t h e m , but in w h a t is said about them or in opinions about t h e m . A c c o r d i n g l y , Socrates started in h i s understanding of the natures of t h i n g s from the opinions about their n a t u r e s . For every opinion is based on some a w a r e n e s s , on some perception w i t h the m i n d ' s e y e , of something. Socrates i m p l i e d t h a t disregarding the opinions about the natures of t h i n g s w o u l d amount to abandoning the most important access to r e a l i t y w h i c h we h a v e , or the most important v e s t i g e s of the t r u t h w h i c h are w i t h i n our reach. He i m p l i e d t h a t " t h e u n i v e r s a l d o u b t " of a l l opinions w o u l d l e a d u s , not into the heart of the t r u t h , but into a v o i d . Philosophy consists, therefore, in the ascent from opinions to k n o w l e d g e or to the t r u t h , in an ascent t h a t m a y be said to be guided by opinions. It is this ascent w h i c h Socrates h a d prim a r i l y i n mind w h e n h e called p h i l o s o p h y " d i a l e c t i c s . " Dialectics is the art of conversation or of friendly dispute. The friendly dispute w h i c h leads t o w a r d the truth is made possible or necessary by the fact t h a t opinions about w h a t t h i n g s are, or w h a t some v e r y important groups of t h i n g s are, contradict one another. R e c o g n i z i n g the contradiction, one is forced to go beyond opinions t o w a r d the consistent v i e w of the nature of the t h i n g concerned. T h a t consistent v i e w m a k e s v i s i b l e the r e l a t i v e truth of the contradictory opinions; the consistent v i e w proves to be the comprehensive or t o t a l v i e w . The opinions are thus seen to be fragments of the truth, soiled fragments of the pure t r u t h . In other w o r d s , the opinions prove to be solicited by the self-subsisting t r u t h , and the ascent to the truth proves to be guided by the self-subsistent truth w h i c h a l l men a l w a y s divine. On t h i s basis it becomes possible to understand w h y the v a r i e t y of opinions about r i g h t or justice not o n l y is comp a t i b l e w i t h the existence of n a t u r a l r i g h t or the idea of j u s -


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tice but is required by i t . The v a r i e t y of notions of justice could be said to refute the contention t h a t there is n a t u r a l r i g h t , if the existence of n a t u r a l r i g h t required actual consent of a l l men in r e g a r d to the principles of r i g h t . But we learn from Socrates, or from P l a t o , t h a t w h a t is required is not more t h a n p o t e n t i a l consent. P l a t o , as it w e r e , s a y s : T a k e a n y opinion about r i g h t , h o w e v e r fantastic o r " p r i m i t i v e , " t h a t y o u p l e a s e ; y o u can be certain prior to h a v i n g i n v e s t i g a t e d it t h a t it points beyond itself, t h a t the people w h o cherish the opinion in question contradict t h a t v e r y opinion somehow and thus are forced to go beyond it in the direction of the one true v i e w of j u s t i c e , provided t h a t a philosopher arises a m o n g them. Let us t r y to express this in more general terms. A l l k n o w l edge, h o w e v e r l i m i t e d or " s c i e n t i f i c , " presupposes a horizon, a comprehensive v i e w w i t h i n w h i c h k n o w l e d g e is possible. A l l understanding presupposes a fundamental awareness of the w h o l e : prior to a n y perception of p a r t i c u l a r t h i n g s , the h u m a n soul must h a v e h a d a vision of the i d e a s , a vision of the a r t i c u l a t e d w h o l e . H o w e v e r much the comprehensive visions w h i c h a n i m a t e the v a r i o u s societies m a y differ, t h e y a l l are visions of the same—of t h e w h o l e . Therefore, t h e y do not merely differ from, but contradict, one another. T h i s v e r y fact forces man to realize t h a t e a c h of those v i s i o n s , t a k e n by itself, is m e r e l y an opinion about the w h o l e or an i n a d e q u a t e a r t i c u l a t i o n of the fundamental a w a r e n e s s of the w h o l e and t h u s points beyond itself t o w a r d an adequate a r t i c u l a t i o n . There is no g u a r a n t y t h a t the quest for adequate a r t i c u l a t i o n w i l l ever lead beyond an understanding of the fundamental a l t e r n a t i v e s or t h a t p h i l o s o p h y w i l l ever l e g i t i m a t e l y go beyond the stage of discussion or d i s p u t a t i o n and w i l l ever reach the stage of decision. The unfinishable character of the quest for adequate a r t i c u l a tion of the w h o l e does not e n t i t l e one, h o w e v e r , to l i m i t p h i l o s o p h y to t h e understanding of a part, h o w e v e r important.

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For the m e a n i n g of a part depends on the meaning of the w h o l e . In p a r t i c u l a r , such interpretation of a part as is based on fundamental experiences alone, w i t h o u t recourse to h y p o thetical assumptions about the w h o l e , is u l t i m a t e l y not superior to other interpretations of t h a t part w h i c h are f r a n k l y based on such h y p o t h e t i c a l assumptions. Conventionalism disregards the understanding embodied in opinion and appeals from opinion to nature. For t h i s reason, to s a y n o t h i n g of others, Socrates and h i s successors were forced to prove the existence of n a t u r a l r i g h t on the ground chosen by conventionalism. T h e y h a d to prove it by appeal to the " f a c t s " a s distinguished from the " s p e e c h e s . " A s w i l l appear presently, t h i s s e e m i n g l y more direct appeal to being merely confirms the fundamental Socratic thesis. 6

The basic premise of conventionalism appeared to be the identification of the good w i t h the p l e a s a n t . A c c o r d i n g l y , the basic part of the classic n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g is the critique of hedonism. The thesis of the classics is t h a t the good is essent i a l l y different from the pleasant, t h a t the good is more fundam e n t a l than the pleasant. The most common pleasures are connected w i t h t h e satisfaction of w a n t s ; the w a n t s precede the pleasures; the w a n t s supply, a s i t w e r e , the channels w i t h i n w h i c h pleasure can move; t h e y determine w h a t can possibly be pleasant. The p r i m a r y fact is not pleasure, or the desire for pleasure, but r a t h e r the w a n t s and t h e s t r i v i n g for their s a t i s faction. It is the v a r i e t y of w a n t s t h a t accounts for the v a r i e t y of pleasures; the difference of k i n d s of pleasures cannot be understood in terms of pleasure but o n l y by reference to the w a n t s w h i c h m a k e possible the various k i n d s of pleasures. The different k i n d s of w a n t s are not a bundle of u r g e s ; there is a n a t u r a l order of the w a n t s . Different k i n d s of beings seek or enjoy different k i n d s of pleasure: the pleasures of an ass differ from the pleasures of a h u m a n being. The order of the w a n t s of a being points back to the n a t u r a l c o n s t i t u t i o n , to the W h a t , of the 6. See Vlnto Republic 358 3, 367 2-5, «2, 369 5-6, 9-10, 370 8- l. e

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being concerned; it is t h a t constitution w h i c h determines the order, the h i e r a r c h y , of the v a r i o u s w a n t s or of the v a r i o u s i n c l i n a t i o n s of a being. To the specific constitution there corresponds a specific operation, a specific w o r k . A being is good, i t i s " i n o r d e r , " i f i t does i t s proper w o r k w e l l . Hence man w i l l be good if he does w e l l the proper w o r k of m a n , the w o r k corresponding to the nature of man and required by i t . To determine w h a t is by nature good for man or the n a t u r a l h u m a n good, one must determine w h a t the nature of m a n , or m a n ' s n a t u r a l constitution, i s . It is the h i e r a r c h i c order of m a n ' s n a t u r a l constitution w h i c h supplies the basis for n a t u r a l r i g h t as the classics understood it. In one w a y or another everyone d i s t i n g u i s h e s between the body a n d the soul; and everyone can be forced to a d m i t t h a t he cannot, w i t h o u t contradicting h i m self, deny t h a t the soul stands h i g h e r t h a n the body. T h a t w h i c h d i s t i n g u i s h e s the h u m a n soul from the souls of the brutes, t h a t w h i c h distinguishes man from the brutes, is speech or reason or understanding. Therefore, the proper w o r k of man consists in l i v i n g t h o u g h t f u l l y , in understanding, and in thoughtful action. The good life is the life t h a t is in accordance w i t h the n a t u r a l order of m a n ' s being, the life t h a t flows from a well-ordered or h e a l t h y soul. The good life s i m p l y , is the life in w h i c h the requirements of m a n ' s n a t u r a l i n c l i n ations are fulfilled in the proper order to the h i g h e s t possible degree, the life of a man w h o is a w a k e to the h i g h e s t possible degree, the life of a man in w h o s e soul n o t h i n g l i e s w a s t e . The good life is the perfection of m a n ' s n a t u r e . It is the life accordi n g to n a t u r e . One m a y therefore c a l l the rules circumscribing the general character of the good life " t h e n a t u r a l l a w . " The life according to nature is the life of h u m a n excellence or v i r tue, the life of a " h i g h - c l a s s p e r s o n , " and not the life of p l e a s ure as p l e a s u r e . 7

7. Plato Gorgias 499 6-500 3; Republic 369 10fF.; compare Republic 352 6-353 6, 433 l- 4, 441 12 ff., and 444 13-445 4 with Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1098 8-17; Cicero De finibus i i . 33-34, 40; iv. 16, 25, 34, 37; v. 26; Laws i. 17, 22, 25, 27, 45, 58-62. e

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The thesis t h a t the life according to nature is the life of human excellence can be defended on hedonistic grounds. Y e t the classics protested a g a i n s t t h i s manner of understanding the good life. For, from the point of v i e w of hedonism, n o b i l i t y of character is good because it is conducive to a life of pleasure or even indispensable for i t : n o b i l i t y of character is the handm a i d of pleasure; it is not good for i t s o w n s a k e . According to the classics, t h i s interpretation distorts the phenomena as t h e y are k n o w n from experience to e v e r y unbiased and competent, i . e . , not m o r a l l y obtuse, man. W e admire excellence w i t h o u t a n y regard to our pleasures or to our benefits. No one understands by a good man or man of excellence a man w h o l e a d s a pleasant life. We distinguish between better and worse men. The difference between them is indeed reflected in the difference in the k i n d s of pleasure w h i c h t h e y prefer. But one cannot understand t h i s difference in the level of pleasures in terms of pleasure; for t h a t level is determined not by pleasure but by the r a n k of human beings. We k n o w t h a t it i s a v u l g a r error to identify the m a n of excellence w i t h one's benefactor. We admire, for e x a m p l e , a strategic g e n i u s at the head of the v i c torious a r m y of our enemies. There are t h i n g s w h i c h are adm i r a b l e , or noble, by nature, i n t r i n s i c a l l y . It is characteristic of a l l or most of them that t h e y contain no reference to one's selfish interests or t h a t t h e y i m p l y a freedom from c a l c u l a t i o n . The v a r i o u s human t h i n g s w h i c h are by nature noble or adm i r a b l e are e s s e n t i a l l y the parts of h u m a n n o b i l i t y in its completion, o r are related t o i t ; t h e y a l l point t o w a r d the w e l l ordered soul, i n c o m p a r a b l y the most admirable human phenomenon . The phenomenon of a d m i r a t i o n of h u m a n excellence cannot be explained on hedonistic or u t i l i t a r i a n grounds, e x cept by means of ad hoc hypotheses. These h y p o t h e s e s l e a d to the assertion t h a t a l l a d m i r a t i o n i s , at best, a k i n d of telescoped c a l c u l a t i o n of benefits for ourselves. T h e y are the outcome of a m a t e r i a l i s t i c or c r y p t o - m a t e r i a l i s t i c v i e w , w h i c h f


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forces i t s holders to understand the h i g h e r as n o t h i n g but the effect of the l o w e r , or w h i c h prevents them from considering the p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t there are phenomena w h i c h are s i m p l y irreducible to their conditions, t h a t there are phenomena t h a t form a class by themselves. The hypotheses in question are not conceived in the spirit of an empirical science of m a n . M a n is by nature a social being. He is so constituted t h a t he cannot l i v e , o r l i v e w e l l , except b y l i v i n g w i t h others. Since it is reason or speech t h a t distinguishes h i m from the other a n i m a l s , and speech is communication, man is social in a more r a d i c a l sense t h a n a n y other social a n i m a l : h u m a n i t y itself is s o c i a l i t y . M a n refers himself to others, or r a t h e r he is referred to o t h e r s , in every human act, regardless of w h e t h e r t h a t act is " s o c i a l " or " a n t i s o c i a l . " His s o c i a l i t y does not proceed, then, from a c a l c u l a t i o n of the pleasures w h i c h he e x pects from association, but he derives pleasure from association because he is by nature social. L o v e , affection, friendship, p i t y , are as n a t u r a l to h i m as concern w i t h h i s o w n good and c a l c u l a t i o n of w h a t is conducive to h i s o w n good. It is m a n ' s n a t u r a l s o c i a l i t y t h a t is the basis of n a t u r a l r i g h t in the narr o w or strict sense of r i g h t . Because man is by nature social, the perfection of h i s nature includes the social virtue par excellence, j u s t i c e ; justice and r i g h t are n a t u r a l . A l l members of the same species are a k i n to one another. T h i s n a t u r a l k i n s h i p is deepened and transfigured in the case of man as a consequence of h i s r a d i c a l s o c i a l i t y . In the case of man the i n d i v i d u a l ' s concern w i t h procreation is only a part of h i s concern w i t h the preservation of the species. There is no relation of man to man in w h i c h man is absolutely free to act as he pleases or as it suits h i m . And a l l men are s o m e h o w a w a r e of t h i s fact. Every i d e o l o g y is an attempt to justify before one's self or 8

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others such courses of action as are s o m e h o w felt to be in need of justification, i . e . , as are not o b v i o u s l y r i g h t . W h y did the A t h e n i a n s believe in their a u t o c h t h o n y , except because t h e y k n e w t h a t robbing others of their l a n d is not just and because t h e y felt t h a t a self-respecting society cannot become reconciled to the notion t h a t i t s foundation w a s l a i d in crime? W h y do the Hindus believe in their karma doctrine if not be9

cause t h e y k n o w t h a t o t h e r w i s e their caste system w o u l d be indefensible? By virtue of h i s r a t i o n a l i t y , man h a s a l a t i t u d e of a l t e r n a t i v e s such as no other e a r t h l y being h a s . The sense of this l a t i t u d e , of t h i s freedom, is accompanied by a sense t h a t the full and unrestrained exercise of t h a t freedom is not r i g h t . M a n ' s freedom is accompanied by a sacred a w e , by a k i n d of d i v i n a t i o n t h a t not e v e r y t h i n g is p e r m i t t e d . We m a y call t h i s awe-inspired fear " m a n ' s natural conscience." Restraint is therefore as n a t u r a l or as p r i m e v a l as freedom. As long as man h a s not c u l t i v a t e d h i s reason properly, he w i l l have a l l sorts of fantastic notions as to the l i m i t s set to h i s freedom; he w i l l elaborate absurd taboos. But w h a t prompts the savages in their savage doings is not s a v a g e r y but the d i v i n a t i o n of r i g h t . M a n cannot reach h i s perfection except in society or, more precisely, in c i v i l society. C i v i l society, or the c i t y as the classics conceived of i t , is a closed society and i s , in a d d i t i o n , w h a t t o d a y w o u l d be called a " s m a l l s o c i e t y . " A c i t y , one m a y s a y , is a c o m m u n i t y in w h i c h everyone k n o w s , not indeed every other member, but at l e a s t an acquaintance of every other member. A society meant to m a k e m a n ' s perfection pos10

9. Plato Republic 369 5-370 2; Symposium 207 6- l; Laws 776 5-778 6; Aristotle Politics 1253 7-18, 1278 18-25; Nicomachean Ethics 1161 l-8 (cf. Plato Republic 395 5) and 1170 10-14; Rhetoric 1 3 7 3 6 - 9 ; Isocrates Panegyricus 23-24; Cicero Republic i. 1, 3841; i i i . 1-3, 2 5 ; iv. 3; Laws i. 30, 33-35, 43; De finibus ii. 45, 78, 109-10; iii. 62-71; iv. 17-18; Grotius De jure belli, Prolegomena, §§ 6-8. b

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10. Cicero Republic v. 6; Laws i. 24, 40; De finibus iv. 18.

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sible must be kept together by m u t u a l trust, and trust presupposes acquaintance. W i t h o u t such trust, the classics t h o u g h t , there cannot be freedom; the a l t e r n a t i v e to the c i t y , or a federation of c i t i e s , w a s the d e s p o t i c a l l y ruled empire ( h e a d e d , if possible, by a deified r u l e r ) or a condition approaching a n a r c h y . A c i t y is a c o m m u n i t y commensurate w i t h m a n ' s n a t u r a l powers of firsthand or direct k n o w l e d g e . It is a c o m m u n i t y w h i c h can be t a k e n in in one v i e w , or in w h i c h a mature man can find h i s bearings t h r o u g h h i s o w n observation, w i t h o u t h a v i n g to r e l y h a b i t u a l l y on indirect information in m a t t e r s of v i t a l importance. For direct k n o w l e d g e of men can safely be replaced by indirect k n o w l e d g e o n l y so far as the i n d i v i d u a l s w h o m a k e u p the p o l i t i c a l m u l t i t u d e are u n i form or " m a s s - m e n . " Only a society s m a l l enough to permit m u t u a l trust is small enough to permit m u t u a l r e s p o n s i b i l i t y or supervision—the supervision of actions or manners w h i c h is indispensable for a society concerned w i t h the perfection of its members; in a v e r y l a r g e c i t y , in " B a b y l o n , " everyone can l i v e more or less as he l i s t s . J u s t as m a n ' s n a t u r a l p o w e r of firsthand k n o w l e d g e , so h i s p o w e r of love or of active concern, is by nature l i m i t e d ; the l i m i t s of the c i t y coincide w i t h t h e range of m a n ' s active concern for nonanonymous i n d i v i d u a l s . Furthermore, p o l i t i c a l freedom, and e s p e c i a l l y t h a t p o l i t i c a l freedom t h a t justifies itself by the pursuit of human excellence, is not a gift of h e a v e n ; it becomes a c t u a l o n l y t h r o u g h the efforts of m a n y generations, and i t s preservation a l w a y s requires the h i g h e s t degree of v i g i l a n c e . The p r o b a b i l i t y t h a t a l l h u m a n societies should be capable of genuine freedom at the same time is e x c e e d i n g l y s m a l l . For a l l precious things are exceedi n g l y rare. An open or all-comprehensive society w o u l d consist of m a n y societies w h i c h are on v a s t l y different levels of p o l i t i c a l m a t u r i t y , and the chances are o v e r w h e l m i n g t h a t the l o w e r societies w o u l d drag d o w n the h i g h e r ones. An open or all-comprehensive society w i l l exist on a l o w e r level of hu-

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m a n i t y than a closed society, w h i c h , t h r o u g h generations, h a s made a supreme effort t o w a r d h u m a n perfection. The prospects for the existence of a good society are therefore g r e a t e r if there is a m u l t i t u d e of independent societies t h a n if there is o n l y one independent society. If the society in w h i c h man can reach the perfection of h i s nature is n e c e s s a r i l y a closed society, the d i stinction of the h u m a n race into a number of independent groups is according to nature. T h i s distinction is not n a t u r a l in the sense t h a t the members of one c i v i l society are by nature different from the members of others. C i t i e s do not g r o w l i k e p l a n t s . T h e y are not s i m p l y based on comment descent. T h e y come into being t h r o u g h human actions. There is an element of choice and even of arbitrariness i n v o l v e d in the " s e t t l i n g t o g e t h e r ' ' of these p a r t i c u l a r h u m a n beings to the exclusion of others. T h i s w o u l d be unjust o n l y if the condition of those excluded w e r e impaired by their exclusion. But the condition of people w h o h a v e not y e t made a n y serious effort t o w a r d the perfection of human nature i s , of n e c e s s i t y , bad in the decisive respect; it cannot possibly be i m p a i r e d by t h e mere fact t h a t those a m o n g them w h o s e souls h a v e been stirred by the c a l l to perfection do m a k e such efforts. Besides, there is no necessary reason w h y those excluded should not form a c i v i l society of t h e i r o w n . C i v i l society as a closed society is possible and necessary in accordance w i t h justice, because it is in accordance w i t h n a t u r e . If restraint is as n a t u r a l to man as is freedom, and restraint must in m a n y cases be forcible restraint in order to be effective, one cannot s a y t h a t the c i t y is conventional or a g a i n s t nature because it is coercive society. M a n is so built t h a t he cannot achieve the perfection of h i s h u m a n i t y except by keeping 11

11. Plato Republic 423 5- 5; Laws 681 4- 5, 708 l- 7, 738 6- 5, 949 3 ff.; Aristotle Nicomacbean Ethics 1158-10-18, 1170 20-1171 20; Politics 1253 30-31, 1276-27-34 (cf. Thomas Aquinas, ad loc.), 1326 9- 26; Isocrates Antidosis 171-72; Cicero Laws ii. 5; cf. Thomas, Summa theologica i. qu. 65, a. 2, ad 3. a

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down h i s l o w e r impulses. He cannot rule h i s body by persuasion. T h i s fact alone s h o w s t h a t even despotic rule is not per se a g a i n s t nature. W h a t is true of self-restraint, self-coercion, and p o w e r over one's self applies in principle to the restraint and coercion of others and to p o w e r over others. To t a k e t h e extreme case, despotic rule is unjust o n l y if it is a p p l i e d to beings w h o can be ruled by persuasion or w h o s e understanding is sufficient: Prospero's rule over C a l i b a n is by nature just. J u s t i c e and coercion are not m u t u a l l y e x c l u s i v e ; in fact, it is not a l t o g e t h e r w r o n g to describe justice as a k i n d of benevolent coercion. J u s t i c e and v i r t u e in general are necessarily a k i n d of p o w e r . To s a y t h a t p o w e r as such is e v i l or corrupting w o u l d therefore amount to s a y i n g t h a t v i r t u e is e v i l or corrupting. W h i l e some men are corrupted by w i e l d i n g p o w e r , others are improved b y i t : " p o w e r w i l l s h o w a m a n . " 1 2

The full a c t u a l i z a t i o n of h u m a n i t y w o u l d then seem to consist, not in some sort of passive membership in c i v i l society, but in the properly directed a c t i v i t y of the statesman, the legi s l a t o r , or the founder. Serious concern for the perfection of a c o m m u n i t y requires a h i g h e r degree of v i r t u e than serious concern for the perfection of an i n d i v i d u a l . The judge and ruler h a s l a r g e r and nobler opportunities to act j u s t l y t h a n the ord i n a r y m a n . The good man is not identical s i m p l y w i t h the good citizen but w i t h the good citizen w h o exercises the function of a ruler in a good society. It is then something more solid than the dazzling splendor and clamor t h a t attends h i g h office and something more noble than the concern w i t h the w e l l - b e i n g of their bodies w h i c h induces men to p a y h o m a g e to p o l i t i c a l greatness. Being sensitive to m a n k i n d ' s g r e a t objects, freedom and empire, t h e y sense somehow t h a t p o l i t i c s is the field on w h i c h human excellence can s h o w itself in i t s full g r o w t h and on w h o s e proper c u l t i v a t i o n every form of excel12. Plato Republic 372 7-8 and 607 4, 519 4-520 5, 561 5-7; Laws 689 ff; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1130 1-2, 1180 14-22; Politics 1254 18-20, 5 - 6 , 1255 3-22, 1325 7 ff. b

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lence is in a w a y dependent. Freedom a n d empire are desired as elements or c o n d i t i o n s of h a p p i n e s s . But the feelings w h i c h are stirred by the v e r y w o r d s " f r e e d o m " a n d " e m p i r e " p o i n t to a more adequate understanding o f h a p p i n e s s t h a n t h a t w h i c h underlies the identification of h a p p i n e s s w i t h the w e l l - b e i n g of the body or the gratification of v a n i t y ; t h e y point to t h e v i e w t h a t h a p p i n e s s or the core of h a p p i n e s s consists in h u m a n excellence. P o l i t i c a l a c t i v i t y i s t h e n p r o p e r l y directed i f i t i s directed t o w a r d h u m a n perfection o r v i r t u e . The c i t y h a s therefore u l t i m a t e l y no o t h e r end t h a n the i n d i v i d u a l . The m o r a l i t y of c i v i l s o c i e t y or of t h e s t a t e is the same as t h e m o r a l i t y of t h e i n d i v i d u a l . T h e c i t y is e s s e n t i a l l y different from a g a n g of robbers because it is n o t m e r e l y an organ, or an expression, of c o l l e c t i v e selfishness. Since the u l t i m a t e end of the c i t y is the same as t h a t of t h e i n d i v i d u a l , the end of t h e c i t y i s peaceful a c t i v i t y i n accordance w i t h the d i g n i t y o f m a n , a n d not w a r and conquest. 1 3 Since the classics v i e w e d m o r a l a n d p o l i t i c a l m a t t e r s in t h e l i g h t o f m a n ' s perfection, t h e y w e r e not e g a l i t a r i a n s . Not a l l men are e q u a l l y equipped by nature for progress t o w a r d perfec tion, o r not a l l " n a t u r e s " are " g o o d n a t u r e s . " W h i l e a l l men, i . e . , a l l n o r m a l men, h a v e the c a p a c i t y for v i r t u e , some need g u i d a n c e by o t h e r s , w h e r e a s others do not at a l l or to a m u c h lesser degree. Besides, regardless of differences of n a t u r a l ca p a c i t y , not a l l men strive for v i r t u e w i t h e q u a l earnestness. H o w e v e r g r e a t an influence must be ascribed to the w a y in w h i c h men are b r o u g h t u p , the difference between good and bad u p b r i n g i n g is p a r t l y due to the difference between a favor able a n d an unfavorable n a t u r a l " e n v i r o n m e n t . " Since men 13. Thucydides iii. 45. 6; Plato Gorgias 464b3- 3, 478 l-b5, 521d 6-c l; Clitopho 408 b 2-5; Laws 628 b 6- e l, 645 b l-8; Xenophon Memorabilia ii. 1. 17; iii. 2. 4; iv. 2. 11; Aristotle Nicomacbean Ethics 1094b7-10, 1129b25-1130 8; Politics 1278bl-5, 1324b23-41, 1333b39ff.; Cicero Republic i. 1; iii. 10-11, 34-41; vi. 1 3 , 16; Thomas Aquinas, De regimine principům i. 9. c

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are then u n e q u a l in regard to h u m a n perfection, i . e . , in the decisive respect, equal r i g h t s for a l l appeared to the classics as most unjust. T h e y contended t h a t some men are by nature superior to others and therefore, according to n a t u r a l r i g h t , t h e rulers of others. It is sometimes suggested t h a t the v i e w of the classics w a s rejected by the Stoics and e s p e c i a l l y by Cicero a n d t h a t t h i s c h a n g e m a r k s an epoch in the development of n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine or a r a d i c a l break w i t h the n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine of Socrates, P l a t o , and A r i s t o t l e . But Cicero himself, w h o must be supposed to h a v e k n o w n w h a t he w a s t a l k i n g about, w a s w h o l l y u n a w a r e of a r a d i c a l difference between P l a t o ' s t e a c h i n g a n d h i s o w n . The crucial p a s s a g e in Cicero's Laws, w h i c h according to a common v i e w is meant to e s t a b l i s h e g a l i t a r i a n n a t u r a l r i g h t , i s , in fact, meant to prove m a n ' s n a t u r a l s o c i a l i t y . In order to prove m a n ' s n a t u r a l s o c i a l i t y , Cicero s p e a k s of a l l men being s i m i l a r to one another, i . e . , a k i n to one another. He presents the s i m i l a r i t y in question as the n a t u r a l basis of m a n ' s benevolence to m a n : simile simili gaudet. It is a c o m p a r a t i v e l y unimportant question w h e t h e r an expression used by Cicero in t h i s context m i g h t not be i n d i c at i v e of a s l i g h t bias in favor of e g a l i t a r i a n conceptions. It suff i c e s t o r e m a r k t h a t Cicero's w r i t i n g s abound w i t h statements w h i c h reaffirm the classical v i e w t h a t men are unequal in t h e decisive respect and w h i c h reaffirm the p o l i t i c a l i m p l i c a t i o n s of that v i e w . 1 4

In order to reach h i s h i g h e s t stature, man m u s t l i v e in t h e best k i n d of society, in the k i n d of society t h a t is most conducive to h u m a n excellence. The classics called the best soc i e t y the best politeia. By t h i s expression t h e y i n d i c a t e d , first of a l l , t h a t , in order to be good, society must be c i v i l or p o l i t i 14. Plato Republic 374 4-376 6, 431 5-7, 485 4-487 5; Xenophon Memorabilia iv. 1. 2; Hiero 7. 3; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1099 18-20, 1095 10-13, Republic 1114 31- 25; Politics 1254 29-31, 1267 7, 1327 18-39; Cicero Laws i. 28-35; Republic i. 49, 52; iii. 4, 37-38; De finibus iv. 21, 56; v. 69; Tusc. Disp. ii. 11, 1 3 ; iv. 3 1 - 3 2 ; v. 68; Offices i. 105, 107. Thomas Aquinas, Summa tbeologica i. qu. 96, a. 3 and 4. e

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cal society, a society in w h i c h there e x i s t s government of men and not merely administration of t h i n g s . Politeia is o r d i n a r i l y translated by " c o n s t i t u t i o n . " But w h e n using the term "cons t i t u t i o n " in a p o l i t i c a l context, modern men almost i n e v i t a b l y mean a l e g a l phenomenon, s o m e t h i n g l i k e the fundamental l a w of the l a n d , and not something l i k e the constitution of the body or of the soul. Yet politeia is not a l e g a l phenomenon. The classics used politeia in contradistinction to " l a w s . " The politeia is more fundamental than a n y l a w s ; it is the source of a l l l a w s . The politeia is r a t h e r the factual d i s tribution of p o w e r w i t h i n the c o m m u n i t y than w h a t constitut i o n a l l a w s t i p u l a t e s in regard to p o l i t i c a l p o w e r . The politeia m a y be defined by l a w s , but it need not be. The l a w s r e g a r d i n g a politeia m a y be deceptive, u n i n t e n t i o n a l l y and even intent i o n a l l y , as to the true character of the politeia. No l a w , and hence no constitution, can be the fundamental p o l i t i c a l fact, because a l l l a w s depend on h u m a n beings. L a w s h a v e to be adopted, preserved, and administered by men. The h u m a n beings m a k i n g up a p o l i t i c a l c o m m u n i t y m a y be " a r r a n g e d " in g r e a t l y different w a y s in regard to the control of communal affairs. It is p r i m a r i l y the factual " a r r a n g e m e n t " of h u m a n beings in r e g a r d to p o l i t i c a l p o w e r t h a t is m e a n t by politeia. The American Constitution is not the same t h i n g as the American w a y of life. Politeia means the w a y of life of a soc i e t y r a t h e r t h a n i t s constitution. Y e t it is no accident t h a t the unsatisfactory translation " c o n s t i t u t i o n " is g e n e r a l l y preferred to the t r a n s l a t i o n " w a y of life of a s o c i e t y . " When s p e a k i n g of constitution, we t h i n k of government; we do not necessarily t h i n k of government w h e n s p e a k i n g of the w a y of life of a community. When s p e a k i n g of politeia, the classics t h o u g h t of the w a y of life of a c o m m u n i t y as e s s e n t i a l l y determined by i t s "form of g o v e r n m e n t . " We s h a l l translate politeia by " r e g i m e , " t a k i n g r e g i m e in the broad sense in w h i c h w e sometimes t a k e i t w h e n s p e a k i n g , e.g., o f the Ancien


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R é g i m e of France. The t h o u g h t connecting " w a y of life of a s o c i e t y " and "form of g o v e r n m e n t " can p r o v i s i o n a l l y be stated as f o l l o w s : The character, or tone, of a society depends on w h a t the society regards as most respectable or most w o r t h y of a d m i r a t i o n . But by r e g a r d i n g certain h a b i t s or a t t i tudes as most respectable, a society a d m i t s the superiority, the superior d i g n i t y , of those human beings w h o most perfectly embody the h a b i t s or a t t i t u d e s in question. T h a t is to s a y , every society regards a specific h u m a n t y p e ( o r a specific m i x ture of h u m a n t y p e s ) as a u t h o r i t a t i v e . W h e n the a u t h o r i t a t i v e t y p e is the common man, e v e r y t h i n g h a s to justify itself before the t r i b u n a l of the common man; e v e r y t h i n g w h i c h cannot be justified before t h a t tribunal becomes, at best, merely tolerated, if not despised or suspect. A n d even those w h o do not recognize t h a t tribunal are, w i l l y - n i l l y , molded b y i t s verdicts. W h a t is true of the society ruled by the common man applies also to societies ruled by the priest, the w e a l t h y merchant, the w a r lord, t h e gentleman, and so on. In order to be t r u l y a u t h o r i t a t i v e , the h u m a n beings w h o embody the admired h a b its or a t t i t u d e s must h a v e the decisive s a y w i t h i n the commun i t y in broad d a y l i g h t : t h e y must form the regime. W h e n the classics w e r e chiefly concerned w i t h the different r e g i m e s , and e s p e c i a l l y w i t h the best r e g i m e , t h e y i m p l i e d t h a t the p a r a mount s o c i a l phenomenon, or t h a t social phenomenon t h a n w h i c h o n l y the n a t u r a l phenomena are more fundamental, is the r e g i m e . 15

15. Plato Republic 497 3~5, 544 6-7; Laws 711 5-8. Xenophon Ways and Means 1.1; Cyropaediai. 2. 15; Isocrates ToNicocles31;Nicocles37; Areopagiticus 14; AristotleNicomachean Ethics 1181 12-23; Politics 1273 40 ff., 1278 ll-13, 1288 23-24, 1289 12-20, 1292 ll-18, 1295 l, 1297 14 ff.; Cicero Republic i. 47; v. 5-7; Laws i. 14-15, 17, 19; i i i . 2. Cicero has indicated the higher dignity of "regime" as distinguished from " l a w s " by the contrast between the settings of his Republic and his Laws. The Laws are meant as a sequel to the Republic. In the Republic the younger Scipio, a philosopherking, has a three-day conversation with some of his contemporaries about the best regime; in the Laws Cicero has a one-day conversation with some of his contemporaries about the laws appropriate to the best regime. The discussion of the Republic takes a

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The central significance of the phenomena c a l l e d " r e g i m e s " h a s become s o m e w h a t blurred. The reasons for t h i s c h a n g e are the same as those responsible for the fact t h a t p o l i t i c a l h i s t o r y h a s ceded i t s former pre-eminence to social, c u l t u r a l , economi c , etc., h i s t o r y . The emergence of these n e w branches of h i s t o r y finds i t s c u l m i n a t i o n — a n d its l e g i t i m a t i o n — i n the concept of " c i v i l i z a t i o n s " ( o r " c u l t u r e s " ) . We are in the h a b i t of speaking of " c i v i l i z a t i o n s , " w h e r e the classics spoke of " r e g i m e s . " " C i v i l i z a t i o n " i s the modern substitute for " r e g i m e . " It is difficult to find out w h a t a c i v i l i z a t i o n i s . A c i v i l i z a t i o n is said to be a l a r g e society, but we are not told c l e a r l y w h a t k i n d of society it i s . If we inquire h o w one can t e l l one c i v i l i z a t i o n from another, we are informed t h a t t h e most obvious and least m i s l e a d i n g m a r k is the difference in a r t i s t i c s t y l e s . T h i s means t h a t c i v i l i z a t i o n s are societies w h i c h are characterized by something w h i c h is never in the focus of interest of l a r g e societies as such: societies do not go to w a r w i t h one another on account of differences of a r t i s t i c s t y l e s . Our orientation by c i v i l i z a t i o n s , instead of by r e g i m e s , w o u l d seem to be due to a peculiar estrangement from those life-and-death issues w h i c h move and a n i m a t e societies and keep t h e m together. The best r e g i m e w o u l d t o d a y be c a l l e d an " i d e a l r e g i m e " or s i m p l y a n " i d e a l . " The modern term " i d e a l " carries w i t h i t a host of connotations w h i c h o b v i a t e the understanding of w h a t the classics meant by the best r e g i m e . Modern translators sometimes use " i d e a l " for rendering w h a t the classics c a l l " a c c o r d i n g to w i s h " or " a c c o r d i n g to p r a y e r . " The best reg i m e is t h a t for w h i c h one w o u l d w i s h or p r a y . Closer e x place in winter: the participants seek the sun; in addition, the discussion takes place in the year of Scipio's death: political things are viewed in the light of eternity. The discussion of the Laws takes place in summer: the participants seek shade (Republic i. 18; vi. 8, 1 2 ; Laws i. 14, 15; ii. 7, 69; iii. 30; Offices i i i . 1 ) . For illustrations compare, inter alia, Machiavelli, Discorsi, III, 29; Burke, Conciliation with America, toward the end; John Stuart Mill, Autobiography ("Oxford World's Classics" ed.), pp. 294 and 1 3 7 .


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a m i n a t i o n w o u l d s h o w t h a t the best regime is the object of the w i s h or p r a y e r of a l l good men or of a l l gentlemen : the best r e g i m e , as presented by classical p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y , is t h e object of t h e w i s h or p r a y e r of gentlemen as t h a t object is interpreted by the philosopher. But the best r e g i m e , as the classics understand i t , is not o n l y most desirable; it is also meant to be feasible or possible, i . e . , possible on e a r t h . It is both desirable and possible because it is according to nature. Since it is according to nature, no m i r a c u l o u s or nonmiraculous change in h u m a n nature is required for its a c t u a l i z a t i o n ; it does not require the a b o l i t i o n or e x t i r p a t i o n of t h a t e v i l or imperfection w h i c h is essential to m a n and to human l i f e ; it is therefore possible. And, since it is in accordance w i t h the requirements of the excellence or perfection of h u m a n nature, it. is most desirable. Yet, w h i l e the best regime is possible, i t s a c t u a l i z a t i o n is by no means necessary. Its a c t u a l i z a t i o n is v e r y difficult, hence improbable, even e x t r e m e l y improbable. For man does not control the conditions under w h i c h it could become a c t u a l . Its a c t u a l i z a t i o n depends on chance. The best r e g i m e , w h i c h i s according t o nature, w a s perhaps never a c t u a l ; there is no reason to assume t h a t it is a c t u a l at present; and it m a y never become a c t u a l . It is of i t s essence to exist in speech as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from deed. In a w o r d , the best regime i s , in itself—to use a term coined by one of the profoundest students of P l a t o ' s Republic—a " u t o p i a . " The best r e g i m e is possible o n l y under the most favorable conditions. It is therefore just or l e g i t i m a t e only under the most favorable conditions. Under more or less unfavorable conditions, o n l y more or less imperfect regimes are possible and therefore l e g i t i m a t e . There is o n l y one best r e g i m e , but 1 6

16. Plato Republic 457 3-4, 2, 4-9, 473 5- l, 499 2- 3, 502 5-7, 540 l-3, 592 11; Laws 709 , 710"7-8, 736 5- 4, 740 8-741 4, 742 1-4, 780 4-6, »1-2, 841 6-8, 960 5- 2; Aristotle Politics 1265 18-19, 1270 20, 1295 25-30, 1296 37-38, 1328 20-21, 1329 15 if., 1331 18-23, 1332 28- 10, 1336 40 ff. a

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there is a v a r i e t y of l e g i t i m a t e r e g i m e s . The v a r i e t y of l e g i t i m a t e regimes corresponds to the v a r i e t y of t y p e s of relevant circumstances. Whereas the best r e g i m e is possible o n l y under the most favorable conditions, l e g i t i m a t e or just regimes are possible and m o r a l l y necessary at a l l times and in a l l p l a c e s . The distinction between the best r e g i m e and l e g i t i m a t e reg i m e s h a s i t s root in the distinction between the noble and the just'. E v e r y t h i n g noble is just, but not e v e r y t h i n g just is noble. To p a y one's debts is just, but not noble. Deserved punishment is just, but not noble. The farmers and artisans in P l a t o ' s best p o l i t y l e a d just l i v e s , but t h e y do not lead noble l i v e s : t h e y l a c k the opportunity for a c t i n g n o b l y . W h a t a man does under duress is just in the sense t h a t he cannot be blamed for i t ; but it can never be noble. Noble actions require, as A r i s t o t l e s a y s , a certain equipment; w i t h o u t such equipment t h e y are not possible. But we are obliged to act j u s t l y under a l l circumstances. A v e r y imperfect'regime m a y supply the o n l y just solution to the problem of a g i v e n c o m m u n i t y ; but, since such a regime cannot be effectively directed t o w a r d m a n ' s full perfection, it can never be n o b l e . To a v o i d misunderstandings, it is necessary to s a y a few words about the answer, c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of the classics, to the question of the best regime. The best regime is t h a t in w h i c h the best men h a b i t u a l l y r u l e , or a r i s t o c r a c y . Goodness i s , if not identical w i t h w i s d o m , a t a n y r a t e dependent o n w i s d o m : the best regime w o u l d seem to be the rule of the w i s e . In fact, w i s d o m appeared to the classics as t h a t t i t l e to rule w h i c h is h i g h e s t according to nature. It w o u l d be absurd to hamper the free flow of w i s d o m by a n y r e g u l a t i o n s ; hence the rule of the w i s e must be absolute rule. It w o u l d be e q u a l l y absurd to h a m 17

17. Plato Republic 431 9-433 5, 434"7-10; Xenophon Cyropaedia viii. 2. 23; Apsilaus 11. 8; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1120 11-20, 1135 5; Politics 1288 10 ff., 1293 22-27, 1296 25-35 (cf. [Thomas Aquinas] ad loc.) 1332 10 ff.; Rhetoric 1366 31-34; Polybius vi. 6. 6-9. b

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per the free flow of w i s d o m by consideration of the u n w i s e w i s h e s of the u n w i s e ; hence the w i s e rulers o u g h t not to be responsible to t h e i r u n w i s e subjects. To m a k e the rule of the w i s e dependent on election by the u n w i s e or consent of the u n w i s e w o u l d mean to subject w h a t is by nature h i g h e r to control b y w h a t i s b y nature l o w e r , i . e . , t o act a g a i n s t n a t u r e . Yet t h i s solution, w h i c h at first glance seems to be the o n l y just solution for a society in w h i c h there are w i s e men, i s , as a rule, i m p r a c t i c a b l e . The few w i s e cannot rule the m a n y unw i s e by force. The unwise m u l t i t u d e must recognize the w i s e as w i s e and obey them freely because of their w i s d o m . But the a b i l i t y of t h e w i s e to persuade the u n w i s e is e x t r e m e l y l i m i t e d : Socrates, w h o l i v e d w h a t h e t a u g h t , failed i n h i s attempt t o govern X a n t h i p p e . Therefore, it is e x t r e m e l y u n l i k e l y t h a t the conditions required for the rule of the w i s e w i l l ever be met. W h a t is more l i k e l y to happen is t h a t an u n w i s e m a n , appealing to the n a t u r a l r i g h t of w i s d o m and catering to the l o w e s t desires of t h e m a n y , w i l l persuade the m u l t i t u d e of h i s r i g h t : the prospects for t y r a n n y are b r i g h t e r than those for rule of the w i s e . T h i s being the case, the n a t u r a l r i g h t of the w i s e must be questioned, and the indispensable requirement for w i s d o m must be qualified by the requirement for consent. The p o l i t i c a l problem consists in reconciling the requirement for w i s d o m w i t h the requirement for consent. But w h e r e a s , from the point of v i e w of e g a l i t a r i a n n a t u r a l r i g h t , consent t a k e s precedence over w i s d o m , from the point of v i e w of classic n a t u r a l r i g h t , w i s d o m t a k e s precedence over consent. According to the c l a s sics, the best w a y of meeting these t w o e n t i r e l y different req u i r e m e n t s — t h a t for w i s d o m and t h a t for consent or for freed o m — w o u l d be t h a t a w i s e l e g i s l a t o r frame a code w h i c h the citizen b o d y , d u l y persuaded, freely adopts. T h a t code, w h i c h i s , as it w e r e , the embodiment of w i s d o m , must be as l i t t l e subject to a l t e r a t i o n as possible; the rule of l a w is to t a k e the place of the rule of men, h o w e v e r w i s e . The a d m i n i s t r a t i o n of

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the l a w must be intrusted to a type of man w h o is most l i k e l y to administer it e q u i t a b l y , i . e . , in the spirit of the w i s e l e g i s l a t o r , or to " c o m p l e t e " the l a w according to the requirements of circumstances w h i c h the l e g i s l a t o r could not have foreseen. The classics h e l d t h a t t h i s type of m a n is the g e n t l e m a n . The gentleman is not identical w i t h the w i s e m a n . He is the p o l i t i cal reflection, or i m i t a t i o n , of the w i s e man. Gentlemen h a v e t h i s i n common w i t h the w i s e m a n , t h a t t h e y " l o o k d o w n " on m a n y t h i n g s w h i c h are h i g h l y esteemed by the v u l g a r or t h a t t h e y are experienced in t h i n g s noble and beautiful. T h e y differ from the w i s e because t h e y h a v e a noble contempt for precision, because t h e y refuse to t a k e cognizance of certain a s pects of life, and because, in order to l i v e as gentlemen, t h e y must be w e l l off. The gentleman w i l l be a man of not too great inherited w e a l t h , chiefly landed, but w h o s e w a y of life is urban. He w i l l be an urban p a t r i c i a n w h o derives h i s income from a g r i c u l t u r e . The best regime w i l l then be a republic in w h i c h the landed g e n t r y , w h i c h is at the same time the urban p a t r i c i a t e , w e l l - b r e d and public spirited, o b e y i n g the l a w s and completing t h e m , r u l i n g and being ruled in turn, predominates and g i v e s society i t s character. The classics devised or recommended v a r i o u s institutions w h i c h appeared to be conducive to the rule of the best. Probably t h e most influential suggestion w a s the m i x e d r e g i m e , m i x e d o f k i n g s h i p , a r i s t o c r a c y , and democracy. In the mixed regime the aristocratic element— the g r a v i t y of the senate—occupies t h e i n t e r m e d i a t e , i . e . , the central or k e y position. The mixed r e g i m e i s , in fact—and it is meant to be—an aristocracy w h i c h is strengthened and protected by the a d m i x t u r e of monarchic and democratic i n s t i t u tions. To summarize, one m a y s a y t h a t it is characteristic of the classic n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g to c u l m i n a t e in a twofold answer to the question of the best r e g i m e : the s i m p l y best reg i m e w o u l d be the absolute rule of t h e w i s e ; the p r a c t i c a l l y


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best regime is the r u l e , under l a w , of gentlemen, or the m i x e d regime. According to a v i e w w h i c h t o d a y is rather common and w h i c h m a y be described as M a r x i s t or c r y p t o - M a r x i s t , the classics preferred the rule of the urban p a t r i c i a t e because t h e y themselves belonged to the urban p a t r i c i a t e or w e r e h a n g e r s on of the urban p a t r i c i a t e . We need not t a k e issue w i t h the contention t h a t , in s t u d y i n g a p o l i t i c a l doctrine, we must consider the b i a s , and even the class b i a s , of i t s o r i g i n a t o r . It suffices to demand t h a t the class to w h i c h the t h i n k e r in question belongs be correctly identified. In the common v i e w the fact is overlooked t h a t there is a class interest of the philosophers qua philosophers, and t h i s o v e r s i g h t is u l t i m a t e l y due to the denial of t h e p o s s i b i l i t y of p h i l o s o p h y . Philosophers as p h i losophers do not go w i t h t h e i r f a m i l i e s . The selfish or class interest of t h e philosophers consists in being left a l o n e , in being a l l o w e d to l i v e the life of the blessed on earth by devoti n g themselves to i n v e s t i g a t i o n of the most important subjects. N o w it is an experience of m a n y centuries in g r e a t l y different n a t u r a l and moral c l i m a t e s t h a t there w a s one and o n l y one class w h i c h w a s h a b i t u a l l y s y m p a t h e t i c t o p h i l o s o p h y , and not i n t e r m i t t e n t l y , l i k e k i n g s ; and t h i s w a s the urban p a t r i c i a t e . The common people h a d no s y m p a t h y for p h i l o s o p h y and philosophers. A s Cicero put i t , p h i l o s o p h y w a s suspect to t h e m a n y . O n l y in the nineteenth century did t h i s state of t h i n g s profoundly and manifestly c h a n g e , and the c h a n g e w a s u l t i m a t e l y due to a complete c h a n g e in the m e a n i n g of philosophy. 18

18. Plato Statesman 293 7 ff.; Laws 680 l-4, 684 l-6, 690 8- 3, 691 7-692 l, 693 le8, 701«, 7 4 4 l - l , 756"9-10, 806 7 ff., 846 l-7; Xenophon Memorabilia iii. 9. 10-13; iv. 6. 12; Oeconomicus 4. 2 ff., 6. 5-10, 11. 1 ff.; Anabasis v. 8. 26; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1160 32-1161»30; Eudemian Ethics 1242 27-31; Politics 1261 38- 3,1265 33-1266 6, 1270 8-27, 1277 35-1278 22, 1278»37-1279 17, 1284 4- 34, 1289 39 ff.; Polybius vi. 51. 5-8; Cicero Republic i. 52, 55 (cf. 41), 56-63, 69; ii. 37-40, 55-56, 59; iv. 8; Diogenes Laertius vii. 131; Thomas Aquinas Summa thcologica i i . 1. qu. 95, a. 1 ad 2 and a. 4; qu. 105, a. 1. e

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The classic n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine in i t s o r i g i n a l form, if fully developed, is i d e n t i c a l w i t h t h e doctrine of the best r e g i m e . For the question as to w h a t is by nature r i g h t or as to w h a t is justice finds its complete a n s w e r o n l y t h r o u g h the construction, in speech, of the best r e g i m e . The e s s e n t i a l l y p o l i t i cal character of the classic n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrine appears most c l e a r l y in P l a t o ' s Republic. H a r d l y less r e v e a l i n g is the fact t h a t A r i s t o t l e ' s discussion of n a t u r a l r i g h t is a part of h i s discussion of p o l i t i c a l r i g h t , e s p e c i a l l y if one contrasts the opening of A r i s t o t l e ' s statement w i t h the statement of U l p i a n in w h i c h n a t u r a l r i g h t is introduced as a part of p r i v a t e r i g h t . The p o l i t i c a l character of n a t u r a l r i g h t became blurred, or ceased to be e s s e n t i a l , under the influence of both ancient e g a l i t a r i a n n a t u r a l r i g h t and the biblical f a i t h . On the basis of the b i b l i c a l faith, the best r e g i m e s i m p l y is the C i t y of God; therefore, the best regime i s coeval w i t h Creation a n d hence a l w a y s a c t u a l ; and the cessation of e v i l , or Redemption, is brought about by God's supernatural action. The question of the best regime thus loses its crucial significance. The best regime as the c l a s sics understood it ceases to be i d e n t i c a l w i t h the perfect moral order. The end of c i v i l society is no l o n g e r " v i r t u o u s life as s u c h " but o n l y a certain segment of the v i r t u o u s life. The notion of God as l a w g i v e r t a k e s on a c e r t a i n t y and definiteness w h i c h it never possessed in c l a s s i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . Therefore n a t u r a l r i g h t or, r a t h e r , n a t u r a l l a w becomes independent of the best regime and t a k e s precedence over it. The Second Table of the Decalogue and the principles embodied in it are of infinitely h i g h e r d i g n i t y t h a n the best r e g i m e . It is classic natural r i g h t in t h i s profoundly modified form t h a t h a s exercised 19

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the most powerful influence on Western t h o u g h t almost since the beginnings of the C h r i s t i a n Era. S t i l l , even t h i s crucial modification of the c l a s s i c a l t e a c h i n g w a s in a w a y a n t i c i pated by the classics. According to the classics, p o l i t i c a l life as such is e s s e n t i a l l y inferior in d i g n i t y to the p h i l o s o p h i c life. This observation leads to a n e w difficulty, or r a t h e r it leads us back to the same difficulty w i t h w h i c h we h a v e been confronted t h r o u g h o u t — e . g . , w h e n w e used terms l i k e " g e n t l e m e n . " I f m a n ' s u l t i m a t e end i s t r a n s - p o l i t i c a l , n a t u r a l r i g h t w o u l d seem to h a v e a trans-political root. Yet can n a t u r a l r i g h t be a d e q u a t e l y understood if it is d i r e c t l y referred to t h i s root? Can n a t u r a l r i g h t be deduced from m a n ' s n a t u r a l end? Can it be deduced from a n y t h i n g ? Human nature is one t h i n g , v i r t u e or the perfection of h u man nature is another. The definite character of the v i r t u e s and, in p a r t i c u l a r , of justice cannot be deduced from h u m a n nature. In the l a n g u a g e of P l a t o , the idea of man is indeed compatible w i t h the idea of justice, but it is a different i d e a . The idea of justice even seems to belong to a different k i n d of ideas t h a n the idea of m a n , since the idea of man is not in t h e same w a y p r o b l e m a t i c as the idea of j u s t i c e ; there is h a r d l y a n y disagreement as to w h e t h e r a g i v e n being is a m a n , w h e r e as there is h a b i t u a l disagreement in regard to t h i n g s just and noble. In the l a n g u a g e of A r i s t o t l e , one could s a y t h a t the r e l a t i o n of v i r t u e to h u m a n nature is comparable to t h a t of act and potency, and the act cannot be determined by s t a r t i n g from the potency, but, on the contrary, the potency becomes k n o w n by l o o k i n g back to it from the a c t . Human nature 21

colour for Aristocracy, Democracy, or Monarchy, nor yet at all interrupt their just courses, but far above the taking notice of these inferior niceties with perfect sympathy, wherever they meet, kiss each other." Italics are not in the original. a

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" i s " in a different manner than i t s perfection or v i r t u e . V i r t u e e x i s t s in most cases, if not in a l l cases, as an object of aspiration and not as fulfilment. Therefore, it e x i s t s in speech r a t h e r t h a n in deed. W h a t e v e r m a y be the proper starting point for s t u d y i n g human nature, the proper s t a r t i n g point for s t u d y i n g the perfection of human nature, and hence, in p a r t i c u l a r , n a t u r a l r i g h t , is w h a t is said about these subjects or the opinions about them. V e r y r o u g h l y s p e a k i n g , w e m a y d i s t i n g u i s h three types o f classic n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g s , or three different manners in w h i c h the classics understood n a t u r a l r i g h t . These three t y p e s are the Socratic-Platonic, the A r i s t o t e l i a n , and the T h o m i s t i c . As regards the Stoics, it seems to me t h a t their n a t u r a l r i g h t teaching belongs to the Socratic-Platonic t y p e . According to a v i e w w h i c h t o d a y i s f a i r l y common, the Stoics o r i g i n a t e d a n e n t i r e l y n e w t y p e of n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g . But, to s a y nothing here of other considerations, t h i s opinion is based on neglect of the close connection between stoicism and c y n i c i s m , and cynicism w a s o r i g i n a t e d by a S o c r a t i c . To describe, then, as concisely as we can the character of w h a t w e s h a l l venture t o c a l l the "Socratic-Platonic-Stoic natural r i g h t t e a c h i n g , " we start from the conflict between the t w o most common opinions r e g a r d i n g justice : t h a t justice is good and t h a t justice consists in g i v i n g to everyone w h a t is due to h i m . W h a t is due to a man is defined by l a w , i . e . , by the l a w of the c i t y . But the l a w of the c i t y m a y be foolish and hence harmful or bad. Therefore, t h e justice t h a t consists in g i v i n g to everyone w h a t is due to h i m m a y be bad. If justice is to remain good, we must conceive of it as e s s e n t i a l l y independent of l a w . We s h a l l then define justice as the h a b i t of g i v i n g 22

22. Cicero Di finibus i i i . 6 8 ; Diogenes Laertius vi. 14-15; vii. 3, 121; Sextus Empiricus Pyrrhonica iii. 200, 205- Montaigne opposes " [ l a ] secte Stoïque, plus franche" to " l a secte Peripatétique, plus civile" (Essais, II, 12 ["Chronique des lettres françaises," Vol. IV], p. 40).


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to everyone w h a t is due to h i m according to nature. A h i n t as to w h a t is due to others according to nature is supplied by t h e g e n e r a l l y accepted opinion according to w h i c h it is unjust to return a dangerous w e a p o n to its l a w f u l owner if he is insane or bent on t h e destruction of the c i t y . T h i s i m p l i e s t h a t n o t h i n g can be just w h i c h is harmful to others, or t h a t justice is the h a b i t of not h a r m i n g others. T h i s definition f a i l s , h o w e v e r , to account for the frequent cases w h e r e we blame as unjust such men w h o , indeed, never h a r m another but scrupulously refrain from ever h e l p i n g another by deed or by speech. J u s t i c e w i l l then be the h a b i t of benefiting others. The just man is he w h o g i v e s to everyone, not w h a t a p o s s i b l y foolish l a w prescribes, but w h a t is good for the other, i . e . , w h a t is by nature good for the other. Y e t not everyone k n o w s w h a t is good for m a n in general, and for every i n d i v i d u a l in p a r t i c u l a r . J u s t as o n l y t h e p h y s i c i a n t r u l y k n o w s w h a t is in each case good for the body, o n l y the w i s e man t r u l y k n o w s w h a t is good in each case for the soul. T h i s being the case, there cannot be justice, i . e . , g i v ing to everyone w h a t is by nature good for h i m , except in a society in w h i c h w i s e men are in absolute control. Let us t a k e the e x a m p l e of the big boy w h o h a s a small coat and the s m a l l boy w h o h a s a big coat. The big boy is the l a w ful o w n e r of the s m a l l coat because h e , or h i s father, h a s b o u g h t i t . B u t it is not good for h i m ; it does not fit h i m . The w i s e ruler w i l l therefore t a k e the b i g coat a w a y from the s m a l l boy and g i v e it to the big boy w i t h o u t a n y regard to l e g a l o w n e r s h i p . The l e a s t w e h a v e t o s a y i s t h a t just o w n e r s h i p i s something e n t i r e l y different from l e g a l o w n e r s h i p . If there is to be justice, the w i s e rulers must assign to everyone w h a t is t r u l y due to h i m or w h a t is by nature good for h i m . T h e y w i l l g i v e t o everyone o n l y w h a t h e can use w e l l , and t h e y w i l l t a k e a w a y from everyone w h a t he cannot use w e l l . J u s t i c e is then incompatible w i t h w h a t i s g e n e r a l l y understood b y p r i v a t e o w n e r s h i p . A l l using is u l t i m a t e l y for the s a k e of action or

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doing; justice requires, therefore, above a l l , t h a t everyone be assigned such a function or such a job as he can perform w e l l . But everyone does best t h a t for w h i c h he is best fitted by nature. J u s t i c e e x i s t s , then, o n l y in a society in w h i c h everyone does w h a t he can do w e l l and in w h i c h everyone h a s w h a t he can use w e l l . J u s t i c e is identical w i t h membership in such a society and devotion to such a s o c i e t y — a society according to nature. 23

We must go further. The justice of t h e c i t y m a y be said to consist in a c t i n g according to the principle "from everyone according to h i s c a p a c i t y and to everyone according to h i s m e r i t s . " A society is just if its l i v i n g principle is " e q u a l i t y of o p p o r t u n i t y , " i . e . , if every human being belonging to it h a s the opportunity, corresponding to h i s c a p a c i t i e s , of deserving w e l l of the w h o l e and receiving the proper r e w a r d for h i s deserts. Since there is no good reason for assuming t h a t the c a p a c i t y for meritorious action is bound up w i t h sex, beauty, and so on, " d i s c r i m i n a t i o n " on account of sex, u g l i n e s s , and so on is unjust. The only proper r e w a r d for service is honor, and therefore the o n l y proper r e w a r d for outstanding service is great a u t h o r i t y . In a just society t h e social h i e r a r c h y w i l l correspond s t r i c t l y to the h i e r a r c h y of merit and of merit alone. N o w , as a rule, c i v i l society regards as an indispensable condition for h o l d i n g h i g h office t h a t the i n d i v i d u a l concerned be a born citizen, a son of a citizen father and a citizen mother. T h a t is to s a y , c i v i l society in one w a y or another qualifies the principle of merit, i . e . , the principle p a r excellence of justice, by the w h o l l y unconnected principle of indigenousness. In order to be t r u l y just, c i v i l society w o u l d h a v e to drop t h i s 23. Plato Republic 331 l-332 4, 335 ll-12, 421 7-422 7 (cf. Laws 739 8- 3 and Aristotle Politics 1264 13-17), 433 3-434 l; Crito 49 ; Clitopho 407 8-408 5, 410 l-3; Xenophon Memorabilia iv. 4. 12-13, 8. 1 1 ; Oeconomicus 1. 5-14; Cyropaedia i. 3. 16-17; Cicero Republic i. 27-28; iii. 11; Laws i. 18-19; Offices i. 28, 29, 31; iii. 27; De finibus i i i . 71, 75; Lucullus 136-37; cf. Aristotle Magna moralia 1199 10-35. c

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qualification; c i v i l society must be transformed into t h e " w o r l d - s t a t e . " T h a t this is necessary is said to appear also from the f o l l o w i n g consideration: C i v i l society as closed soc i e t y n e c e s s a r i l y i m p l i e s t h a t there is more t h a n one c i v i l soc i e t y , and t h e r e w i t h t h a t w a r i s possible. C i v i l society must therefore foster w a r l i k e h a b i t s . But these h a b i t s are at v a r i ance w i t h the requirements of justice. If people are e n g a g e d in w a r , t h e y are concerned w i t h v i c t o r y and not w i t h a s s i g n i n g t o the enemy w h a t a n i m p a r t i a l and discerning judge w o u l d consider beneficial to the enemy. T h e y are concerned w i t h h a r m i n g others, and the just man appeared to be a man w h o does not h a r m a n y o n e . C i v i l society is therefore forced to m a k e a d i s t i n c t i o n : the just man is he w h o does not h a r m , but l o v e s , h i s friends or n e i g h b o r s , i . e . , h i s fellow-citizens, but w h o does h a r m o r w h o h a t e s h i s enemies, i . e . , the foreigners w h o as such are at least p o t e n t i a l enemies of h i s c i t y . We m a y c a l l t h i s type o f justice " c i t i z e n - m o r a l i t y , " and w e s h a l l s a y t h a t the c i t y necessarily requires c i t i z e n - m o r a l i t y in t h i s sense. But c i t i z e n - m o r a l i t y suffers from an i n e v i t a b l e self-contradiction. It asserts t h a t different rules of conduct a p p l y in w a r t h a n in peace, but it cannot h e l p r e g a r d i n g at least some relevant r u l e s , w h i c h are said to a p p l y to peace o n l y , as univers a l l y v a l i d . The c i t y cannot l e a v e i t a t s a y i n g , for instance, t h a t deception, and e s p e c i a l l y deception to the detriment of others, is bad in peace but p r a i s e w o r t h y in w a r . It cannot h e l p v i e w i n g w i t h suspicion the man w h o i s good a t deceiving, o r i t cannot h e l p r e g a r d i n g the devious o r disingenuous w a y s w h i c h are required for a n y successful deception as s i m p l y mean or distasteful. Yet the c i t y must command, and even p r a i s e , such w a y s if t h e y are used a g a i n s t the enemy. To a v o i d t h i s self-contradiction, the c i t y must transform itself into the " w o r l d - s t a t e . " B u t no human being and no group of h u m a n beings can rule the w h o l e h u m a n race j u s t l y . Therefore, w h a t is divined in s p e a k i n g of the " w o r l d - s t a t e " as an all-compre-

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hensive human society subject to one human government is in truth the cosmos ruled by God, w h i c h is then the o n l y true c i t y , or the c i t y t h a t is s i m p l y according to nature because it is the o n l y c i t y w h i c h is s i m p l y just. M e n are citizens of t h i s c i t y , or freemen in i t , o n l y if t h e y are w i s e ; t h e i r obedience to the l a w w h i c h orders the n a t u r a l c i t y , t o the n a t u r a l l a w , i s the same t h i n g as p r u d e n c e . 24

24. Plato Statesman 271 3-272 l; Laws 713 2- 6; Xenophon Cyropaedia i. 6. 27-34; i i . 2. 26; Cicero Republic iii. 33; Laws i. 18-19, 22-23, 32, 61; ii. 8-11; Frag. 2; Di finibus iv. 74; v. 65, 67; Lucullus 136-37. J. von Arnim, Stoicorum veterum fragmenta iii, Frags. 327 and 334. The problem discussed in this paragraph is adumbrated in Plato's Republic by the following feature, among others: Polemarchus' definition according to which justice consists in helping the friends and hurting the enemies is preserved in the requirement regarding the guardians according to which the guardians must be similar to dogs, namely, meek to friends or acquaintances and the opposite of meek to enemies or strangers (375 2-376 l; cf. 378 7, 537 4-7; and Aristotle Politics 1328 7-11). It should be noted that it is Socrates, and not Polcmarchus, who first brings up the subject "enemies" (332 5; cf. also 335 6-7) and that Polcmarchus appears as witness for Socrates in the latter's discussion with Thrasymachus in which Clitopho appears as witness for Thrasymachus (340 1- l; cf. Phaedrus 257 3-4). If one considers these things, one is no longer bewildered by the information supplied by the Clitopho (410 7- l), according to which the only definition of justice which Socrates himself suggested to Clitopho is the one which in the Republic Polemarchus suggests with the assistance of Socrates. Many interpreters of Plato do not sufficiently consider the possibility that his Soctates was as much concerned with understanding what justice is, i.e., with understanding the whole complexity of the problem of justice, as with preaching justice. For if one is concerned with understanding the problem of justice, one must go through the stage in which justice presents itself as identical with citizen-morality, and one must not merely rush through that stage. One may express the conclusion of the argument sketched in this paragraph by saying that there cannot be true justice if there is no divine rule or providence. One would not reasonably expect much virtue or much justice of men who live habitually in a condition of extreme scarcity so that they have to fight with one another constantly for the sake of mere survival. If there is to be justice among men, care must be taken that they are not compelled to think constantly of mere self-preservation and to act toward their fellows in the way in which men mostly act under such conditions. But such care cannot be human providence. The cause of justice is infinitely strengthened if the condition of man as man, and hence especially the condition of man in the beginning (when he could not yet have been corrupted by false opinions), was one of nonscarcity. There is then a profound kinship between the notion of natural law and the notion of a perfect beginning: the golden age or the Garden of Eden. Cf. Plato Laws 713 2- 2, as well as Statesman 271 3272 l and 272 6-273 l: the rule of God was accompanied by plenty and peace; scarcity leads to war. Cf. Statesman 274 5 ff. with Protagoras 322 8 ff. d

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T h i s solution to the problem of justice o b v i o u s l y transcends 26

the l i m i t s of p o l i t i c a l l i f e . It i m p l i e s t h a t the justice w h i c h is possible w i t h i n the c i t y , can be o n l y imperfect or cannot be u n q u e s t i o n a b l y good. There are s t i l l other reasons w h i c h force men to seek beyond the p o l i t i c a l sphere for perfect justice or, more g e n e r a l l y , for the life t h a t is t r u l y according to n a ture. It is not possible here to do more t h a n b a r e l y to indicate these reasons. In the first p l a c e , the w i s e do not desire to r u l e ; t h e y must therefore be compelled to r u l e . T h e y must be compelled because t h e i r w h o l e life is devoted to the pursuit of something w h i c h i s a b s o l u t e l y h i g h e r i n d i g n i t y t h a n a n y h u m a n t h i n g s — t h e unchangeable t r u t h . And it appears to be a g a i n s t n a t u r e t h a t the l o w e r should be preferred to t h e h i g h e r . If s t r i v i n g for k n o w l e d g e of the eternal truth is the u l t i m a t e end of m a n , justice and m o r a l v i r t u e in general can be f u l l y l e g i t i m a t e d o n l y by the fact t h a t t h e y are required for t h e s a k e of t h a t u l t i m a t e end or t h a t t h e y are conditions of the p h i l o s o p h i c life. From t h i s point of v i e w the man w h o is m e r e l y just or m o r a l w i t h o u t being a philosopher appears as a m u t i l a t e d h u m a n being. It t h u s becomes a question w h e t h e r the moral or just man w h o is not a philosopher is s i m p l y superior to t h e nonphilosophic " e r o t i c " man. It l i k e w i s e becomes a question w h e t h e r justice and m o r a l i t y in general, in so far as t h e y are required for the s a k e of the p h i l o s o p h i c life, are i d e n t i c a l , as r e g a r d s both t h e i r m e a n i n g and t h e i r extension, w i t h justice and m o r a l i t y a s t h e y are commonly understood, or w h e t h e r m o r a l i t y does not h a v e t w o e n t i r e l y different roots, o r w h e t h e r w h a t A r i s t o t l e c a l l s moral v i r t u e i s not, i n fact, m e r e l y p o l i t i c a l or v u l g a r v i r t u e . The l a t t e r question can also be expressed by a s k i n g w h e t h e r , by transforming opinion about m o r a l i t y into k n o w l e d g e of m o r a l i t y , one does not 2 5 . Cicero Laws i. 61-62; iii. 13-14; De finibus iv. 7, 2 2 , 74; Lucullus 136-37; Seneca Ep. 68. 2 .

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transcend the dimension of m o r a l i t y in t h e p o l i t i c a l l y r e l e v a n t sense of the t e r m . H o w e v e r t h i s m a y be, both t h e o b v i o u s dependence of the p h i l o s o p h i c life on the c i t y and the n a t u r a l affection w h i c h men h a v e for men, and e s p e c i a l l y for t h e i r k i n , regardless of w h e t h e r or not these men h a v e " g o o d n a t u r e s " or are potent i a l philosophers, m a k e it necessary for the philosopher to descend a g a i n i n t o t h e c a v e , i . e . , to t a k e care of the affairs of the c i t y , w h e t h e r in a direct or more remote manner. In descending into t h e c a v e , the p h i l o s o p h e r a d m i t s t h a t w h a t i s i n t r i n s i c a l l y or by nature the h i g h e s t is not the most urgent for m a n , w h o i s e s s e n t i a l l y a n " i n - b e t w e e n " being—between t h e brutes and t h e g o d s . W h e n a t t e m p t i n g t o g u i d e t h e c i t y , he k n o w s then in advance t h a t , in order to be useful or good for the c i t y , t h e requirements of w i s d o m must be qualified or d i l u t e d . If these requirements are i d e n t i c a l w i t h n a t u r a l r i g h t o r w i t h n a t u r a l l a w , n a t u r a l r i g h t o r n a t u r a l l a w must b e d i l u t e d in order to become compatible w i t h the requirements of the c i t y . The c i t y requires t h a t w i s d o m be reconciled w i t h consent. But to a d m i t the n e c e s s i t y of consent, i . e . , of the consent of the u n w i s e , amounts to a d m i t t i n g a r i g h t of u n w i s d o m , i . e . , a n i r r a t i o n a l , i f i n e v i t a b l e , r i g h t . C i v i l life requires a fundamental compromise between w i s d o m and f o l l y , and t h i s means a compromise between the n a t u r a l r i g h t t h a t is discerned by reason or understanding and the r i g h t t h a t is based on opinion a l o n e . C i v i l life requires the d i l u t i o n of n a t 26

26. Plato Republic 486 6-13, 519 7- 7, 520"4-521 ll, 619 7- 1 Phaedo 8 2 1 0 - l ; Theaetetus 174 4- 6; Laws 804 5- l. As for the problem of the relation between justice and eros, one has to compare the Gorgias as a whole with the Phaedrus as a whole. An attempt in this direction was made by David Grene, Man in His Pride: A Study in the Political Philosophy of Thucydides and Plato (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1950), pp. 137-46 (cf. Social Research, 1951, pp. 394-97). Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1177 2534, 16-18, 1178 9- 21; Eudemian Ethics 1248 10-1249 25. Compare Politics 1325 24-30 with the parallelism between the justice of the individual and the justice of the city in the Republic. Cicero Offices i. 28; iii. 13-17; Republic i. 28; De finibus i i i . 48; iv. 22; cf. also Republic vi. 29 with i i i . 11; Thomas Aquinas Summa theologica ii. 1 . qu. 58, a. 4-5b

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u r a l r i g h t b y m e r e l y conventional r i g h t . N a t u r a l r i g h t w o u l d act as d y n a m i t e for c i v i l society. In other w o r d s , the s i m p l y good, w h i c h i s w h a t i s good b y nature and w h i c h i s r a d i c a l l y distinct from the ancestral, must be transformed into the pol i t i c a l l y g o o d , w h i c h i s , a s i t w e r e , the quotient o f the s i m p l y good and the a n c e s t r a l : the p o l i t i c a l l y good i s w h a t " r e m o v e s a v a s t mass of e v i l w i t h o u t shocking a v a s t mass of prejud i c e . " It is in t h i s necessity t h a t the need for inexactness in p o l i t i c a l o r m o r a l matters i s p a r t l y founded. 27

The notion t h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t must be d i l u t e d in order to become c o m p a t i b l e w i t h c i v i l society i s t h e p h i l o s o p h i c root of the l a t e r distinction between the p r i m e v a l n a t u r a l r i g h t and the secondary n a t u r a l r i g h t . T h i s distinction w a s l i n k e d w i t h the v i e w t h a t the p r i m e v a l n a t u r a l r i g h t , w h i c h excludes priv a t e property and other characteristic features of c i v i l society, belonged to m a n ' s o r i g i n a l state of innocence, w h e r e a s the secondary n a t u r a l r i g h t is needed after man h a s become corrupted, as a r e m e d y for h i s corruption. We must not o v e r l o o k , h o w e v e r , t h e difference between the notion t h a t n a t u r a l right must be d i l u t e d and the notion of a secondary n a t u r a l r i g h t . If the principles v a l i d in c i v i l society are diluted n a t u r a l r i g h t , t h e y are much less venerable t h a n if t h e y are regarded as seco n d a r y n a t u r a l r i g h t , i . e . , a s d i v i n e l y established and i n v o l v i n g an absolute d u t y for fallen m a n . O n l y in t h e l a t t e r case is justice, as it is commonly understood, unquestionably g o o d . Only in the l a t t e r case does n a t u r a l r i g h t in the strict sense or the p r i m a r y n a t u r a l r i g h t cease to be d y n a m i t e for c i v i l society. 28

Cicero h a s embodied i n h i s w r i t i n g s , e s p e c i a l l y i n the t h i r d book of h i s Republic and in the first t w o books of h i s Laws, a 27. Plato Republic 414 8-415 5 (cf. 331 l-3), 501 9- 2 (cf. 500 2- 8 and 484 8- 3); Laws 739, 757 5-758 2; Cicero Republic ii. 57. b

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28. Cf. R. Stintzing, Geschichte der deutschen Rechtswissenschaft, I (Munich and Leipzig, 1880), pp. 302 ff., 307, 371; see also, e.g., Hooker, Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, Book I, chap, x, sec. 13.

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m i t i g a t e d version o f the o r i g i n a l Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g . H a r d l y a n y trace of the connection between stoicism and cynicism is left in h i s presentation. N a t u r a l l a w as presented by h i m does not seem to have to be d i l u t e d in order to become compatible w i t h c i v i l society; it seems to be in n a t u r a l h a r m o n y w i t h c i v i l society. A c c o r d i n g l y , w h a t one i s tempted t o c a l l the " C i c e r o n i a n n a t u r a l - l a w t e a c h i n g " comes closer to w h a t is regarded at present by some scholars as the t y p i c a l premodern n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g t h a n a n y e a r l i e r doctrine o f w h i c h we h a v e more t h a n fragments. It is therefore of some importance t h a t Cicero's a t t i t u d e t o w a r d the t e a c h i n g in question be not m i s u n d e r s t o o d . 29

In the Laws, in w h i c h Cicero and h i s companions seek the shade and in w h i c h Cicero himself presents the Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g , he i n d i c a t e s t h a t he is not certain of the truth of t h a t doctrine. T h i s i s not surprising. T h e Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g is based on the doctrine of d i v i n e providence and on an anthropocentric t e l e o l o g y . In h i s On the Nature of the Gods Cicero subjects t h a t t h e o l o g i c a l - t e l e o l o g i c a l doctrine to severe c r i t i c i s m , w i t h the result t h a t he cannot a d m i t it as more t h a n approaching the semblance of t r u t h . S i m i l a r l y , he accepts in the Laws the Stoic doctrine of d i v i n a t i o n ( w h i c h is a branch of the Stoic doctrine of p r o v i d e n c e ) , w h i l e he a t t a c k s it in the second book of h i s On Divination. One of the interlocutors in the Laws is Cicero's friend A t t i c u s , w h o assents to the Stoic n a t u r a l l a w doctrine but w h o , being an Epicurean, cannot h a v e assented to it because he regarded it as true or in h i s c a p a c i t y as t h i n k e r ; he rather assented to it in h i s c a p a c i t y as Roman citizen and more p a r t i c u l a r l y as an adherent of aristocr a c y , because he regarded it as p o l i t i c a l l y s a l u t a r y . It is reasonable to assume t h a t Cicero's s e e m i n g l y unqualified acceptance of the Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g h a s t h e same m o t i v a t i o n as A t t i c u s ' . Cicero himself s a y s t h a t he w r o t e d i a l o g u e s in order 29. Sec, e.g., De finibus iii. 64-67.


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not to present h i s real v i e w s too openly. After a l l , he w a s an A c a d e m i c s k e p t i c and not a Stoic. And the t h i n k e r w h o m he c l a i m s t o f o l l o w , and w h o m h e admires most, i s P l a t o h i m self, the founder of the A c a d e m y . The l e a s t t h a t must be said is t h a t Cicero did not regard the Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g , in so far as it goes beyond P l a t o ' s t e a c h i n g of n a t u r a l r i g h t , as evidently true. In the Republic, in w h i c h the interlocutors seek the sun and w h i c h is a d m i t t e d l y a free i m i t a t i o n of P l a t o ' s Republic, the Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g , or the defense of justice ( i . e . , t h e proof t h a t justice is by nature g o o d ) , is not presented by the chief character. Scipio, w h o occupies in Cicero's w o r k the position w h i c h Socrates occupies in the Platonic model, is f u l l y convinced of t h e smallness of a l l h u m a n t h i n g s and therefore l o n g s for the c o n t e m p l a t i v e life to be enjoyed after d e a t h . T h a t version of the Stoic n a t u r a l l a w teaching-—the exoteric vers i o n — w h i c h is in perfect h a r m o n y w i t h the claims of c i v i l soc i e t y , is intrusted to L a e l i u s , w h o is distrustful of p h i l o s o p h y in the full and strict sense of the term and w h o is a b s o l u t e l y at home on e a r t h , in R o m e ; he is s i t t i n g in the center, i m i t a t i n g the e a r t h . L a e l i u s goes so far as to find no difficulty in reconc i l i n g n a t u r a l l a w w i t h the c l a i m s o f the Roman Empire i n p a r t i c u l a r . S c i p i o , h o w e v e r , indicates the o r i g i n a l and u n m i t i gated Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g , w h i c h i s incompatible w i t h the c l a i m s of c i v i l society. He l i k e w i s e indicates h o w much of force and fraud w a s required for m a k i n g Rome g r e a t : the Roman r e g i m e , w h i c h is the best regime in existence, is not s i m p l y just. H e t h u s seems t o indicate t h a t " t h e n a t u r a l l a w " o n w h i c h c i v i l society can act i s , i n t r u t h , n a t u r a l l a w diluted by a l o w e r p r i n c i p l e . The case a g a i n s t the n a t u r a l character of r i g h t i s made b y P h i l u s , w h o i s a n Academic skeptic, l i k e 30

30. Laws i. 15, 18, 19, 21, 2 2 , 2 5 , 3 2 , 35, 37-39, 54, 56; ii. 14, 32-34, 38-39; i i i . l , 26, 37; Republic ii. 28; iv. 4; De natura deorum ii. 133 ff.; iii. 66 ft., 95; De divinatione ii. 70 ft.; Offices i. 22; De finibus i i . 45; Tusc. Disp. v. 11. Compare n. 24 above with chap, iii, n. 2 2 .

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NATURAL RIGHT AND HISTORY 31

Cicero h i m s e l f . It is then m i s l e a d i n g to c a l l Cicero an adherent of the Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g . T o turn n o w t o the A r i s t o t e l i a n n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g , w e h a v e to note first t h a t the o n l y t h e m a t i c treatment of n a t u r a l right which is certainly by Aristotle and which certainly expresses A r i s t o t l e ' s o w n v i e w covers b a r e l y one p a g e of the Nicomachean Ethics. In a d d i t i o n , the p a s s a g e is s i n g u l a r l y elus i v e ; it is not i l l u m i n e d by a s i n g l e e x a m p l e of w h a t is by nature r i g h t . T h i s m u c h , h o w e v e r , can safely be s a i d : according to A r i s t o t l e , there is no fundamental disproportion bet w e e n n a t u r a l r i g h t and the requirements of p o l i t i c a l society, or there is no essential need for the d i l u t i o n of n a t u r a l r i g h t . In t h i s , as w e l l as in m a n y other respects, A r i s t o t l e opposes the divine madness of P l a t o and, by a n t i c i p a t i o n , the paradoxes of the Stoics, in t h e spirit of h i s u n r i v a l e d sobriety. A r i g h t w h i c h necessarily transcends p o l i t i c a l society, he g i v e s us to understand, cannot be the r i g h t n a t u r a l to m a n , w h o is by nature a p o l i t i c a l a n i m a l . Plato never discusses a n y subject—be it the c i t y or the heavens or n u m b e r s — w i t h o u t keeping in v i e w the e l e m e n t a r y Socratic question, " W h a t i s the r i g h t w a y of l i f e ? ' ' A n d the s i m p l y r i g h t w a y of life proves to be the philosophic life. P l a t o e v e n t u a l l y defines n a t u r a l r i g h t w i t h direct reference to the fact t h a t the o n l y life w h i c h is s i m p l y just is the life of the philosopher. A r i s t o t l e , on the other h a n d , treats each of the v a r i o u s levels of b e i n g s , and hence e s p e c i a l l y e v e r y l e v e l of h u m a n life, on i t s o w n t e r m s . W h e n he discusses justice, he discusses justice as everyone k n o w s it and as it is understood in p o l i t i c a l life, and he refuses to be d r a w n into the d i a l e c t i c a l w h i r l p o o l t h a t carries us far beyond justice in the o r d i n a r y sense of the term t o w a r d t h e p h i l o s o p h i c life. Not t h a t he denies t h e u l t i m a t e r i g h t of t h a t d i a l e c t i c a l process or the tension between the requirements of p h i l o s o p h y and those 31. Republic i. 18, 19, 26-28, 30, 56-57; iii. 8-9; iv. 4; vi. 17-18; cf. ibid. ii. 4, 12, 15, 20, 22, 26-27, 31, 53, with i. 62; i i i . 20-22, 24, 3 1 , 35-36; cf. also De finibus i i . 59.


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of the c i t y ; he k n o w s t h a t the s i m p l y best regime belongs to an e n t i r e l y different epoch t h a n f u l l y developed p h i l o s o p h y . But he i m p l i e s t h a t the intermediate stages of t h a t process, w h i l e not a b s o l u t e l y consistent, are sufficiently consistent for a l l p r a c t i c a l purposes. It is true t h a t those stages can exist o n l y in a t w i l i g h t , but t h i s is a sufficient reason for the a n a l y s t — and e s p e c i a l l y for the a n a l y s t w h o s e p r i m a r y concern is w i t h g u i d i n g h u m a n actions—to l e a v e t h e m in t h a t t w i l i g h t . In the t w i l i g h t w h i c h i s essential t o human life a s m e r e l y h u m a n , the justice w h i c h m a y be a v a i l a b l e in the c i t i e s appears to be perfect justice a n d u n q u e s t i o n a b l y g o o d ; there is no need for the d i l u t i o n o f n a t u r a l r i g h t . A r i s t o t l e s a y s , then, s i m p l y t h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t is a part of p o l i t i c a l r i g h t . T h i s does not mean t h a t there is no n a t u r a l r i g h t outside the c i t y or prior to t h e c i t y . To s a y n o t h i n g of the relations between parents and c h i l dren, the r e l a t i o n of justice t h a t o b t a i n s between t w o complete strangers w h o meet on a desert i s l a n d is not one of p o l i t i c a l justice and i s nevertheless determined b y nature. W h a t A r i s t o t l e s u g g e s t s is t h a t the most f u l l y developed form of n a t u r a l r i g h t i s t h a t w h i c h o b t a i n s among fellow-citizens; o n l y among fellow-citizens do the r e l a t i o n s w h i c h are the subject m a t t e r of r i g h t or justice reach t h e i r greatest d e n s i t y and, indeed, t h e i r full g r o w t h . The second assertion r e g a r d i n g n a t u r a l r i g h t w h i c h A r i s totle m a k e s — a n assertion much more surprising t h a n the first — i s t h a t a l l n a t u r a l r i g h t i s c h a n g e a b l e . According t o T h o m a s A q u i n a s , t h i s statement must be understood w i t h a qualificat i o n : t h e p r i n c i p l e s of n a t u r a l r i g h t , the a x i o m s from w h i c h the more specific rules of n a t u r a l r i g h t are derived, are univers a l l y v a l i d a n d i m m u t a b l e ; w h a t are m u t a b l e are o n l y the more specific rules (e.g., the rule to return d e p o s i t s ) . The T h o m i s t i c interpretation is connected w i t h the v i e w t h a t there is a habitus of p r a c t i c a l principles, a habitus w h i c h he c a l l s " c o n s c i e n c e " or, more p r e c i s e l y , synderesis. The v e r y terms s h o w

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t h a t t h i s v i e w is a l i e n to A r i s t o t l e ; it is of Patristic o r i g i n . In a d d i t i o n , A r i s t o t l e s a y s e x p l i c i t l y t h a t a l l right—hence also a l l n a t u r a l r i g h t — i s c h a n g e a b l e ; h e does not qualify t h a t statement i n a n y w a y . There exists a n a l t e r n a t i v e mediev a l interpretation of A r i s t o t l e ' s doctrine, n a m e l y , the Averroistic v i e w or, more a d e q u a t e l y stated, the v i e w characteristic of the falasifa ( i . e . , of the Islamic A r i s t o t e l i a n s ) as w e l l as of the J e w i s h A r i s t o t e l i a n s . T h i s v i e w w a s set forth w i t h i n the C h r i s t i a n w o r l d by M a r s i l i u s of Padua and presumably by other C h r i s t i a n or L a t i n Averroists. According to Averroes, Aristotle understands b y n a t u r a l r i g h t " l e g a l n a t u r a l r i g h t . " Or, as M a r s i l i u s puts i t , n a t u r a l r i g h t is o n l y q u a s i - n a t u r a l ; a c t u a l l y , it depends on human i n s t i t u t i o n or convention; but it is d i s t i n g u i s h e d from m e r e l y p o s i t i v e r i g h t by the fact t h a t it is based on u b i q u i t o u s convention. In a l l c i v i l societies the same broad rules of w h a t constitutes justice necessarily g r o w up. T h e y specify the m i n i m u m requirements of society; t h e y correspond r o u g h l y to the Second Table of the Decalogue but include the command of divine w o r s h i p . In spite of the fact t h a t t h e y seem to be e v i d e n t l y necessary and are univers a l l y recognized, t h e y are conventional for t h i s reason: C i v i l society i s incompatible w i t h a n y i m m u t a b l e rules, h o w e v e r basic; for in certain conditions the disregard of these rules m a y be needed for the preservation of s o c i e t y ; but, for p e d a g o g i c reasons, society must present as u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d certain rules w h i c h are g e n e r a l l y v a l i d . Since the rules in question obtain n o r m a l l y , a l l social t e a c h i n g s proclaim these rules and not the rare exceptions. The effectiveness of t h e general rules depends on t h e i r being t a u g h t w i t h o u t qualifications, w i t h o u t ifs and buts. But the omission of the qualifications w h i c h m a k e s the rules more effective, m a k e s them at the same time untrue. The unqualified rules are not n a t u r a l r i g h t but conventional r i g h t . 3 2

32. Sec L. Strauss, Persecution and the Art of Writing (Glencoe, 111.: Free Press, 1952), pp. 95-141.

CLASSIC NATURAL RIGHT This v i e w of n a t u r a l r i g h t agrees w i t h A r i s t o t l e in so far as it a d m i t s the m u t a b i l i t y of a l l rules of justice. But it differs from A r i s t o t l e ' s v i e w in so far as it i m p l i e s the denial of n a t u r a l r i g h t proper. H o w , then, can we find a safe middle road between these formidable opponents, Averroes and Thomas? One is tempted to m a k e the f o l l o w i n g suggestion: W h e n speaking of n a t u r a l r i g h t , Aristotle does not p r i m a r i l y t h i n k of a n y general propositions but rather of concrete decisions. A l l action is concerned w i t h p a r t i c u l a r situations. Hence j u s tice and n a t u r a l r i g h t reside, as it w e r e , in concrete decisions r ath er t h a n in general rules. It is much easier to see c l e a r l y , in most cases, t h a t t h i s p a r t i c u l a r act of k i l l i n g w a s just than to state c l e a r l y the specific difference between just k i l l i n g s as such and unjust k i l l i n g s as such. A l a w w h i c h solves j u s t l y a problem p e c u l i a r to a given country at a given time m a y be said to be just to a h i g h e r degree than a n y general rule of natu r a l l a w w h i c h , because of i t s g e n e r a l i t y , m a y prevent a just decision in a g i v e n case. In every h u m a n conflict there exi s t s the p o s s i b i l i t y of a just decision based on full consideration of a l l the circumstances, a decision demanded by the s i t u a t i o n . N a t u r a l r i g h t consists of such decisions. N a t u r a l r i g h t t hus understood is o b v i o u s l y m u t a b l e . Y e t one can h a r d l y deny t h a t in a l l concrete decisions general principles are i mpl i ed and presupposed. A r i s t o t l e recognized the existence of such principles, e.g., of those principles w h i c h he stated w h e n s p e a k i n g of " c o m m u t a t i v e " and " d i s t r i b u t i v e " justice. S i m i l a r l y , h i s discussion of the n a t u r a l character of the c i t y (a discussion w h i c h deals w i t h the questions of principle raised by anarchism and pacifism), to s a y n o t h i n g of h i s discussion of s l a v e r y , is an attempt to establish principles of r i g h t . These principles w o u l d seem to be u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d or unchangeable. W h a t , then, does A r i s t o t l e mean by s a y i n g t h a t a l l natural r i g h t is changeable? Or w h y does n a t u r a l r i g h t u l t i m a t e l y reside in concrete decisions ra the r than in general rules?

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There is a m e a n i n g of justice w h i c h is not exhausted by t h e principles of c o m m u t a t i v e and d i s t r i b u t i v e justice in p a r t i c u l a r . Prior to being the c o m m u t a t i v e l y and d i s t r i b u t i v e l y just, the just is the common good. The common good consists norm a l l y in w h a t is required by c o m m u t a t i v e and d i s t r i b u t i v e justice or by other m o r a l principles of t h i s k i n d or in w h a t is comp a t i b l e w i t h these requirements. But the common good also comprises, of course, the mere existence, the mere s u r v i v a l , the mere independence, of the p o l i t i c a l c o m m u n i t y in question. Let us c a l l an extreme s i t u a t i o n a s i t u a t i o n in w h i c h the v e r y existence or independence of a society is at s t a k e . In extreme situations there m a y be conflicts between w h a t the self-preservation of society requires and the requirements of commutat i v e and d i s t r i b u t i v e justice. In such s i t u a t i o n s , and o n l y in such s i t u a t i o n s , it can j u s t l y be s a i d t h a t the public safety is the h i g h e s t l a w . A decent society w i l l not go to w a r except for a just cause. But w h a t it w i l l do during a w a r w i l l depend to a certain extent on w h a t the enemy—possibly an a b s o l u t e l y unscrupulous and s a v a g e enemy—forces it to do. There are no l i m i t s w h i c h can be defined in advance, there are no a s s i g n a b l e l i m i t s t o w h a t m i g h t become just r e p r i s a l s . But w a r casts i t s s h a d o w on peace. The most just society cannot survive w i t h out " i n t e l l i g e n c e , " i . e . , espionage. Espionage is impossible w i t h o u t a suspension of certain rules of n a t u r a l r i g h t . But societies are not o n l y threatened from w i t h o u t . Considerations w h i c h a p p l y t o foreign enemies m a y w e l l a p p l y t o subversive elements w i t h i n society. Let us l e a v e these sad exigencies covered w i t h the v e i l w i t h w h i c h t h e y are j u s t l y covered. It suffices to repeat t h a t in extreme s i t u a t i o n s the n o r m a l l y v a l i d rules of n a t u r a l r i g h t are j u s t l y c h a n g e d , or changed in accordance w i t h n a t u r a l r i g h t ; the exceptions are as just as the r u l e s . And A r i s t o t l e seems to suggest t h a t there is not a single r u l e , h o w e v e r basic, w h i c h is not subject to exception. One could s a y t h a t in a l l cases the common good must be preferred to the


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p r i v a t e g o o d and t h a t t h i s rule suffers no exception. But t h i s rule does not s a y more t h a n t h a t justice must be observed, and w e are a n x i o u s t o k n o w w h a t i t i s t h a t i s required b y justice o r the common good. By s a y i n g t h a t in extreme s i t u a t i o n s t h e public safety i s t h e h i g h e s t l a w , one i m p l i e s t h a t the p u b l i c safety i s not the h i g h e s t l a w i n normal s i t u a t i o n s ; i n normal s i t u a t i o n s t h e h i g h e s t l a w s are the common rules of j u s t i c e . J u s t i c e h a s t w o different principles or sets of p r i n c i p l e s : the requirements of public safety, or w h a t is necessary in extreme s i t u a t i o n s to preserve the mere existence or independence of society, on t h e one h a n d , and the rules of justice in the more precise sense, on the other. And there is no principle w h i c h defines c l e a r l y in w h a t type of cases the public safety, and in w h a t t y p e of cases the precise rules of justice, h a v e p r i o r i t y . For it is not possible to define p r e c i s e l y w h a t constitutes an extreme s i t u a t i o n in contradistinction to a normal s i t u a t i o n . Every dangerous external or i n t e r n a l enemy is inventive to the extent t h a t he is capable of transforming w h a t , on the basis of previous experience, could r e a s o n a b l y be regarded as a normal s i t u a t i o n i n t o an extreme s i t u a t i o n . N a t u r a l r i g h t must be m u t a b l e in order to be able to cope w i t h the inventiveness of w i c k e d n e s s . W h a t cannot be decided in advance by universal r u l e s , w h a t can be decided in the c r i t i c a l moment by the most competent and most conscientious statesman on the spot, can be made v i s i b l e as just, in retrospect, to a l l ; the objective d i s c r i m i n a t i o n between extreme actions w h i c h were just and e x treme actions w h i c h w e r e unjust is one of the noblest duties of the h i s t o r i a n . 33

It is i m p o r t a n t t h a t the difference between the A r i s t o t e l i a n v i e w of n a t u r a l r i g h t and M a c h i a v e l l i a n i s m be c l e a r l y under33. As for the other principles of right which Aristotle recognized, it must suffice here to note that, according to him, a man who is not capable of being a member of civil society is not necessarily a defective human being; on the contrary, he may be a superior human being.

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stood. M a c h i a v e l l i denies n a t u r a l r i g h t , because h e t a k e s h i s bearings by the extreme situations in w h i c h the demands of justice are reduced to the requirements of necessity, and not by the normal s i t u a t i o n s in w h i c h the demands of justice in the strict sense are the h i g h e s t l a w . Furthermore, he does not h a v e to overcome a reluctance as regards t h e deviations from w h a t is n o r m a l l y r i g h t . On the contrary, he seems to derive no s m a l l enjoyment from contemplating these d e v i a t i o n s , and he is not concerned w i t h the p u n c t i l i o u s i n v e s t i g a t i o n of w h e t h e r a n y p a r t i c u l a r d e v i a t i o n is r e a l l y necessary or not. The true statesman in the A r i s t o t e l i a n sense, on the other h a n d , t a k e s h i s bearings b y t h e normal situation a n d b y w h a t i s n o r m a l l y r i g h t , and he r e l u c t a n t l y deviates from w h a t is n o r m a l l y r i g h t o n l y in order to save the cause of justice and h u m a n i t y itself. No l e g a l expression of t h i s difference can be found. Its p o l i t i c a l importance is obvious. The t w o opposite extremes, w h i c h at present are c a l l e d " c y n i c i s m " and " i d e a l i s m , " combine in order to blur t h i s difference. And, as everyone can see, t h e y h a v e not been unsuccessful. The v a r i a b i l i t y of the demands of t h a t justice w h i c h men can practice w a s recognized not o n l y by A r i s t o t l e but by P l a t o as w e l l . Both avoided the Scylla of " a b s o l u t i s m " and the C h a r y b d i s of " r e l a t i v i s m " by h o l d i n g a v i e w w h i c h one m a y venture to express as f o l l o w s : There is a u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d h i e r a r c h y of ends, but there are no u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d rules of action. Not to repeat w h a t h a s been i n d i c a t e d before, w h e n deciding w h a t o u g h t to be done, i . e . , w h a t o u g h t to be done b y t h i s i n d i v i d u a l ( o r t h i s i n d i v i d u a l g r o u p ) here and n o w , one h a s to consider not o n l y w h i c h of the various competing objectives is h i g h e r in r a n k but also w h i c h is most urgent in the circumstances. W h a t is most urgent is l e g i t i m a t e l y preferred to w h a t is less urgent, and the most urgent is in m a n y cases l o w e r in r a n k t h a n the less urgent. But one cannot m a k e a universal rule t h a t urgency is a h i g h e r consideration t h a n


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r a n k . For it is our d u t y to m a k e the h i g h e s t a c t i v i t y , as much as we can, t h e most urgent or the most needful t h i n g . And the m a x i m u m of effort w h i c h can be expected necessarily v a r i e s from i n d i v i d u a l to i n d i v i d u a l . The o n l y u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d standard is t h e h i e r a r c h y of ends. T h i s standard is sufficient for passing j u d g m e n t on the level of n o b i l i t y of i n d i v i d u a l s a n d groups and of actions and i n s t i t u t i o n s . But it is insufficient for g u i d i n g our a c t i o n s . The T h o m i s t i c doctrine of n a t u r a l r i g h t or, more g e n e r a l l y expressed, of n a t u r a l l a w is free from the h e s i t a t i o n s and a m b i g u i t i e s w h i c h are characteristic of the t e a c h i n g s , not o n l y of P l a t o and Cicero, but of A r i s t o t l e as w e l l . In definiteness and noble s i m p l i c i t y it even surpasses the m i t i g a t e d Stoic n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g . No doubt is left, not o n l y r e g a r d i n g the basic h a r m o n y between n a t u r a l r i g h t and c i v i l society, but l i k e w i s e r e g a r d i n g t h e i m m u t a b l e character of the fundamental propositions of n a t u r a l l a w ; the principles of the m o r a l l a w , espec i a l l y as formulated in the Second Table of the Decalogue, suffer no exception, unless p o s s i b l y by divine intervention. The doctrine of synderesis or of the conscience explains w h y the n a t u r a l l a w can a l w a y s b e d u l y p r o m u l g a t e d t o a l l men and hence be u n i v e r s a l l y o b l i g a t o r y . It is reasonable to assume t h a t these profound changes were due to the influence of the belief in b i b l i c a l r e v e l a t i o n . If t h i s assumption should prove to be correct, one w o u l d be forced to w o n d e r , h o w e v e r , w h e t h e r the n a t u r a l l a w a s T h o m a s A q u i n a s understands i t i s n a t u r a l l a w s t r i c t l y s p e a k i n g , i . e . , a l a w k n o w a b l e t o the unassisted h u m a n m i n d , to the human mind w h i c h is not i l l u m i n e d by divine r e v e l a t i o n . T h i s doubt is strengthened by the f o l l o w i n g consideration: The n a t u r a l l a w w h i c h i s k n o w a b l e t o the unassisted h u m a n mind and w h i c h prescribes chiefly actions in the strict sense is related t o , or founded upon, the n a t u r a l end of m a n ; t h a t end is t w o f o l d : moral perfection and i n t e l l e c t u a l perfection; i n t e l l e c t u a l perfection is h i g h e r in d i g n i t y t h a n

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m o r a l perfection; but i n t e l l e c t u a l perfection or w i s d o m , as unassisted h u m a n reason k n o w s i t , does not require m o r a l v i r t u e . T h o m a s solves t h i s difficulty by v i r t u a l l y contending t h a t , according to n a t u r a l reason, t h e n a t u r a l end of m a n is insufficient, or points beyond itself or, more precisely, t h a t t h e end of man cannot consist in p h i l o s o p h i c i n v e s t i g a t i o n , to s a y nothing of p o l i t i c a l a c t i v i t y . Thus n a t u r a l reason itself creates a presumption in favor of the divine l a w , w h i c h completes or perfects the n a t u r a l l a w . A t a n y r a t e , t h e u l t i m a t e consequence o f the T h o m i s t i c v i e w o f n a t u r a l l a w i s t h a t n a t u r a l l a w i s p r a c t i c a l l y inseparable not o n l y from n a t u r a l t h e o l o g y — i . e . , from a n a t u r a l t h e o l o g y w h i c h i s , in fact, based on belief in b i b l i c a l revelation—but even from revealed t h e o l o g y . Modern n a t u r a l l a w w a s p a r t l y a reaction to t h i s absorption of n a t u r a l l a w by t h e o l o g y . The modern efforts w e r e p a r t l y based on the premise, w h i c h w o u l d h a v e been acceptable to the classics, t h a t the m o r a l principles h a v e a g r e a t e r evidence than the t e a c h i n g s even of n a t u r a l t h e o l o g y a n d , therefore, t h a t n a t u r a l l a w or n a t u r a l r i g h t should be kept independent of t h e o l o g y and i t s controversies. The second i m p o r t a n t respect in w h i c h modern p o l i t i c a l t h o u g h t returned to t h e classics by opposing the T h o m i s t i c v i e w is i l l u s t r a t e d by such issues as the i n d i s s o l u b i l i t y of m a r r i a g e and birth control. A w o r k l i k e M o n tesquieu's Spirit of Laws is misunderstood if one disregards the fact t h a t it is directed a g a i n s t the T h o m i s t i c v i e w of n a t u r a l r i g h t . M o n t e s q u i e u tried to recover for statesmanship a l a t i tude w h i c h h a d been considerably restricted by the T h o m i s t i c teaching. What Montesquieu's private thoughts were w i l l alw a y s remain controversial. But i t i s safe t o s a y t h a t w h a t h e e x p l i c i t l y teaches, as a student of politics and as p o l i t i c a l l y sound and r i g h t , is nearer in spirit to the classics t h a n to Thomas.

MODERN NATURAL RIGHT

T

HE most famous and the most influential of a l l modern n a t u r a l r i g h t teachers w a s J o h n L o c k e . But Locke m a k e s it p a r t i c u l a r l y difficult for us to recognize h o w modern he is or h o w much he deviates from the n a t u r a l right t r a d i t i o n . He w a s an e m i n e n t l y prudent m a n , and he reaped the r e w a r d of superior prudence: he w a s listened to by m a n y people, and he w i e l d e d an e x t r a o r d i n a r i l y g r e a t influence on men of affairs and on a l a r g e body of opinion. But it is of the essence of prudence t h a t one k n o w w h e n to speak and w h e n to be silent. K n o w i n g t h i s v e r y w e l l , Locke h a d the good sense to quote o n l y the r i g h t k i n d of w r i t e r s and to be silent about the w r o n g k i n d , a l t h o u g h he h a d more in common, in the l a s t a n a l y s i s , w i t h the w r o n g k i n d t h a n w i t h the r i g h t . His a u t h o r i t y seems to be R i c h a r d Hooker, the g r e a t A n g l i c a n d i v i n e , distinguished by e l e v a t i o n of sentiment and sobriety; " t h e judicious H o o k e r , " a s L o c k e , f o l l o w i n g others, l i k e s t o c a l l h i m . N o w Hooker's conception of natural r i g h t is the Thomistic conception, and the Thomistic conception, in i t s turn, goes b a c k to the Church Fathers, w h o , in t h e i r turn, w e r e p u p i l s of t h e Stoics, of t h e p u p i l s of pupils of Socrates. We are then appare n t l y confronted w i t h an unbroken t r a d i t i o n of perfect r e s p e c t a b i l i t y t h a t stretches from Socrates to Locke. But the moment we t a k e the trouble to confront L o c k e ' s t e a c h i n g as a w h o l e w i t h H o o k e r ' s t e a c h i n g a s a w h o l e , w e become a w a r e t h a t , in spite of a certain agreement between Locke and Hooker, L o c k e ' s conception of n a t u r a l r i g h t is fundamentally different from H o o k e r ' s . The notion of n a t u r a l r i g h t h a d un165

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dergone a fundamental change between H o o k e r and L o c k e . A break in the n a t u r a l r i g h t t r a d i t i o n h a d occurred on the w a y . T h i s is not surprising. The period between Hooker and Locke h a d witnessed t h e emergence of modern n a t u r a l science, of nonteleological n a t u r a l science, and t h e r e w i t h the destruction of the basis of t r a d i t i o n a l n a t u r a l r i g h t . The man w h o w a s the first to d r a w the consequences for n a t u r a l r i g h t from t h i s momentous c h a n g e w a s Thomas Hobbes—that imprudent, i m p i s h , and iconoclastic extremist, t h a t first plebeian p h i l o s o pher, w h o is so enjoyable a w r i t e r because of h i s almost boyish straightforwardness, h i s never f a i l i n g h u m a n i t y , and h i s marvelous c l a r i t y and force. He w a s deservedly punished for h i s recklessness, e s p e c i a l l y by h i s countrymen. S t i l l , he exercised a v e r y great influence on a l l subsequent p o l i t i c a l t h o u g h t , Continental and even E n g l i s h , and e s p e c i a l l y on Locke—on the judicious L o c k e , w h o j u d i c i o u s l y refrained as much as he could from mentioning Hobbes's " j u s t l y decried n a m e . " To Hobbes we must turn if we desire to understand the specific character of modern n a t u r a l r i g h t . A. HOBBES

Thomas Hobbes regarded himself as t h e founder of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y or p o l i t i c a l science. He k n e w , of course, t h a t the great honor w h i c h he claimed for himself w a s a w a r d e d , by a l most universal consent, to Socrates. Nor w a s he a l l o w e d to forg e t the notorious fact t h a t the t r a d i t i o n w h i c h Socrates h a d o r i g i n a t e d w a s s t i l l powerful i n h i s o w n a g e . But h e w a s cert a i n t h a t t r a d i t i o n a l p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y " w a s r a t h e r a dream than science." Present-day scholars are not impressed by Hobbes's c l a i m . T h e y note t h a t he w a s deeply indebted to the t r a d i t i o n w h i c h 1

1. Elements of Law, Ep. ded.; I , 1 , sec. 1; 1 3 , sec. 3, and 17, sec. 1. Decorpore, Ep. ded.; De cive, Ep. ded. and praef.; Opera Latina, I, p. xc. Leviathan, chaps, xxxi (241) and xlvi (438). In the quotations from the Leviathan, figures in parentheses indicate the pages of the "Blackwell's Political Texts" edition.


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he scorned. Some of them come close to suggesting t h a t he w a s one of the l a s t Schoolmen. Lest we overlook the wood for the trees, we s h a l l reduce for a w h i l e the significant results of present-day p o l y m a t h y into the compass of one sentence. Hobbes w a s indebted to t r a d i t i o n for a s i n g l e , but momentous, i d e a : he accepted on trust the v i e w t h a t p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y or p o l i t i c a l science is possible or necessary. To understand Hobbes's a s t o n i s h i n g c l a i m means to p a y proportionate attention to h i s e m p h a t i c rejection of the t r a d i tion, on t h e one h a n d , and to h i s almost silent agreement w i t h i t , on the other. For t h i s purpose one must first identify the t r a d i t i o n . M o r e precisely, one must first see the t r a d i t i o n as Hobbes s a w it and forget for a moment h o w it presents itself to the present-day h i s t o r i a n . Hobbes mentions the f o l l o w i n g representatives of the t r a d i t i o n by n a m e : Socrates, P l a t o , A r i s totle, Cicero, Seneca, T a c i t u s , and P l u t a r c h . He then t a c i t l y identifies t h e t r a d i t i o n of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y w i t h a p a r t i c u l a r t r a d i t i o n . H e identifies i t w i t h t h a t tradition w h o s e basic premises m a y be stated as f o l l o w s : the noble and the just are f u n d a m e n t a l l y distinguished from the pleasant and are by n a ture preferable to i t ; or, there is a n a t u r a l r i g h t t h a t is w h o l l y independent of a n y human compact or convention; or, there is a best p o l i t i c a l order w h i c h is best because it is according to nature. He identifies t r a d i t i o n a l p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y w i t h t h e quest for t h e best regime or for the s i m p l y just social order, and therefore w i t h a pursuit t h a t is p o l i t i c a l not m e r e l y because it deals w i t h p o l i t i c a l m a t t e r s but, above a l l , because it is a n i m a t e d by a p o l i t i c a l spirit. He identifies t r a d i t i o n a l p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y w i t h t h a t p a r t i c u l a r t r a d i t i o n t h a t w a s publ i c spirited or—to employ a term w h i c h is loose indeed but at present s t i l l e a s i l y i n t e l l i g i b l e — t h a t w a s " i d e a l i s t i c . " 2

W h e n s p e a k i n g of e a r l i e r p o l i t i c a l philosophers, Hobbes does not mention t h a t t r a d i t i o n w h o s e most famous represent2. De cive, praef., and XII, 3; Opera Latina, V, 358-59.

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a t i v e s m i g h t be t h o u g h t to be " t h e s o p h i s t s , " Epicurus a n d Carneades. The a n t i - i d e a l i s t i c t r a d i t i o n s i m p l y did not e x i s t for h i m — a s a t r a d i t i o n of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . For it w a s i g n o r a n t of the v e r y i d e a of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y as Hobbes understood i t . It w a s indeed concerned w i t h the nature of p o l i t i c a l t h i n g s and e s p e c i a l l y of j u s t i c e . It w a s a l s o concerned w i t h the question of the r i g h t life of the i n d i v i d u a l and therefore w i t h the question of w h e t h e r or h o w the i n d i v i d u a l could use c i v i l society for his p r i v a t e , n o n p o l i t i c a l purposes: for h i s ease or for h i s g l o r y . But it w a s not p o l i t i c a l . It w a s not public spirited. It did not preserve t h e orientation of statesmen w h i l e e n l a r g i n g t h e i r v i e w s . I t w a s not dedicated t o the concern w i t h the r i g h t order o f society a s w i t h something t h a t is c h o i c e w o r t h y for i t s o w n s a k e . > B y t a c i t l y identifying t r a d i t i o n a l p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y w i t h the i d e a l i s t i c t r a d i t i o n , Hobbes expresses, then, h i s t a c i t agreement w i t h the i d e a l i s t i c v i e w of t h e function or the scope of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . L i k e Cicero before h i m , he sides w i t h Cato a g a i n s t Carneades. He presents h i s novel doctrine as the first t r u l y scientific or p h i l o s o p h i c treatment of n a t u r a l l a w ; he agrees w i t h the Socratic t r a d i t i o n i n h o l d i n g the v i e w t h a t p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y i s concerned w i t h n a t u r a l r i g h t . H e i n tends t o s h o w " w h a t i s l a w , a s P l a t o , A r i s t o t l e , Cicero, and divers others h a v e d o n e " ; he does not refer to P r o t a g o r a s , Epicurus, or Carneades. He fears t h a t h i s Leviathan m i g h t remind h i s readers of P l a t o ' s Republic; no one could dream of comparing the Leviathan to Lucretius' De rerum natural > Hobbes rejects the i d e a l i s t i c t r a d i t i o n on the basis of a fundamental agreement w i t h i t . H e means t o d o a d e q u a t e l y w h a t the Socratic t r a d i t i o n did in a w h o l l y i n a d e q u a t e manner. He means to succeed w h e r e the Socratic t r a d i t i o n h a d failed. He traces the failure of the i d e a l i s t i c t r a d i t i o n to one fundamental 3. Elements, Ep. ded.; Leviathan, chaps, xv (94-95), xxvi (172), xxxi (241), and xlvi (437-38).


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m i s t a k e : t r a d i t i o n a l p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y assumed t h a t man i s by nature a p o l i t i c a l or social a n i m a l . By rejecting t h i s a s sumption, Hobbes joins the Epicurean t r a d i t i o n . He accepts i t s v i e w t h a t m a n is by nature or o r i g i n a l l y an a - p o l i t i c a l a n d even an a-social a n i m a l , as w e l l as i t s premise t h a t the good is f u n d a m e n t a l l y identical w i t h the p l e a s a n t . But he uses t h a t a - p o l i t i c a l v i e w for a p o l i t i c a l purpose. He g i v e s t h a t a - p o l i t i cal v i e w a p o l i t i c a l meaning. He tries to instil the spirit of p o l i t i c a l i d e a l i s m into the hedonistic t r a d i t i o n . He thus became the creator of p o l i t i c a l hedonism, a doctrine w h i c h h a s revolutionized h u m a n life e v e r y w h e r e on a scale never y e t a p proached b y a n y other t e a c h i n g . 4

The e p o c h - m a k i n g change w h i c h we are forced to trace to Hobbes w a s w e l l understood b y Edmund B u r k e : " B o l d n e s s formerly w a s not the character of a t h e i s t s as such. T h e y w e r e even of a character n e a r l y the reverse; t h e y w e r e formerly l i k e the old Epicureans, rather an unenterprising race. But of l a t e t h e y are g r o w n a c t i v e , designing, turbulent, and s e d i t i o u s . " P o l i t i c a l a t h e i s m is a d i s t i n c t l y modern phenomenon. No premodern a t h e i s t doubted t h a t social life required belief in, a n d w o r s h i p of, God or gods. If we do not permit ourselves to be deceived b y ephemeral phenomena, w e realize t h a t p o l i t i c a l a t h e i s m and p o l i t i c a l hedonism belong together. T h e y arose together in the same moment and in the same m i n d . 5

For in t r y i n g to understand Hobbes's p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y we must not lose s i g h t of h i s n a t u r a l p h i l o s o p h y . His n a t u r a l 4. De cive, I, 2; Leviathan, chap, vi (33). Hobbes speaks more emphatically of selfpreservation than of pleasure and thus seems to be closer to the Stoics than to the Epicureans. Hobbes's reason for putting the emphasis on self-preservation is that pleasure is an "appearance" whose underlying reality is "only motion," whereas selfpreservation belongs to the sphere not only of "appearance" but of "motion" as well (cf. Spinoza, Ethics, III, 9 schol. and 11 schol.). Hobbes's emphasizing self-preservation rather than pleasure is then due to his notion of nature or of natural .science and has therefore an entirely different motivation than the seemingly identical Stoic view. 5. Thoughts on French Affairs, in Works of Edmund Burke ("Bonn's Standard Library," Vol. I l l ) , p. 377.

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p h i l o s o p h y is of the type c l a s s i c a l l y represented by Democritean-Epicurean p h y s i c s . Yet he regarded, not Epicurus or Democritus, but P l a t o , as " t h e best of the ancient p h i l o s o p h e r s . " W h a t h e learned from P l a t o ' s n a t u r a l p h i l o s o p h y w a s not t h a t the universe cannot be understood if it is not ruled by divine i n t e l l i g e n c e . W h a t e v e r m a y h a v e been Hobbes's p r i v a t e t h o u g h t s , h i s n a t u r a l p h i l o s o p h y is as a t h e i s t i c as Epicurean p h y s i c s . W h a t h e learned from P l a t o ' s n a t u r a l p h i l o s o p h y w a s t h a t m a t h e m a t i c s i s " t h e mother o f a l l n a t u r a l s c i e n c e . " B y being both m a t h e m a t i c a l and m a t e r i a l i s t i c - m e c h a n i s t i c , Hobbes's n a t u r a l p h i l o s o p h y is a combination of Platonic p h y s i c s and Epicurean p h y s i c s . From h i s point of v i e w , premodern p h i l o s o p h y or science as a w h o l e w a s " r a t h e r a dream than s c i e n c e " precisely because it did not t h i n k of t h a t combination. H i s p h i l o s o p h y as a w h o l e m a y be said to be the classic e x a m p l e of the t y p i c a l l y modern combination of p o l i t i cal i d e a l i s m w i t h a m a t e r i a l i s t i c and a t h e i s t i c v i e w of the whole. 6

Positions t h a t are o r i g i n a l l y i n c o m p a t i b l e w i t h one another can b e combined i n t w o w a y s . The f i r s t w a y i s the eclectic compromise w h i c h remains on the same plane as the o r i g i n a l positions. The other w a y i s the s y n t h e s i s w h i c h becomes possible t h r o u g h the transition of t h o u g h t from the plane of the o r i g i n a l positions to an e n t i r e l y different p l a n e . The combination effected by Hobbes is a s y n t h e s i s . He m a y or m a y not h a v e been a w a r e t h a t he w a s , in fact, combining t w o opposed t r a d i tions. He w a s f u l l y a w a r e t h a t his t h o u g h t presupposed a r a d i cal break w i t h a l l t r a d i t i o n a l t h o u g h t , or the abandonment of the plane o n w h i c h " P l a t o n i s m " and " E p i c u r e a n i s m " h a d carried on t h e i r secular s t r u g g l e . Hobbes, a s w e l l a s h i s most i l l u s t r i o u s contemporaries, w a s o v e r w h e l m e d or e l a t e d by a sense of t h e complete failure of t r a d i t i o n a l p h i l o s o p h y . A glance at present and past contro6. Leviathan, chap, xlvi (438); English Works, VII, 346.


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versies sufficed to convince them t h a t p h i l o s o p h y , or the quest for w i s d o m , h a d not succeeded in transforming itself into w i s dom. T h i s overdue transformation w a s n o w to be effected. To succeed w h e r e t r a d i t i o n h a d failed, one h a s to start w i t h reflections on the conditions w h i c h h a v e to be fulfilled if w i s dom is to become a c t u a l : one h a s to start w i t h reflections on the r i g h t m e t h o d . The purpose of these reflections w a s to g u a r a n t e e the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of w i s d o m . The failure of t r a d i t i o n a l p h i l o s o p h y showed itself most c l e a r l y in t h e fact t h a t d o g m a t i c p h i l o s o p h y had a l w a y s been accompanied, a s b y i t s s h a d o w , b y skeptical p h i l o s o p h y . D o g m a t i s m h a d never y e t succeeded in overcoming skepticism once and for a l l . To guarantee the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of w i s d o m means to e r a d i c a t e skepticism by doing justice to the t r u t h embodied in skepticism. For t h i s purpose, one must first g i v e free rein to extreme s k e p t i c i s m : w h a t survives the o n s l a u g h t of extreme skepticism is the a b s o l u t e l y safe basis of w i s d o m . The a c t u a l i z a t i o n of w i s d o m is i d e n t i c a l w i t h the erection of an a b s o l u t e l y dependable d o g m a t i c edifice on the foundation of extreme s k e p t i c i s m . 7

- The experiment w i t h extreme skepticism w a s then g u i d e d by the a n t i c i p a t i o n of a n e w t y p e of d o g m a t i s m . Of a l l k n o w n scientific p u r s u i t s , m a t h e m a t i c s alone h a d been successful. The n e w d o g m a t i c p h i l o s o p h y must therefore be constructed on t h e pattern of m a t h e m a t i c s . The mere fact t h a t the o n l y certain k n o w l e d g e w h i c h w a s a v a i l a b l e i s not concerned w i t h ends but " c o n s i s t s in comparing figures and motions o n l y " created a prejudice a g a i n s t a n y t e l e o l o g i c a l v i e w or a prejudice in favor of a m e c h a n i s t i c v i e w . It is perhaps more accurate to s a y t h a t it strengthened a prejudice a l r e a d y in existence. For i t i s probable t h a t w h a t w a s foremost i n Hobbes's m i n d w a s 8

7. Compare Hobbes's agreement with the thesis of Descartes's first Meditation. 8. Elements, Ep. ded., and I, 13, sec. 4; De cive, Ep. ded.; Leviathan, chap, xi ( 6 8 ) ; cf. Spinoza, Ethics, I, Appendix.

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the vision, not of a n e w type of p h i l o s o p h y or science, but of a universe t h a t is n o t h i n g but bodies and t h e i r a i m l e s s motions. The failure of the predominant p h i l o s o p h i c tradition could be traced d i r e c t l y to the difficulty w i t h w h i c h every t e l e o l o g i c a l p h y s i c s is beset, and the suspicion arose q u i t e n a t u r a l l y t h a t , o w i n g to social pressures of various k i n d s , the mechanistic v i e w h a d never been given a fair chance to s h o w its v i r t u e s . But precisely if Hobbes w a s p r i m a r i l y interested in a m e c h a n i s tic v i e w , he w a s i n e v i t a b l y led, as m a t t e r s stood, to the notion of a d o g m a t i c p h i l o s o p h y based on extreme skepticism. For he h a d learned from Plato or Aristotle t h a t if the universe h a s the character ascribed to it by Democritean-Epicurean p h y s i c s , it excludes t h e p o s s i b i l i t y of a n y p h y s i c s , of a n y science, or, in other w o r d s , t h a t consistent m a t e r i a l i s m necessarily c u l m i nates in skepticism. "Scientific m a t e r i a l i s m " could not become possible if one did not first succeed in guaranteeing the p o s s i b i l i t y of science a g a i n s t the skepticism engendered by m a t e r i a l i s m . Only t h e a n t i c i p a t o r y revolt a g a i n s t a m a t e r i a l i s t i c a l l y understood universe could m a k e possible a science of such a universe. One had to discover or to invent an island t h a t w o u l d be exempt from the flux of m e c h a n i c a l causation. Hobbes had to consider the p o s s i b i l i t y of a n a t u r a l island. An incorporeal m i n d w a s out of the question. On the other h a n d , w h a t he h a d learned from Plato and A r i s t o t l e made h i m realize somehow t h a t the corporeal mind, composed of very smooth and round particles w i t h w h i c h Epicurus remained satisfied, w a s an inadequate solution. He w a s forced to wonder w h e t h e r the universe did not l e a v e room for an artificial i s l a n d , for an island to be created by science. The solution w a s suggested by the fact t h a t m a t h e m a t i c s , the model of the n e w p h i l o s o p h y , w a s itself exposed to skeptical a t t a c k and proved capable of resisting it by undergoing a specific transformation or interpretation. To " a v o i d the c a v i l s of the s k e p t i c s " at " t h a t so much renowned e v i -


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dence of geometry . . . I t h o u g h t it necessary in my definitions to express those motions by w h i c h l i n e s , superficies, solids, and f i g u r e s , were d r a w n and d e s c r i b e d . " G e n e r a l l y stated, w e h a v e a b s o l u t e l y certain or scientific k n o w l e d g e o n l y of those subjects of w h i c h we are the causes, or w h o s e construction is in our o w n p o w e r or depends on our a r b i t r a r y w i l l . The construction w o u l d not be f u l l y in our p o w e r if there w e r e a single step of the construction t h a t is not f u l l y exposed to our supervision. The construction must be conscious construction; it is impossible to k n o w a scientific t r u t h w i t h o u t k n o w i n g at the same time t h a t we h a v e made i t . The construction w o u l d not be fully in our p o w e r if it made use of a n y matter, i . e . , of a n y t h i n g t h a t is not itself our construct. The w o r l d of our constructs is w h o l l y u n e n i g m a t i c because we are its sole cause and hence we h a v e perfect k n o w l e d g e of its cause. The cause of the w o r l d of our constructs does not h a v e a further cause, a cause t h a t is not, or not f u l l y , w i t h i n our p o w e r ; the w o r l d of our constructs h a s an absolute beginning or is a creation in the strict sense. The w o r l d of our constructs is therefore the desired island that is exempt from the flux of blind and a i m l e s s c a u s a t i o n . The discovery or invention of t h a t island seemed to 9

9. English Works, VII, 179 ff.; De homine, X, 4-5; De cive, XVIII, 4, and XVII, 28; De corpore, XXV, 1; Elements, ed. Toennies, p. 168; fourth objection to Descartes's Meditations. The difficulty to which Hobbes's view of science is exposed is indicated by the fact that, as he says, all philosophy or science "weaves consequences" (cf. Leviathan, chap, i x ) while taking its beginning from "experiences" (De cive, XVII, 12), i.e., that philosophy or science is ultimately dependent on what is given and not constructed. Hobbes tried to solve this difficulty by distinguishing between the sciences proper, which are purely constructive or demonstrative (mathematics, cinematics, and political science), and physics, which has a lower status than the former (De corpore, XXV, 1; De homine, X, 5). This solution creates a new difficulty, since political science presupposes the scientific study of the nature of man, which is a part of physics (Leviathan, chap, ix in both versions; De homine, Ep. ded.; De corpore, VI, 6 ) . Hobbes apparently tried to solve this new difficulty in the following manner: it is possible to know the causes of the political phenomena both by descending from the more general phenomena (the nature of motion, the nature of living beings, the nature of man) to those causes and by ascending from the political phenomena themselves, as they are known

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guarantee the p o s s i b i l i t y of a m a t e r i a l i s t i c and mechanistic p h i l o s o p h y or science, w i t h o u t forcing one to assume a soul or mind t h a t is irreducible to moved m a t t e r . T h a t discovery or invention e v e n t u a l l y permitted an a t t i t u d e of n e u t r a l i t y or indifference t o w a r d the secular conflict between m a t e r i a l i s m and s p i r i t u a l i s m . Hobbes h a d the earnest desire to be a " m e t a p h y s i c a l " m a t e r i a l i s t . But he w a s forced to rest satisfied w i t h a "methodical" materialism. W e understand o n l y w h a t w e m a k e . Since w e d o not m a k e the n a t u r a l beings, t h e y are, s t r i c t l y s p e a k i n g , u n i n t e l l i g i b l e . According to Hobbes, t h i s fact is perfectly compatible w i t h the p o s s i b i l i t y of n a t u r a l science. But it l e a d s to the consequence t h a t n a t u r a l science is and w i l l a l w a y s remain fundam e n t a l l y h y p o t h e t i c a l . Yet t h i s is a l l we need in order to m a k e ourselves masters and owners of n a t u r e . S t i l l , h o w e v e r much man m a y succeed in h i s conquest of nature, he w i l l never be able t o understand nature. The universe w i l l a l w a y s remain w h o l l y e n i g m a t i c . It is t h i s fact t h a t u l t i m a t e l y accounts for the persistence of skepticism and justifies skepticism to a cert a i n extent. Skepticism is the i n e v i t a b l e outcome of the unint e l l i g i b l e character of the universe or of the unfounded belief in its i n t e l l i g i b i l i t y . In other w o r d s , since n a t u r a l t h i n g s are, as such, m y s t e r i o u s , the k n o w l e d g e or c e r t a i n t y engendered by nature necessarily l a c k s evidence. K n o w l e d g e based on the n a t u r a l w o r k i n g of the human mind is necessarily exposed to doubt. For t h i s reason Hobbes p a r t s company w i t h premodern n o m i n a l i s m in p a r t i c u l a r . Premodern n o m i n a l i s m h a d faith in the n a t u r a l w o r k i n g of the h u m a n mind. It showed t h i s faith e s p e c i a l l y b y t e a c h i n g t h a t natura occults operatur in universalibus, or t h a t the " a n t i c i p a t i o n s " by v i r t u e of w h i c h to everyone from experience, to the same causes (De corpore, VI, 7 ) . At any rate, Hobbes emphatically stated that political science may be based on, or consist of, "experience" as distinguished from "demonstrations" (De homine, Ep. ded.; De cive, praef.; Leviathan, Introd. and chap, xxxii, beginning).


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we t a k e our bearings in o r d i n a r y life and in science are products of n a t u r e . For Hobbes, the n a t u r a l o r i g i n of the u n i v e r s a l s or of the a n t i c i p a t i o n s w a s a compelling reason for abandoning them in favor of artificial " i n t e l l e c t u a l t o o l s . " There is no n a t u r a l h a r m o n y between the h u m a n mind and the universe. M a n can g u a r a n t e e the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of w i s d o m , since w i s dom is i d e n t i c a l w i t h free construction. But w i s d o m cannot be free construction if the universe is i n t e l l i g i b l e . M a n can g u a r antee the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of w i s d o m , not in spite of, but because of, the fact t h a t the universe is u n i n t e l l i g i b l e . M a n can be sovereign o n l y because there is no cosmic support for h i s hum a n i t y . He can be sovereign o n l y because he is a b s o l u t e l y a stranger in the universe. He can be sovereign o n l y because he is forced to be sovereign. Since the universe is u n i n t e l l i g i b l e and since control of nature does not require understanding of nature, there are no k n o w a b l e l i m i t s to h i s conquest of n a t u r e . He h a s n o t h i n g to lose but h i s c h a i n s , and, for a l l he k n o w s , h e m a y h a v e e v e r y t h i n g t o g a i n . S t i l l , w h a t i s certain i s t h a t m a n ' s n a t u r a l state is m i s e r y ; the vision of the C i t y of M a n to be erected on the ruins of the C i t y of God is an unsupported hope. It is h a r d for us to understand h o w Hobbes could be so hopeful w h e r e there w a s so much cause for despair. Somehow the experience, as w e l l as the l e g i t i m a t e a n t i c i p a t i o n , of unheardof progress w i t h i n the sphere w h i c h is subject to h u m a n control must h a v e made h i m insensitive to " t h e eternal silence of those infinite s p a c e s " or to the c r a c k i n g s of the momia mundi. In fairness to h i m , one must add t h a t the l o n g series of d i s appointments w h i c h subsequent generations experienced h a v e not y e t succeeded in e x t i n g u i s h i n g the hope w h i c h h e , together w i t h h i s most i l l u s t r i o u s contemporaries, k i n d l e d . S t i l l less h a v e t h e y succeeded i n b r e a k i n g d o w n the w a l l s w h i c h h e erected as if in order to l i m i t h i s v i s i o n . The conscious constructs h a v e indeed been replaced by the unplanned w o r k i n g s

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o f " H i s t o r y . " But " H i s t o r y " l i m i t s our vision i n e x a c t l y the same w a y i n w h i c h the conscious constructs l i m i t e d the v i s i o n of Hobbes: " H i s t o r y , " too, fulfils the function of enhancing the status of man and of h i s " w o r l d " by m a k i n g h i m o b l i v ious of the w h o l e or of e t e r n i t y . In i t s final stage the t y p i c a l l y modern l i m i t a t i o n expresses itself i n the suggestion t h a t the h i g h e s t p r i n c i p l e , w h i c h , as such, h a s no r e l a t i o n to a n y possible cause or causes of the w h o l e , is the m y s t e r i o u s ground of " H i s t o r y " and, being w e d d e d to man and to man alone, is so far from being eternal t h a t it is coeval w i t h h u man h i s t o r y . To return to Hobbes, h i s notion of p h i l o s o p h y or science h a s i t s root in the conviction t h a t a t e l e o l o g i c a l cosmology is i m possible and in t h e feeling t h a t a m e c h a n i s t i c cosmology fails to satisfy the requirement of i n t e l l i g i b i l i t y . His solution is t h a t the end or the ends w i t h o u t w h i c h no phenomenon can be understood need not be inherent in the phenomena; the end inherent in the concern w i t h k n o w l e d g e suffices. Knowledge as the end supplies the indispensable t e l e o l o g i c a l principle. Not 10

10. Two quotations taken from authors who belong to opposed camps but to the same spiritual family may serve as illustrations. We read in Friedrich Engels' Ludwig Feuerbacb und dtr Ausgang der deutschen klassischen Philosophie: "nichts besteht vor [der dialektischen Philosophie] als der ununterbrochene Prozess des Werdens und Vergehens, des Aufsteigens ohne Ende vom Niedern zum Höhern. . . . Wir brauchen hier nicht auf die Frage einzugehn, ob diese Anschauungsweise durchaus mit dem jetzigen Stand der Naturwissenschaft stimmt, die der Existenz der Erde selbst ein mögliches, ihrer Bewohnbarkeit aber ein ziemlich sicheres Ende vorhersagt, die also auch der Menschengeschichte nicht nur einen aufsteigenden, sondern auch einen absteigenden Ast zuerkennt. Wir befinden uns jedenfalls noch ziemlich weit von dem Wendefunkt." We read in J. J. Bachofen's Die Sage von Tanaquil: "Der Orient huldigt dem Naturstandpunkt, der Occident ersetzt ihn durch den geschichtlichen. . . . Man könnte sich versucht fühlen, in dieser Unterordnung der gottlichen unter die menschliche Idee die letzte Stufe des Abfalls von einem früheren erhabeneren Standpunkte zu erkennen. . . . Und dennoch enthält dieser Rückgang den Keim zu einem sehr wichtigen Fortschritt. Denn als solchen haben wir jede Befreiung unseres Geistes aus den lähmenden Fesseln einer kosmischphysischen Lebensbetrachtung anzusehen. . . . Wenn der Etrusker bekümmerten Sinnes an die Endlichkeit seines Stammes glaubt, so freut der Römer sich der Ewigkeit seines Staates, an welcher zu zweifeln er gar nicht fähig ist." (The italics are not in the originals.)


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the n e w m e c h a n i s t i c cosmology but w h a t later on came to be called " e p i s t e m o l o g y " becomes the substitute for t e l e o l o g i c a l cosmology. But k n o w l e d g e cannot remain the end if the w h o l e is simply u n i n t e l l i g i b l e : Scientia propter potentiam A l l intell i g i b i l i t y o r a l l m e a n i n g h a s i t s u l t i m a t e root i n h u m a n needs. The end, or the most compelling end posited by h u m a n desire, is the h i g h e s t principle, the o r g a n i z i n g principle. But if the h u m a n good becomes the h i g h e s t principle, p o l i t i c a l science or social science becomes the most important k i n d of k n o w l e d g e , as A r i s t o t l e h a d predicted. In the w o r d s of Hobbes, Dignissima certe scientiarum haec ipsa est, quae ad Principes pertinet, hominesque in regendo genere humano occupatos. One cannot leave i t , then, a t s a y i n g t h a t Hobbes agrees w i t h the i d e a l i s t i c tradition i n reg a r d to the function and scope of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . H i s expectation from p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y is incomparably greater t h a n the expectation of the classics. No Scipionic dream i l lumined by a true vision of the w h o l e reminds h i s readers of the u l t i m a t e f u t i l i t y of a l l t h a t men can do. Of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y t h u s understood, Hobbes is indeed the founder. 11

12

I t w a s M a c h i a v e l l i , t h a t greater Columbus, w h o h a d discovered the continent on w h i c h Hobbes could erect h i s structure. When t r y i n g to understand the t h o u g h t of M a c h i a v e l l i , one does w e l l t o remember the s a y i n g t h a t M a r l o w e w a s i n spired to ascribe to h i m : "I . . . h o l d there is no sin but i g n o r a n c e . " T h i s is almost a definition of the philosopher. Besides, no one of consequence ever doubted t h a t M a c h i a v e l l i ' s study of p o l i t i c a l matters w a s p u b l i c spirited. Being a p u b l i c 11. De corf ore, I, 6. The abandonment of the primacy of contemplation or theory in favor of the primacy of practice is the necessary consequence of the abandonment of the plane on which Platonism and Epicureanism had carried on their struggle. For the synthesis of Platonism and Epicureanism stands or falls with the view that to understand is to make. a

12. Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1141 20-22; De civt, praef.; cf. Opera Latina, IV, 487-88: the only serious part of philosophy is political philosophy.

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spirited philosopher, he continued the t r a d i t i o n of p o l i t i c a l i d e a l i s m . But he combined the i d e a l i s t i c v i e w of the intrinsic n o b i l i t y of statesmanship w i t h an a n t i - i d e a l i s t i c v i e w , if not of the w h o l e , at a n y rate of the o r i g i n s of m a n k i n d or of c i v i l society. M a c h i a v e l l i ' s a d m i r a t i o n for the p o l i t i c a l practice of classical a n t i q u i t y a n d e s p e c i a l l y of republican Rome is o n l y the reverse side of h i s rejection of classical p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . He rejected classical p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y , and t h e r e w i t h the w h o l e t r a d i t i o n of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y in the full sense of the term, a s useless: Classical p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y h a d t a k e n i t s bearings b y h o w m a n o u g h t t o l i v e ; the correct w a y o f answering the question of the r i g h t order of society consists in t a k i n g one's bearings b y h o w men a c t u a l l y d o l i v e . M a c h i a v e l l i ' s " r e a l i s t i c " revolt a g a i n s t t r a d i t i o n led to the substitution of patriotism or m e r e l y p o l i t i c a l virtue for h u m a n excellence or, more p a r t i c u l a r l y , for m o r a l v i r t u e and the contemplative life. It entailed a deliberate l o w e r i n g of t h e u l t i m a t e g o a l . The g o a l w a s l o w e r e d in order to increase the p r o b a b i l i t y of i t s a t t a i n m e n t . J u s t as Hobbes l a t e r on abandoned the o r i g i n a l meaning of w i s d o m in order to g u a r a n t e e the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of w i s d o m , M a c h i a v e l l i abandoned the o r i g i n a l meaning of the good society or of the good life. W h a t w o u l d happen to those n a t u r a l i n c l i n a t i o n s of man or of the h u m a n soul w h o s e demands s i m p l y transcend the l o w e r e d g o a l w a s of no concern to M a c h i a v e l l i . He disregarded those i n c l i n a t i o n s . He l i m i t e d h i s horizon in order to get results. And as for the p o w e r of chance, Fortuna appeared to h i m in the shape of a w o m a n w h o can be forced by the r i g h t k i n d of m e n : chance can be conquered. M a c h i a v e l l i justified h i s demand for a " r e a l i s t i c " p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y by reflections on the foundations of c i v i l society, and this means u l t i m a t e l y by reflections on the w h o l e w i t h i n w h i c h man l i v e s . There is no superhuman, no n a t u r a l , support for justice. A l l h u m a n t h i n g s fluctuate too much to permit


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their subjection to stable principles of justice. Necessity r a t h e r t h a n m o r a l purpose determines w h a t is in each case the sensible course of action. Therefore, c i v i l society cannot even aspire t o b e s i m p l y just. A l l l e g i t i m a c y h a s i t s root i n i l l e g i t i m a c y ; a l l social or m o r a l orders h a v e been established w i t h the h e l p o f m o r a l l y questionable means; c i v i l society h a s i t s root not in justice but in injustice. The founder of the most renowned of a l l c o m m o n w e a l t h s w a s a fratricide. J u s t i c e in a n y sense is possible o n l y after a social order h a s been e s t a b l i s h e d ; j u s t i c e in a n y sense is possible o n l y w i t h i n a man-made order. Yet t h e founding of c i v i l society, the supreme case in p o l i t i c s , i s i m i t a t e d , w i t h i n c i v i l society, i n a l l extreme cases. M a c h i a v e l l i t a k e s h i s bearings not so much by h o w men l i v e as by the extreme case. He believes t h a t the extreme case is more r e v e a l i n g of the roots of c i v i l society and therefore of i t s true c h a r a c t e r t h a n is the normal c a s e . The root or the efficient cause t a k e s the place of the end or of the purpose. It w a s the difficulty i m p l i e d in the substitution of m e r e l y p o l i t i c a l v i r t u e for moral v i r t u e or the difficulty i m p l i e d in M a c h i a v e l l i ' s admiration for the lupine policies of republican R o m e t h a t induced Hobbes to attempt the restoration of the m o r a l principles of p o l i t i c s , i . e . , of n a t u r a l l a w , on the plane o f M a c h i a v e l l i ' s " r e a l i s m . " I n m a k i n g t h i s attempt h e w a s mindful of the fact t h a t man cannot guarantee the a c t u a l i z a tion of the r i g h t social order if he does not have certain or e x act or scientific k n o w l e d g e of both the r i g h t social order and the conditions of its a c t u a l i z a t i o n . He attempted, therefore, in the first place a rigorous deduction of the n a t u r a l or moral l a w . To " a v o i d t h e c a v i l s of the s k e p t i c s , " n a t u r a l l a w h a d to be made independent of a n y n a t u r a l " a n t i c i p a t i o n s " and therefore of the consensus g e n t i u m The predominant tradition h a d 13

14

15

13. Cf. Bacon, Advanctmtnt of Learning ("Everyman's Library" ed.), pp. 70-71. 14. De cive, Ep. ded. 15. Ibid., II, 1.

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defined n a t u r a l l a w w i t h a v i e w to the end or the perfection of man as a r a t i o n a l and social a n i m a l . W h a t Hobbes attempted to do on the basis of M a c h i a v e l l i ' s fundamental objection to the Utopian t e a c h i n g of the t r a d i t i o n , a l t h o u g h in opposition to M a c h i a v e l l i ' s o w n solution, w a s to m a i n t a i n the idea of n a t u r a l l a w but to divorce it from the i d e a of m a n ' s perfection; o n l y if n a t u r a l l a w can be deduced from h o w men a c t u a l l y l i v e , from the most powerful force t h a t a c t u a l l y determines a l l men, or most men most of the t i m e , can it be effectual or of practical v a l u e . The complete basis of n a t u r a l l a w must be sought, not in the end of man, but in h i s b e g i n n i n g s , in the prima naturae or, rather, in the primum naturae. W h a t is most powerful in most men most of the time is not reason but p a s sion. N a t u r a l l a w w i l l not be effectual if i t s principles are d i s trusted by passion or are not a g r e e a b l e to p a s s i o n . N a t u r a l l a w must be deduced from the most powerful of a l l passions. But the most powerful of a l l passions w i l l be a n a t u r a l fact, and we are not to assume t h a t there is a n a t u r a l support for justice or for w h a t is h u m a n in m a n . Or is there a passion, or an object of passion, w h i c h is in a sense a n t i n a t u r a l , w h i c h m a r k s the point of indifference between the n a t u r a l and the nonnatural, w h i c h i s , as it w e r e , the status evanescendi of nature and therefore a possible o r i g i n for the conquest of nature or for freedom? The most powerful of a l l passions is the fear of death and, more p a r t i c u l a r l y , the fear of v i o l e n t death at the h a n d s of o t h e r s : not nature but " t h a t t e r r i b l e enemy of n a t u r e , d e a t h , " y e t death insofar as man can do something about i t , 16

17

16. In the alternative title of the Leviathan (The Matter, Form, and Power of a Commonwealth) the end is not mentioned. See also what Hobbes says about his method in the Preface to De cive. He claims that he deduced the end from the beginning. In fact, however, he takes the end for granted; for he discovers the beginning by analyzing human nature and human affairs with that end (peace) in view (cf. De cive, 1,1, and Leviathan, chap, xi beginning). Similarly, in his analysis of right or justice, Hobbes takes for granted the generally accepted view of justice (De cive, Ep. ded.). 17. Elements, Ep. ded.


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i . e . , death insofar as it can be a v o i d e d or avenged, supplies the ultimate guidance.

18

Death t a k e s the place of the telos. Or, to

preserve t h e a m b i g u i t y of Hobbes's t h o u g h t , let us s a y t h a t the fear of violent death expresses most forcefully the most powerful a n d the most fundamental of a l l n a t u r a l desires, the i n i t i a l desire, the desire for self-preservation. If, then, n a t u r a l l a w must be deduced from the desire for self-preservation, if, in other w o r d s , t h e desire for self-preserv a t i o n is t h e sole root of a l l justice and m o r a l i t y , the fundamental m o r a l fact is not a d u t y but a r i g h t ; a l l duties are der i v a t i v e from the fundamental and i n a l i e n a b l e r i g h t of selfpreservation. There are, then, no absolute or unconditional duties; duties are binding o n l y to the extent to w h i c h t h e i r performance does not endanger our self-preservation. Only the r i g h t of self-preservation is unconditional or absolute. By nature, there exists o n l y a perfect r i g h t and no perfect d u t y . The l a w of n a t u r e , w h i c h formulates m a n ' s n a t u r a l duties, is not a l a w , p r o p e r l y s p e a k i n g . Since the fundamental and absolute m o r a l fact is a r i g h t and not a d u t y , the function as w e l l as the l i m i t s of c i v i l society must be defined in terms of m a n ' s n a t u r a l r i g h t and not in terms of h i s n a t u r a l d u t y . The state h a s the function, not of producing or promoting a v i r t u o u s life, but of safeguarding the n a t u r a l r i g h t of e a c h . And the p o w e r of t h e state finds i t s absolute l i m i t in t h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t and in no 19

other m o r a l f a c t . If we m a y c a l l l i b e r a l i s m t h a t p o l i t i c a l doctrine w h i c h regards as the fundamental p o l i t i c a l fact the r i g h t s , as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from the duties, of man and w h i c h identifies the function of the state w i t h the protection or the 18. Ibid., I, 14, sec. 6; De civi, Ep. ded., I, 7, and III, 3 1 ; Leviathan, chaps, xiv (92) and xxvii (197). One would have to start from here in order to understand the role of the detective story in present-day moral orientation. 19. De cive, II, 10 end, 18-19; III, 14, 21, 27 and annot., 33; VI, 13; XIV, 3; Leviathan, chaps, xiv (84, 86-87), xxi (142-43), xxviii (202), and xxxii (243).

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safeguarding of those r i g h t s , we must s a y t h a t the founder of l i b e r a l i s m w a s Hobbes. By t r a n s p l a n t i n g n a t u r a l l a w on t h e plane of M a c h i a v e l l i , Hobbes c e r t a i n l y o r i g i n a t e d an e n t i r e l y n e w type of p o l i t i c a l doctrine. The premodern n a t u r a l l a w doctrines t a u g h t the duties of m a n ; if t h e y paid a n y a t t e n t i o n at a l l to h i s r i g h t s , t h e y conceived of t h e m as e s s e n t i a l l y d e r i v a t i v e from h i s duties. As h a s frequently been observed, in the course of the seventeenth and e i g h t e e n t h centuries a much greater emphasis w a s put on r i g h t s t h a n ever h a d been done before. One m a y speak of a shift of emphasis from n a t u r a l duties to n a t u r a l r i g h t s . But q u a n t i t a t i v e changes of t h i s character become int e l l i g i b l e o n l y w h e n t h e y are seen a g a i n s t the background of a q u a l i t a t i v e and fundamental c h a n g e , not to s a y t h a t such q u a n t i t a t i v e c h a n g e s a l w a y s become possible o n l y by virtue of a q u a l i t a t i v e and fundamental c h a n g e . The fundamental change from an orientation by n a t u r a l duties to an orientation by n a t u r a l r i g h t s finds its clearest and most t e l l i n g expression iri, the t e a c h i n g of Hobbes, w h o s q u a r e l y made an uncondit i o n a l n a t u r a l r i g h t the basis of a l l n a t u r a l d u t i e s , the duties I being therefore o n l y conditional. He is the classic and the founder of the specifically modern n a t u r a l l a w doctrine. The profound c h a n g e under consideration can be traced directly to Hobbes's concern w i t h a human g u a r a n t y for the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of the r i g h t social order or to h i s " r e a l i s t i c " intention. The a c t u a l i z a t i o n of a social order t h a t is defined in terms of m a n ' s duties is n e c e s s a r i l y uncertain and even improbable; such an order m a y w e l l appear to be Utopian. Quite different is the case of a social order t h a t is defined in terms of the r i g h t s of m a n . For the r i g h t s in question express, and are meant to express, 20

20. Cf. Otto von Gierke, The Development of Political Theory (New York, 1939), pp. 108, 322, 352; and J. N. Figgis, The Divine Right of Kings (2d ed.; Cambridge: At the University Press, 1934), pp. 221-23. For Kant it is already a question why moral philosophy is called the doctrine of duties and not the doctrine of rights (sec Metaphysik der Sitten, ed. Vorlaender, p. 45).


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something t h a t everyone a c t u a l l y desires a n y w a y ; t h e y h a l l o w e v e r y o n e ' s self-interest as everyone sees it or can e a s i l y be brought to see i t . M e n can more safely be depended upon to fight for t h e i r r i g h t s t h a n to fulfil t h e i r d u t i e s . In the w o r d s of B u r k e : " T h e l i t t l e catechism of the r i g h t s of men is soon learned; and the inferences are i n t h e p a s s i o n s . " W i t h r e g a r d t o Hobbes's classic formulation, w e add t h a t the premises a l r e a d y are in the passions. W h a t is required to m a k e modern n a t u r a l r i g h t effective is e n l i g h t e n m e n t or propaganda r a t h e r t h a n m o r a l a p p e a l . From t h i s w e m a y understand the freq u e n t l y observed fact t h a t during t h e modern period n a t u r a l l a w became much more of a r e v o l u t i o n a r y force t h a n it h a d been in the past. T h i s fact is a direct consequence of the fundamental change in the character of the n a t u r a l l a w doctrine itself. 21

The t r a d i t i o n w h i c h Hobbes opposed h a d assumed t h a t m a n cannot reach the perfection of h i s nature except in and t h r o u g h c i v i l society and, therefore, t h a t c i v i l society is prior to the i n d i v i d u a l . I t w a s t h i s assumption w h i c h led t o the v i e w t h a t the p r i m a r y m o r a l fact is d u t y and not r i g h t s . One could not assert the p r i m a c y of n a t u r a l r i g h t s w i t h o u t asserting t h a t the i n d i v i d u a l is in e v e r y respect prior to c i v i l s o c i e t y : a l l r i g h t s of c i v i l society or of the sovereign are d e r i v a t i v e from r i g h t s w h i c h o r i g i n a l l y belonged t o the i n d i v i d u a l . The i n d i v i d u a l as such, the i n d i v i d u a l regardless of h i s q u a l i t i e s — a n d not m e r e l y , a s A r i s t o t l e h a d contended, the man w h o surpasses h u m a n i t y — h a d to be conceived of as e s s e n t i a l l y complete independently of c i v i l society. T h i s conception is i m p l i e d in the contention t h a t there is a state of nature w h i c h antedates c i v i l society. According t o Rousseau, " t h e philosophers w h o h a v e examined the foundations of c i v i l society h a v e a l l of them felt the necessity to go back to the state of n a t u r e . " It is true t h a t 22

2 1 . Thoughts on French Affairs, p. 3 6 7 . 2 2 . De cive, VI, 5 - 7 ; Leviathan, chaps, xviii ( 1 1 3 ) and xxviii ( 2 0 2 - 3 ) .

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the quest for the r i g h t social order is inseparable from reflection on the o r i g i n s of c i v i l society or on the p r e p o l i t i c a l life of man. But the identification of the p r e p o l i t i c a l life of man w i t h " t h e state of n a t u r e " is a p a r t i c u l a r v i e w , a v i e w by no means held by " a l l " p o l i t i c a l philosophers. The state of nature became an essential topic of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y o n l y w i t h Hobbes, w h o s t i l l almost apologized for e m p l o y i n g t h a t term. It is only since Hobbes t h a t the p h i l o s o p h i c doctrine of natu r a l l a w h a s been e s s e n t i a l l y a doctrine of the state of nature. Prior to h i m , t h e term " s t a t e of n a t u r e " w a s at home in Christian t h e o l o g y r a t h e r t h a n in p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . The state of nature w a s distinguished e s p e c i a l l y from the state of grace, and it w a s subdivided into the state of pure nature and the state of fallen nature. Hobbes dropped the subdivision and replaced the state of grace by the state of c i v i l society. He t h u s denied, if not the fact, at a n y rate t h e importance of the F a l l and a c c o r d i n g l y asserted t h a t w h a t is needed for r e m e d y i n g the deficiencies or the " i n c o n v e n i e n c e s " of the state of nature i s , not divine g r a c e , but the r i g h t k i n d of h u m a n government. This a n t i t h e o l o g i c a l i m p l i c a t i o n of " t h e state of n a t u r e " can o n l y w i t h difficulty be separated from i t s intra-philosophic meaning, w h i c h is to m a k e i n t e l l i g i b l e the p r i m a c y of r i g h t s as distinguished from d u t i e s : the state of nature is o r i g i n a l l y characterized by the fact t h a t in it there are perfect r i g h t s but no perfect d u t i e s . 23

23. De civc, praef.: "conditioncm hominum extra societatem civilem (quam conditionem appellate liceat statum naturae)." Cf. Locke, Trtatises of Civil Government, II, sect. 15. For the original meaning of the term, cf. Aristotle Physics 246 10-17; Cicero Offices i. 67; De finibus i i i . 16, 20; Laws i i i . 3 (cf. also De cive, III, 25). According to the classics, the state of nature would be the life in a healthy civil society and not the life antedating civil society. The conventionalists assert, indeed, that civil society is conventional or artificial, but this implies a depreciation of civil society. Most conventionalists do not identify the life antedating civil society with the state of nature: they identify the life according to nature with the life of human fulfilment (be it the life of the philosopher or the life of the tyrant); the life according to nature is therefore impossible in the primeval condition that antedates civil society. On the other hand, those a


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If everyone h a s by nature the r i g h t to preserve himself, he n e c e s s a r i l y h a s the r i g h t to the means required for h i s selfpreservation. At t h i s point the question arises as to w h o is to be the j u d g e of w h a t means are required for a m a n ' s selfpreservation or as to w h i c h means are proper or r i g h t . The classics w o u l d h a v e answered t h a t t h e n a t u r a l judge i s the m a n of p r a c t i c a l w i s d o m , and t h i s a n s w e r w o u l d finally l e a d back to the v i e w t h a t the s i m p l y best regime is the absolute rule of the w i s e a n d the best p r a c t i c a b l e r e g i m e is the rule of g e n t l e men. According to Hobbes, h o w e v e r , everyone is by nature the^ judge of w h a t are the r i g h t means to h i s self-preservation. For, even g r a n t i n g t h a t the w i s e man i s , in principle, a better conventionalists who identify the life according to nature, or the state of nature, with the life antedating civil society, regard the state of nature as preferable to civil society (cf. Montaigne, Essais, II, 12, Chronique des lettres francaises, III, 311). Hobbes's notion of the state of nature presupposes the rejection of both the classic and the conventionalist view, for he denies the existence of a natural end, of a summum bosum. He identifies, therefore, the natural life with the "beginning," the life dominated by the most elementary wants; and at the same time he holds that this beginning is defective and that the deficiency is remedied by civil society. There is, then, according to Hobbes, no tension between civil society and what is natural, whereas, according to conventionalism, there is a tension between civil society and what is natural. Hence, according to conventionalism, the life according to nature is superior to civil society, whereas, according to Hobbes, it is inferior to it. We add that conventionalism is not necessarily egalitarian, whereas Hobbes's orientation necessitates egalitarianism. According to Thomas Aquinas, the status legis naturae is the condition in which man lived prior to the revelation of the Mosaic law (Summa theologica i. 2. qu. 102, a. 3 ad 12). It is the state in which the Gentiles live and therefore a condition of civil society (cf. Suarez, Tr. de legibus, I, 3, sec. 12; III, 11 ["in pura natura, vel in gentibus"]; III, 12 ["in statu purae naturae, si in ilio esset respublica verum Deum naturalitcr eolens"]; also Grotius De jure belli i i . 5, sec. 15. 2 uses "status naturae" in contradistinction to the "status legis Christianae"; when Grotius [iii. 7, sec. 1] says: "citra factum humanum aut primacvo naturae statu," he shows, by the addition of "primacvo," that the state of nature as such is not "citra factum humanum" and hence does not essentially antedate civil society. However, if the human law is regarded as the outcome of human corruption, the status legis naturae becomes that condition in which man was subject to the law of nature alone, and not yet to any human laws (Wyclif, De civili dominio, II, 13, ed. Poole, p. 154). For the prehistory of Hobbes's notion of the state of nature cf. also Soto's doctrine as reported by Suarez, op. tit., II, 17, sec. 9.

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judge, he is much less concerned w i t h the self-preservation of a given fool t h a n is the fool himself. B u t if everyone, h o w e v e r foolish, is by nature the judge of w h a t is required for h i s selfpreservation, e v e r y t h i n g m a y l e g i t i m a t e l y be regarded as required for self-preservation: e v e r y t h i n g is by nature j u s t . We m a y speak of a n a t u r a l r i g h t of f o l l y . Furthermore, if everyone is by nature the judge of w h a t is conducive to h i s self-preservation, consent t a k e s precedence over w i s d o m . But consent is not effective if it does not transform itself into subjection to the sovereign. For the reason indicated, t h e sovereign is sovereign not because of h i s w i s d o m but because he h a s been made sovereign by the fundamental compact. T h i s l e a d s to the further conclusion t h a t command or w i l l , and not deliberation or reasoning, is the core of s o v e r e i g n t y or t h a t l a w s are l a w s by virtue, not of truth or reasonableness, but of a u t h o r i t y a l o n e . In Hobbes's t e a c h i n g , the supremacy of a u t h o r i t y as distinguished from reason follows from an e x t r a o r d i n a r y extension of the n a t u r a l r i g h t of the i n d i v i d u a l . 24

25

The a t t e m p t t o deduce the n a t u r a l l a w o r the m o r a l l a w from the n a t u r a l r i g h t of self-preservation or from the inescapable p o w e r of the fear of violent death led to far-reaching modifications of t h e content of the m o r a l l a w . The modification amounted, in the first p l a c e , to a considerable simplification. S i x t e e n t h - and seventeenth-century t h o u g h t in general tended t o w a r d a simplification of m o r a l doctrine. To s a y the l e a s t , t h a t tendency e a s i l y lent itself to absorption in the broader concern w i t h the g u a r a n t y for the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of the r i g h t social order. One tried to replace the " u n s y s t e m a t i c " m u l t i p l i c i t y of irreducible v i r t u e s by a single v i r t u e , or by a single basic v i r t u e from w h i c h a l l o t h e r v i r t u e s could be deduced. There existed t w o w e l l - p a v e d w a y s i n w h i c h t h i s re24. De cive, I, 9; III, 13; Leviathan, chaps, xv (100) and xlvi (448). 25. De cive, VI, 19; XIV, 1 and 17; Leviathan, chap, xxvi (180); cf. also Sir Robert Filmer, Observations concerning the Original of Government, Preface.


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duction could be achieved. In the moral t e a c h i n g of A r i s t o t l e , " w h o s e opinions are at t h i s d a y , and in these parts of g r e a t e r a u t h o r i t y t h a n a n y other h u m a n w r i t i n g s " ( H o b b e s ) , there occur t w o v i r t u e s w h i c h comprise a l l other v i r t u e s or, a s w e m a y s a y , t w o " g e n e r a l " v i r t u e s : m a g n a n i m i t y , w h i c h comprises a l l o t h e r virtues in so far as t h e y contribute to the excellence of the i n d i v i d u a l , and justice, w h i c h comprises a l l other v i r t u e s in so far as t h e y contribute to m a n ' s serving o t h e r s . A c c o r d i n g l y , one could simplify m o r a l p h i l o s o p h y by reducing m o r a l i t y e i t h e r to m a g n a n i m i t y or else to justice. The first w a s done by Descartes, the second by Hobbes. The l a t t e r ' s choice h a d t h e p a r t i c u l a r a d v a n t a g e t h a t it w a s favorable to a further simplification of moral doctrine: the unqualified identification of the doctrine of v i r t u e s w i t h the doctrine of the moral o r n a t u r a l l a w . The moral l a w , i n i t s turn, w a s t o b e g r e a t l y simplified by being deduced from the n a t u r a l r i g h t of self-preservation. Self-preservation requires peace. The moral l a w became, therefore, the sum of rules w h i c h h a v e to be obeyed if there is to be peace. J u s t as M a c h i a v e l l i reduced v i r tue to t h e p o l i t i c a l v i r t u e of p a t r i o t i s m , Hobbes reduced v i r t u e to the social v i r t u e of peaceableness. Those forms of h u m a n excellence w h i c h h a v e no direct or unambiguous relation to peaceableness—courage, temperance, m a g n a n i m i t y , l i b e r a l i t y , to s a y n o t h i n g of wisdom—cease to be virtues in the strict sense. J u s t i c e ( i n conjunction w i t h e q u i t y and c h a r i t y ) does remain a v i r t u e , but its m e a n i n g undergoes a r a d i c a l c h a n g e . If the o n l y unconditional moral fact is the n a t u r a l r i g h t of each to h i s self-preservation, and therefore a l l o b l i g a t i o n s to others arise from contract, justice becomes i d e n t i c a l w i t h the h a b i t of fulfilling one's contracts. J u s t i c e no l o n g e r consists in comp l y i n g w i t h standards t h a t are independent o f h u m a n w i l l . A l l m a t e r i a l principles of justice—the rules of c o m m u t a t i v e and d i s t r i b u t i v e justice or of the Second Table of the Decalogue— cease t o h a v e intrinsic v a l i d i t y . A l l m a t e r i a l o b l i g a t i o n s arise

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from the agreement of the contractors, and therefore in practice from t h e w i l l of the s o v e r e i g n . For the contract t h a t m a k e s possible a l l other contracts is t h e social contract or the contract of subjection to the sovereign. If virtue is identified w i t h peaceableness, vice w i l l become identical w i t h t h a t h a b i t or t h a t passion w h i c h is per se incompatible w i t h peace because it e s s e n t i a l l y a n d , as it w e r e , of set purpose issues in offending others; vice becomes identical for a l l practical purposes w i t h pride or v a n i t y or amour-propre rather t h a n w i t h dissoluteness or w e a k n e s s of the soul. In other w o r d s , if v i r t u e is reduced to social v i r t u e or to benevolence or kindness or " t h e liberal v i r t u e s , ' ' " t h e severe v i r t u e s ' ' of self-restraint w i l l lose their s t a n d i n g . Here a g a i n we must h a v e recourse to B u r k e ' s a n a l y s i s of the spirit of the French R e v o l u t i o n ; for B u r k e ' s polemical overstatements were and are indispensable for tearing a w a y t h e disguises, both intentional and u n i n t e n t i o n a l , i n w h i c h " t h e new m o r a l i t y " introduced itself: " T h e Parisian philosophers . . . explode or render odious or contemptible, t h a t class of virtues w h i c h restrain the appetite. . . . I n the place o f a l l t h i s , t h e y substitute a virtue w h i c h t h e y c a l l h u m a n i t y o r b e n e v o l e n c e . " T h i s substitution is the core of w h a t we h a v e c a l l e d " p o l i t i c a l hedonism." To establish the meaning of p o l i t i c a l hedonism in s o m e w h a t more precise terms, we must contrast Hobbes's teaching w i t h the nonpolitical hedonism of Epicurus. The points in w h i c h Hobbes could agree w i t h Epicurus, w e r e these: the good is fundamentally identical w i t h the p l e a s a n t ; virtue is therefore not c h o i c e w o r t h y for its o w n sake but o n l y w i t h a v i e w to the 26

27

28

26. Elements, I, 17, sec. 1; De cive, Ep. ded.; Ill, 3-6, 29, 32; VI, 16; XII, 1; XIV, 9-10, 17; XVII, 10; XVIII, 3; De homine, XIII, 9; Leviathan, chaps, xiv (92), xv (96, 97, 98, 104), and xxvi (186). 27. "Temperantia privatio potius vitiorum quae oriuntur ab ingeniis cupidis (quihus non laeditur chitas, sed ipsi) quam virtus moralis ( e s t ) " (De homine, XIII, 9 ) . The step from this view to "private vices, public benefits," is short. 28. Letter to Rivarol of June 1, 1791.


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a t t a i n m e n t of pleasure or the avoidance of p a i n ; the desire for honor and g l o r y is u t t e r l y v a i n , i . e . , sensual pleasures are, as such, preferable to honor or g l o r y . Hobbes h a d to oppose Epicurus in t w o crucial points in order to m a k e possible p o l i t i cal hedonism. In the first p l a c e , he h a d to reject Epicurus' i m p l i c i t d e n i a l of a state of nature in the strict sense, i . e . , of a p r e p o l i t i c a l condition of life in w h i c h man enjoys n a t u r a l r i g h t s ; for Hobbes agreed w i t h t h e i d e a l i s t i c t r a d i t i o n i n t h i n k i n g t h a t the c l a i m of c i v i l society stands or falls w i t h the existence of n a t u r a l r i g h t . Besides, he could not accept the i m p l i c a t i o n of Epicurus' distinction between n a t u r a l desires w h i c h are necessary and n a t u r a l desires w h i c h are not necess a r y ; for t h a t distinction i m p l i e d t h a t happiness requires a n " a s c e t i c " s t y l e of life and t h a t happiness consists in a state of repose. Epicurus' h i g h demands on self-restraint w e r e bound to be Utopian as far as most men are concerned; t h e y h a d therefore to be discarded by a " r e a l i s t i c " p o l i t i c a l t e a c h i n g . The " r e a l i s t i c " approach to p o l i t i c s forced Hobbes to lift a l l restrictions on the striving for unnecessary sensual pleasures or, more precisely, for the commoda hujus vitae, or for power, w i t h the exception of those restrictions t h a t are required for the sake of peace. Since, as Epicurus s a i d , " N a t u r e h a s made [ o n l y ] the necessary t h i n g s e a s y to s u p p l y , " the emancipation of the desire for comfort required t h a t science be put into the service of the satisfaction of t h a t desire. It required, above a l l , t h a t the function of c i v i l society be r a d i c a l l y redefined: " t h e good l i f e , " for t h e sake of w h i c h men enter c i v i l society, is no longer the life of human excellence but "commodious l i v i n g " as the r e w a r d of h a r d w o r k . And the sacred duty of the rulers is no longer " t o m a k e the citizens good and doers of noble t h i n g s " but to " s t u d y , as much as by l a w s can be effected, to furnish the citizens a b u n d a n t l y w i t h a l l good t h i n g s . . . w h i c h are conducive to d e l e c t a t i o n . " 29

29. De cm, I, 2, 5, 7; XIII, 4-6; Leviathan, chaps, xi (63-64) and xiii end; Di corpore, I, 6.

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It is not necessary for our purpose to follow Hobbes's t h o u g h t on i t s w a y from t h e n a t u r a l r i g h t of everyone, or from t h e state of nature, to the e s t a b l i s h m e n t of c i v i l society. T h i s part of h i s doctrine is not m e a n t to be more t h a n the strict consequence from h i s premises. It c u l m i n a t e s in the doctrine of sovereignty, of w h i c h he is g e n e r a l l y recognized to be the classic exponent. The doctrine of sovereignty is a l e g a l doctrine. Its g i s t is not t h a t it is expedient to assign plenitude of p o w e r to the r u l i n g a u t h o r i t y but t h a t t h a t plenitude belongs to the r u l i n g a u t h o r i t y as of r i g h t . The r i g h t s of sovere i g n t y are assigned to the supreme p o w e r on the basis not of positive l a w or of general custom but of n a t u r a l l a w . The doctrine of sovereignty formulates n a t u r a l p u b l i c l a w . N a t ural public l a w — j u s publicum universale seu naturale—is a n e w discipline t h a t emerged in the seventeenth century. It emerged in consequence of t h a t radica^ change of orientation w h i c h we are t r y i n g to understand. N a t u r a l p u b l i c l a w represents one of the t w o c h a r a c t e r i s t i c a l l y modern forms of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y , the other form being " p o l i t i c s " in the sense of M a c h i a v e l l i a n " r e a s o n of s t a t e . " Both are fundamentally distinguished from c l a s s i c a l p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . In spite of their opposition to each other, they are m o t i v a t e d by fundamen3 0

30. Leviathan, chap, xxx, the third and fourth paragraphs of the Latin version; De cive, IX, 3; X, 2 beginning, and 5; XI, 4 end; XII, 8 end; XIV, 4; cf. also Malebranche, Traite de morale, cd. Joly, p. 214. There is this difference between natural law in the ordinary sense and natural public law, that natural public law and its subject matter (the commonwealth) are based on a fundamental fiction, on the fiction that the will of the sovereign is the will of all and of each or that the sovereign represents all and each (De cive, V, 6, 9, 11; VII, 14). The will of the sovereign has to be regarded as the will of all and of each, whereas, in fact, there is an essential discrepancy between the will of the sovereign and the wills of the individuals, the only wills that are natural: to obey the sovereign means precisely to do what the sovereign wills, not what I w i l l . Even if my reason should habitually tell me to will what the sovereign wills, this rational will is not necessarily identical with my complete will, my actual or explicit will (cf. the reference to the "implicit w i l l s " in Elements, II, 9, sec. 1; cf. also De cive, XII, 2 ) . On the basis of Hobbes's premises, "representation" is then not a convenience but an essential necessity.


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31

t a l l y the same s p i r i t . Their o r i g i n is the concern w i t h a r i g h t or sound order of society w h o s e a c t u a l i z a t i o n is probable, if not c e r t a i n , or does not depend on chance. A c c o r d i n g l y , t h e y d e l i b e r a t e l y l o w e r the g o a l of p o l i t i c s ; t h e y are no longer concerned w i t h h a v i n g a clear v i e w of the h i g h e s t p o l i t i c a l possib i l i t y w i t h regard to w h i c h a l l a c t u a l p o l i t i c a l orders can be judged in a responsible manner. The " r e a s o n of s t a t e " school replaced " t h e best r e g i m e " by "efficient g o v e r n m e n t . " The " n a t u r a l p u b l i c l a w " school replaced " t h e best r e g i m e " b y "legitimate government." C l a s s i c a l p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y h a d recognized the difference between t h e best regime and l e g i t i m a t e regimes. It asserted, therefore, a v a r i e t y of types of l e g i t i m a t e r e g i m e s ; t h a t i s , w h a t t y p e of regime is l e g i t i m a t e in given circumstances depends on the circumstances. N a t u r a l public l a w , on the other hand, i s concerned w i t h t h a t r i g h t social order w h o s e a c t u a l i zation is possible under a l l circumstances. It therefore tries to delineate t h a t social order t h a t can c l a i m to be l e g i t i m a t e or just in a l l cases, regardless of the circumstances. N a t u r a l publ i c l a w , w e m a y s a y , replaces the idea o f the best r e g i m e , w h i c h does not supply, and is not meant to supply, an a n s w e r to the question of w h a t is the just order here and n o w , by the idea of the just social order w h i c h answers the basic p r a c t i c a l question once and for a l l , i . e . , regardless of place and t i m e . 32

31. Cf. Fr. J. Stahl, Geschichte der Rechtsphilosophie (2d ed.), p. 325: "Es ist eine Eigentümlichkeit der neuern Zeit, dass ihre Staatslehre (das Naturrecht) und ihte Staatskunst (die vorzugsweise sogenannte Politik) zwei völlig verschiedene Wissenschaften sind. Diese Trennung ist das Werk des Geistes, welcher in dieser Periode die Wissenschaft beherrscht. Das Ethos wird in der Vernunft gesucht, diese hat aber keine Macht über die Begebenheiten und den natürlichen Erfolg; was die äusserlichen Verhältnisse fordern und abnöthigen, stimmt gar nicht mit ihr überein, verhält sich feindlich gegen sie, die Rücksicht auf dasselbe kann daher nicht Sache der Ethik des Staates sein." Cf. Grotius De jure belli, Prolegomena, sec. 57. 32. Cf. De cive, praef. toward the end, on the entirely different status of the question of the best form of government, on the one hand, and the question of the rights of the sovereign, on the other.

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N a t u r a l public l a w intends to g i v e such a u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d solution to the p o l i t i c a l problem as is m e a n t to be u n i v e r s a l l y applicable in practice. In other w o r d s , w h e r e a s , according to the classics, p o l i t i c a l theory proper is e s s e n t i a l l y in need of being supplemented by the practical w i s d o m of the statesman on the spot, the n e w type of p o l i t i c a l theory solves, as such, the crucial practical problem: the problem of w h a t order is just here and n o w . In the decisive respect, then, there is no longer a n y need for statesmanship as distinguished from pol i t i c a l theory. W e m a y c a l l this t y p e o f t h i n k i n g " d o c t r i n a i r i s m , " and we s h a l l s a y t h a t doctrinairism made its first a p pearance w i t h i n p o l i t i c a l philosophy—for l a w y e r s are a l t o gether in a class by themselves—in the seventeenth century. At t h a t time the sensible flexibility of classical p o l i t i c a l philosophy gave w a y t o fanatical r i g i d i t y . The p o l i t i c a l philosopher became more and more i n d i s t i n g u i s h a b l e from the partisan. The historical t h o u g h t of the nineteenth century tried to recover for statesmanship t h a t l a t i t u d e w h i c h n a t u r a l publ i c l a w h a d so severely restricted. But since t h a t h i s t o r i c a l t h o u g h t w a s a b s o l u t e l y under the spell of modern " r e a l i s m , " it succeeded in destroying n a t u r a l public l a w o n l y by destroying in the process a l l moral principles of p o l i t i c s . As regards Hobbes's teaching on sovereignty in p a r t i c u l a r , its doctrinaire character is s h o w n most c l e a r l y by the denials w h i c h it i m p l i e s . It i m p l i e s the denial of the p o s s i b i l i t y of dist i n g u i s h i n g between good and bad regimes ( k i n g s h i p and t y r a n n y , aristocracy and o l i g a r c h y , democracy and ochlocr a c y ) as w e l l as of the p o s s i b i l i t y of m i x e d regimes and of " r u l e of l a w . " Since these denials are at variance w i t h observed facts, the doctrine of sovereignty amounts in practice 3 3

33. De cive, VII, 2-4; XII, 4-5; Leviathan, chap, xxix (216). Sec, however, the reference to legitimate kings and to illegitimate rulers in De cive, XII, 1 and 3. De cive, VI, 13 end, and VII, 14, show that natural law, as Hobbes understands it, supplies a basis for objectively distinguishing between kingship and tyranny. Cf. also ibid., XII, 7, with XIII, 10.


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to a denial not of the existence, but of the l e g i t i m a c y , of the p o s s i b i l i t i e s mentioned: Hobbes's doctrine of sovereignty a s cribes to the sovereign prince or to the sovereign people an unqualified r i g h t t o disregard a l l l e g a l and constitutional l i m i t a t i o n s according to their p l e a s u r e , and it imposes even on sensible men a n a t u r a l l a w prohibition a g a i n s t censuring the sovereign and h i s actions. But it w o u l d be w r o n g to overlook the fact t h a t the basic deficiency of the doctrine of sovereignty is shared, if to different degrees, by a l l other forms of n a t u r a l public l a w doctrines a s w e l l . W e merely have t o remind ourselves of the practical meaning of the doctrine that the o n l y l e g i t i m a t e regime is democracy. The classics h a d conceived of regimes ( p o l i t e i a i ) not so much in terms of i n s t i t u t i o n s as in terms of the a i m s a c t u a l l y pursued by the c o m m u n i t y or its a u t h o r i t a t i v e part. A c c o r d i n g l y , t h e y regarded the best regime as that regime w h o s e a i m is v i r t u e , and t h e y h e l d t h a t the r i g h t k i n d of institutions are indeed indispensable for e s t a b l i s h i n g and securing the rule of the v i r tuous, but of o n l y secondary importance in comparison w i t h " e d u c a t i o n , " i . e . , the formation of character. From the point of v i e w of n a t u r a l public l a w , on the other h a n d , w h a t is needed in order to establish the r i g h t social order is not so much the formation of character as the devising of the r i g h t k i n d of i n s t i t u t i o n s . As Kant put it in rejecting the v i e w t h a t the establishment of the r i g h t social order requires a nation of a n g e l s : " H a r d as it m a y sound, the problem of e s t a b l i s h i n g the state [ i . e . , t h e just social order] is soluble even for a nation of d e v i l s , provided t h e y have sense," i . e . , provided t h a t t h e y are guided by enlightened selfishness; the fundamental p o l i t i c a l problem is s i m p l y one of "a good organization of the state, of 34

34. As for the discrepancy between Hobbes's doctrine and the practice of mankind, see Leviathan, chaps, xx end, and xxxi end. As for the revolutionary consequences of Hobbes's doctrine of sovereignty, see De cive, VII, 16 and 17, as well as Leviathan, chaps, xix (122) and xxix (210): there is no right of prescription; the sovereign is the present sovereign (see Leviathan, chap, xxvi [175]).

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w h i c h man is indeed c a p a b l e . " In t h e w o r d s of Hobbes, " w h e n [ c o m m o n w e a l t h s ] come to be dissolved, not by extern a l violence, but intestine disorder, t h e fault is not in men, as t h e y are the matter, but as t h e y are the makers, and orderers of t h e m . " M a n as the m a k e r of c i v i l society can solve once and for a l l the problem inherent in man as the m a t t e r of c i v i l soc i e t y . M a n can g u a r a n t e e the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of the r i g h t social order because he is able to conquer h u m a n nature by understanding and m a n i p u l a t i n g the mechanism of the passions. 3 5

There is a term t h a t expresses in t h e most condensed form the result of the c h a n g e w h i c h Hobbes h a s effected. T h a t term is " p o w e r . " It is in Hobbes's p o l i t i c a l doctrine t h a t p o w e r becomes for the first time to n o m i n e a central theme. Considering the fact t h a t , according to Hobbes, science as such exists for the s a k e of p o w e r , one m a y call Hobbes's w h o l e p h i l o s o p h y the first p h i l o s o p h y of power. " P o w e r " is an a m b i g u o u s term. It stands for potentia, on the one hand, and for potestas (or jus or dominium), on the o t h e r . It means both " p h y s i c a l " p o w e r and " l e g a l " power. The a m b i g u i t y is e s s e n t i a l : o n l y if potentia and potestas e s s e n t i a l l y belong together, can there be a g u a r a n t y of the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of the r i g h t social order. The state, as such, is both the greatest h u m a n force and the h i g h e s t human a u t h o r i t y . L e g a l power is irresistible force. The necess a r y coincidence of the greatest h u m a n force a n d the h i g h e s t h u m a n a u t h o r i t y corresponds s t r i c t l y to the necessary coincidence of the most powerful passion (fear of violent d e a t h ) and 36

37

35. Leviathan, chap, xxix (210); Kant, Eternal Peace, Definitive Articles, First Addition. 36. Cf., e.g., the headings of chap, x in the English and Latin versions of the Leviathan, and the headings of Elements, II, 3 and 4, with those of De cive, VIII and IX. For an example of the synonymous use of pottntia and potestas see De cive, IX, 8. A comparison of the title of the Leviathan with the Preface of De cive (beginning of the section on method) suggests that "power" is identical with "generation." Cf. De corpore, X, 1: potentia is the same as causa. In opposition to Bishop Bramhall, Hobbes insists on the identity of "power" with "potentiality" (English Works, IV, 298). 37. De cive, XIV, 1, and XVI, 15; Leviathan, chap, x (56).


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the most sacred r i g h t ( t h e r i g h t of self-preservation). Potentia and potestas h a v e t h i s in common, t h a t t h e y are both i n t e l l i g i b l e o n l y in contradistinction, and in r e l a t i o n , to the actus: the potentia of a man is w h a t a man can do, and the potestas or, more g e n e r a l l y expressed, the r i g h t of a man, is w h a t a m a n may do. T h e predominance of the concern w i t h " p o w e r " is therefore o n l y the reverse of a r e l a t i v e indifference to t h e actus, and t h i s means to the purposes for w h i c h m a n ' s " p h y s i c a l " a s w e l l a s h i s " l e g a l " p o w e r i s o r o u g h t t o b e used. T h i s indifference can be traced d i r e c t l y to Hobbes's concern w i t h an exact or scientific p o l i t i c a l t e a c h i n g . The sound use of " p h y s i c a l " p o w e r as w e l l as the sound exercise of r i g h t s depends on prudentia, and w h a t e v e r falls w i t h i n the province of prudentia is not susceptible of exactness. There are t w o k i n d s of e x a c t n e s s : m a t h e m a t i c a l and l e g a l . From the point of v i e w of m a t h e m a t i c a l exactness, the study of the actus and t h e r e w i t h of the ends is replaced by the study of potentia. " P h y s i c a l " p o w e r as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from the purposes for w h i c h it is used is m o r a l l y neutral and therefore more amenable to m a t h e m a t i c a l strictness t h a n is i t s u s e : p o w e r can be measured. T h i s e x p l a i n s w h y Nietzsche, w h o w e n t much beyond Hobbes and declared the w i l l to p o w e r to be the essence of r e a l i t y , conceived of p o w e r in terms o f " q u a n t a of p o w e r . ' ' From the point of v i e w of l e g a l exactness, t h e study of the ends is replaced by the study of potestas. T h e r i g h t s of the sovereign, as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from t h e exercise of these r i g h t s , permit of an exact definition w i t h o u t a n y regard t o a n y unforeseeable circumstances, and t h i s k i n d of exactness is a g a i n inseparable from moral n e u t r a l i t y : r i g h t declares w h a t is permitted, as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from w h a t is hono r a b l e . P o w e r , as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from the end for w h i c h 38

38. De cive, X, 16, and VI, 1 3 annot. end. Cf. Leviathan, chap, xxi (143), for the distinction between the permitted and the honorable (cf. Salmasius, Defensio regia [1649], pp. 40-45). Cf. Leviathan, chap, xi (64) with Thomas Aquinas Summa contra Gentiles iii. 3 1 .

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p o w e r is used or o u g h t to be used, becomes the central theme of p o l i t i c a l reflections by virtue of t h a t l i m i t a t i o n of horizon w h i c h is needed if there is to be a g u a r a n t y of the a c t u a l i z a t i o n of the r i g h t social order. Hobbes's p o l i t i c a l doctrine is meant to be u n i v e r s a l l y a p plicable and hence to be applicable also and e s p e c i a l l y in e x treme cases. T h i s indeed m a y be said to be the boast of the classic doctrine of s o v e r e i g n t y : t h a t it g i v e s its due to the e x treme case, to w h a t holds good in emergency s i t u a t i o n s , w h e r e a s those w h o question t h a t doctrine are accused of not l o o k i n g beyond the p a l e of n o r m a l i t y . A c c o r d i n g l y , Hobbes built h i s w h o l e m o r a l and p o l i t i c a l doctrine on observations r e g a r d i n g the extreme case; for the experience on w h i c h h i s doctrine of the state of nature is based is the experience of c i v i l w a r . It is in the extreme situation, w h e n the social fabric h a s completely broken down, t h a t there comes to s i g h t the solid foundation on w h i c h every social order must u l t i m a t e l y rest: the fear of violent d e a t h , w h i c h is the strongest force in human life. Y e t Hobbes w a s forced to concede t h a t the fear of violent death is o n l y " c o m m o n l y " or in most cases the most powerful force. The principle w h i c h w a s supposed to m a k e possible a p o l i t i c a l doctrine of universal a p p l i c a b i l i t y , then, is not u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d and therefore is useless in w h a t , from Hobbes's point of v i e w , is the most important case—the e x treme case. For h o w can one exclude the p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t precisely i n the extreme situation the exception w i l l p r e v a i l ? 39

39. Leviathan, chaps, xiii (83) and xv (92). One may state this difficulty also as follows: In the spirit of the dogmatism based on skepticism, Hobbes identified what the skeptic Carneades apparently regarded as the conclusive refutation of the claims raised on behalf of justice, with the only possible justification of these claims: the extreme situation—the situation of the two shipwrecked men on a plank on which only one man can save himself—reveals, not the impossibility of justice, but the basis of justice. Yet Carneades did not contend that in such a situation one is compelled to kill one's competitor (Cicero Republic i i i . 29-30): the extreme situation does not reveal a real necessity.


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To speak in more specific terms, there are t w o p o l i t i c a l l y i m portant phenomena w h i c h w o u l d seem t o s h o w w i t h p a r t i c u l a r c l a r i t y the l i m i t e d v a l i d i t y of Hobbes's contention r e g a r d ing the o v e r w h e l m i n g power of the fear of violent d e a t h . In the first p l a c e , if the o n l y unconditional moral fact is the i n d i v i d u a l ' s r i g h t of self-preservation, c i v i l society can h a r d l y demand from the i n d i v i d u a l t h a t he resign t h a t r i g h t both by g o i n g to w a r and by submitting to c a p i t a l punishment. As regards c a p i t a l punishment, Hobbes w a s consistent enough to grant t h a t , by being j u s t l y and l e g a l l y condemned to d e a t h , a man does not lose the r i g h t to defend h i s life by resisting " t h o s e t h a t a s s a u l t h i m " : a j u s t l y condemned murderer r e t a i n s — n a y , h e acquires—the r i g h t t o k i l l his guards and e v e r y one else w h o stands in h i s w a y to escape, in order to save dear l i f e . But, by g r a n t i n g t h i s , Hobbes in fact admitted t h a t there exists an insoluble conflict between the r i g h t s of the government and t h e n a t u r a l r i g h t of the i n d i v i d u a l to self-preservation. T h i s conflict w a s solved in the spirit, if a g a i n s t the letter, of Hobbes by Beccaria, w h o inferred from the absolute p r i m a c y of t h e r i g h t of self-preservation the necessity of a b o l i s h ing c a p i t a l punishment. A s regards w a r , Hobbes, w h o p r o u d l y declared t h a t he w a s " t h e first of a l l t h a t fled'' at the o u t b r e a k of the C i v i l W a r , w a s consistent e n o u g h to grant t h a t " t h e r e is a l l o w a n c e to be made for n a t u r a l t i m o r o u s n e s s . " And as if he desired t o m a k e i t perfectly clear t o w h a t l e n g t h s h e w a s prepared to go in opposing the lupine spirit of Rome, he continues as f o l l o w s : " W h e n armies fight, there is on one side, or both, a running a w a y : y e t w h e n t h e y do it not out of treachery, but fear, t h e y are not esteemed to do it unjustly, but dishonoura b l y . " B u t , by g r a n t i n g t h i s , he destroyed the moral basis of n a t i o n a l defense. The o n l y solution to t h i s difficulty w h i c h 40

4 1

40. Leviathan, chap, xxi (142-43); cf. also De cive, VIII, 9. 41. Leviathan, chap, xxi (143); English Works, IV, 414. Cf. Leviathan, chap, xxx (227) and De cive, XIII, 14, with Locke's chapter on conquest.

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preserves the spirit of Hobbes's p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y is t h e o u t l a w r y of w a r or the establishment of a w o r l d state. There w a s o n l y one fundamental objection to Hobbes's basic assumption w h i c h he felt v e r y k e e n l y and w h i c h he made every effort to overcome. In m a n y cases the fear of v i o l e n t death proved to be a w e a k e r force t h a n the fear of h e l l fire or the fear of God. The difficulty is w e l l i l l u s t r a t e d by t w o w i d e l y separated passages of the Leviathan. In the first p a s sage Hobbes s a y s t h a t the fear of the p o w e r of men ( i . e . , the fear of violent d e a t h ) is " c o m m o n l y " greater t h a n t h e fear of the p o w e r of " s p i r i t s i n v i s i b l e , " i . e . , t h a n r e l i g i o n . In the second passage he s a y s t h a t " t h e fear of darkness and g h o s t s is greater t h a n other f e a r s . " Hobbes s a w h i s w a y to^solve t h i s contradiction: the fear of i n v i s i b l e p o w e r s is stronger t h a n t h e fear of v i o l e n t death as long as people believe in i n v i s i b l e p o w e r s , i . e . , as long as t h e y are under the spell of delusions about the true character of r e a l i t y ; t h e fear of violent d e a t h comes f u l l y into its o w n as soon as people h a v e become enl i g h t e n e d . T h i s i m p l i e s t h a t the w h o l e scheme suggested by Hobbes requires for i t s operation t h e w e a k e n i n g or, rather, the e l i m i n a t i o n of the fear of i n v i s i b l e powers. It requires such a r a d i c a l c h a n g e of orientation as can be brought about o n l y by the disenchantment of the w o r l d , by the diffusion of scientific k n o w l e d g e , or by popular enlightenment. Hobbes's is the first doctrine t h a t necessarily and u n m i s t a k a b l y points to a t h o r o u g h l y " e n l i g h t e n e d , " i . e . , a - r e l i g i o u s o r a t h e i s t i c soc i e t y as the solution of the social or p o l i t i c a l problem. T h i s most important i m p l i c a t i o n of Hobbes's doctrine w a s m a d e e x p l i c i t not m a n y y e a r s after h i s d e a t h b y Pierre B a y l e , w h o attempted to prove t h a t an a t h e i s t i c society is p o s s i b l e . 42

43

42. Leviathan, chaps, xiv (92) and xxix (215); cf. also ibid., chap, xxxviii beginning; De cive, VI, 11; XII, 2, 5; XVII, 25 and 27. 43. A good reason for connecting Bayle's famous thesis with Hobbes's doctrine rather than with that of Faustus Socinus, e.g., is supplied by the following statement


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It i s , then, o n l y t h r o u g h the prospect of popular e n l i g h t e n ment t h a t Hobbes's doctrine acquired such consistency as it possesses. The virtues w h i c h he ascribed to enlightenment are indeed e x t r a o r d i n a r y . The p o w e r of a m b i t i o n and a v a r i c e , he s a y s , rests on the false opinions of the v u l g a r r e g a r d i n g r i g h t and w r o n g ; therefore, once the principles of justice are k n o w n w i t h m a t h e m a t i c a l c e r t a i n t y , a m b i t i o n and avarice w i l l become p o w e r l e s s and the h u m a n race w i l l enjoy l a s t i n g peace. For, o b v i o u s l y , m a t h e m a t i c a l k n o w l e d g e of the principles of justice ( i . e . , the n e w doctrine o f n a t u r a l r i g h t and the n e w n a t u r a l public l a w t h a t i s b u i l t o n i t ) cannot destroy t h e w r o n g opinions of the v u l g a r , if the v u l g a r are not apprised of the results of t h a t m a t h e m a t i c a l k n o w l e d g e . P l a t o h a d s a i d t h a t e v i l s w i l l not cease from the c i t i e s if the philosophers do not become k i n g s or if p h i l o s o p h y and p o l i t i c a l p o w e r do not coincide. He h a d expected such s a l v a t i o n for m o r t a l nature as can r e a s o n a b l y be expected, from a coincidence over w h i c h of Bayle (Dictionnaire, art. "Hobbes," rem. D): "Hobbes se fit beaucoup d'ennemis par cet ouvrage [De cive]; mais il fit avouer aux plus clairvoyants, qu'on n'avait jamais si bien pénétré les fondements de la politique." I cannot prove here that Hobbes was an atheist, even according to his own view of atheism. I must limit myself to asking the reader to compare De cive, XV, 14, with English Works, IV, 349. Many present-day scholars who write on subjects of this kind do not seem to have a sufficient notion of the degree of circumspection or of accommodation to the accepted views that was required, in former ages, of "deviationists" who desired to survive or to die in peace. Those scholars tacitly assume that the pages in Hobbes's writings devoted to religious subjects can be understood if they are read in the way in which one ought to read the corresponding utterances, say, of Lord Bertrand Russell. In other words, I am familiar with the fact that there are innumerable passages in Hobbes's writings which were used by Hobbes and which can be used by everyone else for proving that Hobbes was a theist and even a good Anglican. The prevalent procedure would merely lead to historical errors, if to grave historical errors, but for the fact that its results are employed for buttressing the dogma that the mind of the individual is incapable of liberating itself from the opinions which rule his society. Hobbes's last word on the question of public worship is that the commonwealth may establish public worship. If the commonwealth fails to establish public worship, i.e., if it allows "many sorts of worship," as it may, " i t cannot be said . . . that the commonwealth is of any religion at a l l " (cf. Leviathan, chap, xxxi [240] with the Latin version [p.m. 171])-

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p h i l o s o p h y h a s no control but for w h i c h one can o n l y w i s h or p r a y . Hobbes, on the other h a n d , w a s certain t h a t p h i l o s o p h y itself can bring about the coincidence of p h i l o s o p h y and p o l i t i c a l p o w e r by becoming popularized p h i l o s o p h y and t h u s publ i c opinion. Chance w i l l be conquered by s y s t e m a t i c p h i l o s o phy issuing in systematic enlightenment: Paulatim cruditur vulgus. 44

By devising the right kind of institutions and by enl i g h t e n i n g the citizen body, p h i l o s o p h y g u a r a n t e e s the solution of the social problem, w h o s e solution cannot be g u a r a n teed by man if it is t h o u g h t to depend on m o r a l discipline. Opposing the " u t o p i a n i s m " of t h e classics, Hobbes w a s concerned w i t h a social order w h o s e a c t u a l i z a t i o n is probable and even certain. The g u a r a n t y of i t s a c t u a l i z a t i o n m i g h t seem to be supplied by the fact t h a t the sound social order is based on the most powerful passion and t h e r e w i t h on the most powerful force in m a n . But if the fear of violent death is t r u l y the strongest force in man, one should expect the desired social order a l w a y s , or almost a l w a y s , to be in existence, because it w i l l be produced by natural necessity, by the n a t u r a l order. Hobbes overcomes t h i s difficulty by assuming t h a t men in their s t u p i d i t y interfere w i t h the n a t u r a l order. The r i g h t soc i a l order does not n o r m a l l y come about by n a t u r a l necessity on account of m a n ' s ignorance of t h a t order. The " i n v i s i b l e 44. De cive, Ep. ded.; cf. De corpore, I, 7: the cause of civil war is ignorance of the causes of wars and of peace; hence the remedy is moral philosophy. Accordingly Hobbes, characteristically deviating from Aristotle (Politics 1302"35 ff.), seeks the causes of rebellion chiefly in false doctrines (Dc cive, XII). The belief in the prospects of popular enlightenment—De homine, XIV, 13; Leviathan, chaps, xviii (119), xxx (221, 224-25), and xxxi end—is based on the view that the natural inequality of human beings in regard to intellectual gifts is inconsiderable (Leviathan, chaps, xiii [80] and xv [100]; De cive, III, 13). Hobbes's expectation from enlightenment seems to be contradicted by his belief in the power of passion, and especially of pride or ambition. The contradiction is solved by the consideration that the ambition which endangers civil society is characteristic of a minority: of "the rich and potent subjects of a kingdom, or those that are accounted the most learned"; if "the common people," whom necessity "keepeth attent on their trades, and labour," are properly taught, the ambition and avarice of the few will become powerless. Cf. also English Works, IV, 443-44.

MODERN

NATURAL

RIGHT

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h a n d " r e m a i n s ineffectual if it is not supported by the Leviathan or, if y o u w i s h , by the Wealth of Nations. There is a r e m a r k a b l e p a r a l l e l i s m and an even more remarkable discrepancy between Hobbes's theoretical p h i l o s o p h y and h i s p r a c t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y . In both p a r t s of h i s p h i l o s o p h y , he teaches t h a t reason is impotent and t h a t it is omnipotent, or t h a t reason is omnipotent because it is impotent. Reason is impotent because reason or h u m a n i t y have no cosmic support: the universe is u n i n t e l l i g i b l e , and nature " d i s s o c i a t e s " men. But the v e r y fact t h a t the universe is u n i n t e l l i g i b l e permits reason to rest satisfied w i t h its free constructs, to e s t a b l i s h t h r o u g h i t s constructs an Archimedean basis of operations, and to a n t i c i p a t e an unlimited progress in its conquest of nature. Reason is impotent a g a i n s t passion, but it can become omnipotent if it co-operates w i t h the strongest passion or if it puts itself into the service of the strongest passion. Hobbes's r a t i o n a l i s m , then, rests u l t i m a t e l y on the conviction t h a t , t h a n k s to n a t u r e ' s kindness, the strongest passion is the o n l y passion w h i c h can be " t h e o r i g i n of l a r g e and l a s t i n g societ i e s " or t h a t the strongest passion is the most r a t i o n a l passion. In the case of h u m a n t h i n g s , the foundation is not a free construct but t h e most powerful n a t u r a l force in man. In the case o f h u m a n t h i n g s , w e understand not merely w h a t w e m a k e but also w h a t m a k e s our m a k i n g and our m a k i n g s . W h e r e a s the p h i l o s o p h y or science of nature remains fundamentally h y p o t h e t i c a l , p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y rests on a nonhypothetical k n o w l e d g e of the nature of m a n . As long as Hobbes's a p proach p r e v a i l s , " t h e p h i l o s o p h y concerned w i t h the h u m a n t h i n g s " w i l l remain the last refuge of nature. For at some point nature succeeds in g e t t i n g a h e a r i n g . The modern contention t h a t m a n can " c h a n g e the w o r l d " o r " p u s h back n a t u r e " is not unreasonable. One can even safely go much beyond it and s a y t h a t m a n can expel nature w i t h a hayfork. One ceases 45

45. Cf. n. 9 above.

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to be reasonable o n l y if one forgets w h a t the philosophic poet adds, tamen usque recurret. B.

LOCKE

At first glance Locke seems to reject a l t o g e t h e r Hobbes's notion of n a t u r a l l a w and to follow the t r a d i t i o n a l t e a c h i n g . He c e r t a i n l y speaks of m a n ' s n a t u r a l r i g h t s as if t h e y were d e r i v a t i v e from the l a w of nature, a n d he a c c o r d i n g l y speaks of the l a w of nature as if it w e r e a l a w in the strict sense of the term. The l a w of nature imposes perfect duties on man as man, regardless of w h e t h e r he l i v e s in the state of nature or in c i v i l society. " T h e l a w of nature stands as an eternal rule to a l l m e n , " for it is " p l a i n and i n t e l l i g i b l e to a l l r a t i o n a l creat u r e s . " I t i s identical w i t h " t h e l a w o f r e a s o n . " I t i s " k n o w able by the l i g h t of n a t u r e ; t h a t i s , w i t h o u t the h e l p of positive r e v e l a t i o n . " Locke considers it e n t i r e l y possible for the l a w of nature or the moral l a w to be raised to the r a n k of a demonstrative science. T h a t science w o u l d m a k e out "from self-evident propositions, by necessary consequences . . . the measures o f r i g h t and w r o n g . " M a n w o u l d t h u s become able to elaborate "a body of e t h i c s , proved to be the l a w of nature, from principles of reason, and t e a c h i n g a l l the duties of l i f e , " or " t h e entire body of the ' l a w of n a t u r e , ' " or "complete m o r a l i t y , " or a " c o d e " w h i c h g i v e s us the l a w of nature " e n t i r e . " T h a t code w o u l d contain, among other t h i n g s , the n a t u r a l penal l a w . Y e t Locke never made a serious effort to elaborate t h a t code. His failure to e m b a r k on t h i s great enterprise w a s due to the problem posed by t h e o l o g y . 4 6

47

The l a w of nature is a declaration of the w i l l of God. It is " t h e voice of G o d " in man. It can therefore be called the " l a w 46. Treatises of Government, I, sees. 86, 101; II, sees. 6, 12, 30, 96, 118, 124, 135. An Essay concerning Human Understanding, I, 3, sec. 13, and IV, 3, sec. 18. The Reasonableness of Christianity (The Works of John Locke in Nine Volumes, VI [London, 1824], 140-42). 47. Cf. Descartes's "Auctor non libenter scribit ethica" (Œuvres, cd. Adam-Tannery, V, 178).


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o f G o d " o r " d i v i n e l a w " o r even the " e t e r n a l l a w " ; i t i s " t h e h i g h e s t l a w . " It is the l a w of God not o n l y in fact. It must be k n o w n to be the l a w of God in order to be l a w . W i t h o u t such k n o w l e d g e m a n cannot act m o r a l l y . For " t h e true ground of m o r a l i t y . . . can o n l y be the w i l l and l a w of a G o d . " The l a w of nature can be demonstrated because the existence and the a t t r i b u t e s of God can be demonstrated. T h i s divine l a w is p r o m u l g a t e d , not o n l y in or by reason, but by r e v e l a t i o n as w e l l . In fact, it first became k n o w n to man in i t s e n t i r e t y by r e v e l a t i o n , but reason confirms t h i s divine l a w t h u s revealed. T h i s does not mean t h a t God did not reveal to man some l a w s w h i c h are p u r e l y p o s i t i v e : the distinction between the l a w o f reason, w h i c h obliges man as m a n , and the l a w revealed in thegospel, w h i c h obliges C h r i s t i a n s , i s preserved b y L o c k e . 48

One m a y w o n d e r w h e t h e r w h a t Locke s a y s about the r e l a tion between the l a w of nature and the revealed l a w is free from difficulties. However t h i s m a y be, h i s t e a c h i n g is e x posed to a more fundamental and more obvious difficulty, to a difficulty w h i c h seems to endanger the v e r y notion of a l a w of nature. He s a y s , on the one hand, t h a t , in order to be a l a w , the l a w of nature must not o n l y h a v e been given by God and be k n o w n to have been given by God, but it must in a d d i t i o n h a v e as i t s sanctions divine " r e w a r d s and punishments, of infinite w e i g h t and duration, in another l i f e . " On the other h a n d , h o w e v e r , he s a y s t h a t reason cannot demonstrate t h a t there is another life. Only t h r o u g h r e v e l a t i o n do we k n o w of the sanctions for the l a w of nature or of " t h e o n l y true touchstone of m o r a l r e c t i t u d e . " N a t u r a l reason is therefore unable 48. Treatises, I, sees. 39, 56, 59, 63, 86, 88, 89, 111, 124, 126, 128, 166; II, sees. 1, 4, 6, 25, 52, 135, 136 n., 142, 195; Essay, I, 3, sees. 6 and 1 3 ; II, 28, sec. 8; IV, 3, sec. 18, and 10, sec. 7; Reasonableness, pp. 13, 115, 140, 144 ("the highest law, the law of nature"), 145; A Second Vindication of the Reasonableness of Christianity (Works, VI, 229): "As men, we have God for our king, and are under the law of reason: as Christians, we have Jesus the Messiah for our king, and are under the law revealed by him in the gospel. And though every Christian, both as a deist and a Christian, be obliged to study both the law of nature and the revealed law. . . ." Cf. n. 51 below.

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t o k n o w the l a w o f nature a s a l a w . T h i s w o u l d mean t h a t there does not e x i s t a l a w of nature in t h e strict sense. T h i s difficulty is apparently overcome by the fact t h a t " t h e v e r a c i t y of God is a demonstration of the truth of w h a t he h a s r e v e a l e d . " T h a t is to s a y , n a t u r a l reason is indeed unable to demonstrate t h a t t h e souls of men s h a l l l i v e forever. But natural reason is able to demonstrate t h a t the N e w Testament is the perfect document of revelation. And since the N e w Testament teaches t h a t the souls of men s h a l l l i v e forever, n a t u r a l reason is able to demonstrate the true ground of m o r a l i t y and t h e r e w i t h to e s t a b l i s h the d i g n i t y of t h e l a w of nature as a true law. 60

By demonstrating t h a t the N e w Testament is a document of revelation, one demonstrates t h a t the l a w p r o m u l g a t e d by Jesus is a l a w in the proper sense of t h e term. T h i s divine l a w 49. Essay, I, 3, sees. 5, 6, 13; II, 28, sec. 8; IV, 3, sec. 29; Reasonableness, p. 144: "But where was it that their obligation [the obligation of the just measures of right and wrong] was thoroughly known and allowed, and they received as precepts of a law; of the highest law, the law of nature? That could not be, without a clear knowledge and acknowledgment of the law-maker, and the great rewards and punishments, for those that would, or would not obey him." Ibid., pp. 150-51: "The view of heaven and hell will cast a slight upon the short pleasures of this present state, and give attractions and encouragements to virtue which reason and interest, and the care of ourselves, cannot but allow and prefer. Upon this foundation, and upon this only, morality stands firm, and may defy all competition." Second Reply to the Bishop of Worcester (Works, III, 489; see also 474 and 480): "So unmovable is that truth delivered by the Spirit of truth, that though the light of nature gave some obscure glimmering, some uncertain hopes of a future state, yet human reason could attain to no clearness, no certainty about it, but that it was Jesus Christ alone who had 'brought life and immortality to light through the gospel' . . . this article of revelation, which . . . the Scripture assures us is established and made certain only by revelation." (The italics are not in the original.) 50. Second Reply to the Bishop of Worcester, p. 476. Cf. ibid., p. 281: "I think it is possible to be certain upon the testimony of God . . . where I know that it is the testimony of God; because in such a case, that testimony is capable not only to make me believe, but, if I consider it right, to make me know the thing to be so; and so I may be certain. For the veracity of God is as capable of making me know a proposition to be true, as any other way of proof can be, and therefore I do not in such a case barely believe, but know such a proposition to be true, and attain certainty." See also Essay, IV, 16, sec. 14.


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proves to be in full conformity w i t h reason; it proves to be the a b s o l u t e l y comprehensive and perfect formulation of the l a w of n a t u r e . One is t h u s led to see t h a t unassisted reason w o u l d h a v e been unable to discover the l a w of nature in its e n t i r e t y , but t h a t the reason w h i c h h a s learned from revelation can recognize t h e t h o r o u g h l y reasonable character of the l a w revealed in t h e N e w Testament. A comparison of the N e w Testament t e a c h i n g w i t h a l l other moral teachings s h o w s t h a t the entire l a w of nature is a v a i l a b l e in the N e w Testament, and o n l y in the N e w Testament. The entire l a w of nature is a v a i l able o n l y in the N e w Testament, and it is there a v a i l a b l e in perfect c l a r i t y and p l a i n n e s s . 61

If " t h e surest, the safest and most effectual w a y of t e a c h i n g " the entire l a w of n a t u r e , and hence any part of it, is supplied by " t h e inspired b o o k s " ; the complete and perfectly clear natural l a w t e a c h i n g concerning government i n p a r t i c u l a r w o u l d consist of p r o p e r l y arranged q u o t a t i o n s from Scripture and e s p e c i a l l y from the N e w Testament. A c c o r d i n g l y , one w o u l d e x pect t h a t L o c k e w o u l d h a v e w r i t t e n a " P o l i t i q u e tirée des propres paroles de l'Écriture S a i n t e . " But, in fact, he w r o t e h i s Two Treatises of Government. W h a t he did stands in s t r i k i n g 51. Reasonableness, p. 139: "It should seem, by the little that has hitherto been done 'n it, that it is too hard a task for unassisted reason to establish morality in all its parts, upon its true foundation, with a clear and convincing l i g h t . " Ibid., pp. 142-43: "It is true, there is a law of nature : but who is there who ever did, or undertook to give it us all entire, as a law; no more, nor no less, than what was contained in, and had the obligation of that law? Who ever made out all the parts of it, put them together, and showed the world their obligation? Where was there any such code, that mankind might have recourse to, as their unerring rule, before our Saviour's time? . . . Such a law of morality Jesus Christ hath given us in the New Testament . . . by revelation. We have from him a full and sufficient rule for our direction, and conformable to that of reason." Ibid., p. 147: "And then there needs no more, but to read the inspired books, to be instructed: all the duties of morality lie there clear, and plain, and easy to be understood. And here I appeal, whether this be not the surest, the safest, and most effectual way of teaching: especially, if we add this further consideration, that as it suits the lowest capacities of reasonable creatures, so it reaches and satisfies, nay, enlightens the highest." (The italics are not in the original.)

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contrast t o w h a t h e s a i d . H e himself " a l w a y s t h o u g h t the actions of men the best interpreters of their t h o u g h t s . " If we a p p l y t h i s rule t o w h a t w a s perhaps h i s greatest action, w e are forced to suspect t h a t he encountered some hidden obstacles on h i s w a y t o w a r d a s t r i c t l y scriptural n a t u r a l l a w teaching reg a r d i n g government. He m i g h t h a v e become a w a r e of difficulties obstructing e i t h e r the demonstration of the revealed character of Scripture or the equation of the New Testament l a w w i t h the l a w of nature or both. 52

Locke w o u l d not h a v e d w e l t on these difficulties. He w a s a cautious w r i t e r . The fact t h a t he is g e n e r a l l y k n o w n as a cautious w r i t e r s h o w s , however, t h a t h i s caution i s obtrusive, and therefore perhaps not w h a t is o r d i n a r i l y understood by caution. A t a n y rate, the scholars w h o note t h a t Locke w a s cautious do not a l w a y s consider t h a t the term " c a u t i o n " desi g n a t e s a v a r i e t y of phenomena and t h a t the o n l y a u t h e n t i c interpreter of L o c k e ' s caution is L o c k e himself. In p a r t i c u l a r , present-day scholars do not consider the p o s s i b i l i t y t h a t procedures w h i c h t h e y , from their point of v i e w , j u s t l y regard as v e r g i n g on the unseemly m i g h t h a v e been regarded in other a g e s , and by men of another t y p e , as e n t i r e l y unobjectionable. Caution is a k i n d of noble fear. " C a u t i o n ' ' means something different w h e n applied to t h e o r y t h a n w h e n applied to practice or p o l i t i c s . A theoretician w i l l not be c a l l e d cautious if he does not m a k e clear in each case the v a l u e of the various a r g u ments w h i c h he e m p l o y s or if he suppresses a n y relevant fact. A man of affairs w h o is c a u t i o u s in t h i s sense w o u l d be blamed as l a c k i n g in caution. There m a y be e x t r e m e l y relevant facts w h i c h , if stressed, w o u l d inflame p o p u l a r passion and t h u s prevent the w i s e h a n d l i n g of those v e r y facts. A cautious pol i t i c a l w r i t e r w o u l d state the case for the good cause in a manner w h i c h could be expected to create general good w i l l tow a r d the good cause. He w o u l d a v o i d the mention of every52. Essay, I, 3, sec. 3.


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t h i n g w h i c h w o u l d " d i s p l a c e the veil beneath w h i c h " t h e respectable part of society "dissembles its d i v i s i o n s . " W h e r e a s the c a u t i o u s theoretician w o u l d scorn the appeal to prejudices, the c a u t i o u s man of affairs w o u l d t r y to enlist a l l respectable prejudices in the service of the good cause. " L o g i c a d m i t s of no compromise. The essence of p o l i t i c s is comprom i s e . " A c t i n g i n t h i s spirit, the statesmen w h o w e r e responsible for the settlement of 1689 w h i c h Locke defended in t h e Two Treatises, " c a r e d l i t t l e w h e t h e r t h e i r major agreed w i t h their conclusion, if t h e i r major secured t w o hundred votes, and the conclusion t w o hundred m o r e . " A c t i n g in the same spiri t , L o c k e , in h i s defense of the r e v o l u t i o n a r y settlement, a p pealed as frequently as he could to the a u t h o r i t y of Hooker— of one of the least r e v o l u t i o n a r y men w h o ever l i v e d . He t o o k every a d v a n t a g e of h i s p a r t i a l agreement w i t h Hooker. And he avoided the inconveniences w h i c h m i g h t have been caused by h i s p a r t i a l disagreement w i t h Hooker b y being p r a c t i c a l l y silent about it. Since to w r i t e means to act, he did not proceed in an a l t o g e t h e r different manner w h e n composing h i s most theoretical w o r k , the Essay: " s i n c e not a l l , nor the most of those t h a t believe a God, are at the p a i n s , or h a v e the s k i l l , to e x a m i n e and c l e a r l y comprehend the demonstrations of h i s being, I w a s u n w i l l i n g to s h o w the w e a k n e s s of the argument there spoken of [in Essay, IV, 10, sec. 7 ] ; since possibly by it some men m i g h t be confirmed in the belief of a God, w h i c h is enough to preserve in them true sentiments of r e l i g i o n and m o r a l i t y . " Locke w a s a l w a y s , a s V o l t a i r e l i k e d t o c a l l h i m , " l e sage L o c k e . " 8 3

5 4

Locke h a s explained h i s v i e w of caution most fully in some passages of his Reasonableness of Christianity. Speaking of the ancient philosophers, he s a y s : " T h e r a t i o n a l and t h i n k i n g part of m a n k i n d . . . w h e n t h e y sought after h i m , t h e y found the 53. Macaulay, The History of England (New York: Allison, n.d.), II, 491. 54. Letter to the Bishop of Worcester (Works, III, 53-54).

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one supreme, i n v i s i b l e God; but if t h e y a c k n o w l e d g e d and worshipped h i m , i t w a s o n l y i n t h e i r o w n m i n d s . T h e y kept this truth locked up in their o w n breasts as a secret, nor ever durst venture it amongst the people; much less amongst the priests, those w a r y g u a r d i a n s of t h e i r o w n creeds and profitable i n v e n t i o n s . " Socrates indeed "opposed and l a u g h e d at their p o l y t h e i s m , and w r o n g opinions of the d e i t y ; and we see h o w t h e y rewarded h i m for i t . W h a t s o e v e r P l a t o , and the soberest of the philosophers, t h o u g h t of the nature and being of the one God, t h e y were fain, in t h e i r o u t w a r d professions and w o r s h i p , to go w i t h the herd, a n d k e e p to their r e l i g i o n established b y l a w . . . . " I t does not appear t h a t Locke r e garded the conduct of the ancient philosophers as reprehensible. S t i l l t h a t conduct m i g h t be t h o u g h t to be incompatible w i t h b i b l i c a l m o r a l i t y . Locke did not t h i n k so. W h e n speaking of J e s u s ' " c a u t i o n " or " r e s e r v e d n e s s " or h i s " c o n c e a l i n g himself," he s a y s t h a t Jesus used " w o r d s too doubtful to be l a i d h o l d on a g a i n s t h i m " or w o r d s "obscure and doubtful, and less l i a b l e to be made use of a g a i n s t h i m , " and t h a t he tried " t o keep himself out of the reach of a n y accusation, t h a t m i g h t appear just or w e i g h t y to t h e R o m a n d e p u t y . " J e s u s "perplexed h i s m e a n i n g , " " h i s circumstances being such, t h a t w i t h o u t such a prudent c a r r i a g e and reservedness, he could not h a v e gone t h r o u g h w i t h the w o r k w h i c h he came to do. . . . He so i n v o l v e d h i s sense, t h a t it w a s not e a s y to understand h i m . " If he h a d acted differently, both the J e w i s h and the R o m a n a u t h o r i t i e s w o u l d " h a v e t a k e n a w a y h i s life; a t least they w o u l d h a v e . . . hindered the w o r k he w a s a b o u t . " In a d d i t i o n , if he h a d not been c a u t i o u s , he w o u l d have created "manifest danger of t u m u l t and s e d i t i o n " ; there w o u l d h a v e been "room to fear t h a t [his p r e a c h i n g the t r u t h ] should cause . . . disturbance in civil societies, a n d the governments of the w o r l d . " We see, then, t h a t , according to L o c k e , c a u t i o u s 5 5

55. Reasonableness, pp. 35, 42, 54, 57, 58, 59, 64, 135-36.


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speech is l e g i t i m a t e if unqualified frankness w o u l d hinder a noble w o r k one is t r y i n g to achieve or expose one to persecution or endanger the public peace; and l e g i t i m a t e caution is perfectly compatible w i t h g o i n g w i t h the herd i n one's outw a r d professions or w i t h using a m b i g u o u s l a n g u a g e or w i t h so i n v o l v i n g one's sense t h a t one cannot e a s i l y be understood. Let us assume for a moment t h a t Locke w a s a t h o r o u g h g o i n g r a t i o n a l i s t , i . e . , t h a t he regarded unassisted reason not o n l y as m a n ' s " o n l y star and c o m p a s s " but as sufficient for l e a d i n g m a n to happiness, and hence rejected revelation as superfluous and therefore as impossible. Even in t h a t case h i s principles w o u l d h a r d l y have permitted h i m , given the circumstances in w h i c h he w r o t e , to go beyond contending t h a t he accepted the N e w Testament t e a c h i n g as true because its being revealed h a s been demonstrated and because the rules of conduct w h i c h it conveys express in the most perfect manner the entire l a w of reason. H o w e v e r , to understand w h y he wrote his Two Treatises of Government, and not a " P o l i t i q u e tirée des propres paroles de l'Écriture S a i n t e , " it is not necess a r y to assume t h a t he himself h a d a n y doubts r e g a r d i n g the truth of the t w o contentions mentioned. It suffices to assume t h a t he h a d some m i s g i v i n g s as to w h e t h e r w h a t he w a s inclined to r e g a r d as solid demonstrations w a s l i k e l y to appear in the same l i g h t to a l l h i s readers. For if he h a d a n y m i s g i v i n g s of t h i s k i n d , he w a s forced to m a k e h i s p o l i t i c a l t e a c h i n g , i . e . , h i s n a t u r a l l a w teaching concerning the r i g h t s and duties of rulers a n d of subjects, as independent of Scripture as it could p o s s i b l y be. 66

To see w h y Locke could not be sure w h e t h e r a l l h i s readers w o u l d r e g a r d the revealed character of the New Testament as d e m o n s t r a t i v e l y certain, one merely h a s to look at w h a t he considered t h e proof of J e s u s ' divine mission. T h a t proof is supplied by " t h e m u l t i t u d e of m i r a c l e s he did before a l l sorts 56. Treatises, I, sec. 58.

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of p e o p l e . " N o w , according to L o c k e , w h o in t h i s point is t a c i t l y f o l l o w i n g Spinoza, one cannot prove t h a t a g i v e n phenomenon is a m i r a c l e by proving t h a t t h e phenomenon in question is supernatural; for, in order to prove t h a t a phenomenon cannot be due to n a t u r a l causes, one m u s t k n o w the l i m i t s of the p o w e r of n a t u r e , and such k n o w l e d g e is h a r d l y a v a i l a b l e . It is sufficient t h a t the phenomenon w h i c h is s a i d to attest a m a n ' s divine mission shows greater p o w e r t h a n the phenomena w h i c h are said to disprove h i s c l a i m . It m a y be doubted w h e t h e r one can t h u s establish a clear distinction between miracles and nonmiracles, or w h e t h e r a demonstrative a r g u ment can be based on L o c k e ' s notion of m i r a c l e s . At a n y r a t e , i n order t o c a r r y w e i g h t w i t h people w h o w e r e not e y e w i t nesses, the m i r a c l e s must be sufficiently attested. The Old Testament m i r a c l e s were not sufficiently attested to convince the p a g a n s , but the miracles of J e s u s a n d the Apostles w e r e sufficiently attested to convince a l l men, so much so, t h a t " t h e miracles [Jesus] did . . . never w e r e , nor could be denied by any of the enemies, or opposers of C h r i s t i a n i t y . " T h i s e x t r a o r d i n a r i l y bold statement is p a r t i c u l a r l y surprising in the mouth of a most competent contemporary of Hobbes and Spinoza. One could perhaps find L o c k e ' s remark less strange if one could be certain t h a t he w a s not w e l l read in " t h o s e j u s t l y 6 7

5 7 . "A discourse of miracles," Works, VIII, 260-64; Kiasonabltniss, pp. 1 3 5 and 146. Ibid., pp. 1 3 7 - 3 8 : the Old Testament "revelation was shut up in a little corner of the world. . . . The gentile world, in our Saviour's time, and several ages before, could have no attestation of the miracles on which the Hebrews built their faith, but from the Jews themselves, a people not known to the greatest part of mankind; contemned and thought vilely of, by those nations that did know them. . . . But our Saviour . . . did not confine his miracles or message to the land of Canaan, or the worshippers at Jerusalem. But he himself preached at Samaria, and did miracles in the borders of Tyre and Sidon, and before multitudes of people gathered from all quarters. And after his resurrection, sent apostles amongst the nations, accompanied with miracles; which were done in all parrs so frequently, and before so many witnesses of all sorts, in broad day-light, that . . . the enemies of Christianity have never dared to deny them; no, not Julian himself: who neither wanted skill nor power to inquire into the truth." Cf. n. 59 below.


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58

d e c r i e d " a u t h o r s . But must one be w e l l read in Hobbes and Spinoza in order to k n o w t h a t t h e y deny the r e a l i t y , or at least the c e r t a i n t y , of a n y miracles? And w o u l d not L o c k e ' s l a c k of f a m i l i a r i t y w i t h Hobbes's and Spinoza's w r i t i n g s considerably detract from h i s competence as a late-seventeenth-century w r i t e r on subjects of t h i s kind? Quite apart from t h i s , if no one denies the m i r a c l e s reported in the N e w Testament, it w o u l d seem to f o l l o w t h a t a l l men are C h r i s t i a n s , for " w h e r e the miracle is a d m i t t e d , the doctrine cannot be r e j e c t e d . " Y e t Locke k n e w t h a t there were men w h o w e r e f a m i l i a r w i t h the N e w Testament w i t h o u t being believing C h r i s t i a n s : h i s Reasonableness of Christianity, in w h i c h h i s most e m p h a t i c statements r e g a r d i n g the N e w Testament miracles occur, w a s "chiefly designed for d e i s t s , " of w h o m there w a s a p p a r e n t l y " a great n u m b e r " i n his t i m e . Since Locke k n e w , a s h e adm i t t e d , of the existence of deists in h i s a g e and country, he must h a v e been a w a r e of the fact t h a t a p o l i t i c a l t e a c h i n g based on Scripture w o u l d not be u n i v e r s a l l y accepted as unq u e s t i o n a b l y true, at least not w i t h o u t a previous and v e r y 59

60

58. Second Reply to the Bishop of Worcester, p. 477: "I am not so well read in Hobbes or Spinoza, as to be able to say what were their opinions in this matter [the life after death]. But possibly there be those who will think your Lordship's authority of more use to them in the case, than those justly decried names." A Second Vindication of the Reasonableness of Christianity (Works, VI, 420): "I . . . did not know these words, he quoted out of the Leviathan, were there or any thing like them. Nor do I know yet, any farther than as I believe them to be there, from his quotation." 59. "A Discourse of Miracles," p. 259. Perhaps it will be suggested that Locke made a subtle distinction between "not denying the miracles" and "admitting the miracles." In that case the fact that the miracles reported in the New Testament were never denied and cannot be denied would not prove the divine mission of Jesus, and there would not exist any demonstrative proof of it. At any rate, the suggestion mentioned is contradicted by what Locke says elsewhere. Cf. Second Vindication, p. 340: "The principal of these [marks peculiarly appropriated to the Messiah] is his resurrection from the dead; which being the great and demonstrative proof of his being a Messiah . . . " with ibid., p. 342: "His being or not being the Messiah, stands or falls with [his resurrection] . . . believe one, and you believe both; deny one of them, and you can believe neither." 60. Second Vindication, pp. 164, 264-65, 375.

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complex argument for w h i c h we seek in v a i n in h i s w r i t i n g s . One can state the issue in simpler terms as f o l l o w s : The v e r a c i t y of God is indeed a demonstration of a n y proposition w h i c h he h a s revealed. Yet " t h e w h o l e strength of the cert a i n t y depends upon our k n o w l e d g e t h a t God r e v e a l e d " the proposition in question, or " o u r assurance can be no greater t h a n our k n o w l e d g e i s , t h a t it is a revelation from G o d . " And at l e a s t as regards a l l men w h o k n o w of revelation o n l y t h r o u g h t r a d i t i o n , " t h e k n o w l e d g e w e have t h a t t h i s revelation came at first from God, can never be so sure as the k n o w l edge we have from the clear and distinct perception of t h e agreement or disagreement of our o w n i d e a s . " A c c o r d i n g l y , our assurance t h a t the souls of men s h a l l l i v e forever belongs to the province of faith and not to t h a t of r e a s o n . Yet since w i t h o u t t h a t assurance " t h e just measures of r i g h t and w r o n g " do not h a v e t h e character of a l a w , those just measures are not a l a w for reason. T h i s w o u l d mean t h a t there does not exist a l a w of nature. Therefore, if there is to be "a l a w k n o w a b l e by the l i g h t of nature, t h a t i s , w i t h o u t the help of positive r e v e l a t i o n , " t h a t l a w must consist of a set of rules w h o s e v a l i d i t y does not presuppose life after death or belief in a life after death. 61

Such rules were established by the classical philosophers. The p a g a n philosophers, " w h o spoke from reason, made not much mention of the D e i t y in t h e i r e t h i c s . ' ' T h e y showed t h a t v i r t u e " i s the perfection and the excellency of our n a t u r e ; t h a t she is herself a r e w a r d , and w i l l recommend our names to future a g e s , " but t h e y left " h e r u n e n d o w e d . " For t h e y w e r e 62

61. Essay, IV, 18, sees. 4-8; cf. n. 50 above. 62. From this it follows that, "however strange it may seem, the law-maker hath nothing to do with moral virtues and vices" but is limited in his function to the preservation of property (cf. Treatises, II, sec. 124; and J. W. Gough, John Locke's Political Philosophy [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1950], p. 190). If virtue by itself is ineffectual, civil society must have a foundation other than human perfection or the inclination toward it; it must be based on the strongest desire in man, the desire for self-preservation, and therefore on his concern with property.


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unable to s h o w a necessary connection between virtue and prosperity or happiness, a connection w h i c h is not v i s i b l e in t h i s life and w h i c h can be g u a r a n t e e d o n l y if there is a life after d e a t h . S t i l l , w h i l e unassisted reason cannot establish a necessary connection between virtue and prosperity or h a p p i ness, the c l a s s i c a l philosophers realized, and p r a c t i c a l l y a l l men r e a l i z e , a necessary connection between a k i n d of prosp e r i t y or happiness and a k i n d or p a r t of v i r t u e . There e x i s t s , indeed, a v i s i b l e connection between " p u b l i c h a p p i n e s s " or " t h e prosperity and temporal happiness of any p e o p l e " and the general compliance w i t h "several m o r a l r u l e s . " These r u l e s , w h i c h a p p a r e n t l y are a part of t h e complete l a w of n a t u r e , " m a y receive from m a n k i n d a v e r y general approbation, without either k n o w i n g or a d m i t t i n g the true ground of m o r a l i t y ; w h i c h can o n l y be the w i l l and l a w of a God, w h o sees men in the d a r k , h a s in h i s hands r e w a r d s and punishments, and p o w e r enough to call to account the proudest offender." But even if, and precisely if, those rules are divorced from " t h e true ground of m o r a l i t y , " t h e y stand " o n their true foundat i o n s " : " [ P r i o r to J e s u s ] , those just measures of r i g h t and w r o n g , w h i c h necessity h a d a n y w h e r e introduced, the c i v i l l a w s prescribed, or philosophers recommended, stood on their true foundations. T h e y were l o o k e d on as bonds of society, and conveniencies of common life, and l a u d a b l e p r a c t i c e s . " H o w ever doubtful the status of the complete l a w of nature m a y have become in L o c k e ' s t h o u g h t , the p a r t i a l l a w of nature 63

64

63. Reasonableness, pp. 148-49: "Virtue and prosperity do not often accompany one another; and therefore virtue seldom had any followers. And it is no wonder she prevailed not much in a state, where the inconveniencies that attended her were visible, and at hand; and the rewards doubtful, and at a distance. Mankind, who are and must be allowed to pursue their happiness, nay, cannot be hindered; could not but think themselves excused from a strict observation of rules, which appeared so little to consist of their chief end, happiness; whilst they kept them from the enjoyments of this life; and they had little evidence and security of another." Cf. ibid., pp. 139, 142-44, 150-51; Essay, I, 3, sec. 5, and II, 28, sec. 10-12. 64. Reasonableness, pp. 144 and 139; Essay, I, 3, sees. 4, 6, and 10 (the italics are not in the original); Treatises, II, sees. 7, 42, and 107.

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which is limited to w h a t "political happiness"—a "good of m a n k i n d in t h i s w o r l d " — e v i d e n t l y requires w o u l d seem to h a v e stood firm. O n l y this p a r t i a l l a w of nature can h a v e been recognized by h i m , in the l a s t a n a l y s i s , as a l a w of reason and t h e r e w i t h as t r u l y a l a w of nature. W e must n o w consider the r e l a t i o n between w h a t w e c a l l for the time being the p a r t i a l l a w of nature and the N e w Testament l a w . If " n o more nor no l e s s " t h a n the entire l a w of nature is supplied by the N e w Testament, i f " a l l the p a r t s " of the l a w of nature are made out in the N e w Testament in a manner w h i c h is " c l e a r , p l a i n , and e a s y to be understood," the N e w Testament must contain in p a r t i c u l a r clear and p l a i n expressions of those prescriptions of the l a w of nature w i t h w h i c h men must comply for the sake of p o l i t i c a l h a p p i n e s s . According to L o c k e , one of the rules of " t h e l a w of God and n a t u r e " is to the effect t h a t the government " m u s t not raise t a x e s on the property of the people w i t h o u t t h e consent of the people, given by themselves or their d e p u t i e s . " Locke does not even attempt to confirm t h i s rule by clear and p l a i n statements of Scripture. Another very important and characteristic rule of the l a w of nature as Locke understands i t , denies to the conqueror a r i g h t and t i t l e to the possessions of the v a n q u i s h e d : even in a just w a r the conqueror m a y not "dispossess the post e r i t y of the v a n q u i s h e d . " Locke himself a d m i t s t h a t t h i s " w i l l seem a strange d o c t r i n e , " i . e . , a novel doctrine. In fact, it w o u l d seem t h a t the opposite doctrine is at least as much w a r r a n t e d by Scripture as is L o c k e ' s . He quotes more t h a n once J e p h t h a ' s s a y i n g " t h e Lord the J u d g e be j u d g e " ; but he fails even to a l l u d e to the fact t h a t J e p h t h a ' s statement is made in the context of a controversy about the r i g h t of conquest, as w e l l as to J e p h t h a ' s entirely un-Lockean v i e w of the r i g h t s of the conqueror. One is tempted to s a y t h a t J e p h t h a ' s state66

66

65. Cf. also Essay, II, 28, sec. 11. 66. Treatises, II, sees. 142 (cf. sec. 136 n . ) , 180, 184; cf. also n. 51 above. Ibid., sees. 21, 176, 241; cf. Judges 11:12-24; cf. also Hobbes's Leviathan, chap, xxiv (162).


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ment, w h i c h refers to a controversy between t w o n a t i o n s , is used by L o c k e as the locus classicus concerning controversies between t h e government and the people. The statement of J e p h t h a t a k e s the place in L o c k e ' s doctrine of P a u l ' s statement " L e t every soul be subject to the h i g h e r p o w e r s , " w h i c h he h a r d l y , if ever, q u o t e s . 67

In a d d i t i o n , L o c k e ' s p o l i t i c a l t e a c h i n g stands or falls by h i s n a t u r a l l a w teaching concerning the beginnings of p o l i t i c a l societies. The l a t t e r t e a c h i n g cannot w e l l be based on Scripture because t h a t beginning of a p o l i t i c a l society w i t h w h i c h the Bible is chiefly concerned—that of the J e w i s h s t a t e — w a s the o n l y b e g i n n i n g of a p o l i t i c a l society w h i c h w a s not n a t u r a l . Furthermore, L o c k e ' s entire p o l i t i c a l teaching i s based on the assumption of a state of n a t u r e . This assumption is w h o l l y a l i e n to the B i b l e . The f o l l o w i n g fact is sufficiently rev e a l i n g : in the Second Treatise of Government, in w h i c h Locke sets forth h i s o w n doctrine, e x p l i c i t references to the state of nature abound; in the First Treatise, in w h i c h he criticizes F i l m e r ' s a l l e g e d l y scriptural doctrine of the divine r i g h t of k i n g s and therefore uses much more b i b l i c a l m a t e r i a l t h a n in the Second Treatise, there occurs, if I am not m i s t a k e n , o n l y one mention of the state of n a t u r e . From the b i b l i c a l point of v i e w , the i m p o r t a n t distinction is the distinction, not between the state of nature and the state of c i v i l society, but bet w e e n the state of innocence and the state after the F a l l . The state of n a t u r e , as L o c k e conceives of i t , is not i d e n t i c a l w i t h either the state of innocence or the state after the F a l l . If there is a n y place at a l l in b i b l i c a l h i s t o r y for L o c k e ' s state of n a 6 8

69

67. Cf. especially the quotation from Hooker in Treatises, II, sec. 90 n., with the context in Hooker: in Hooker the passage quoted by Locke is immediately preceded by the quotation of Romans 13:1. Paul's statement occurs in a quotation (Treatises, sec. 237). Cf. also ibid., sec. 13, where Locke refers to an objection in which the statement occurs that "God hath certainly appointed government," a statement which does not occur in Locke's rejoinder. 68. Treatises, II, sees. 101, 109, and 115. 69. Ibid., I, sec. 90.

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ture, the state of nature w o u l d begin after the flood, i . e . , a l o n g time after the F a l l ; for prior to G o d ' s grant to N o a h and h i s sons, men d i d not have the n a t u r a l r i g h t to meat w h i c h is a consequence of the n a t u r a l r i g h t to self-preservation, and the state of nature is the state in w h i c h every man h a s " a l l the r i g h t s and p r i v i l e g e s of the l a w of n a t u r e . " N o w , if the state of nature begins a long time after t h e F a l l , the state of nature w o u l d seem to p a r t a k e of a l l characteristics of " t h e corrupt state of degenerate m e n . " In fact, h o w e v e r , it is a "poor but virtuous a g e , " an a g e characterized by "innocence and sinc e r i t y , " not t o say the golden a g e . J u s t l i k e the F a l l itself, the punishment for the F a l l ceased to be of a n y significance for L o c k e ' s p o l i t i c a l doctrine. He holds t h a t even God's curse on Eve does not impose a d u t y on the female sex " n o t to endeavor to a v o i d " t h a t curse: women m a y a v o i d the pangs of c h i l d b i r t h " i f there could be found a remedy for i t . " 7 0

7 1

7 2

The tension between L o c k e ' s n a t u r a l l a w teaching and the N e w Testament is perhaps best i l l u s t r a t e d by h i s t e a c h i n g about m a r r i a g e and related t o p i c s . In the First Treatise he characterizes a d u l t e r y , incest, and sodomy as sins. He i n d i cates there t h a t t h e y are sins independently of the fact t h a t 73

70. Ihid., I, sees. 27 and 39; II, sec. 25; cf. also II, sees. 6 and 87; and II, sees. 36 and 38. In II, sees. 56-57, Locke seemingly says that Adam was in the state of nature prior to the Fall. According to ibid., sec. 36 (cf. 107, 108,116), the state of nature is situated in "the first ages of the world" or in "the beginning of things" (cf. Hobbes, De cive, V, 2 ) ; cf. also Treatises, II, sec. 11, end, with Gen. 4:14-15 and 9:5-6. 71. Cf. Reasonableness, p. 112, and Treatises, I, sees. 16 and 44-45 with ibid., II, sees. 110-11 and 128. Note the plural "all those [ a g e s ] " ibid., sec. 110; there have been many examples of the state of nature, whereas there was only once a state of innocence. 72. Treatises, I, sec. 47. 73. As regards the relation between Locke's teaching concerning property and the New Testament teaching, it suffices here to mention his interpretation of Luke 18:22: "This I look on to be the meaning of the place; this, of selling all he had, and giving it to the poor, not being a standing law of [Jesus'] kingdom; but a probationary command to this young man; to try whether he truly believed him to be the Messiah, and was ready to obey his commands, and relinquish all to follow him, when he, his prince, required i t " (Reasonableness, p. 120).


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" t h e y cross the m a i n intention of n a t u r e . " One is therefore forced to w o n d e r w h e t h e r their being sins is not chiefly due to " p o s i t i v e r e v e l a t i o n . " L a t e r o n h e raises the question " w h a t in nature is the difference b e t w i x t a wife and a concubine?" He does not a n s w e r t h a t question, but the context suggests t h a t n a t u r a l l a w i s silent about t h a t difference. Furthermore, he i n d i c a t e s t h a t the distinction between those w h o m men m a y and m a y not m a r r y is based e x c l u s i v e l y on the revealed l a w . In h i s t h e m a t i c discussion of conjugal society in the Second T r e a t i s e , he m a k e s it q u i t e clear t h a t , according to natur a l l a w , conjugal society is not n e c e s s a r i l y for life; the end of conjugal society (procreation and e d u c a t i o n ) merely requires t h a t " t h e m a l e and female in m a n k i n d are tied to a longer conjunction t h a n other c r e a t u r e s . " He does not leave it at s a y i n g t h a t " t h e conjugal b o n d s " must be more " l a s t i n g in man t h a n the other species of a n i m a l s " ; he also demands t h a t those bonds be " m o r e firm . . . in man t h a n the other species of a n i m a l s " ; h e f a i l s t o t e l l us, h o w e v e r , h o w f i r m t h e y should be. 74

74. The thematic discussion of conjugal society occurs in chap, vii of the Second Treatise, in a chapter entitled, not "Of Conjugal Society," but "Of Political or Civil Society." That chapter happens to be the only chapter of the entire Treatises which opens with the word "God." It happens to be followed by the only chapter of the entire Treatises which opens with the word "Men." Chapter vii begins with a clear reference to the divine institution of marriage as recorded in Genesis 2:18; all the more striking is the contrast between the biblical doctrine (especially in its Christian interpretation) and Locke's own doctrine. It so happens that there is also only one chapter in the Essay which opens with the word "God" and which is followed by the only chapter of the Essay whose first word is " M a n " (III, 1 and 2 ) . In the only chapter of the Essay which opens with the word "God," Locke tries to show that words are "ultimately derived from such as signify sensible ideas," and he remarks that, by the observations to which he refers, "we may give some kind of guess what kind of notions they were, and whence they derived, which filled their minds who were the first beginners of languages." (The italics are not in the original.) Locke thus cautiously contradicts the biblical doctrine which he adopts in the Treatises (II, sec. 56) and according to which the first beginner of language, Adam, " w a s created a perfect man, his body and mind in full possession of their strength and reason, and so was capable from the first instant of his being to . . . govern his actions according to the dictates of the law of reason which God had implanted in him."

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C e r t a i n l y , p o l y g a m y i s perfectly compatible w i t h n a t u r a l l a w . It should also be noted t h a t w h a t L o c k e s a y s about the difference between conjugal society a m o n g h u m a n beings and conj u g a l society among b r u t e s — v i z . , t h a t the former i s , or o u g h t to be, "more firm and l a s t i n g " t h a n the latter—does not require a n y prohibition a g a i n s t incest and t h a t he therefore remains silent about such p r o h i b i t i o n s . In accordance w i t h a l l t h i s , he declares l a t e r on, in full agreement w i t h Hobbes and in full disagreement w i t h Hooker, t h a t c i v i l society is the sole judge of w h i c h " t r a n s g r e s s i o n s " are, and w h i c h are not, deserving of p u n i s h m e n t . 76

L o c k e ' s doctrine concerning conjugal society n a t u r a l l y affects h i s t e a c h i n g r e g a r d i n g the r i g h t s and duties of parents and children. He does not tire of q u o t i n g "Honour y o u r pare n t s . " But he g i v e s the b i b l i c a l commands an u n b i b l i c a l meaning by disregarding e n t i r e l y the b i b l i c a l distinctions between l a w f u l and unlawful unions of men a n d w o m e n . Furthermore, as regards the obedience w h i c h children o w e to their parents, he teaches t h a t t h a t d u t y '' terminates w i t h the m i n o r i t y of the c h i l d . " If parents retain "a strong t i e " on the obedience of their children after the l a t t e r h a v e come of a g e , t h i s is due merely to the fact t h a t " i t is c o m m o n l y in the father's p o w e r to bestow [ h i s e s t a t e ] w i t h a more sparing or liberal h a n d , a c cording as the behaviour of t h i s or t h a t c h i l d h a t h comported w i t h h i s w i l l and h u m o u r . " " T h i s i s , " t o quote L o c k e ' s understatement, "no small tie on t h e obedience of c h i l d r e n . " But i t i s c e r t a i n l y , a s h e states e x p l i c i t l y , " n o n a t u r a l t i e " : children w h o are of a g e are under no n a t u r a l l a w o b l i g a t i o n to obey t h e i r parents. Locke insists a l l the more strongly on the c h i l d r e n ' s "perpetual o b l i g a t i o n of honouring their p a r e n t s . " 75. Treatises, I, sees. 59,123,128; II, sees. 65 and 79-81. Cf. Treatises, II, sees. 88 and 136 (and note) with Hooker, Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, 1,10, sec. 10, and III, 9, sec. 2, on the one hand, and Hobbes, De cive, XIV, 9, on the other. Cf. Gough, op. cit., p. 189. As for the higher right of the mother, as compared with the father, see especially Treatises, I, sec. 55, where Locke tacitly follows Hobbes (De cive, IX, 3 ) . Cf. n. 84 below.


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" N o t h i n g can c a n c e l " t h i s d u t y . I t " i s a l w a y s due from c h i l dren to t h e i r p a r e n t s . " Locke finds the n a t u r a l l a w basis of t h a t perpetual d u t y in the fact t h a t the parents have begotten their children. He a d m i t s , h o w e v e r , t h a t if the parents h a v e been " u n n a t u r a l l y c a r e l e s s " of t h e i r children, t h e y " m i g h t " " p e r h a p s " forfeit their r i g h t " t o much of t h a t duty comprehended in t h e command, 'Honour y o u r parents.' " He goes beyond t h i s . In the Second Treatise, he indicates t h a t " t h e bare act of b e g e t t i n g " does not g i v e the parents a n y c l a i m to being honored by t h e i r children: " t h e honour due from a c h i l d places in the parents a perpetual r i g h t to respect, reverence, support, and compliance, too, more or l e s s , as the father's care, cost, and kindness in h i s education h a v e been more or l e s s . " It foll o w s from t h i s t h a t if the father's care, cost, and kindness h a v e been zero, h i s r i g h t to honor w i l l become zero too.The categoric i m p e r a t i v e "Honour t h y father and t h y m o t h e r " becomes the h y p o t h e t i c a l i m p e r a t i v e "Honour t h y father and t h y mother if t h e y h a v e deserved it of y o u . " 7 6

It can safely be s a i d , we t h i n k , t h a t L o c k e ' s " p a r t i a l l a w of n a t u r e " is not identical w i t h clear and p l a i n t e a c h i n g s of the N e w Testament or of Scripture in general. If " a l l the p a r t s " of the l a w of nature are made out in the N e w Testament in a clear and p l a i n manner, i t follows t h a t the " p a r t i a l l a w o f n a t u r e " does not belong at a l l to the l a w of nature. T h i s conclusion is supported a l s o by the f o l l o w i n g consideration: In order to be a l a w in the proper sense of the term, the l a w of nature must be k n o w n to h a v e been given by God. But the " p a r t i a l l a w of n a t u r e " does not require belief in God. The " p a r t i a l l a w of nat u r e " circumscribes the conditions w h i c h a n a t i o n must fulfil in order to be c i v i l or c i v i l i z e d . N o w the Chinese are "a v e r y 76. Treatises, I, sees. 63, 90,100; II, sees. 52, 65-67, 69, 71-73. Locke seems to imply that, other things being equal, the children of the rich are under a stricter obligation to honor their parents than the children of the poor. This would be in perfect agreement with the fact that wealthy parents have a stronger tic on their children's obedience than poor parents.

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great and c i v i l p e o p l e " and t h e S i a m i t e s are a " c i v i l i z e d nat i o n , " and both the Chinese and t h e S i a m i t e s " w a n t the idea and k n o w l e d g e o f G o d . " The " p a r t i a l l a w o f n a t u r e " i s , then, not a l a w in the proper sense of the t e r m . We t h u s arrive at the conclusion t h a t Locke cannot h a v e recognized a n y l a w of nature in t h e proper sense of the term. T h i s conclusion stands in s h o c k i n g contrast to w h a t is gene r a l l y t h o u g h t to be h i s doctrine, a n d e s p e c i a l l y the doctrine of the Second Treatise. Before turning to an examination of the Second Treatise, we beg the reader to consider the following facts: The accepted interpretation of L o c k e ' s t e a c h i n g leads to the consequence t h a t " L o c k e is full of i l l o g i c a l flaws and inc o n s i s t e n c i e s , " of inconsistencies, we add, w h i c h are so obvious t h a t t h e y cannot h a v e escaped the notice of a man of h i s r a n k and h i s sobriety. Furthermore, the accepted interpretation is based on w h a t amounts to a complete disregard of L o c k e ' s caution, of a k i n d of c a u t i o n w h i c h i s , to s a y the l e a s t , compatible w i t h so involving one's sense that one cannot e a s i l y be understood and w i t h going w i t h the herd in one's o u t w a r d professions. Above a l l , the accepted interpretation does not p a y sufficient attention to the character of the Treatise; it someh o w assumes t h a t the Treatise contains the philosophic present a t i o n of L o c k e ' s p o l i t i c a l doctrine, w h e r e a s it contains, in fact, o n l y i t s " c i v i l " presentation. In the Treatise, it is less Locke the philosopher t h a n Locke t h e E n g l i s h m a n w h o ad7 7

78

79

77. Treatises, I, sec. 141; Essay, I, 4, sec. 8; Second Reply to the Bishop of Worcester, p. 486. Reasonableness, p. 144: "Those just measures of right and wrong . . . stood on their true foundations. They were looked on as bonds of society, and conveniences of common life, and laudable practices. But where was it that their obligation was thoroughly known and allowed [prior to Jesus], and they received as precepts of a law; of the highest law, the law of nature? That could not be, without a clear knowledge and acknowledgment of the law-maker" (compare p. 213 above and n. 49 above). 78. Accordingly, Locke sometimes identifies the law of nature not with the law of reason but with reason simply (cf. Treatises, I, sec. 101, with II, sees. 6 , 1 1 , 1 8 1 ; cf. also ibid., I, sec. I l l , toward the end). 79. Gough, op. cit., p. 123.


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80

dresses not philosophers, but E n g l i s h m e n . It is for t h i s reason t h a t t h e argument of t h a t w o r k is based p a r t l y on gene r a l l y accepted opinions, a n d even to a certain extent on script u r a l p r i n c i p l e s : " T h e g r e a t e s t p a r t cannot k n o w , and therefore t h e y must b e l i e v e , " so much so, t h a t even if p h i l o s o p h y h a d " g i v e n us ethics in a science l i k e m a t h e m a t i c s , in every p a r t demonstrable, . . . the instruction of the people w e r e best s t i l l to be left to the precepts and principles of the g o s p e l . " Y e t , h o w e v e r much Locke m a y h a v e followed t r a d i t i o n i n the Treatise, a l r e a d y a s u m m a r y comparison of i t s t e a c h i n g w i t h the t e a c h i n g s of Hooker and of Hobbes w o u l d show t h a t Locke d e v i a t e d considerably from the t r a d i t i o n a l n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g and followed the l e a d given by H o b b e s . There i s , indeed, o n l y one passage in t h e Treatise in w h i c h Locke e x p l i c i t l y notes t h a t he deviates from Hooker. But the passage d r a w s our attention to a r a d i c a l d e v i a t i o n . After h a v i n g quoted Hooker, Locke s a y s : " B u t I, moreover, affirm t h a t a l l men are n a t u r a l l y in [the state of n a t u r e ] . " He t h u s suggests 8 1

82

80. Cf. Treatises, II, sec. 52 beginning, and I, sec. 109 beginning, with Essay, III, 9, sees. 3, 8,15, and chap, xi, sec. 11; Treatises, Preface, I, sees. 1 and 47; II, sees. 165, 177, 223, and 239. 81. Reasonableness, p. 146. Cf. the reference to the other life in Treatises, II, sees. 21 end, with sec. 13 end. Cf. the references to religion in Treatises, II, sees. 9 2 , 1 1 2 , 209-10. 82. In Treatises, II, sees. 5-6, Locke quotes Hooker, I, 8, sec. 7. The passage is used by Hooker for establishing the duty of loving one's neighbor as one's self; it is used by Locke for establishing the natural equality of all men. In the same context Locke replaces the duty of mutual love, of which Hooker had spoken, by the duty of refraining from harming others, i.e., he drops the duty of charity (cf. Hobbes, De cive, IV, 12, and 2 3 ) . According to Hooker (I, 10, sec. 4 ) , fathers have by nature "a supreme power in their families"; according to Locke (Treatises, II, sees. 52 ff.), any natural right of the father is, to say the least, fully shared by the mother (cf. n. 75 above). According to Hooker (I, 10, sec. 5 ) , natural law enjoins civil society; according to Locke (Treatises, II, sees. 95 and 13), "any number of men may" form a civil society (the italics are not in the original). Cf. Hobbes, De cive, VI, 2, and n. 67 above. Cf. the interpretation of self-preservation in Hooker, I, 5, sec. 2, with the entirely different interpretation in Treatises, I, sees. 86 and 88. Consider, above all, the radical disagreement between Hooker (I, 8, sees. 2-3) and Locke (Essay, I, 3) in regard to the consensus gentium evidence for the law of nature.

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t h a t , according to Hooker, some men w e r e in fact or accident a l l y in the state of nature. A c t u a l l y , Hooker h a d not s a i d a n y t h i n g about the state of n a t u r e : the w h o l e doctrine of the state of nature is based on a break w i t h Hooker's principles, i . e . , w i t h the principles of the t r a d i t i o n a l nature l a w doctrine. L o c k e ' s notion of the state of nature is inseparable from the doctrine " t h a t in the state of nature everyone h a s the execut i v e p o w e r of the l a w of n a t u r e . " He s t a t e s t w i c e in the context referred t o t h a t t h i s doctrine i s " s t r a n g e , " i . e . , n o v e l . For w h a t is the reason w h y , according to Locke, the a d m i s sion of a l a w of nature requires the admission of a state of nature, and more p a r t i c u l a r l y the admission t h a t in the state of nature " e v e r y man h a t h the r i g h t t o . . . b e executioner o f the l a w o f n a t u r e " ? " . . . Since i t w o u l d b e u t t e r l y i n v a i n t o suppose a rule set to the free actions of m a n , w i t h o u t annexing to it some enforcement of good or e v i l to determine h i s w i l l , we must w h e r e v e r we suppose a l a w , suppose also some r e w a r d or punishment annexed to t h a t l a w . " In order to be a l a w , t h e l a w of nature must have sanctions. According to the t r a d i tional v i e w those sanctions are supplied by the judgment of the conscience, w h i c h is the judgment of God. Locke rejects t h i s v i e w . According to h i m , the judgment of the conscience is so far from being t h e judgment of God t h a t the conscience " i s nothing else but our o w n opinion or judgment of the m o r a l rectitude or p r a v i t y of our o w n a c t i o n s . " Or to quote Hobbes, w h o m Locke t a c i t l y f o l l o w s : " p r i v a t e consciences . . . are but private o p i n i o n s . " Conscience cannot therefore be a g u i d e ; s t i l l l e s s can it supply sanctions. Or if t h e verdict of t h e con83

83. Treatises, II, sees. 9, 13, and 15; cf. sec. 91 n., where Locke, quoting Hooker, refers in an explanatory remark to the state of nature which is not mentioned by Hooker; cf. also sec. 14 with Hobbes, Leviathan, chap, xiii (83). As regards the "strange" character of the doctrine that in the state of nature everyone has the executive power of the law of nature, cf. Thomas Aquinas Summa theologica ii. 2. qu. 64, a. 3, and Suarez, Tr. ie legibus, III, 3, sees. 1 and 3, on the one hand, and Grotius De jure belli ii. 20. sees. 3 and 7 and ii. 25. sec. 1, as well as Richard Cumberland, De legibus naturae, chap. 1, sec. 26, on the other.


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science is identified w i t h r i g h t opinion about the m o r a l q u a l i t y of our a c t i o n s , it is u t t e r l y powerless by itself: " V i e w but an a r m y at the s a c k i n g of a t o w n , and see w h a t observation or sense of m o r a l principles, or w h a t touch of conscience, for a l l the o u t r a g e s t h e y d o . " If there are to be sanctions for t h e l a w of nature in t h i s w o r l d , those sanctions must be supplied by human beings. But a n y "enforcement" of the l a w of nature w h i c h t a k e s place in and t h r o u g h c i v i l society appears to be the outcome of human convention. Therefore, the l a w of nature w i l l not be effective in t h i s w o r l d and hence not be a true l a w , if it is not effective in the state antedating c i v i l society or government—in the state of n a t u r e ; even in the state of nature everyone must be effectively responsible to other h u m a n beings. T h i s , however, requires t h a t everyone in the state of nature h a v e the r i g h t to be t h e executioner of the l a w of nat u r e : " t h e l a w o f nature w o u l d , a s a l l other l a w s t h a t concern men in t h i s w o r l d , be in v a i n , if there w e r e nobody t h a t in the state of nature h a d a p o w e r to execute t h a t l a w . " The l a w of nature is indeed g i v e n by God, but i t s being a l a w does not require t h a t it be k n o w n to be given by God, because it is i m m e d i a t e l y enforced, not by God or by the conscience, but by human b e i n g s . 84

84. Reasonableness, p. 114: ". . . i f there were no punishment for the transgressors of [Jesus' l a w s ] , his laws would not be the laws of a king, . . . but empty talk, without force, and without influence." Treatises, II, sees. 7, 8, 13 end, 21 end; cf. ibid., sec. 11, with I, sec. 56. Essay, I, 3, sees. 6-9, and II, 28, sec. 6; Hobbes, Leviathan, chap, xxix (212). When speaking of everyone's natural right to be the executioner of the law of nature, Locke refers to "that great law of nature, 'Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed' " (Gen. 9 : 6 ) . But he omits the biblical reason, "for in the image of God made he man." The Lockean reason for the right to inflict capital punishment on murderers is that man may "destroy things noxious" to men (the italics are not in the original). Locke disregards the fact that both the murdered and the murderer are made in the image of God: the murderer "may be destroyed as a lion or a tiger, one of those wild savage beasts with whom men can have no society nor security" (Treatises, II, sees. 8, 10, 11, 16, 172, 181; cf. I, sec. 30). Cf. Thomas Aquinas Summa theologica i. qu. 79, a. 13 and i i . 1. qu. 96, a. 5 ad 3 (cf. a. 4, obj. 1 ) ; Hooker, I, 9, sec.2—10, sec. 1; Grotius De jure belli, Prolegomena, sees. 20 and 27; Cumberland, loc. cit.

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The l a w of nature cannot be t r u l y a l a w if it is not effective in the state of nature. It cannot be effective in the state of n a ture if the state of nature is not a state of peace. The l a w of nature imposes on everyone the perfect d u t y of preserving the rest of m a n k i n d " a s much as he c a n , " but o n l y " w h e n h i s o w n preservation comes not in c o m p e t i t i o n . " If the state of nature were characterized by h a b i t u a l conflict between self-preservation and the preservation of others, the l a w of nature w h i c h " w i l l e t h the peace and preservation of a l l m a n k i n d " w o u l d be ineffectual: the h i g h e r c l a i m of self-preservation w o u l d leave no room for concern w i t h others. The state of nature must therefore be "a state of peace, g o o d - w i l l , m u t u a l assistance, and p r e s e r v a t i o n . " This means t h a t the state of nature must be a social s t a t e ; in the state of nature a l l men " m a k e up one soc i e t y " by virtue of the l a w of nature, a l t h o u g h t h e y have no "common superior on e a r t h . " Inasmuch as self-preservation requires food and other necessities, and scarcity of such t h i n g s leads to conflict, the state of nature must be a state of p l e n t y : " G o d h a s given us a l l t h i n g s r i c h l y . " The l a w of nature cannot be a l a w if it is not k n o w n ; it must be k n o w n and therefore it must be k n o w a b l e in the state of n a t u r e . 85

After h a v i n g d r a w n or suggested t h i s picture of the state of nature e s p e c i a l l y in the first p a g e s of the Treatise, Locke demolishes it as his argument proceeds. The state of nature, w h i c h at first glance seems to be t h e golden a g e ruled by God or good demons, is l i t e r a l l y a state w i t h o u t g o v e r n m e n t , " p u r e a n a r c h y . ' ' It could last forever, " w e r e it not for the corruption and viciousness of degenerate m e n " ; but unfortunately " t h e greater p a r t " are " n o strict observers of e q u i t y and j u s t i c e . " For t h i s reason, to s a y n o t h i n g of others, the state of nature h a s great " i n c o n v e n i e n c e s . " M a n y " m u t u a l grievances, injuries and w r o n g s . . . attend men in the state of n a t u r e " ; "strife and troubles w o u l d be e n d l e s s " in i t . It " i s full of fears 85. Treatises, I, sec. 43; II, sees. 6, 7, 11, 19, 28, 31, 51, 56-57, 110, 128, 171, 172.


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and c o n t i n u a l d a n g e r s . " It is " a n i l l c o n d i t i o n . " Far from being a state of peace, it is a state in w h i c h peace and quiet are uncertain. T h e state of peace is c i v i l s o c i e t y ; the state antedating c i v i l society is the state of w a r . T h i s is either the cause or the effect of the fact t h a t the state of nature is a state not of p l e n t y but of penury. Those l i v i n g in it are " n e e d y and w r e t c h e d . " Plenty requires c i v i l s o c i e t y . Being "pure ana r c h y , " the state of nature is not l i k e l y to be a social state. In fact, it is characterized by " w a n t of s o c i e t y . " " S o c i e t y " and " c i v i l s o c i e t y " are synonymous terms. The state of nature is " l o o s e . " For " t h e first and strongest desire God planted in m a n " is not the concern w i t h others, not even concern w i t h one's offspring, but the desire for self-preservation. 8 6

87

88

The state of nature w o u l d be a state of peace and good w i l l if men in the state of nature w e r e under the l a w of nature. But " n o b o d y can be under a l a w w h i c h is not promulgated to h i m . " M a n w o u l d k n o w the l a w of nature in the state of nature if " t h e dictates of the l a w of n a t u r e " w e r e " i m p l a n t e d in h i m " or " w r i t in the hearts of m a n k i n d . " But no moral rules are " i m p r i n t e d in our m i n d s " or " w r i t t e n on [our] h e a r t s " or " s t a m p e d upon [our] m i n d s " or " i m p l a n t e d . " Since there is no habitus of moral principles, no synderesis or conscience, a l l k n o w l e d g e of the l a w of nature is acquired by s t u d y : to k n o w the l a w of nature, one must be "a studier of t h a t l a w . " The! l a w of nature becomes k n o w n o n l y t h r o u g h demonstration.: The question, therefore, is w h e t h e r men in the state of nature are capable of becoming studiers of the l a w of nature. " T h e greatest part of m a n k i n d w a n t leisure or c a p a c i t y for demonstration. . . . A n d y o u m a y as soon hope to h a v e a l l the d a y 86. Ibid., II, sees. 13, 74, 90, 91 and note, 94, 105, 123, 127, 128, 131, 135 n., 136, 212, 225-27. 87. Ibid., sees. 32, 37, 38, 41-43, 49. 88. Ibid., sees. 21, 74,101, 105, 116, 127, 131 beginning, 132 beginning, 134 beginning (cf. 124 beginning), 211, 220, 243; cf. I, sec. 56, with sec. 88. Cf. both passages, as well as I, sec. 97, and II, sees. 60, 63, 67, 170, with Essay, I, 3, sees. 3, 9, 19.

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labourers and tradesmen, and spinsters and d a i r y - m a i d s , perfect m a t h e m a t i c i a n s , as to h a v e t h e m perfect in ethics t h i s w a y . ' ' Yet a d a y laborer in E n g l a n d is better off t h a n a k i n g of the Americans, and " i n the beginning a l l the w o r l d w a s A m e r i c a , and more so t h a n it is n o w . " " T h e first a g e s " are characterized by " n e g l i g e n t and unforeseeing innocence" rather t h a n by h a b i t s of s t u d y . The condition in w h i c h m a n l i v e s in the state of n a t u r e — " c o n t i n u a l d a n g e r s " and "penu r y " — m a k e impossible k n o w l e d g e of the l a w of n a t u r e : the l a w of nature is not promulgated in the state of nature. Since the l a w of nature must be p r o m u l g a t e d in the state of nature if it is to be a l a w in the proper sense of the term, we are a g a i n forced to conclude t h a t the l a w of nature is not a l a w in the proper sense of the t e r m . 89

90

W h a t , then, is the status of the l a w of nature in L o c k e ' s doctrine? W h a t is i t s foundation? There is no rule of the l a w of nature w h i c h is innate, " t h a t i s , . . . imprinted on the m i n d as a d u t y . ' ' T h i s is shown by the fact t h a t there are no rules of the l a w of nature, " w h i c h , as p r a c t i c a l principles o u g h t , do continue constantly to operate and influence a l l our actions w i t h out ceasing [and w h i c h ] m a y be observed in a l l persons and a l l a g e s , steady and u n i v e r s a l . " However, " N a t u r e . . . h a s put into man a desire of happiness, and an aversion to m i s e r y ; these, indeed, are innate practical p r i n c i p l e s " : t h e y are univers a l l y and unceasingly effective. The desire for happiness and the pursuit of happiness to w h i c h it g i v e s rise are not duties. But " m e n . . . must be a l l o w e d to pursue their h a p p i n e s s , n a y , cannot be h i n d e r e d . " The desire for happiness and the pursuit of happiness have the character of an absolute r i g h t , of a n a t u r a l r i g h t . There i s , then, an i n n a t e n a t u r a l r i g h t , w h i l e 89. Cf., above all, Treatises, II, sees. 11 end, and 56, with Essay, I, 3, sec. 8, and I, 4, sec. 12; Treatises, II, sees. 6,12, 41, 49, 57, 94, 107, 124, 136; Essay, I, 3, sees. 1, 6, 9, 11-13, 26, 27; Reasonableness, pp. 146, 139, 140. Cf. n. 74 above. 90. Cf. the use of the term "crime" (as distinguished from "sin ') in Treatises, II, sees. 10, 11, 87, 128, 218, 230, with Essay, II, 28, sees. 7-9.


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there is no innate n a t u r a l d u t y . To understand h o w t h i s is possible, one m e r e l y h a s to reformulate our l a s t q u o t a t i o n : pursuit of happiness is a r i g h t , it " m u s t be a l l o w e d , " because " i t cannot be h i n d e r e d . " It is a r i g h t antedating a l l duties for the same reason t h a t , according to Hobbes, establishes as the fundamental moral fact the r i g h t of self-preservation: man must be a l l o w e d to defend h i s life a g a i n s t violent d e a t h because he is driven to do so by some n a t u r a l necessity w h i c h is not less t h a n t h a t by w h i c h a stone is carried d o w n w a r d . Being u n i v e r s a l l y effective, n a t u r a l r i g h t , as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from n a t u r a l d u t y , is effective in the state of n a t u r e : man in the state of nature is " a b s o l u t e lord of h i s o w n person and poss e s s i o n s . " Since the r i g h t of nature is innate, w h e r e a s the l a w of nature is not, the r i g h t of nature is more fundamental t h a n the l a w of nature and is the foundation of t h e l a w of nature. 91

Since happiness presupposes life, the desire for life t a k e s precedence over the desire for happiness in case of conflict. T h i s d i c t a t e of reason is at the same t i m e a n a t u r a l n e c e s s i t y : " t h e first a n d strongest desire God planted in men, a n d w r o u g h t into the v e r y principles of t h e i r nature, is t h a t of self-preservation.'' The most fundamental of a l l r i g h t s is therefore the r i g h t of self-preservation. W h i l e nature h a s put into man "a strong desire of preserving h i s life and b e i n g , " it is o n l y m a n ' s reason w h i c h teaches h i m w h a t i s " n e c e s s a r y and useful to h i s b e i n g . " And reason—or, rather, reason applied to a subject to be specified presently-—is the l a w of nature. Reason teaches t h a t " h e t h a t is master of himself and h i s o w n life h a s a r i g h t , t o o , to the means of preserving i t . " Reason further teaches t h a t , since a l l men are equal in regard to the desire, and hence to the r i g h t , of self-preservation, t h e y are equal in the decisive respect, n o t w i t h s t a n d i n g a n y n a t u r a l i n e q u a l i t i e s 91. Essay, I, 3, sees. 3 and 12; Reasonableness, p. 148; Treatises, II, sec. 123 (cf. sec. 6 ) . Cf. Hobbes, De cive, I, 7, and III, 27 n.

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NATURAL RIGHT AND HISTORY 92

in other r e s p e c t s . From t h i s Locke concludes, just as Hobbes did, t h a t in the state of nature everyone is the judge of w h a t means are conducive to h i s self-preservation, and t h i s leads h i m , as it did Hobbes, to the further conclusion t h a t in the state of nature " a n y man m a y do w h a t he t h i n k s f i t . " No wonder, therefore, t h a t the state of nature is " f u l l of fears and continual d a n g e r s . " But reason teaches t h a t life cannot be preserved, let alone enjoyed, except in a state of peace: reason w i l l s peace. Reason therefore w i l l s such courses of action as are conducive to peace. Reason dictates, accordingly, t h a t " n o one o u g h t t o h a r m a n o t h e r , " that h e w h o h a r m s a n o t h e r — w h o therefore h a s renounced r e a s o n — m a y be punished by everyone and t h a t he w h o is harmed m a y t a k e reparations. These are the fundamental rules of the l a w of nature on w h i c h the argument of the Treatise is based: the l a w of nature is n o t h i n g other than the sum of the dictates of reason in regard to men's " m u t u a l sec u r i t y " or to " t h e peace and s a f e t y " of m a n k i n d . Since in the state of nature a l l men are judges in their o w n cases and since, therefore, the state of nature is characterized by constant conflict t h a t arises from the very l a w of nature, the state of nature is " n o t to be e n d u r e d " : the o n l y r e m e d y is government or c i v i l society. Reason accordingly d i c t a t e s h o w c i v i l society must be constructed and w h a t i t s r i g h t s or bounds a r e : there is a r a t i o n a l public l a w or a n a t u r a l constitutional l a w . The principle of t h a t public l a w is t h a t a l l social or governmental power is d e r i v a t i v e from powers w h i c h by nature belong to the i n d i v i d u a l s . The contract of the i n d i v i d u a l s a c t u a l l y con93

92. Treatises, I, sees. 86-88,90 beginning, 111 toward the end; II, sees. 6, 54,149,168, 172. One may describe the relation of the right of self-preservation to the right to the pursuit of happiness as follows: the former is the right to "subsist" and implies the right to what is necessary to man's being; the second is the right to "enjoy the conveniences of life" or to "comfortable preservation" and implies, therefore, also the right to what is useful to man's being without being necessary for it (cf. Treatises, I, sees. 86, 87, 97; II, sees. 26, 34, 41). 93. Ibid., II, sees. 10, 13, 87, 94, 105, 129, 168, 171.


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cerned w i t h their self-preservation—not the contract of the fathers q u a fathers or divine appointment or an end of man t h a t is independent of the a c t u a l w i l l s of a l l i n d i v i d u a l s — c r e ates the w h o l e p o w e r of s o c i e t y : " t h e supreme p o w e r in every c o m m o n w e a l t h [ i s ] but the joint p o w e r of every member of the s o c i e t y . " 9 4

L o c k e ' s n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g can then be understood perfectly if one assumes t h a t the l a w s of nature w h i c h he a d m i t s are, as Hobbes put i t , " b u t conclusions, or theorems concerning w h a t conduces to the conservation and defense" of man over a g a i n s t other men. And it must be t h u s understood, since the a l t e r n a t i v e v i e w is exposed to the difficulties w h i c h h a v e been set forth. The l a w of nature, as Locke conceives of i t , formulates t h e conditions of peace or, more g e n e r a l l y stated, of " p u b l i c h a p p i n e s s " or " t h e prosperity of a n y p e o p l e . " There is therefore a k i n d of sanction for the l a w of nature in t h i s w o r l d : the disregard of the l a w of nature leads to public misery and penury. But t h i s sanction is insufficient. U n i v e r s a l compliance w i t h the l a w o f nature w o u l d indeed g u a r a n t e e perpetual peace and prosperity e v e r y w h e r e on e a r t h . F a i l i n g such universal compliance, h o w e v e r , i t m a y w e l l happen t h a t a society w h i c h complies w i t h the l a w of nature enjoys less of temporal happiness t h a n a society w h i c h transgresses the l a w of nature. For in both foreign and domestic affairs v i c t o r y does not a l w a y s favor " t h e r i g h t s i d e " : the " g r e a t robbers . . . are too big for the w e a k hands of justice in this w o r l d . " There remains, h o w e v e r , at least t h i s difference between those w h o s t r i c t l y c o m p l y w i t h the l a w of nature and those w h o do not, t h a t o n l y t h e former can act and speak consistently; o n l y t h e former can consistently m a i n t a i n t h a t there is a fundamental difference between c i v i l societies and g a n g s of robbers, a d i s tinction to w h i c h every society and every government is forced to appeal time and a g a i n . In a w o r d , the l a w of nature 94. Hid., sees. 4, 6-11, 1 3 , 96, 99, 127-30, 1 3 4 , 1 3 5 , 142, 159.

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is "a creature of the understanding r a t h e r t h a n a w o r k of nat u r e " ; i t i s " b a r e l y i n the m i n d , " a " n o t i o n , " and not " i n the t h i n g s t h e m s e l v e s . ' ' T h i s i s the u l t i m a t e reason w h y ethics can be raised to the r a n k of a demonstrative science. 95

One cannot clarify the status of the l a w of nature w i t h o u t considering the status of the state of n a t u r e . Locke is more definite t h a n Hobbes in asserting t h a t men a c t u a l l y l i v e d in the state of nature or t h a t the state of nature is not m e r e l y a h y p o t h e t i c a l a s s u m p t i o n . By t h i s he means, in the first p l a c e , t h a t men a c t u a l l y l i v e d , and m a y l i v e , w i t h o u t being subject to a common superior on e a r t h . He means, furthermore, t h a t men l i v i n g in t h a t condition, w h o are studiers of the l a w of nature, w o u l d k n o w h o w t o set about r e m e d y i n g the inconveniences of t h e i r condition and to l a y the foundations for public happiness. But o n l y such men could k n o w the l a w of nature w h i l e l i v i n g in a state of nature w h o h a v e a l r e a d y lived in c i v i l society, or r a t h e r in a civil society in w h i c h reason h a s been properly c u l t i v a t e d . An e x a m p l e of men w h o are in the state of nature under the l a w of nature w o u l d therefore be an elite among the English colonists in America rather t h a n the w i l d Indians. A better example w o u l d be that of a n y h i g h l y c i v i l i z e d men after the b r e a k d o w n of t h e i r society. It is o n l y one step from t h i s to the v i e w t h a t the most obvious e x a m p l e 96

95. Ibid., sees. 1, 12, 176-77, 202; Essay, III, 5, sec. 12, and IV, 12, sees. 7-9 (cf. Spinoza, Ethics, IV, praef. and 18 schol.). As for the element of legal fiction involved in "the law of nature and reason," cf. Treatises, II, sec. 98 beginning, with sec. 96. Cf. Reasonableness, p. 11: "the law of reason, or, as it is called, the law of nature." Cf. also Section A, n. 8 above, and nn. 113 and 119 below. Hobbes, De cive, Ep. ded., and Leviathan, chap, xv (96 and 104-5). 96. Cf. Leviathan, chap, xiii (83)—see also the Latin version—with Treatises, II, sees. 14,100-103,110. The reason for Locke's deviation from Hobbes is that, according to Hobbes, the state of nature is worse than any kind of government, whereas, according to Locke, the state of nature is preferable to arbitrary and lawless government. Hence Locke teaches that the state of nature is more viable from the point of view of sensible men than "absolute monarchy": the state of nature must be, or have been, actual.


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of men in t h e state of nature under the l a w of nature is t h a t of men l i v i n g in c i v i l society, in so far as t h e y reflect on w h a t t h e y could j u s t l y demand from c i v i l society or on the conditions under w h i c h c i v i l obedience w o u l d be reasonable. T h u s it becomes u l t i m a t e l y irrelevant w h e t h e r the state of nature understood as a state in w h i c h men are subject o n l y to the l a w of nature, a n d not to a n y common superior on e a r t h , w a s ever a c t u a l or n o t . 97

It is on t h e basis of Hobbes's v i e w of the l a w of nature t h a t Locke opposes Hobbes's conclusions. He tries to s h o w t h a t Hobbes's principle—the r i g h t of self-preservation—far from favoring absolute government, requires l i m i t e d government. Freedom, "freedom from a r b i t r a r y , absolute p o w e r , " is " t h e fence" to self-preservation. S l a v e r y is therefore a g a i n s t n a t u r a l l a w except as a substitute for c a p i t a l punishment. N o t h i n g w h i c h is incompatible w i t h the basic r i g h t of self-preservation, and hence n o t h i n g to w h i c h a r a t i o n a l creature cannot be supposed to h a v e given free consent, can be just; hence c i v i l society or government cannot be established l a w f u l l y by force or conquest: consent alone " d i d or could g i v e beginning to a n y l a w f u l government in the w o r l d . " For the same reason L o c k e condemns absolute monarchy or, more precisely, " a b s o l u t e a r b i t r a r y p o w e r . . . o f a n y one o r m o r e " a s w e l l a s " g o v e r n ing w i t h o u t settled standing l a w s . " I n spite o f the l i m i t a tions w h i c h Locke demands, the c o m m o n w e a l t h remains for h i m , a s i t w a s for Hobbes, " t h e m i g h t y l e v i a t h a n " : i n entering c i v i l society, " m e n g i v e u p a l l t h e i r n a t u r a l p o w e r t o the society w h i c h t h e y enter i n t o . " J u s t as Hobbes did, so L o c k e a d m i t s o n l y one contract: the contract of union w h i c h every 9 8

97. Cf. Treatises, II, sees. I l l , 121,163; cf. Hobbes, De cive, praef.: "in jure civitatis, civiumque officiis investigandis opus est, non quidem ut dissolvatur civitas, sed tamen ut tamquam dissoluta consideretur." 98. Treatises, I, sees. 33 and 41; II, sees. 1 3 , 17, 23, 24, 85, 90-95, 99, 131, 132, 1 3 7 , 153, 175-76, 201-2; cf. Hobbes, De cive, V, 12, and VIII, 1-5.

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i n d i v i d u a l m a k e s w i t h every other i n d i v i d u a l of the same m u l titude is identical w i t h the contract of subjection. J u s t as Hobbes did, so Locke teaches t h a t , by v i r t u e of the fundament a l contract, every man " p u t s h i m s e l f under an o b l i g a t i o n to everyone of t h a t society to submit to the determination of t h e m a j o r i t y , and to be concluded by i t " ; t h a t , therefore, t h e fundamental contract establishes i m m e d i a t e l y an unqualified democracy; t h a t t h i s p r i m a r y democracy m a y b y m a j o r i t y vote either continue itself or transform itself into another form of government; and t h a t the social contract is therefore in fact identical w i t h a contract of subjection to the " s o v e r e i g n " ( H o b b e s ) o r t o the "supreme p o w e r " ( L o c k e ) r a t h e r t h a n t o s o c i e t y . " L o c k e opposes Hobbes b y t e a c h i n g t h a t w h e r e v e r " t h e p e o p l e " o r " t h e c o m m u n i t y , " i . e . , the m a j o r i t y , h a v e placed the supreme power, t h e y s t i l l r e t a i n " a supreme p o w e r to remove or a l t e r " the established government, i . e . , t h e y s t i l l retain a r i g h t of r e v o l u t i o n . But t h i s p o w e r ( w h i c h is norm a l l y d o r m a n t ) does not q u a l i f y t h e subjection of the i n d i v i d u a l to the c o m m u n i t y or society. On the contrary, it is o n l y fair to s a y t h a t Hobbes stresses more s t r o n g l y t h a n does Locke the i n d i v i d u a l ' s r i g h t to resist s o c i e t y or the government w h e n e v e r h i s self-preservation is e n d a n g e r e d . 100

101

99. Treatises, II, sees. 89, 95-99, 132, 134, 136; Hobbes, De cive, V, 7; VI, 2, 3, 17; VIII, 5, 8, 11; cf. also Leviathan, chaps, xviii (115) and xix (126). 100. Treatises, II, sees. 149,168, 205, 208, 209, 230. Locke teaches, on the one hand, that society can exist without government (ibid., sees. 121 end and 211) and, on the other hand, that society cannot exist without government (ibid., sees. 205 and 219). The contradiction disappears if one considers the fact that society exists, and acts, without government only in the moment of revolution. If society, or "the people," could not exist and hence not act while there is no government, i.e., no lawful government, there could be no action of "the people" against the de facto government. The revolutionary action thus understood is a kind of majority decision which establishes a new legislative or supreme power in the very moment in which it abolishes the old one. 101. In accordance with this, Locke asserts more emphatically than did Hobbes the individual's duty of military service (cf. Treatises, II, sees. 88, 130, 168, 205, and 208, with Leviathan, chaps, xxi [142-43], xiv [86-87], and xxviii [202]).


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L o c k e w o u l d nevertheless h a v e been justified in contending t h a t the m i g h t y l e v i a t h a n , as he h a d constructed i t , offered a greater g u a r a n t e e for the i n d i v i d u a l ' s self-preservation t h a n Hobbes's L e v i a t h a n . The i n d i v i d u a l ' s r i g h t of resistance to organized society, w h i c h Hobbes h a d stressed and w h i c h Locke d i d not deny, is an ineffectual g u a r a n t y for the i n d i v i d u a l ' s self-preservation. Since t h e o n l y a l t e r n a t i v e to pure a n a r c h y — t o a condition in w h i c h everyone's self-preservation is in continual danger—is t h a t " m e n g i v e up a l l t h e i r n a t u r a l p o w e r to the society w h i c h t h e y enter i n t o " ; the o n l y effective g u a r a n t y for the r i g h t s of the i n d i v i d u a l is t h a t society be so constructed as to be incapable of oppressing i t s members: o n l y a society or a government t h u s constructed is l e g i t i m a t e or in accordance w i t h n a t u r a l l a w ; o n l y such a society can j u s t l y demand t h a t t h e i n d i v i d u a l surrender t o i t a l l h i s n a t u r a l power. According to L o c k e , the best i n s t i t u t i o n a l safeguards for the r i g h t s of the i n d i v i d u a l s are supplied by a constitution t h a t , i n p r a c t i c a l l y a l l domestic m a t t e r s , s t r i c t l y subordinates the e x e c u t i v e p o w e r ( w h i c h must b e s t r o n g ) t o l a w , and u l t i m a t e l y to a well-defined l e g i s l a t i v e assembly. The l e g i s l a t i v e a s s e m b l y must be l i m i t e d to t h e m a k i n g of l a w s as d i s t i n guished from " e x t e m p o r a r y , a r b i t r a r y d e c r e e s " ; its members must be elected by t h e people for f a i r l y short periods of tenure and therefore be " t h e m s e l v e s subject to the l a w s t h e y h a v e m a d e " ; t h e electoral system must t a k e account of both n u m bers and w e a l t h . For, a l t h o u g h Locke seems to h a v e t h o u g h t t h a t the i n d i v i d u a l ' s self-preservation is less seriously threatened by the m a j o r i t y than by monarchic or o l i g a r c h i c rulers, he cannot be said to h a v e h a d an i m p l i c i t faith in the m a j o r i t y as a g u a r a n t o r of the r i g h t s of t h e i n d i v i d u a l . In the p a s 102

1 0 3

104

102. Treatises, II, sees. 168 and 208. 103. Ibid., sees. 94, 1 3 4 , 136, 142, 143, 149, 150, 153, 157-59. 104. Sec the examples of tyranny mentioned in Treatises, II, sec. 201: no example of tyranny by the majority is given. Cf. also Locke's remarks on the character of the people, ibid., sec. 223: the people are " s l o w " rather than "unsteady."

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sages in w h i c h he seems to describe t h e m a j o r i t y as such a guarantor, he is speaking of cases in w h i c h the i n d i v i d u a l s ' self-preservation is threatened by t y r a n n i c a l monarchic or o l i g a r c h i c rulers and w h e r e i n , therefore, the l a s t and o n l y hope for the suffering i n d i v i d u a l o b v i o u s l y rests on the dispositions of t h e m a j o r i t y . Locke regarded the p o w e r of the m a j o r i t y as a check on bad government and a l a s t resort a g a i n s t t y r a n n i c a l government; he did not regard it as a substitute for government or as i d e n t i c a l w i t h government. E q u a l i t y , he t h o u g h t , is incompatible w i t h c i v i l society. The e q u a l i t y of a l l men in regard to the r i g h t of self-preservation does not obliterate completely the special r i g h t of the more reasonable men. On the contrary, t h e exercise of t h a t special r i g h t is conducive to the self-preservation and happiness of a l l . Above a l l , since self-preservation and happiness require property, so much so t h a t the end of c i v i l society can be s a i d to be the preservation of property, t h e protection of the propertied members of society a g a i n s t t h e demands of the indigent —or the protection of the industrious and r a t i o n a l a g a i n s t t h e l a z y and quarrelsome—is essential to public happiness or the common g o o d . 106

L o c k e ' s doctrine of property, w h i c h is almost l i t e r a l l y the central part of h i s p o l i t i c a l t e a c h i n g , is c e r t a i n l y its most characteristic p a r t . It distinguishes h i s p o l i t i c a l t e a c h i n g most c l e a r l y not o n l y from t h a t of Hobbes but from the t r a d i t i o n a l t e a c h i n g s as w e l l . Being a part of h i s n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g , it p a r t a k e s of a l l t h e complexities of t h e l a t t e r . Its peculiar difficulty can be p r o v i s i o n a l l y stated as f o l l o w s : Property is an institution of n a t u r a l l a w ; n a t u r a l l a w defines the manner and 106

105. Ibid., sees. 34, 54, 82, 94, 102, 131, 157-58. 106. After I had finished this chapter, my attention was drawn to C. B. Macpherson's article, "Locke on Capitalist Appropriation," Western Political Quarterly, 1951, pp. 550-66. There is considerable agreement between Mr. Macpherson's interpretation of the chapter on property and the interpretation set forth in the text. Cf. American Political Science Review, 1950, pp. 767-70.


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the l i m i t a t i o n s of just appropriation. M e n o w n property prior to c i v i l s o c i e t y ; t h e y enter c i v i l society in order to preserve or protect the property w h i c h t h e y acquired in the state of nature. But, once c i v i l society is formed, if not before, the natural l a w r e g a r d i n g property ceases t o b e v a l i d ; w h a t w e m a y c a l l " c o n v e n t i o n a l " o r " c i v i l " property—the property w h i c h is owned w i t h i n c i v i l society—is based on positive l a w alone. Y e t , w h i l e c i v i l society is the creator of c i v i l property, it is not its master: c i v i l society must respect c i v i l property; c i v i l soc i e t y h a s , as it w e r e , no other function but to serve its o w n creation. Locke c l a i m s for c i v i l property a much greater sanct i t y t h a n for n a t u r a l property, i . e . , the property w h i c h is a c quired and o w n e d e x c l u s i v e l y on the basis of n a t u r a l l a w , of " t h e h i g h e s t l a w . " W h y , then, i s h e s o anxious t o prove t h a t property antedates c i v i l s o c i e t y ? 107

The n a t u r a l r i g h t to property is a corollary of the fundament a l r i g h t of self-preservation; it is not derivative from compact, from a n y action of society. If everyone h a s the n a t u r a l r i g h t to preserve himself, he necessarily h a s the r i g h t to everyt h i n g t h a t is necessary for his self-preservation. W h a t is necess a r y for self-preservation is not so m u c h , as Hobbes m a y seem to h a v e believed, k n i v e s and guns as v i c t u a l s . Food is conducive to self-preservation o n l y if it is eaten, i . e . , appropriated in such a manner t h a t it becomes the exclusive property of the i n d i v i d u a l ; there is then a n a t u r a l r i g h t to some " p r i v a t e dominion exclusive of the rest of m a n k i n d . " W h a t is true of food applies mutatis mutandis to a l l other t h i n g s required for 107. "There seems some inconsistency between this acceptance of 'consent' as the basis of actual property rights and the theory that government exists for the purpose of defending the natural right of property. Locke would doubtless have solved the contradiction by passing, as he constantly does, from the phraseology of the 'law of nature' to utilitarian considerations" (R. H. I. Palgrave, Dictionary of Political Economy, s.v. " L o c k e " ) . Locke does not have to "pass" from the law of nature to utilitarian considerations because the law of nature, as he understands it, namely, as the formulation of the conditions of peace and public happiness, is in itself "utilitarian."

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self-preservation and even for comfortable self-preservation, for man h a s a n a t u r a l r i g h t not o n l y to self-preservation but to the pursuit of happiness as w e l l . The n a t u r a l r i g h t of everyone to appropriate e v e r y t h i n g t h a t is useful to h i m must be l i m i t e d if it is not to be incompatible w i t h the peace and preservation of m a n k i n d . T h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t must exclude a n y r i g h t t o appropriate t h i n g s w h i c h h a v e a l r e a d y been appropriated b y o t h e r s ; t a k i n g t h i n g s w h i c h others have appropriated, i . e . , h a r m i n g others, is a g a i n s t the n a t u r a l l a w . Nor does n a t u r a l l a w encourage b e g g i n g ; need a s such is not a t i t l e to property. Persuasion g i v e s as l i t t l e a t i t l e to property as does force. The o n l y honest w a y of appropriati n g t h i n g s is by t a k i n g t h e m , not from other men, but d i r e c t l y from nature, " t h e common m o t h e r of a l l " ; by m a k i n g one's o w n w h a t previously belonged to no one and therefore m i g h t be t a k e n by a n y o n e ; the o n l y honest w a y of appropriating t h i n g s is by one's o w n labor. Everyone is by nature the exclusive o w n e r of h i s body and hence of the w o r k of h i s body, i . e . , of h i s labor. Therefore, if a m a n m i x e s h i s labor—be it o n l y the labor involved in p i c k i n g b e r r i e s — w i t h t h i n g s of w h i c h no one is the owner, those t h i n g s become an indissoluble m i x t u r e of h i s exclusive property w i t h no one's property, and therefore t h e y become h i s exclusive property. L a b o r is the o n l y t i t l e to property w h i c h i s i n accordance w i t h n a t u r a l r i g h t . " M a n , b y being master of himself and proprietor of h i s o w n person and the actions or labour of i t , [ h a s ] in himself the great foundation of p r o p e r t y . " Not society, but t h e i n d i v i d u a l — t h e indiv i d u a l prompted by h i s self-interest a l o n e — i s the o r i g i n a t o r of property. 108

Nature h a s set "a measure of p r o p e r t y " : there are n a t u r a l l a w l i m i t a t i o n s t o w h a t a man m a y appropriate. Everyone m a y appropriate by his labor as much as is necessary and useful for h i s self-preservation. He m a y therefore appropriate in par108. Triatises, II, sees. 26-30, 34, 44.


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t i c u l a r as much l a n d as he can use for t i l l i n g or g r a z i n g . If he h a s more t h a n he can use of one k i n d of t h i n g s (a) and less t h a n he can use of another k i n d ( b ) , he could m a k e a useful to himself by bartering it a w a y from b. Hence e v e r y m a n m a y appropriate by h i s labor not o n l y w h a t is in itself useful to h i m but a l s o w h a t could become useful to h i m if bartered a w a y for o t h e r useful t h i n g s . M a n m a y appropriate b y h i s labor a l l those t h i n g s , but o n l y those t h i n g s , w h i c h are, o r m a y become, useful to h i m ; he m a y not appropriate t h i n g s w h i c h t h r o u g h h i s appropriating them w o u l d cease to be useful; he m a y appropriate as much as he " c a n m a k e use of to a n y a d v a n t a g e of life before it s p o i l s . " He m a y therefore accumul a t e m a n y more nuts w h i c h " l a s t good for his e a t i n g a w h o l e y e a r " t h a n plums w h i c h w o u l d " r o t i n a w e e k . " A s for t h i n g s w h i c h never spoil and, in a d d i t i o n , are of no " r e a l u s e , " such as gold, s i l v e r , and diamonds, he m a y " h e a p ' ' as much of t h e m as he p l e a s e s . For it is not " t h e l a r g e n e s s " of w h a t a man a p propriates by h i s labor ( o r by bartering the products of h i s l a b o r ) but " t h e perishing a n y t h i n g uselessly i n [ h i s ] possess i o n " w h i c h m a k e s h i m g u i l t y o f a crime a g a i n s t the n a t u r a l l a w . He m a y therefore accumulate v e r y l i t t l e of perishable a n d useful t h i n g s . He m a y accumulate v e r y much of durable a n d useful t h i n g s . He m a y accumulate infinitely much of g o l d a n d silver. T h e terrors of the n a t u r a l l a w no longer strike t h e covetous, but the w a s t e r . The n a t u r a l l a w regarding property is concerned w i t h the prevention of w a s t e ; in a p p r o p r i a t i n g t h i n g s by h i s labor, man must t h i n k e x c l u s i v e l y of the prevention of w a s t e ; he does not h a v e to t h i n k of other h u m a n beings. Chacun pour sot; Dieu pour nous tous. The l a w of nature regarding property, as h i t h e r t o summa109

110

109. Ibid., sees. 31, 37, 38, 46. 110. Cf. Ibid., sees. 40-44, with Cicero Offices ii. 12-14: the same type of example which Cicero uses for proving the virtue of man's helping man is used by Locke for proving the virtue of labor.

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rized, applies o n l y to the state of nature or to a certain stage of the state of nature. It is t h e " o r i g i n a l l a w of n a t u r e " w h i c h obtained " i n the first ages of the w o r l d " or " i n the beginn i n g . " And it obtained in t h a t remote past o n l y because the conditions in w h i c h men then l i v e d required it. The l a w of nature could remain silent about the interests or needs of other men because these needs were t a k e n care of by " t h e common mother of a l l " ; h o w e v e r much a m a n m i g h t appropriate by h i s labor, there w a s " e n o u g h and as good left in common for o t h e r s . " The o r i g i n a l l a w of nature w a s the dictate of reason in the beginning, because in the beginning the w o r l d w a s sparsely populated and there w a s " p l e n t y of n a t u r a l provis i o n s . " T h i s cannot mean t h a t e a r l y men l i v e d in a state of abundance showered upon them by t h e i r common mother; for if t h i s h a d been the case, man w o u l d not h a v e been compelled from the v e r y beginning to w o r k for h i s l i v i n g , and the l a w of nature w o u l d not h a v e prohibited so sternly every k i n d of w a s t e . The n a t u r a l plenty is o n l y a potential p l e n t y : " n a t u r e and the e a r t h furnished o n l y the a l m o s t w o r t h l e s s m a t e r i a l s as in t h e m s e l v e s " ; t h e y furnished " a c o r n , w a t e r , and l e a v e s , or s k i n s , ' ' the food and drink and c l o t h i n g of the golden a g e or of the Garden of Eden, as distinguished from " b r e a d , w i n e , and c l o t h . " The n a t u r a l p l e n t y , the p l e n t y of the first a g e s , never became a c t u a l p l e n t y during the first a g e s ; it w a s a c t u a l penury. This being the case, it w a s p l a i n l y impossible for man to appropriate by h i s labor more than the bare necessities of life or w h a t w a s a b s o l u t e l y necessary for mere self-preservation ( a s distinguished from comfortable self-preservation); the n a t u r a l r i g h t to comfortable self-preservation w a s i l l u s o r y . But prec i s e l y for this reason, every man w a s forced to appropriate by his labor w h a t he needed for his self-preservation w i t h o u t a n y 111

112

111. Treatises, II, sees. 30, 36, 37, 45. Consider the transition from the present tense to the past tense in sees. 32-51; consider especially sec. 51. 112. Ibid., sees. 27, 3 1 , 33, 34, 36.


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concern for other men. For man is obliged to be concerned w i t h the preservation of others o n l y if and w h e n " h i s o w n preservation comes not in c o m p e t i t i o n . " Locke e x p l i c i t l y justifies m a n ' s n a t u r a l r i g h t to appropriate and to o w n w i t h o u t concern for the needs of others by referring to the plenty of n a t u r a l provisions w h i c h w a s a v a i l a b l e i n the beginning; but such unconcern can be justified e q u a l l y w e l l on his principles if one assumes t h a t men l i v e d in a state of p e n u r y ; and it must be justified in the l a t t e r manner, since Locke s a y s that the o n l y men to w h o m the o r i g i n a l l a w of nature applied l i v e d in a state of penury. It is the poverty of the first a g e s of the w o r l d w h i c h e x p l a i n s w h y t h e o r i g i n a l l a w o f nature ( 1 ) commanded approp r i a t i o n by l a b o r alone, ( 2 ) commanded the prevention of w a s t e , and ( 3 ) permitted unconcern for the need of other h u man beings. Appropriation w i t h o u t concern for the need of others is s i m p l y justified because it is justified regardless of w h e t h e r men l i v e d in a state of p l e n t y or in a state of penury. 113

Let us n o w consider t h a t form of the l a w of nature r e g a r d i n g property w h i c h h a s t a k e n the place of the o r i g i n a l l a w of nature, o r w h i c h r e g u l a t e s property w i t h i n c i v i l society. According to t h e o r i g i n a l l a w of nature, man m a y appropriate by h i s labor as m u c h as he can use before it s p o i l s ; no other l i m i t a 113. Ibid., sees. 6, 3 2 , 37, 41, 42, 43, 49,107, 110. Locke says that early men did not desire to have "more than man needed." But one must wonder whether "the needy and wretched" individuals who peopled the earth in the beginning always had what man needs. For the reason given in the text, man must have the natural right to appropriate by his labor what he needs for his self-preservation, regardless of whether or not there is enough left for others. The same reasoning seems to lead to the further conclusion that lawful appropriation cannot be limited to appropriation by labor; for in a state of extreme scarcity everyone may take away from others what he needs for mere self-preservation, regardless of whether or not the others starve. But this merely means that in a condition of extreme scarcity peace is altogether impossible, and natural law formulates how men have to act for the sake of peace, if peace is not altogether impossible: the natural law regarding property necessarily remains within the limits set to the law of nature as such. But in the misty wilds that stretch out beyond those limits, there exists merely the right of self-preservation, which is as precarious there as it is everywhere indefeasible.

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tions are required because there is e n o u g h and as good left for others w h i c h h a s not y e t been appropriated by a n y o n e . A c cording to the o r i g i n a l l a w of nature, man m a y appropriate by h i s labor as much g o l d and silver as he pleases because these t h i n g s are of no v a l u e in t h e m s e l v e s . In c i v i l society almost e v e r y t h i n g h a s been appropriated; l a n d in p a r t i c u l a r h a s become scarce. Gold and s i l v e r are not o n l y scarce but, t h r o u g h the invention of money, t h e y h a v e become " s o v a l u a b l e to be hoarded u p . " One should therefore expect t h a t the o r i g i n a l l a w of nature h a s been replaced by rules imposing much severer restrictions on appropriation t h a n those w h i c h existed in the state of n a t u r e . Since there is no longer enough and as good left in common for everyone, e q u i t y w o u l d seem to demand t h a t m a n ' s n a t u r a l r i g h t to appropriate as much as he can use should be restricted to t h e r i g h t to appropriate as much as he needs, lest the poor be " s t r a i t e n e d . " And, since g o l d and silver are n o w immensely v a l u a b l e , e q u i t y w o u l d seem to demand t h a t man should lose the n a t u r a l r i g h t to acc u m u l a t e as much money as he p l e a s e s . Yet Locke teaches exa c t l y the opposite: the r i g h t to appropriate is much more restricted in the state of nature t h a n in c i v i l society. One p r i v i lege enjoyed by man in the state of nature is indeed denied to man l i v i n g in c i v i l s o c i e t y : labor no longer creates a sufficient t i t l e to p r o p e r t y . But t h i s loss is o n l y a part of the enormous g a i n w h i c h the r i g h t of appropriation m a k e s after " t h e first a g e s " h a v e come to their end. In c i v i l society the r i g h t of a p propriation is completely freed from the shackles by w h i c h it 114

1 1 5

116

117

114. Ibid., sees. 33, 34, 37, 46. 115. Ibid., sees. 45 and 48. 116. "The obligations of the law of nature cease not in society but only in many casts are drawn closer" (ibid., sec. 135) (the italics arc not in the original). The case of property does not belong to the "many cases" of which Locke speaks. 117. "Labour, in the beginning, gave a right to property" (ibid., sec. 45); "labour could at first begin a title of property" (sec. 51); cf. also sees. 30 and 35 (the italics are not in the original).


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w a s s t i l l fettered under L o c k e ' s o r i g i n a l l a w o f n a t u r e : the i n troduction of money h a s introduced " l a r g e r possessions and a r i g h t t o t h e m " ; man m a y n o w " r i g h t f u l l y and w i t h o u t inj u r y , possess more t h a n he himself can m a k e use o f . " A l t h o u g h L o c k e stresses the fact t h a t the invention of money h a s revolutionized property, he does not s a y a w o r d to the effect t h a t the n a t u r a l r i g h t to h e a p as much g o l d and silver as one pleases h a s been affected by t h a t r e v o l u t i o n . According to t h e n a t u r a l l a w — a n d t h i s means according t o the moral l a w — m a n in c i v i l s o c i e t y m a y acquire as much property of every k i n d , and in p a r t i c u l a r as much money, as he p l e a s e s ; and he m a y acquire i t i n every manner permitted b y the p o s i t i v e l a w , w h i c h keeps the peace among the competitors and in the interest of t h e competitors. Even the n a t u r a l l a w p r o h i b i t i o n a g a i n s t w a s t e i s n o longer v a l i d i n c i v i l s o c i e t y . 118

119

118. Ibid., sees. 36, 48, 50. 119. Luigi Cossa, An Introduction to the Study of Political Economy (London, 1893), p. 242: Locke "escapes, by roundly asserting the productive power of labour, the old error of Hobbes, who counted the soil and thrift as components of production." According to Locke, the original law of nature regarding property remains valid in relations between civil societies, for "all commonwealths are in the state of nature one with another" (Treatises, II, sees. 183 and 184; cf. Hobbes, De cive, XIII, 11, and XIV, 4, as well as Leviathan, chaps, xiii [83] and xxx [226]). Hence the original law of nature determines the rights over the vanquished which the conqueror in a just war acquires; e.g., the conqueror in a just war does not acquire title to the landed property of the conquered, but he may take away their money as reparation for damages received, for "such riches and treasure . . . have but a fantastical imaginary value; nature has put no such upon them" (Treatises, II, sees. 180-84). In making this statement, Locke is not oblivious of the fact that money is immensely valuable in civil societies and that conquest presupposes the existence of civil societies. The difficulty is resolved by the following consideration: The primary function of Locke's disquisition on conquest is to show that conquest cannot give title to lawful government. He had, therefore, to show in particular that the conqueror does not become the lawful governor of the conquered by becoming the proprietor of their land; hence he had to stress the essential difference between land and money and the greater value for self-preservation of the former. Furthermore, he speaks in this context of a situation where trade and industry have come to a standstill, and not comfortable self-preservation but bare self-preservation (of the innocent part of the conquered people) is at stake. This situation is radically different from the situation which exists in the state of nature proper: in the former situa-

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Locke does not commit the a b s u r d i t y of justifying the emancipation of acquisitiveness by a p p e a l i n g to a nonexistent absolute r i g h t of property. He justifies the emancipation of acquisitiveness in the o n l y w a y in w h i c h it can be defended: he s h o w s t h a t it is conducive to the common good, to p u b l i c happiness or the temporal prosperity of society. Restrictions on acquisitiveness were required in t h e state of nature because the state of nature is a state of penury. T h e y can safely be abandoned in c i v i l society because c i v i l society is a state of p l e n t y : ". . .a k i n g of a l a r g e and fruitful t e r r i t o r y [in Ameri c a ] feeds, l o d g e s , and is clad w o r s e t h a n a day-labourer in E n g l a n d . " The d a y laborer i n E n g l a n d h a s n o n a t u r a l r i g h t even to complain about the loss of h i s n a t u r a l r i g h t to appropriate l a n d and other t h i n g s by h i s l a b o r : the exercise of a l l the r i g h t s and p r i v i l e g e s of the state of nature w o u l d g i v e h i m less w e a l t h t h a n he gets by receiving " s u b s i s t e n c e " w a g e s for h i s w o r k . Far from being straitened by the emancipation of acquisitiveness, t h e poor are enriched by it. For the emancipation of acquisitiveness is not merely compatible w i t h general 120

tion, the conqueror "hath, and to spare" and there is nothing left in common for use by the conquered; the conqueror is therefore under an obligation to be charitable (Treatises, II, sec. 183); but in the state of nature proper, either no one "hath, and to spare" or else there is enough left in common for other men. Locke refrains from discussing what conquerors may do if they do not "have, and to spare," or, in other words, "when all the world is overcharged with inhabitants." Since, according to his principles, the conquerors arc under no obligation to consider the claims of the conquered if their own preservation comes into competition, he must have answered that question as Hobbes did: "then the last remedy of all is war; which provideth for every man, by victory, or death" (Leviathan, chap, xxx [227]; cf. De cive, Ep. dcd.). 120. Treatises, II, sec. 41. "I look on a right of property—on the right of the individuals, to have and to own, for their own separate and selfish use and enjoyment, the produce of their own industry, with power freely to dispose of the whole of that in the manner most agreeable to themselves, as essential to the welfare and even to the continued existence of society . . . believing . . . with Mr. Locke that nature establishes such a right" (Thomas Hodgskin, The Natural and Artificial Right of Property Contrasted [1832], p. 24; quoted from W. Stark, The Ideal Foundations of Economic Thought [London, 1943], p. 59).


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p l e n t y but is t h e cause of i t . U n l i m i t e d appropriation w i t h o u t concern for t h e need of others is true c h a r i t y . Labor no doubt supplies the o r i g i n a l t i t l e to property. But labor is also t h e o r i g i n of almost a l l v a l u e : " l a b o u r m a k e s the far greatest p a r t of the value of t h i n g s we enjoy in t h i s w o r l d . " Labor ceases to supply a t i t l e to property in c i v i l society; but it r e m a i n s , w h a t it a l w a y s h a s been, the o r i g i n of v a l u e or of w e a l t h . Labor is e v e n t u a l l y important, not as creating a t i t l e to property, but as the o r i g i n of w e a l t h . W h a t , then, is the cause of labor? W h a t is it t h a t induces men to w o r k ? M a n is induced t o w o r k b y h i s w a n t s , h i s selfish w a n t s . Yet w h a t h e needs for h i s bare self-preservation is very l i t t l e and therefore does not require much w o r k ; the p i c k i n g - u p of acorns and t h e g a t h e r i n g of apples from trees suffice. R e a l w o r k — t h e i m provement of the spontaneous gifts of nature—presupposes t h a t man i s not satisfied w i t h w h a t h e needs. His appetites w i l l not be e n l a r g e d if h i s v i e w s are not enlarged first. The men of l a r g e r v i e w s are " t h e r a t i o n a l , " w h o are a m i n o r i t y . R e a l w o r k presupposes, furthermore, t h a t man i s w i l l i n g and able to undergo the present h a r d s h i p of w o r k for the s a k e of future convenience; and " t h e i n d u s t r i o u s " are a m i n o r i t y . " T h e l a z y a n d inconsiderate part of m e n " m a k e s " t h e far greater n u m b e r . " The production of w e a l t h requires, therefore, t h a t the industrious and r a t i o n a l , w h o w o r k h a r d spont a n e o u s l y , t a k e the l e a d and force the l a z y and inconsiderate to w o r k a g a i n s t their w i l l , if for their o w n good. The man w h o w o r k s h a r d at improving the gifts of nature in order to h a v e not m e r e l y w h a t he needs but w h a t he can use, and for no other reason, " d o e s not lessen but increase the common stock of m a n k i n d . ' ' He is a greater benefactor of m a n k i n d t h a n those w h o g i v e a l m s to the poor; the l a t t e r lessen rather t h a n increase the common stock of m a n k i n d . M o r e t h a n that. By appropriating as much as t h e y can use, the industrious and r a tional reduce the extent of " t h e g r e a t commons of the w o r l d "

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w h i c h l i e s w a s t e ; t h r o u g h " s u c h e n c l o s u r e , " t h e y create a k i n d of s c a r c i t y w h i c h forces the l a z y and inconsiderate to w o r k much harder t h a n t h e y o t h e r w i s e w o u l d and t h u s t o improve t h e i r o w n condition by improving the condition of a l l . But r e a l p l e n t y w i l l not be produced if the i n d i v i d u a l does not h a v e an incentive to appropriate more t h a n he can use. Even the industrious and r a t i o n a l w i l l relapse into the d r o w s y laziness so characteristic of e a r l y m a n , as long as their amor habendi can h a v e no other objects t h a n t h i n g s w h i c h are useful in themselves, l i k e fertile land, useful a n i m a l s , and commodious houses. The labor required for creating plenty w i l l not be forthcoming if there exists no m o n e y : " F i n d out somet h i n g t h a t h a t h the use and v a l u e of m o n e y among his n e i g h bours, y o u s h a l l see the same man w i l l begin presently to enl a r g e h i s p o s s e s s i o n s " " b e y o n d the use of h i s f a m i l y and a plentiful supply to i t s consumption." W h i l e labor is then the necessary cause of p l e n t y , it is not i t s sufficient cause; the incentive to t h a t labor w h i c h is productive of r e a l p l e n t y is the acquisitiveness—the desire for h a v i n g more t h a n man can u s e — w h i c h comes into being t h r o u g h the invention of money. We must add the r e m a r k t h a t t h a t w h i c h money began comes to i t s fruition o n l y t h r o u g h the discoveries and inventions fostered by n a t u r a l science: " t h e study of nature . . . m a y be of greater benefit to m a n k i n d t h a n the monuments of e x e m p l a r y c h a r i t y t h a t h a v e , at so great c h a r g e , been raised by the founders of h o s p i t a l s and alms-houses. He t h a t first . . . made public the v i r t u e and r i g h t use of kin-kina . . . saved more from the g r a v e , t h a n those w h o built . . . h o s p i t a l s . " 121

If the end of government is n o t h i n g but " t h e peace, the safety, and public good of the p e o p l e " ; if peace and safety are the indispensable conditions of p l e n t y , and the public good of 121. Treatises, II, sees. 34, 37, 38, 40-44, 4fcW9; Essay, I, 4, sec. 15, and IV, 12, sec. 12; cf. Hobbes, Leviathan, chap, xxiv: "Money the blood of a commonwealth."


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the people is i d e n t i c a l w i t h p l e n t y ; if the end of government is therefore p l e n t y ; if plenty requires the emancipation of a c q u i s i t i v e n e s s ; and i f acquisitiveness necessarily w i t h e r s a w a y whenever its r e w a r d s do not securely belong to those w h o deserve them—if a l l t h i s is true, it f o l l o w s t h a t the end of c i v i l society is " t h e preservation of p r o p e r t y . " " T h e g r e a t and chief end . . . o f men's uniting into c o m m o n w e a l t h s and putting themselves under government is the preservation of their p r o p e r t y . ' ' By this central statement Locke does not mean t h a t men enter c i v i l society in order to preserve those " n a r r o w bounds of e a c h m a n ' s s m a l l p r o p e r t y " w i t h i n w h i c h their desires w e r e confined b y " t h e simple, poor w a y o f l i v i n g " " i n the beginning of t h i n g s " or in the state of nature. M e n enter society in order not so much to preserve as to enlarge t h e i r possessions. The property w h i c h is to be " p r e s e r v e d " by c i v i l society is not " s t a t i c " property—the s m a l l farm w h i c h one h a s inherited from one's fathers and w h i c h one w i l l hand d o w n t o one's children—but " d y n a m i c " property. L o c k e ' s t h o u g h t is perfectly expressed by M a d i s o n ' s s t a t e m e n t : " T h e protection of [different and unequal faculties of acquiring property] is the first object of g o v e r n m e n t . " 122

It is one t h i n g to s a y t h a t t h e end of government or of soc i e t y is the preservation of property or the protection of t h e unequal a c q u i s i t i v e faculties; it is an e n t i r e l y different t h i n g and, as it w o u l d seem, an e n t i r e l y superfluous t h i n g to s a y , as Locke does, t h a t property antedates society. Y e t , by s a y i n g t h a t property antedates c i v i l society, Locke s a y s t h a t even c i v i l property—the property o w n e d on the basis of p o s i t i v e l a w — i s in t h e decisive respect independent of s o c i e t y : it is not the creation o f society. " M a n , " i . e . , the i n d i v i d u a l , h a s " s t i l l in himself t h e great foundation of p r o p e r t y . " Property is cre122. Treatises, II, sees. 42,107,124,131; The Federalist, No. 10 (the italics are not in the original). Cf. n. 104 above.

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ated by the i n d i v i d u a l and in different degrees by different ind i v i d u a l s . C i v i l society merely creates the conditions under w h i c h t h e i n d i v i d u a l s can pursue t h e i r productive-acquisitive a c t i v i t y w i t h o u t obstruction. L o c k e ' s doctrine of property is d i r e c t l y i n t e l l i g i b l e t o d a y if it is t a k e n as the classic doctrine of " t h e spirit of c a p i t a l i s m " or as a doctrine r e g a r d i n g the chief objective of public p o l i c y . Since the nineteenth century, readers of Locke have found it h a r d t o understand w h y h e used " t h e p h r a s e o l o g y o f the l a w of n a t u r e " or w h y he stated h i s doctrine in terms of n a t u r a l l a w . But t o s a y t h a t public happiness requires the emancipation and the protection of the a c q u i s i t i v e faculties amounts to s a y i n g t h a t to accumulate as much money and other w e a l t h as one pleases is r i g h t or just, i . e . , i n t r i n s i c a l l y just or by nature just. And the rules w h i c h enable us to d i s t i n g u i s h between w h a t is by nature just and by nature unjust, either a b s o l u t e l y or under specific conditions, were c a l l e d the "propositions of the l a w of n a t u r e . " L o c k e ' s followers in l a t e r generations no longer believed t h a t t h e y needed " t h e p h r a s e o l o g y o f the l a w of n a t u r e " because t h e y t o o k for granted w h a t Locke d i d not t a k e for g r a n t e d : Locke s t i l l t h o u g h t t h a t he h a d to prove t h a t the u n l i m i t e d acquisition of w e a l t h is not unjust or m o r a l l y wrong. It w a s indeed e a s y for Locke to see a problem w h e r e l a t e r men s a w o n l y an occasion for a p p l a u d i n g progress or themselves, since in h i s a g e most people s t i l l adhered to the older v i e w according to w h i c h the u n l i m i t e d acquisition of w e a l t h i s unjust o r m o r a l l y w r o n g . T h i s also e x p l a i n s w h y , i n s t a t i n g h i s doctrine of property, Locke " s o i n v o l v e d h i s sense, t h a t it is not e a s y to understand h i m " or w e n t as much as possible " w i t h the h e r d . " W h i l e therefore concealing the r e v o l u t i o n a r y character of h i s doctrine of property from the mass of h i s readers, he y e t indicated it c l e a r l y enough. He did t h i s by occ a s i o n a l l y mentioning and a p p a r e n t l y approving the older v i e w . He traced the introduction of " l a r g e r possessions and a

MODERN NATURAL RIGHT r i g h t t o t h e m " t o " t h e desire o f h a v i n g more t h a n m a n " needs, or to an increase in " c o v e t o u s n e s s , " or to "amor sceleratus habendi, e v i l concupiscence." In the same vein he s p e a k s d i s p a r a g i n g l y of " l i t t l e pieces of y e l l o w m e t a l " and of " s p a r k l i n g p e b b l e s . " But he soon drops these niaiseries: the burden of h i s chapter on property is t h a t covetousness and concupiscence, far from being e s s e n t i a l l y e v i l or foolish, are, if properly channeled, e m i n e n t l y beneficial and reasonable, much more s o t h a n " e x e m p l a r y c h a r i t y . " B y b u i l d i n g c i v i l society on " t h e l o w but solid g r o u n d " of selfishness or of certain " p r i v a t e v i c e s , " one w i l l achieve much greater " p u b l i c benefits" t h a n b y f u t i l e l y a p p e a l i n g t o v i r t u e , w h i c h i s b y nature " u n e n d o w e d . " One must take one's bearings not by h o w men s h o u l d l i v e but b y h o w t h e y d o l i v e . Locke almost quotes the w o r d s of the apostle, " G o d w h o g i v e t h us r i c h l y a l l t h i n g s to enj o y , " and he speaks of " G o d ' s blessings poured on [ m a n ] w i t h a l i b e r a l h a n d , " and y e t " n a t u r e and the e a r t h furnish o n l y the almost w o r t h l e s s m a t e r i a l s as in t h e m s e l v e s . " He s a y s t h a t God is " s o l e lord and proprietor of the w h o l e w o r l d , " t h a t men are God's property, and t h a t " m a n ' s propriety in the creatures is n o t h i n g but t h a t l i b e r t y to use t h e m w h i c h God h a s p e r m i t t e d " ; but he also s a y s t h a t " m a n in the state of nature [ i s ] absolute lord of h i s o w n person and p o s s e s s i o n s . " He 123

124

126

123. Treatises, II, sees. 37, 46, 51 end, 75, 111. 124. Ibid., I, sees. 40, 43; II, sees. 31, 43. Cf. Locke's statements about the relative importance of the gifts of nature and human labor with a statement from Ambrose's Hexaemeron, translated by George Boas, in Essays on Pritnitivism and Related Ideas in the tAiddle Ages (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1948), p. 42. 125. Treatises, I, sec. 39; II, sees. 6, 27, 123. Incidentally, it may be remarked that if "man in the state of nature [is] absolute lord of his own . . . possessions" or if property is "for the benefit and sole advantage of the proprietor," the natural right of children "to inherit the goods of their parents" (ibid., I, sees. 88, 93, 97; II, sec. 190) is subject to the crucial qualification that the children have this right if the parents do not dispose of their property otherwise, as they may, according to Locke (I, sec. 87; II, sees. 57, 6 5 , 72, 116 end). The natural right of the children to inherit their parents' property amounts, then, merely to this, that if the parents die intestate, it is assumed that they would have preferred their children to strangers as heirs of their estate. Cf. I, sec. 89, with Hobbes, De cive, IX, 1 5 .

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s a y s t h a t " i t w i l l a l w a y s be a sin in a n y man of estate to l e t h i s brother perish for w a n t of affording h i m relief out of h i s p l e n t y . ' ' But in h i s t h e m a t i c discussion of property, he is silent about a n y duties of c h a r i t y . L o c k e ' s teaching o n property, a n d t h e r e w i t h h i s w h o l e p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y , are r e v o l u t i o n a r y not o n l y w i t h regard t o the biblical t r a d i t i o n but w i t h r e g a r d to the philosophic t r a dition as w e l l . Through the shift of emphasis from n a t u r a l duties or o b l i g a t i o n s to n a t u r a l r i g h t s , the i n d i v i d u a l , the e g o , h a d become t h e center and origin of the moral w o r l d , since man—as distinguished from m a n ' s end—had become t h a t center or o r i g i n . L o c k e ' s doctrine of property is a s t i l l more " a d v a n c e d " expression of t h i s r a d i c a l c h a n g e t h a n w a s the p o l i t i cal p h i l o s o p h y of Hobbes. According to L o c k e , man and not nature, the w o r k of man and not the gift of nature, is the o r i g i n of almost e v e r y t h i n g v a l u a b l e : m a n o w e s almost everyt h i n g v a l u a b l e to h i s o w n efforts. Not resigned g r a t i t u d e and consciously o b e y i n g or i m i t a t i n g nature but hopeful selfreliance and c r e a t i v i t y become henceforth the m a r k s of h u m a n n o b i l i t y . M a n is effectively e m a n c i p a t e d from the bonds of nature, and t h e r e w i t h the i n d i v i d u a l is emancipated from those social bonds w h i c h antedate a l l consent or compact, by the emancipation of h i s productive acquisitiveness, w h i c h is necess a r i l y , if a c c i d e n t a l l y , beneficent and hence susceptible of becoming the strongest social bond: restraint of the appetites is replaced by a mechanism w h o s e effect is humane. And t h a t emancipation is achieved t h r o u g h the intercession of the prot o t y p e of conventional t h i n g s , i . e . , money. The w o r l d in w h i c h human c r e a t i v i t y seems to r e i g n supreme i s , in fact, the w o r l d w h i c h h a s replaced the rule of nature by the rule of con126

126. Treatises, I, sec. 42 (as for the use of the term " s i n , " cf. n. 90 above). Cf. ibid., sec. 92: "Property . . . is for the benefit and sole advantage of the proprietor" (the italics are not in the original). As regards the mention of the duty of charity in the chapter on conquest ( i i , sec. 183), see n. 119 above. Cf. n. 73 above.


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vention. From n o w on, nature furnishes o n l y the w o r t h l e s s m a t e r i a l s as in t h e m s e l v e s ; the forms are supplied by m a n , by m a n ' s free creation. For there are no n a t u r a l forms, no intell i g i b l e " e s s e n c e s " : " t h e abstract i d e a s " are " t h e inventions and creatures of t h e understanding, made by it for i t s o w n u s e . " Understanding and science stand in the same relation to " t h e g i v e n " i n w h i c h h u m a n labor, c a l l e d forth t o i t s supreme effort by m o n e y , stands to the r a w m a t e r i a l s . There are, therefore, no n a t u r a l principles of understanding: a l l k n o w l e d g e is acquired; a l l k n o w l e d g e depends on labor and is l a b o r . 127

Locke is a h e d o n i s t : " T h a t w h i c h is properly good or b a d , is n o t h i n g but b a r e l y pleasure or p a i n . " But h i s is a p e c u l i a r h e d o n i s m : " T h e greatest happiness c o n s i s t s " not in enjoying the greatest pleasures but " i n the h a v i n g those t h i n g s w h i c h produce the greatest p l e a s u r e s . " It is not a l t o g e t h e r an accident t h a t the chapter in w h i c h these statements occur, and w h i c h happens to be the most extensive chapter of the w h o l e Essay, is e n t i t l e d " P o w e r . " For if, as Hobbes s a y s , " t h e p o w e r of a man . . . is h i s present means, to obtain some future a p parent g o o d , " Locke s a y s in effect t h a t the greatest happiness consists in t h e greatest p o w e r . Since there are no k n o w a b l e natures, there is no nature of man w i t h reference to w h i c h we could d i s t i n g u i s h between pleasures w h i c h are according to nature and pleasures w h i c h are a g a i n s t nature, or between pleasures w h i c h are by nature h i g h e r and pleasures w h i c h are by nature l o w e r : pleasure and pain are "for different men . . . v e r y different t h i n g s . " Therefore, " t h e philosophers of old d i d in v a i n i n q u i r e , w h e t h e r summum bonum consisted in riches, or b o d i l y d e l i g h t s , or v i r t u e , or c o n t e m p l a t i o n ? " In the absence of a summum bonum, man w o u l d l a c k completely a star and 127. Speaking of a concession which his opponents ought not to make, Locke says: "For this would be to destroy that bounty of nature they seem so fond of, whilst they make the knowledge of those principles to depend on the labour of our thoughts" (Essay, I, 2, sec. 10) (the italics are not in the original).

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compass for h i s life if there w e r e no summum malum. "Desire is a l w a y s moved by e v i l , to fly i t . " The strongest desire is the desire for self-preservation. The e v i l from w h i c h the strongest desire recoils is death. Death must then be the greatest e v i l : Not the n a t u r a l sweetness of l i v i n g but the terrors of death m a k e us cling to life. W h a t nature firmly establishes is t h a t from w h i c h desire moves a w a y , the point of departure of desire; the g o a l t o w a r d w h i c h desire m o v e s is secondary. The p r i m a r y fact is w a n t . But t h i s w a n t , t h i s l a c k , is no l o n g e r understood as pointing to something complete, perfect, w h o l e . The necessities of life are no longer understood as necessary for the complete life or the good life, but as mere i n e s c a p a b i l i t i e s . The satisfaction of w a n t s is therefore no longer l i m i t e d by the demands of the good life but becomes a i m l e s s . The g o a l of desire is denned by nature o n l y n e g a t i v e l y — t h e denial of p a i n . It is not pleasure more or less d i m l y a n t i c i p a t e d w h i c h e l i c i t s human efforts: " t h e chief, if not o n l y , spur to human industry and action is u n e a s i n e s s . " So powerful is the n a t u r a l p r i m a c y of pain t h a t the active denial of p a i n is itself painful. The pain w h i c h removes pain is l a b o r . It is t h i s pain, and hence a defect, w h i c h g i v e s man o r i g i n a l l y t h e most important of a l l r i g h t s : sufferings and defects, r a t h e r t h a n merits or v i r t u e s , o r i g i n a t e r i g h t s . Hobbes identified t h e r a t i o n a l life w i t h the life dominated by the fear of fear, by the fear w h i c h relieves us from fear. M o v e d by the same s p i r i t , Locke identifies the r a t i o n a l life w i t h the life dominated by the pain w h i c h relieves p a i n . Labor t a k e s the place of the art w h i c h i m i t a t e s nature; for labor i s , in the w o r d s of H e g e l , a n e g a t i v e a t t i t u d e t o w a r d nature. The starting point of human efforts is m i s e r y : the state of nature is a state of w r e t c h e d n e s s . The w a y t o w a r d happiness is a movement a w a y from the state of nature, a movement a w a y from n a t u r e : the n e g a t i o n of nature is the w a y 1 2 8

129

128. Essay, II, 21, sees. 55, 61, 71; chap. 20, sec. 6. 129. Treatises, II, sees. 30, 34, 37, 42.


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t o w a r d happiness. And if the movement t o w a r d happiness is the a c t u a l i t y of freedom, freedom is n e g a t i v i t y . J u s t l i k e the p r i m a r y p a i n itself, the pain w h i c h relieves pain "ceaseth o n l y in d e a t h . " Since there are therefore no pure pleasures, there is no necessary tension between c i v i l society as the m i g h t y l e v i a t h a n or coercive society, on the one h a n d , and the good life, on the o t h e r : hedonism becomes u t i l i t a r i a n i s m or p o l i t i cal hedonism. The painful relief of p a i n culminates not so much in the greatest pleasures as " i n the h a v i n g those t h i n g s w h i c h produce the greatest p l e a s u r e s . " Life is the j o y l e s s quest for j o y .

VI THE

CRISIS

OF

MODERN

A.

NATURAL

RIGHT

ROUSSEAU

T

HE first crisis of modernity occurred in the t h o u g h t of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Rousseau w a s not the first to feel t h a t the modern venture w a s a r a d i c a l error and to seek the remedy in a return to classical t h o u g h t . It suffices to mention the name of Swift. But Rousseau w a s not a " r e a c t i o n a r y . " He abandoned himself to modernity. One is tempted to s a y t h a t o n l y t h r o u g h t h u s accepting the fate of modern man w a s he led back t o a n t i q u i t y . A t a n y r a t e , h i s return t o a n t i q u i t y w a s , at the same t i m e , an advance of m o d e r n i t y . W h i l e appealing from Hobbes, L o c k e , or the Encyclopedists to P l a t o , A r i s t o t l e , or Plutarch, he jettisoned important elements of classical t h o u g h t w h i c h h i s modern predecessors h a d s t i l l preserved. In Hobbes, reason, using her a u t h o r i t y , h a d emancipated p a s sion; passion acquired the status of a freed w o m a n ; reason continued to rule, if o n l y by remote control. In Rousseau, passion itself took the i n i t i a t i v e and rebelled; usurping the place of reason and i n d i g n a n t l y denying her libertine past, passion began to pass judgment, in the severe accents of Catonic v i r t u e , on reason's turpitudes. The fiery rocks w i t h w h i c h the R o u s seauan eruption h a d covered the Western w o r l d w e r e used, after t h e y h a d cooled and after t h e y h a d been h e w n , for the imposing structures w h i c h the great t h i n k e r s of the l a t e e i g h t eenth and e a r l y nineteenth centuries erected. His disciples clarified h i s v i e w s indeed, but one m a y wonder w h e t h e r t h e y preserved the breadth of h i s vision. His passionate and forceful a t t a c k on m o d e r n i t y in the name of w h a t w a s at the same t i m e 252

THE CRISIS OF MODERN NATURAL RIGHT

253

classical a n t i q u i t y and a more advanced modernity w a s repeated, w i t h no less passion and force, by Nietzsche, w h o t h u s ushered in the second crisis of modernity—the crisis of our time. R o u s s e a u a t t a c k e d modernity in the name of t w o 'classical ideas : the c i t y and virtue, on the one h a n d , and nature, on the other. " T h e ancient p o l i t i c i a n s spoke u n c e a s i n g l y of manners and v i r t u e ; ours speak of n o t h i n g but trade and m o n e y . " Trade, money, enlightenment, the emancipation of a c q u i s i tiveness, l u x u r y , and the belief in the omnipotence of l e g i s l a tion are c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of the modern state, be it the absolute m o n a r c h y or the representative republic. Manners and v i r t u e are at home in the c i t y . Geneva is a c i t y , indeed, but it is less a c i t y t h a n the cities of classical a n t i q u i t y , e s p e c i a l l y R o m e : in h i s v e r y e u l o g y of Geneva, Rousseau c a l l s , not the Genevans, but the R o m a n s , the model of a l l free peoples and the most respectable of a l l free peoples. The R o m a n s are the most respectable of a l l peoples because t h e y w e r e the most v i r t u o u s , the most powerful, and the freest people t h a t ever w e r e . The Genevans are not R o m a n s or Spartans or even A t h e n i a n s , because t h e y l a c k the public spirit or the p a t r i o t i s m of the ancients. T h e y are more concerned w i t h t h e i r private or domestic affairs t h a n w i t h the fatherland. T h e y l a c k the greatness of soul of the ancients. They are bourgeois r a t h e r t h a n citizens. The sacred u n i t y of the c i t y h a s been destroyed in postclassical times by the dualism of p o w e r temporal and power s p i r i t u a l , 1

1. In the notes to this section, the following abbreviated forms of the titles arc used: "D'Alembert" = Lettre à d'Alembert sur les spectacles, ed. Léon Fontaine; "Beaumont" — Lettre a M. de Beaumont (Gamier ed.); "Confessions" = Les Confessions, ed. Ad. Van Bever; "C.S." = Contrat social; "First Discourse" = Discours sur les sciences et sur les arts, ed. G. R. Havens; "Second Discourse" = Discours sur Vorigine de Vinégalité (Flammarion éd.); "Emile" = Emile (Garnier éd.); "Hachette" = Œuvres completes, Hachette éd.; "Julie" — Julie ou la Nouvelle Héloïse (Garnier éd.); "Montagne" = Lettres écrites de la Montagne (Garnier éd.); "Narcisse" = Préface de Narcisse (Flammarion éd.); "Rêveries" = Les Rêveries du promeneur solitaire, ed. Marcel Raymond.

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and u l t i m a t e l y by the dualism of the e a r t h l y and the h e a v e n l y fatherland. 2

The modern state presented itself as an artificial body w h i c h comes into being t h r o u g h convention and w h i c h remedies the deficiencies of the state of nature. For the critic of the modern state, therefore, a question arose as to w h e t h e r the state of nature is not preferable to c i v i l society. Rousseau suggested the return to the state of nature, the return to nature, from a w o r l d of a r t i f i c i a l i t y and c o n v e n t i o n a l i t y . Throughout h i s entire career, he never w a s content m e r e l y to appeal from the modern state to the classical c i t y . He appealed almost in the same breath from the classical c i t y itself to " t h e man of nat u r e , " the prepolitical s a v a g e . 3

There is an obvious tension between the return to the c i t y and the return to the state of nature. T h i s tension is the substance of Rousseau's t h o u g h t . He presents to his readers the confusing spectacle of a man w h o p e r p e t u a l l y shifts back and forth between t w o d i a m e t r i c a l l y opposed positions. At one moment he a r d e n t l y defends the r i g h t s of the i n d i v i d u a l or the r i g h t s of the h e a r t a g a i n s t a l l restraint and a u t h o r i t y ; at the next moment he demands w i t h e q u a l ardor the complete submission of the i n d i v i d u a l to society or the state and favors the most rigorous moral or social d i s c i p l i n e . T o d a y most serious students of Rousseau incline to t h e v i e w t h a t he e v e n t u a l l y succeeded in overcoming w h a t t h e y regard as a temporary v a c i l l a t i o n . The mature Rousseau, t h e y h o l d , found a solution w h i c h he t h o u g h t satisfied e q u a l l y t h e l e g i t i m a t e c l a i m s of the 2. First Discourse, p. 134; Narcisse, pp. 53-54, 57 n.; Second Discourse, pp. 66, 67, 71-72; D'Alembert, pp. 192, 237, 278; Julie, pp. 112-13; C.S., IV, 4, 8; Montagne, pp. 292-93. No modern thinker has understood better than Rousseau the philosophic conception of the polis: the polis is that complete association which corresponds to the natural range of man's power of knowing and of loving. See especially Second Discourse, pp. 65-66, and C.S., II, 10. 3. First Discourse, pp. 102 n., 115 n., 140. "On me reproche d'avoir affecte de prendre chez les anciens mes examples de vertu. U y a bien de l'apparcnce que j'en aurais trouve encore davantage, si j'avais pu remontcr plus haut" (Hachette, I, 35-36).


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i n d i v i d u a l a n d those of society, the solution consisting in a certain t y p e of s o c i e t y . T h i s interpretation is exposed to a decisive objection. Rousseau believed to the end t h a t even the r i g h t k i n d of society is a form of bondage. Hence he cannot h a v e regarded h i s solution to the problem of the conflict bet w e e n the i n d i v i d u a l and society as more t h a n a tolerable a p p r o x i m a t i o n to a solution—an a p p r o x i m a t i o n w h i c h remains open to l e g i t i m a t e doubts. The farewell to society, a u t h o r i t y , | restraint, and r e s p o n s i b i l i t y or the return to the state of nature remains therefore for h i m a l e g i t i m a t e p o s s i b i l i t y . The question i s , t h e n , not h o w he solved the conflict between the i n d i v i d u a l and society but r a t h e r h o w he conceived of t h a t insoluble conflict. 4

6

R o u s s e a u ' s First Discourse provides a k e y to a more precise formulation of t h i s question. In t h a t earliest of h i s important w r i t i n g s he a t t a c k e d the sciences and the arts in the name of v i r t u e : the sciences and the arts are incompatible w i t h v i r t u e , a n d v i r t u e i s the o n l y t h i n g w h i c h m a t t e r s . V i r t u e a p p a r e n t l y requires support by faith or theism, a l t h o u g h not necessarily by m o n o t h e i s m . Yet the emphasis rests on virtue itself. R o u s seau i n d i c a t e s the meaning of virtue c l e a r l y enough for h i s purpose by referring to the e x a m p l e s of the citizen-philosopher Socrates, of Fabricius, and, above a l l , of C a t o : Cato w a s " t h e greatest o f m e n . " V i r t u e i s p r i m a r i l y p o l i t i c a l v i r t u e , the 6

7

8

4. The classic formulation of this interpretation of Rousseau is to be found in Kant's "Idee zu einer allgemeinen Geschichte in weltbürgcrlicher Absicht," Siebenter Satz (The Philosophy of Kant, ed. Carl J. Friedrich ["Modern Library" ed.], pp. 12327). 5. CS., I, 1; II, 7, 11; III, 15; Émile, 1,13-16, 79-80, 85; Second Discourse, pp. 65,147, 150, 165. 6. First Discourse, pp. 97-98, 109-10, 116. Hachette, I, 55: Morality is infinitely more sublime than the marvels of the understanding. 7. First Discourse, pp. 122, 140-41; Émile, II, 51; Julie, pp. 502 ff., 603; Montagne, p. 180. 8. First Discourse, pp. 120-22; Second Discourse, p. 150; Julie, p. 3 2 5 . Hachette, I, 45-46: Original equality is "the source of all virtue." Ibid., p. 59: Cato has given the human race the spectacle and the model of the purest virtue which has ever existed.

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virtue of the p a t r i o t or the virtue of a w h o l e people. V i r t u e presupposes free society, and free society presupposes v i r t u e : virtue and free society belong t o g e t h e r . Rousseau deviates from h i s c l a s s i c a l models at t w o p o i n t s . F o l l o w i n g M o n tesquieu, he regards virtue as the principle of democracy: v i r tue is inseparable from e q u a l i t y or from the recognition of e q u a l i t y . Secondly, h e believes t h a t the k n o w l e d g e w h i c h i s required for v i r t u e is supplied, not by reason, but by w h a t he c a l l s the " c o n s c i e n c e " ( o r " t h e sublime science of the simple s o u l s ' ' ) or by sentiment or by instinct. The sentiment w h i c h he h a s in mind w i l l prove to be o r i g i n a l l y the sentiment of compassion, the n a t u r a l root of a l l genuine beneficence. Rousseau s a w a connection between h i s i n c l i n a t i o n t o w a r d democracy and h i s preference for sentiment above reason. 9

10

11

Since Rousseau assumed t h a t virtue and free society belong together, he could prove t h a t science and v i r t u e are incomp a t i b l e by proving t h a t science and free society are incomp a t i b l e . The reasoning u n d e r l y i n g the First Discourse can be reduced to five chief considerations, w h i c h are indeed o n l y insufficiently developed in t h a t w o r k but w h i c h become sufficiently c l e a r if, in reading the First Discourse, one t a k e s into account R o u s s e a u ' s l a t e r w r i t i n g s . 12

9. Narcissi, pp. 54, 56, 57 n.; Emile, I, 308; C.S., I, 8; Confessions, I, 244. 10. Hachettc, I, 41, 45-46; Second Discourse, pp. 66, 143-44; Montagne, p. 252. Compare the quotation from Plato's Apology of Socrates ( 2 1 ff.) in the First Discourse (pp. 118-20) with the Platonic original: Rousseau fails to quote Socrates' censure of the (democratic or republican) statesmen; and he substitutes for Socrates' censure of the artisans a censure of the artists. b

11. First Discourse, p. 162; Second Discourse, pp. 107-10; Emile, I, 286-87, 307; Confessions, I, 199; Hachette, I, 31, 35, 62-63. 12. This procedure is unobjectionable, since Rousseau himself said that he did not yet reveal his principles fully in the First Discourse and that that work is inadequate also for other reasons (First Discourse, pp. 51, 56, 92, 169-70); and, on the other hand, the First Discourse reveals more clearly than do the later writings the unity of Rousseau's fundamental conception.


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According to Rousseau, c i v i l society is e s s e n t i a l l y a particul a r or, more precisely, a closed society. C i v i l society, he h o l d s , can be h e a l t h y o n l y if it h a s a character of its o w n , and t h i s requires t h a t its i n d i v i d u a l i t y be produced or fostered by nat i o n a l and exclusive institutions. These institutions must be a n i m a t e d by a n a t i o n a l " p h i l o s o p h y , " by a w a y of t h i n k i n g t h a t is not transferable to other societies: " t h e p h i l o s o p h y of each people is l i t t l e apt for another p e o p l e . " On the other h a n d , science or p h i l o s o p h y is e s s e n t i a l l y universal. Science or p h i l o s o p h y necessarily w e a k e n s the p o w e r of the n a t i o n a l " p h i l o s o p h i e s " and t h e r e w i t h the attachment of the citizens to the p a r t i c u l a r w a y of life, or the manners, of their commun i t y . In other w o r d s , w h e r e a s science is e s s e n t i a l l y cosmopolit a n , society must be a n i m a t e d by a spirit of p a t r i o t i s m , by a spirit w h i c h i s b y n o means irreconcilable w i t h n a t i o n a l h a treds. P o l i t i c a l society being a society t h a t h a s to defend itself a g a i n s t other states, it must foster the m i l i t a r y v i r t u e s , and it n o r m a l l y develops a w a r l i k e spirit. Philosophy or science, on the contrary, is destructive of the w a r l i k e s p i r i t . Furthermore, society requires t h a t its members be fully devoted to the common good or t h a t t h e y be busy or active on behalf of t h e i r f e l l o w s : " E v e r y idle citizen is a scoundrel." On the other h a n d , the element of science is a d m i t t e d l y leisure, w h i c h is falsely distinguished from idleness. In other w o r d s , the true citizen is devoted to d u t y , w h e r e a s the philosopher or scientist selfishly pursues h i s p l e a s u r e . In addition, society requires t h a t its members adhere w i t h o u t question to certain r e l i g i o u s beliefs. These s a l u t a r y certainties, " o u r d o g m a s " o r " t h e sacred d o g m a s authorized by the l a w s , " are endangered by 13

14

13. First Discourse, pp. 107, 121-23, 141-46; Narcisse, pp. 49 a., 51-52, 57 n.; Second Discourse, pp. 65-66, 134-35, 169-70; C.S., II, 8 (toward the end); Emile, I, 1 3 ; Gouvernement de Pologne, chaps, ii and iii; Montagne, pp. 130-33. 14. First Discourse, pp. 101, 115, 129-32, 150; Hachette, I, 62; Narcisse, pp. 50-53; Second Discourse, p. 150; D'Alembcrt, pp. 120, 123, 137; Julie, p. 517; £milc, I, 248.

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science. Science is concerned w i t h t r u t h as such, regardless of i t s u t i l i t y , and t h u s by reason of i t s intention is exposed to the danger of l e a d i n g to useless or even harmful t r u t h s . In fact, h o w e v e r , the t r u t h is inaccessible, and therefore the quest for t r u t h leads to dangerous error or to dangerous skepticism. The element of society is faith or opinion. Therefore, science, or the attempt to replace opinion by k n o w l e d g e , necessarily endangers s o c i e t y . Moreover, free society presupposes t h a t i t s members h a v e abandoned their o r i g i n a l or n a t u r a l freedom in favor of conventional freedom, t h a t i s , in favor of obedience to the l a w s of the c o m m u n i t y or to uniform rules of conduct, to the m a k i n g of w h i c h everyone can h a v e contributed. C i v i l soc i e t y requires conformity or the transformation of man as natural being into the citizen. But the philosopher or scientist must follow h i s " o w n g e n i u s " w i t h absolute sincerity o r w i t h o u t a n y regard t o the general w i l l o r the communal w a y of t h i n k i n g . F i n a l l y , free society comes into being t h r o u g h 16

16

15. First Discourse, pp. 107, 125-26, 129-33, 151, 155-57; Narcisse, pp. 56, 57 n.; Second Discourse, pp. 71, 152; C.S., II, 7; Confessions, II, 226. Hachette, I, 38 n.: "Ce serait en effet un détail bien flétrissant pour la philosophie, que l'exposition des maximes pernicieuses et des dogmes impies de ses diverses sectes ... y-a-t-il une seule de toutes ces sectes qui ne soit tombée dans quelque erreur dangereuse? Et que devons-nous dire de la distinction des deux doctrines, si avidement reçu de tous les philosophes, et par laquelle ils professaient en secret des sentiments contraires à ceux qu'ils enseignaient publiquement? Pythagore fit le premier qui fut usage de la doctrine intérieure; il ne la découvrait à ses disciples qu'après de longues épreuves et avec le plus grand mystère. Il leur donnait en secret des leçons d'athéisme, et offrit solennellement des hécatombes à Jupiter. Les philosophes se trouvaient si bien de cette méthode, qu'elle se répandit rapidement dans la Grèce, et de là dans Rome, comme on le voit par les ouvrages de Cicéron, qui se moquait avec ses amis des dieux immortels, qu'il attestait avec tant d'emphase sur le tribunal aux harangues. La doctrine intérieure n'a point été portée d'Europe à la Chine; mais elle y est née aussi avec la philosophie; et c'est à elle que les Chinois sont redevables de cette foule d'athées ou de philosophes qu'ils ont parmi eux. L'histoire de cette fatale doctrine, faite par un homme instruit et sincère, serait un terrible coup porté à la philosophie ancienne et moderne." (The italics arc not in the original.) Cf. Confessions, II, 329. 16. First Discourse, pp. 101-2, 105-6, 158-59; Second Discourse, p. 116; C.S., I, 6, 8; II, 7; Emile, I, 13-15.


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the substitution of conventional e q u a l i t y for n a t u r a l i n e q u a l i t y . The pursuit of science, h o w e v e r , requires the c u l t i v a t i o n of t a l e n t s , t h a t i s , of n a t u r a l i n e q u a l i t y ; its fostering of ine q u a l i t y is so characteristic of it t h a t one is justified in s a y i n g t h a t concern w i t h superiority, or pride, is the root of science or p h i l o s o p h y . 17

It w a s by means of science or p h i l o s o p h y t h a t Rousseau est a b l i s h e d t h e thesis t h a t science or p h i l o s o p h y is incompatible w i t h free society and hence w i t h v i r t u e . In so doing, he t a c i t l y a d m i t t e d t h a t science or p h i l o s o p h y can be s a l u t a r y , i . e . , comp a t i b l e w i t h v i r t u e . He did not l e a v e it at t h i s t a c i t admission. In t h e v e r y First Discourse, he bestowed h i g h praise upon the learned societies w h o s e members must combine l e a r n i n g and m o r a l i t y ; he called Bacon, Descartes, and N e w t o n the teachers of the h u m a n race; he demanded t h a t scholars of the first r a n k should find honorable a s y l u m at the courts of princes, in order from there to enlighten the peoples concerning their duties and t h u s contribute to the peoples' h a p p i n e s s . 18

Rousseau h a s suggested three different solutions to t h i s cont r a d i c t i o n . According to the first suggestion, science is bad for a good s o c i e t y and good for a bad society. In a corrupt society, in a society ruled d e s p o t i c a l l y , the a t t a c k on a l l sacred opinions or prejudices is l e g i t i m a t e because social m o r a l i t y cannot become w o r s e than it a l r e a d y i s . In such a society, o n l y science can provide man w i t h a measure of relief: the discussion of t h e foundations of society m a y l e a d to the discovery of p a l l i a t i v e s for the p r e v a i l i n g abuses. T h i s solution w o u l d suffice if R o u s seau h a d addressed his w o r k s only to h i s contemporaries, i . e . , to members of a corrupt society. But he w i s h e d to l i v e as a w r i t e r beyond h i s t i m e , and he foresaw a revolution. He w r o t e , therefore, also w i t h a v i e w to the requirements of a 17. First Discourse, pp. 115, 125-26, 128, 137, 161-62; Narcisse, p. 50; Second Discourse, p. 147; C.S., I, 9 (end); Hachette, I, 38 n. 18. First Discourse, pp. 98-100, 127-28, 138-39,151-52, 158-61; Narcisse, pp. 45, 54.

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good society and, in fact, of a more perfect society t h a n h a d ever existed before, w h i c h m i g h t be established after the r e v o l u t i o n . T h i s best solution to the p o l i t i c a l problem is d i s covered by p h i l o s o p h y and o n l y by p h i l o s o p h y . Hence p h i losophy cannot merely be good for a bad s o c i e t y ; it is i n d i s pensable for the emergence of the best s o c i e t y . 19

According to Rousseau's second suggestion, science is good for " t h e i n d i v i d u a l s , " i . e . , for " s o m e g r e a t g e n i u s e s " or " s o m e p r i v i l e g e d s o u l s " or " t h e s m a l l number of true philosop h e r s , " among w h o m he counts himself, but bad for " t h e p e o p l e s " or " t h e p u b l i c " or " t h e common m e n " (les hommes I vulgaires). Hence he a t t a c k e d in the First Discourse, not science as such, but popularized science or the diffusion of scientific k n o w l e d g e . The diffusion of scientific k n o w l e d g e is disastrous not o n l y for society but for science or p h i l o s o p h y itself; t h r o u g h popularization, science degenerates into opinion, or the fight a g a i n s t prejudice becomes itself a prejudice. Science must remain the preserve of a s m a l l m i n o r i t y ; it must be kept secret from the common man. Since every book is accessible not o n l y to the s m a l l m i n o r i t y but to a l l w h o can read, R o u s seau w a s forced by his principle to present h i s p h i l o s o p h i c or scientific t e a c h i n g w i t h a great deal of reserve. He believed, indeed, t h a t in a corrupt society, l i k e the one in w h i c h he l i v e d , the diffusion of philosophic k n o w l e d g e can no longer be harmful; but, as w a s said before, he w r o t e not merely for h i s contemporaries. The First Discourse must be understood in the l i g h t of these facts. The function of t h a t w o r k is to w a r n a w a y from science, not a l l men, but o n l y the common men. W h e n Rousseau rejects science as s i m p l y b a d , he speaks in the character of a common man addressing common men. But he i n t i m a t e s t h a t , far from being a common m a n , he is a philosopher 19. First Discourse, p. 94 (cf. 38, 46, 50); Narcisse, pp. 54, 57-58, 60 n.; Second Discourse, pp. 66, 68, 133, 136, 141, 142, 145, 149; Julie, Preface (beginning); C.S., I, 1; Beaumont, pp. 471-72.

T H E CRISIS O F M O D E R N N A T U R A L R I G H T

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w h o m e r e l y appears in the guise of a common man and t h a t , far from u l t i m a t e l y addressing " t h e p e o p l e , " he addresses o n l y those w h o are not subjugated by the opinions of their century, of t h e i r country, or of their s o c i e t y . It m i g h t then seem t h a t it w a s R o u s s e a u ' s belief in the fund a m e n t a l disproportion between science and society ( o r " t h e p e o p l e " ) w h i c h w a s the p r i m a r y reason for h i s belief t h a t t h e conflict between the i n d i v i d u a l and society is insoluble or for h i s m a k i n g an u l t i m a t e reservation on behalf of " t h e i n d i v i d u a l , " i . e . , of the few " p r i v i l e g e d s o u l s " a g a i n s t the c l a i m s of even the best society. T h i s impression is confirmed by the fact t h a t R o u s s e a u finds t h e foundations of society in t h e needs of the b o d y and t h a t he s a y s of himself t h a t n o t h i n g related to the interest of h i s body could ever t r u l y occupy h i s soul; he himself finds in the j o y s and raptures of pure and disinterested contemplation—for example, the study of plants in the spirit of Theophrastus—perfect happiness and a g o d l i k e self-sufficiency. T h u s the impression g r o w s t h a t Rousseau sought to restore the c l a s s i c a l idea of p h i l o s o p h y as opposed to the En20

21

20. First Discourse, pp. 93-94, 108 n., 120, 125, 132-33, 1 5 2 , 157-62, 227; rjachette, I, 23, 26, 31, 33, 35, 47 n. 1, 48, 52, 70; Second Discourse, pp. 83, 170, 175; D'Alembert, pp. 107-8; Beaumont, p. 471; Montagne, pp. 152-53, 202, 283. A critic of the First Discourse had said: "On ne saurait mettre dans un trop grand jour des vérités qui heurtent autant de front le goût général...." Rousseau replied to him as follows: "Je ne suis pas tout-à-fait de cet avis, et je crois qu'il faut laisser des osselets aux enfants" (Hachette, I, 21; cf. also Confessions, II, 247). Rousseau's principle was to say the truth "en toute chose utile" (Beaumont, pp. 472, 495; Rêveries, I V ) ; hence one may not only suppress or disguise truths devoid of all possible utility but may even be positively deceitful about them by asserting their contraries, without thus committing the sin of lying. The consequence regarding harmful or dangerous truths is obvious (cf. also Second Discourse, end of the First Part, and Beaumont, p. 461). Compare Dilthcy, Gesammelte Schriften, XI, 92: "[Johannes von Mueller spricht] von der sonderbaren Aufgabe: 'sich so auszudrücken, dass die Obrigkeiten die Wahrheit lernen, ohne dass ihn die Untertanen verstünden, und die Untertanen so zu unterrichten, dass sie vom Glück ihres Zustandes recht überzeugt sein möchten.' " 21. First Discourse, p. 101; Montagne, p. 206; Confessions, III, 205, 220-21; Rêveries, V-VII

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l i g h t e n m e n t . It is c e r t a i n l y in opposition to the Enlightenment t h a t he reasserts the crucial importance of the n a t u r a l i n e q u a l i t y of men in regard to i n t e l l e c t u a l gifts. But one must add at once t h a t the instant Rousseau t a k e s h o l d of the classical viewhe succumbs a g a i n to the powers from w h i c h he sought to liberate himself. The same reason w h i c h forces h i m to appeal from c i v i l society to nature forces h i m to appeal from p h i l o s o p h y or science to n a t u r e . 22

The contradiction of the First Discourse regarding the v a l u e of science is solved as completely as R o u s s e a u ever solved it by h i s third suggestion, of w h i c h the first and second suggestions are parts. The first and second suggestions solve the contradiction by d i s t i n g u i s h i n g between t w o k i n d s of addressees of science. The t h i r d suggestion solves t h e contradiction by disting u i s h i n g between" t w o k i n d s of science : a k i n d of science w h i c h i s incompatible w i t h virtue and w h i c h one m a y c a l l " m e t a p h y s i c s " ( o r p u r e l y theoretical science) and a k i n d of science w h i c h i s compatible w i t h v i r t u e and w h i c h one m a y c a l l " S o c r a t i c w i s d o m . " Socratic w i s d o m i s self-knowledge; i t i s k n o w l e d g e of one's ignorance. It is therefore a k i n d of skepticism, an " i n v o l u n t a r y s k e p t i c i s m " but not a dangerous one. Socratic w i s d o m is not identical w i t h v i r t u e , for virtue is " t h e science of the simple s o u l s , " and Socrates w a s not a simple soul. W h e r e a s a l l men can be v i r t u o u s , Socratic w i s d o m is the preserve of a s m a l l m i n o r i t y . Socratic w i s d o m is e s s e n t i a l l y a n c i l l a r y ; the humble and silent practice of v i r t u e is the o n l y t h i n g t h a t m a t t e r s . Socratic w i s d o m h a s the function of defending " t h e science of the simple s o u l s , " or the conscience, a g a i n s t a l l k i n d s of sophistry. The need for such defense is not accidental and not l i m i t e d to times of corruption. As one of Rousseau's greatest disciples put i t , s i m p l i c i t y or innocence is a wonderful t h i n g indeed, but it can e a s i l y be m i s l e d ; "therefore 22. First Discourse, p. 115 n.; Narcisse, pp. 52-53; Second Discourse, pp. 89, 94, 109, 165; Julie, pp. 415-17; Emile, I, 35-36,118, 293-94, 320-21. Hachette, I, 62-63: "osera-ton prendre le parti de l'instinct contre la raison? C'est précisément ce que je demande."


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w i s d o m w h i c h o t h e r w i s e consists in doing or in forbearing to do r a t h e r t h a n in k n o w i n g , is in need of s c i e n c e . " Socratic w i s d o m is needed, not for the s a k e of Socrates, but for the s a k e of the simple souls or of the people. The true philosophers fulfil the a b s o l u t e l y necessary function of being the g u a r d i a n s of v i r t u e or of free society. Being the teachers of the h u m a n race, t h e y , and t h e y alone, can enlighten the peoples as to t h e i r duties and as to the precise character of the good s o c i e t y . In order to fulfil t h i s function, Socratic w i s d o m requires as i t s basis the w h o l e of t h e o r e t i c a l science; Socratic w i s d o m is the end a n d c r o w n of theoretical science. Theoretical science, w h i c h is not i n t r i n s i c a l l y in the service of virtue and is therefore b a d , m u s t be put into the service of v i r t u e in order to become g o o d . It can become good, h o w e v e r , o n l y if i t s s t u d y remains t h e preserve of the few w h o are by nature destined to guide t h e peoples; o n l y an esoteric theoretical science can become good. T h i s is not to deny t h a t , in times of corruption, t h e restriction on the p o p u l a r i z a t i o n of science can and must be relaxed. 23

T h i s solution m i g h t be regarded as final if the v i r t u o u s c i t i zen and not " n a t u r a l m a n " were Rousseau's u l t i m a t e standard. But according to h i m , the v e r y philosopher comes closer to n a t u r a l m a n in certain respects t h a n does the v i r t u o u s c i t i zen. It suffices here to refer to the " i d l e n e s s " w h i c h t h e p h i losopher shares w i t h n a t u r a l m a n . In the name of nature, Rousseau questioned not o n l y p h i l o s o p h y but the c i t y a n d v i r t u e as w e l l . He w a s forced to do so because h i s Socratic w i s d o m is u l t i m a t e l y based on t h e o r e t i c a l science or, r a t h e r on a p a r t i c u l a r k i n d of t h e o r e t i c a l science, n a m e l y , modern n a t u r a l science. 24

23. First Discourse, pp. 93, 97, 99-100, 107, 118-22, 125, 128, 129, 130 n., 131-32, 152-54, 161-62; Hachette, I, 35; Narcisse, pp. 47, 50-51, 56; Second Discourse, pp. 74, 76; simile, II, 13, 72, 73; Beaumont, p. 452. Cf. Kant, Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten Erster Abschnitt (toward the end). 24. First Discourse, pp. 105-6; Second Discourse, pp. 91, 97, 122, 150-51, 168; Confessions, II, 73; HI, 205, 207-9, 220-21; Réveries, VI (end) and VU. t

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To understand Rousseau's t h e o r e t i c a l principles, one must turn to h i s Discourse on the Origin of Inequality. Contrary to the inclinations of most present-day students, he a l w a y s regarded t h i s w o r k ( t h e Second Discourse) as "a w o r k of the greatest i m p o r t a n c e . " He claimed t h a t in it he h a d developed h i s principles " c o m p l e t e l y , " or t h a t the Second Discourse is the w r i t i n g i n w h i c h h e h a d revealed h i s principles " w i t h the greatest boldness, not to s a y a u d a c i t y . " The Second Discourse is indeed Rousseau's most philosophic w o r k ; it contains h i s fundament a l reflections. In particular, the Social Contract rests on the foundations l a i d in the Second Discourse. The Second Discourse is decidedly the w o r k of a " p h i l o s o p h e r . " M o r a l i t y is regarded there, not as an unquestioned or unquestionable presupposition, but as an object or as a problem. 26

26

The Second Discourse is meant to be a " h i s t o r y " of man. T h a t h i s t o r y is modeled on the account of the fate of the h u m a n race w h i c h Lucretius gave in the fifth book of h i s p o e m . B u t Rousseau t a k e s t h a t account out of i t s Epicurean context and puts it into a context supplied by modern n a t u r a l and social science. Lucretius h a d described the fate of the h u m a n race in order to s h o w t h a t t h a t fate can be perfectly understood w i t h out recourse to divine a c t i v i t y . The remedies for the i l l s w h i c h he w a s forced to mention, he sought in philosophic w i t h d r a w a l from p o l i t i c a l life. R o u s s e a u , on the other h a n d , t e l l s the story of m a n in order to discover t h a t p o l i t i c a l order w h i c h i s i n accordance w i t h n a t u r a l r i g h t . Furthermore, a t least at the outset, he follows Descartes rather t h a n Epicurus : he assumes t h a t a n i m a l s are machines and t h a t man transcends 27

25. Confessions, II, 221, 246. 26. Cf. especially C.S., I, 6 (beginning), which shows that the raison d'etre of the social contract is set forth, not in the C.S., but in the Second Discourse. Cf. also C.S., I, 9. 27. Second Discourse, p. 84; cf. also Confessions, II, 244. See Jean Morel, "Recherches sur les sources du discours de l'inégalité," Annales de la Société].-]. Rousseau, V (1909), 163-64.


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the general mechanism, or the dimension of ( m e c h a n i c a l ) nec e s s i t y , o n l y by virtue of the s p i r i t u a l i t y of h i s soul. Descartes h a d i n t e g r a t e d the " E p i c u r e a n " cosmology into a t h e i s t i c f r a m e w o r k : God h a v i n g created m a t t e r and established t h e l a w s of its m o t i o n s , the universe w i t h the exception of m a n ' s r a t i o n a l soul h a s come into being t h r o u g h p u r e l y m e c h a n i c a l processes; t h e r a t i o n a l soul requires special creation because t h i n k i n g cannot be understood as a modification of moved m a t t e r ; r a t i o n a l i t y is the specific difference of man among the a n i m a l s . R o u s s e a u questions not o n l y the creation of m a t t e r but l i k e w i s e the t r a d i t i o n a l definition of m a n . Accepting the v i e w t h a t brutes are m a c h i n e s , he suggests t h a t there is o n l y a difference of degree between men and the brutes in r e g a r d to understanding or t h a t the l a w s of mechanics e x p l a i n the form a t i o n of i d e a s . It is m a n ' s p o w e r to choose and h i s consciousness of t h i s freedom w h i c h cannot be explained p h y s i c a l l y and w h i c h proves the s p i r i t u a l i t y of h i s soul. "It is then not so much the understanding w h i c h constitutes the specific difference of m a n among the a n i m a l s as h i s q u a l i t y of a free a g e n t . ' ' Y e t , w h a t e v e r Rousseau m i g h t h a v e believed concerning t h i s subject, the argument of the Second Discourse is not based on the assumption t h a t freedom of the w i l l is of the essence of m a n , or, more g e n e r a l l y expressed, the argument is not based on d u a l i s t i c m e t a p h y s i c s . Rousseau goes on to s a y t h a t the cited definition of man is subject to dispute, and he therefore replaces " f r e e d o m " by " p e r f e c t i b i l i t y " ; no one can deny the fact t h a t m a n is distinguished from the brutes by perfectibili t y . R o u s s e a u means to put h i s doctrine on the most solid ground; he does not w a n t to m a k e it dependent on d u a l i s t i c m e t a p h y s i c s , w h i c h is exposed to " i n s o l u b l e o b j e c t i o n s , " to "powerful o b j e c t i o n s , " or to "insurmountable d i f f i c u l t i e s . " The argument of the Second Discourse is meant to be acceptable 28

28. Second Discourse, pp. 92-95, 118, 140, 166; Julie, p. 589 n.; Emile, II, 24, 37; Beaumont, pp. 461-63; Reveries, III. Cf. First Discourse, p. 178.

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to m a t e r i a l i s t s as w e l l as to others. It is meant to be neutral w i t h regard to the conflict between m a t e r i a l i s m and a n t i m a t e r i a l i s m , or to be " s c i e n t i f i c " in the present-day sense of t h e term. 29

30

The " p h y s i c a l " i n v e s t i g a t i o n of the Second Discourse is meant to be identical w i t h a study of the basis of n a t u r a l r i g h t and t h e r e w i t h o f m o r a l i t y ; the " p h y s i c a l " i n v e s t i g a t i o n i s meant to disclose the precise character of the state of nature. Rousseau t a k e s it for granted t h a t , in order to establish natu r a l right, one must return to the state of nature. He accepts Hobbes's premise. Dismissing the n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g of the ancient philosophers, he s a y s t h a t "Hobbes h a s seen very w e l l the defect of a l l modern definitions of n a t u r a l r i g h t . " " T h e m o d e m s " o r " o u r j u r i s t s " ( a s d i s t i n g u i s h e d from " t h e R o m a n j u r i s t s , " i . e . , U l p i a n ) erroneously assumed t h a t man i s b y nature capable of the full use of h i s reason, i . e . , t h a t man as man is subject to perfect duties of n a t u r a l l a w . Rousseau obv i o u s l y understands by " t h e modern definitions of n a t u r a l r i g h t " the t r a d i t i o n a l definitions w h i c h s t i l l predominated i n the academic t e a c h i n g of h i s t i m e . He agrees, then, w i t h Hobbes's a t t a c k o n the t r a d i t i o n a l n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g : natur a l l a w must h a v e its roots i n principles w h i c h are anterior t o reason, i . e . , in passions w h i c h need not be specifically h u m a n . He further agrees w i t h Hobbes in finding the principle of n a t u ral l a w in the r i g h t of self-preservation, w h i c h i m p l i e s the r i g h t of each to be the sole judge of w h a t are the proper means for h i s self-preservation. T h i s v i e w presupposes, according to both t h i n k e r s , t h a t life in the state of nature is " s o l i t a r y , " i . e . , t h a t it is characterized by the absence not o n l y of society but even of s o c i a b i l i t y . Rousseau expresses h i s l o y a l t y to the 31

29. As regards the prehistory of this approach, sec above, pp. 173-74 and 203-4. 30. Second Discourse, pp. 75, 173. 31. Ibid., pp. 76, 77, 90, 91, 94-95, 104, 106, 118, 120, 151; Julie, p. 113; C.S., I, 2; II, 4, 6; cf. also simile, II, 45.


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spirit of Hobbes's reform of the n a t u r a l l a w t e a c h i n g by subs t i t u t i n g for " t h a t sublime m a x i m of reasoned justice 'Do unto others as y o u w o u l d h a v e them to do unto y o u ' . . . t h i s much less perfect, but perhaps more useful m a x i m 'Do good to y o u r self w i t h as l i t t l e e v i l as possible to o t h e r s . ' " He tries no l e s s seriously t h a n Hobbes to find the basis of justice by " t a k i n g men as t h e y a r e , " and not as t h e y o u g h t to be. And he accepts Hobbes's reduction of virtue to social v i r t u e . 32

Rousseau deviates from Hobbes for the same t w o reasons for w h i c h he d e v i a t e s from a l l previous p o l i t i c a l philosophers. In the f i r s t p l a c e , " t h e philosophers w h o h a v e e x a m i n e d the foundations of society, have a l l of t h e m felt the necessity to go b a c k to the state of nature, but not one of them h a s arrived t h e r e . ' ' A l l o f them h a v e painted c i v i l i z e d m a n w h i l e c l a i m i n g to p a i n t n a t u r a l man or man in the state of nature. R o u s s e a u ' s 3 2 . Second Discourse, p. 110; cf. also C.S., I (beginning); D'Alemlert, pp. 246, 248; and Confessions, II, 267. Rousseau was fully aware of the antibiblical implications of the concept of the state of nature. For this reason, he originally presented his account of the state of nature as altogether hypothetical; the notion that the state of nature was once actual contradicts the biblical teaching which every Christian philosopher is obliged to accept. But the teaching of the Second Discourse is not that of a Christian; it is the teaching of a man addressing mankind; it is at home in the Lyceum at the time of Plato and of Xenocratcs, and not in the eighteenth century; it is a teaching arrived at by applying the natural light to the study of man's nature, and nature never lies. In accordance with these statements, Rousseau asserts later on that he has proved his account of the state of nature. What remains hypothetical, or less certain than the account of the state of nature, is the account of the development leading from the state of nature to despotism, or "the history of governments." At the end of the First Part of the bipartite work, Rousseau calls the state of nature a "fact": the problem consists in linking "two facts given as real" "by a sequence of intermediate and actually or supposedly unknown facts." The given facts are the state of nature and contemporary despotism. It is to the intermediate facts, and not to the characteristics of the state of nature, that Rousseau refers when he says in the first chapter of the C.S. that he does not know them. If Rousseau's account of the state of nature were hypothetical, his whole political teaching would be hypothetical; the practical consequence would be prayer and patience and not dissatisfaction and, wherever possible, reform. Cf. Second Discourse, pp. 75, 78-79, 81, 83-85, 104, 116-17, 149, 151-52, 165; cf. also the reference to the "thousands of centuries" required for the development of the human mind (ibid., p. 98) with the biblical chronology; see also Morel, of. c i t . , p. 135.

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predecessors attempted to e s t a b l i s h t h e character of n a t u r a l man by l o o k i n g at man as he is n o w . T h i s procedure w a s reasonable as long as it w a s assumed t h a t m a n is by nature s o c i a l . M a k i n g t h i s assumption, one could d r a w the line between the n a t u r a l and the positive or the conventional by identifying the conventional w i t h w h a t i s manifestly established b y convention. One could t a k e it for granted t h a t at least a l l those passions w h i c h arise in man independently of the fiat of society are n a t u r a l . But once one denies, w i t h Hobbes, m a n ' s n a t u r a l s o c i a l i t y , one must regard it as possible t h a t m a n y passions w h i c h arise in man as we observe h i m are conventional in so far as t h e y o r i g i n a t e in the subtle a n d indirect influence of soc i e t y and hence of convention. R o u s s e a u deviates from Hobbes because he accepts Hobbes's premise; Hobbes is grossly inconsistent because, on the one h a n d , he denies t h a t man is by nature social and, on the other h a n d , he tries to establish the character of n a t u r a l man by referring to h i s experience of men w h i c h i s the experience o f social m a n . B y t h i n k i n g t h r o u g h Hobbes's critique o f the t r a d i t i o n a l v i e w , Rousseau w a s brought face to face w i t h a difficulty w h i c h embarrasses most present-day social scientists: not the reflection on m a n ' s experience of men, but o n l y a specifically " s c i e n t i f i c " procedure, seems to be able to l e a d one to genuine k n o w l e d g e of the nature of m a n . R o u s s e a u ' s reflection on the state of nature, in contradistinction to Hobbes's reflection, t a k e s on the character of a " p h y s i c a l " i n v e s t i g a t i o n . 3 3

Hobbes h a d identified n a t u r a l man w i t h the s a v a g e . R o u s seau frequently accepts this identification and a c c o r d i n g l y m a k e s extensive use of the e t h n o g r a p h i c literature of the a g e . But h i s doctrine of the state of nature i s , in principle, independent of t h i s k i n d of k n o w l e d g e , since, as he points out, the s a v a g e is a l r e a d y molded by society and therefore no longer a n a t u r a l man in the strict sense. He a l s o suggests some experi33. Second Discourse, pp. 74-75, 82-83, 90, 98, 105-6, 137-38, 160, 175.


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merits w h i c h m i g h t be helpful for e s t a b l i s h i n g the character of n a t u r a l m a n . But these experiments, being e n t i r e l y a m a t t e r of the future, cannot be the basis of h i s doctrine. The method w h i c h he uses is a " m e d i t a t i o n on the first and most simple operations of the h u m a n s o u l " ; those m e n t a l acts w h i c h presuppose society cannot belong to m a n ' s n a t u r a l constitution, since man is by nature s o l i t a r y . 34

The second reason w h y Rousseau deviates from Hobbes can be stated as f o l l o w s . Hobbes h a d t a u g h t t h a t if n a t u r a l r i g h t is to be effectual, it must be rooted in passion. On the other h a n d , he h a d conceived of the l a w s of nature (of the rules prescribing m a n ' s n a t u r a l d u t i e s ) , a p p a r e n t l y i n the t r a d i t i o n a l manner, a s dictates of reason; he h a d described them as "conclusions or t h e o r e m s . " Rousseau d r a w s the conclusion t h a t , since Hobbes's c r i t i c i s m of the t r a d i t i o n a l v i e w is sound, one must question Hobbes's conception of the l a w s of n a t u r e : not-only the r i g h t of nature but the l a w s of nature or m a n ' s n a t u r a l duties or h i s social virtues must be rooted directly in passion; t h e y must h a v e a much more powerful support than reasoning or c a l c u l a t i o n . By nature, the l a w of nature "must speak i m m e d i a t e l y w i t h the voice of n a t u r e " ; it must be prerational, dictated by " n a t u r a l s e n t i m e n t " or by p a s s i o n . 36

Rousseau h a s summed up the result of h i s study of n a t u r a l man in the statement t h a t man is by nature good. T h i s result can be understood as the outcome of a criticism of Hobbes's doctrine w h i c h is based on Hobbes's premises. Rousseau argues as f o l l o w s : M a n is by nature a s o c i a l , as Hobbes a d m i t t e d . But pride or amour-pope presupposes society. Hence n a t u r a l man cannot be proud or v a i n , as Hobbes h a d contended t h a t he i s . But pride or v a n i t y is the root of a l l viciousness, as Hobbes h a d also contended. N a t u r a l man is therefore free from a l l 34. Ibid., pp. 74-77, 90, 94-95, 104, 124, 125, 174; cf. also Condorcet, Esquisse d'un tableau historique des progres de l'esprit humain, Première Epoque (beginning). 35. Second Discourse, pp. 76-77, 103, 107-10; cf. also Émile, I, 289.

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viciousness. N a t u r a l man is s w a y e d by self-love or the concern w i t h self-preservation; he w i l l therefore hurt others if he believes t h a t by doing so he w i l l preserve himself; but he w i l l not be concerned w i t h h u r t i n g others for i t s o w n s a k e , as he w o u l d be if he w e r e proud or v a i n . Furthermore, pride and compassion are incompatible; to the extent to w h i c h we are concerned w i t h our prestige, we are insensitive to the sufferings of others. The power of compassion decreases w i t h the increase of refinement or convention. Rousseau suggests t h a t n a t u r a l man is compassionate: the human race could not have survived prior to the existence of a n y conventional restraints if the powerful promptings of the instinct of self-preservation h a d not been m i t i g a t e d by compassion. He seems to assume t h a t the instinctive desire for the preservation of t h e species bifurcates into the desire for procreation and compassion. Compassion is the passion from w h i c h a l l social virtues derive. He concludes t h a t man is by nature good because he is by nature s w a y e d by selflove and compassion and free from v a n i t y or p r i d e . 36

For the same reason for w h i c h n a t u r a l man l a c k s pride, he also l a c k s understanding or reason and t h e r e w i t h freedom. Reason is coterminous w i t h l a n g u a g e , and l a n g u a g e presupposes society: being presocial, n a t u r a l man is prerational. Here a g a i n Rousseau d r a w s a necessary conclusion from Hobbes's premises w h i c h Hobbes h a d not d r a w n . To have reason means h a v e general i d e a s . But general i d e a s , as distinguished from the i m a g e s of m e m o r y or i m a g i n a t i o n , are not the products of a n a t u r a l or unconscious process; t h e y presuppose definitions; t h e y o w e their being to definition. Hence t h e y presuppose lang u a g e . Since l a n g u a g e is not n a t u r a l , reason is not n a t u r a l . From t h i s we can understand best w h y Rousseau replaces the t r a d i t i o n a l definition of man as a r a t i o n a l a n i m a l by a n e w definition. Furthermore, since n a t u r a l man is prerational, he is u t t e r l y incapable of a n y k n o w l e d g e of the l a w of nature w h i c h 36. Second Discourse, pp. 77, 87, 90, 97-99, 104, 107-10, 116, 120, 124-25, 147, 151, 156-57, 160-61, 165, 176-77.


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is the l a w of reason, a l t h o u g h " h e attributes to himself [in accordance] w i t h reason the r i g h t t o the t h i n g s w h i c h h e n e e d s . " N a t u r a l man is premoral in every respect: he h a s no heart. N a t u r a l man is s u b h u m a n . 37

R o u s s e a u ' s thesis t h a t man is by nature good must be understood in the l i g h t of his contention t h a t man is by nature subhuman. M a n is by nature good because he is by nature t h a t subhuman being w h i c h is capable of becoming either good or bad. There is no n a t u r a l constitution of man to speak of: everyt h i n g specifically h u m a n is acquired or u l t i m a t e l y depends on artifice or convention. M a n is by nature almost infinitely perfectible. There are no n a t u r a l obstacles to m a n ' s almost u n l i m ited progress or to his p o w e r of liberating himself from e v i l . For the same reason, there are no n a t u r a l obstacles to m a n ' s almost u n l i m i t e d degradation. M a n is by nature almost infinitely m a l l e a b l e . In the w o r d s of the Abbé R a y n a l , the human race i s w h a t w e w i s h t o m a k e it. M a n h a s n o nature i n the precise sense w h i c h w o u l d set a l i m i t to w h a t he can m a k e out of h i m s e l f . 38

37. Ibid., pp. 85, 89, 93-94, 98-99, 101, 102, 105-6, 109, 111, 115, 118, 157, 168. Morel (op. cit., p. 156) points in the right direction by saying that Rousseau "substitue à la fabrication naturelle des idées générales, leur construction scientifiquement réfléchie" (cf. above, pp. 172-74). In Rousseau's model, Lucretius' poem (v. 1028-90), the genesis of language is described without any reference to a genesis of reason: reason belongs to man's natural constitution. In Rousseau, the genesis of language coincides with the genesis of reason (C.S., I, 8; Beaumont, pp. 444, 457). 38. Rousseau's contention that man is by nature good is deliberately ambiguous. It expresses two incompatible views—a rather traditional view and a thoroughly antitraditional one. The first view can be stated as follows: Man is by nature good; he is bad through his own fault; almost all evils are of human origin: almost all evils are due to civilization; civilization has its root in pride, i.e., in the misuse of freedom. The practical consequence of this view is that men ought to bear the now inevitable evils of civilization in a spirit of patience and prayer. According to Rousseau, this view is based on belief in biblical revelation. In addition, natural man or man in the state of nature, as Rousseau describes him, is incapable of pride; hence pride cannot have been the reason for his leaving the state of nature (a state of innocence) or for his embarking on the venture of civilization. More generally expressed, natural man lacks freedom of w i l l ; hence he cannot misuse his freedom; natural man is characterized, not by freedom, but by perfectibility. Cf. Second Discourse, pp. 85, 89, 93-94, 102, 160; C.S., I, 8; cf. above, n. 32.

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If m a n ' s h u m a n i t y is acquired, t h a t acquisition must be explained. In accordance w i t h the requirements of a " p h y s i c a l i n v e s t i g a t i o n , " m a n ' s h u m a n i t y must be understood as a product of accidental causation. T h i s problem h a d h a r d l y existed for Hobbes. But it arose necessarily on the basis of his premises. He h a d distinguished between t h e n a t u r a l or mechanical production of n a t u r a l beings and t h e v o l u n t a r y or a r b i t r a r y production of h u m a n constructs. He h a d conceived of the w o r l d of man as a k i n d of universe w i t h i n the universe. He h a d conceived of m a n ' s l e a v i n g the state of nature and establ i s h i n g c i v i l society as a k i n d of revolt of man a g a i n s t nature. His notion of the w h o l e required, h o w e v e r , as Spinoza h a d indicated, t h a t the dualism of the state of nature and the state of c i v i l society, or the d u a l i s m of the n a t u r a l w o r l d and the w o r l d of m a n , be reduced to the monism of the n a t u r a l w o r l d or t h a t t h e transition from the state of nature to c i v i l society, or m a n ' s revolt a g a i n s t nature, be understood as a n a t u r a l proc3 9

e s s . Hobbes h a d concealed from himself t h i s necessity, p a r t l y because he erroneously assumed t h a t presocial man is a l r e a d y a r a t i o n a l being, a being capable of m a k i n g contracts. The transition from the state of nature to c i v i l society therefore coincided for h i m w i t h the conclusion of the social contract. But Rousseau w a s forced by h i s r e a l i z a t i o n of the necessary i m p l i c a t i o n s of Hobbes's premises to conceive of t h a t transition as consisting in, or at least as d e c i s i v e l y prepared b y , a n a t u r a l process: m a n ' s l e a v i n g the state of nature, his embarking on the venture of c i v i l i z a t i o n , is due not to a good or a bad use of h i s freedom or to essential necessity but to mechanical causation or to a series of n a t u r a l accidents. M a n ' s h u m a n i t y or r a t i o n a l i t y is acquired. Reason comes l a t e r than the e l e m e n t a r y w a n t s of t h e body. Reason emerges in the process of satisfying these w a n t s . O r i g i n a l l y , these simple and uniform w a n t s are e a s i l y satisfied. But t h i s v e r y 39. Cf. Spinoza's criticism of Hobbes in Ep. 50 with Tr. theol.-pol., chap, iv (beginning) and Ethics III praef.; cf. above, chap, v, A, n. 9.


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fact leads to an enormous increase in population and t h u s renders difficult the satisfaction of the elementary w a n t s . M a n is therefore forced to t h i n k — t o learn to t h i n k — i n order to surv i v e . Furthermore, the elementary w a n t s are satisfied in different manners under different c l i m a t i c and other conditions. The m i n d develops, therefore, in exact proportion to the part i c u l a r manner in w h i c h the basic w a n t s or their satisfaction are modified by p a r t i c u l a r circumstances. These circumstances mold men's t h i n k i n g . Once t h u s molded, men develop n e w w a n t s , and, in a t t e m p t i n g to satisfy t h e m , the mind develops further. The progress of the mind is then a necessary process. It is necessary because men are forced to invent by changes (formation of islands, eruption of volcanoes, and the l i k e ) w h i c h , a l t h o u g h not directed t o w a r d an end and hence accidental, are y e t the necessary effects of n a t u r a l causes. Accident forces understanding and its development upon m a n . T h i s being t h e character especially of the transition from the state of nature to c i v i l i z e d life, it is perhaps not surprising t h a t the process of c i v i l i z a t i o n should h a v e been destructive of the subh u m a n bliss of the state of nature or t h a t men should h a v e committed g r a v e errors in o r g a n i z i n g societies. Yet a l l t h i s misery and a l l these blunders w e r e necessary; t h e y w e r e the necessary outcome of e a r l y m a n ' s l a c k of experience and l a c k of p h i l o s o p h y . S t i l l , in and t h r o u g h society, h o w e v e r imperfeet, reason develops. E v e n t u a l l y , the o r i g i n a l l a c k of experience and of p h i l o s o p h y is overcome, and man succeeds in establ i s h i n g p u b l i c r i g h t on solid g r o u n d s . At t h a t moment, w h i c h is R o u s s e a u ' s moment, man w i l l no longer be molded by fortuitous circumstances but rather by h i s reason. M a n , t h e product of blind fate, e v e n t u a l l y becomes the seeing master of h i s fate. R e a s o n ' s c r e a t i v i t y or mastership over the blind forces of nature is a product of those blind forces. In R o u s s e a u ' s doctrine of the state of nature, the modern 40

40. Second Discourse, pp. 68, 74-75, 91, 94-96, 98-100, 116, 118-19, 123, 125, 127, 128, 130, 133, 135, 136, 141, 142, 145, 179; Narcisse, p. 54; Julie, p. 633 n.

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n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g reaches its c r i t i c a l stage. B y t h i n k i n g t h r o u g h t h a t t e a c h i n g , Rousseau w a s brought face to face w i t h the necessity of abandoning it completely. If the state of nature is subhuman, it is absurd to go back to the state of nature in order to find in it the norm for m a n . Hobbes h a d denied t h a t man h a s a n a t u r a l end. He h a d believed t h a t he could find a n a t u r a l or n o n a r b i t r a r y basis of r i g h t in m a n ' s beginnings. Rousseau showed t h a t m a n ' s beginnings l a c k a l l human t r a i t s . On the basis of Hobbes's premise, therefore, it became necess a r y to abandon a l t o g e t h e r the a t t e m p t to find the basis of r i g h t in nature, in h u m a n nature. A n d Rousseau seemed to h a v e s h o w n a n a l t e r n a t i v e . For h e h a d shown t h a t w h a t i s c h a r a c t e r i s t i c a l l y h u m a n is not the gift of nature but is the outcome of w h a t man did, or w a s forced to do, in order to overcome or to change n a t u r e : m a n ' s h u m a n i t y is the product of the h i s t o r i c a l process. For a moment—the moment lasted longer t h a n a century—it seemed possible to seek the standard of human action in the historical process. T h i s solution presupposed t h a t the historical process or its results are unamb i g u o u s l y preferable to the state of nature or t h a t t h a t process is " m e a n i n g f u l . " Rousseau could not accept t h a t presupposition. He realized t h a t to the extent to w h i c h the h i s t o r i c a l process is accidental, it cannot supply man w i t h a standard, and t h a t , if t h a t process h a s a hidden purpose, its purposefulness cannot be recognized except if there are trans-historical standards. The historical process cannot be recognized as progressive w i t h o u t previous k n o w l e d g e of the end or purpose of the process. To be meaningful, the h i s t o r i c a l process must culminate in perfect k n o w l e d g e of the true public r i g h t ; man cannot be, or h a v e become, the seeing master of h i s fate if he does not h a v e such k n o w l e d g e . It i s , t h e n , not k n o w l e d g e of the historical process but k n o w l e d g e of the true public r i g h t w h i c h supplies man w i t h the true standard. It h a s been suggested t h a t R o u s s e a u ' s predicament w a s due


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to mere misunderstanding. In the academic teaching of h i s t i m e , the state of nature w a s understood not as the condition in w h i c h m a n h a d a c t u a l l y l i v e d in the beginning but as a mere " s u p p o s i t i o n " : man in the state of nature is man w i t h a l l his essential faculties d u l y developed but " c o n s i d e r e d " as subject o n l y to t h e n a t u r a l l a w , and therefore as the bearer of a l l those duties and r i g h t s and of o n l y those duties and r i g h t s w h i c h derive from n a t u r a l l a w ; w h e t h e r man a c t u a l l y ever l i v e d in such a state in w h i c h he w a s not subject to a n y positive l a w is irrelevant. In the Second Discourse Rousseau himself a l l u d e s to t h i s conception of the state of nature and seems to accept i t . At the beginning of the Social Contract he seems to s a y t h a t k n o w l e d g e of the " h i s t o r i c a l " state of nature is irrelevant for the k n o w l e d g e of n a t u r a l r i g h t . A c c o r d i n g l y , h i s t e a c h i n g about the state of nature w o u l d seem to h a v e no other merit t h a n t h a t of h a v i n g made a b u n d a n t l y clear the necessity of keeping completely separate from each other the t w o w h o l l y unrelated m e a n i n g s of the state of n a t u r e : the state of nature as m a n ' s o r i g i n a l condition ( a n d hence as a fact of the p a s t ) and the state of nature as the l e g a l status of man as man ( a n d hence as an abstraction or a supposition). In other w o r d s , Rousseau seems to be a s o m e w h a t u n w i l l i n g w i t n e s s to the fact t h a t the academic n a t u r a l r i g h t teaching w a s superior t o the t e a c h i n g s of men l i k e Hobbes and L o c k e . T h i s criticism disregards the necessary connection between the question concerning the existence, as w e l l as the content, of n a t u r a l r i g h t and the question concerning the sanctions for n a t u r a l r i g h t , the l a t t e r question being identical w i t h the question of the status of man w i t h i n the w h o l e , or of m a n ' s o r i g i n . Rousseau is therefore not a l t o g e t h e r w r o n g i n s a y i n g t h a t a l l p o l i t i c a l philosophers h a v e felt the necessity to go back to the state of nature, i . e . , to m a n ' s o r i g i n a l condition; a l l p o l i t i c a l philosophers are forced 41

41. Moses Mendelssohn, Gesammelte Schrijten (Jubilaeums-Ausgabe), II, 92; cf. Second Discourse, p. 83, and above, pp. 230-31.

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to reflect upon w h e t h e r and h o w far the demands of justice have a support w h i c h is independent of h u m a n enactments. Rousseau could not have returned to the academic n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g of h i s time except by s i m p l y adopting the t r a d i tional natural theology on w h i c h that teaching w a s explicitly or implicitly based. 42

The character, as w e l l as the content, of n a t u r a l r i g h t m a y be d e c i s i v e l y affected by the w a y in w h i c h the origin of man is conceived. T h i s does not do a w a y w i t h the fact t h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t is addressed to man as he is n o w and not to the stupid a n i m a l w h i c h lived in R o u s s e a u ' s state of nature. It is therefore difficult to understand h o w R o u s s e a u could h a v e based h i s n a t u r a l r i g h t teaching on w h a t he believed he k n e w of n a t u r a l man or man in the state of nature. His conception of t h e state of nature points t o w a r d a n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g w h i c h is no longer based on considerations of m a n ' s nature, or it points t o w a r d a l a w of reason w h i c h is no longer understood as a l a w of n a t u r e . Rousseau m a y be said to h a v e indicated the character of such a l a w of reason by h i s t e a c h i n g concerning the general w i l l , by a t e a c h i n g w h i c h can be regarded as the outcome of the attempt to find a " r e a l i s t i c " substitute for the t r a d i t i o n a l n a t u r a l l a w . According t o t h a t t e a c h i n g , the l i m i t a t i o n of h u m a n desires is affected, not by the ineffectual requirements of m a n ' s perfection, but by t h e recognition in a l l others of the same r i g h t w h i c h one c l a i m s for one's self; a l l others necessarily t a k e an effective interest in the recognition of t h e i r r i g h t s , w h e r e a s no one, or but a few, t a k e an effective interest in h u m a n perfection of other men. T h i s being the case, my desire transforms itself into a r a t i o n a l desire by being " g e n e r a l i z e d , " i . e . , by being conceived as the content of a l a w w h i c h binds a l l members of society e q u a l l y ; a desire w h i c h survives 43

42. Cf. C.S., II, 6 (see chap, iii, n. 18, above). As for the connection between the C.S. and the Second Discourse, see nn. 26 and 32 above. 43. Cf. C.S., II, 4, and Second Discourse, p. 77


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t h e test of " g e n e r a l i z a t i o n " i s , by t h i s v e r y fact, proved to be r a t i o n a l and hence just. By ceasing to conceive of the l a w of reason as a l a w of nature, Rousseau could h a v e made h i s Socratic w i s d o m r a d i c a l l y independent of n a t u r a l science. Y e t he did not t a k e t h a t step. The lesson w h i c h he h a d learned from M o n t e s q u i e u counteracted in h i s t h o u g h t the doctrinaire tendencies inherent in n a t u r a l constitutional l a w ; and extreme doctrinairism w a s the outcome o f t h e a t t e m p t t o m a k e the l a w of reason r a d i c a l l y independent of the k n o w l e d g e of m a n ' s nature. 44

The conclusions r e g a r d i n g the state of nature w h i c h R o u s seau d r e w from Hobbes's premises seemed to suggest a return to the conception of man as a social a n i m a l . There w a s a further reason w h y Rousseau m i g h t h a v e returned to t h a t conception. According to Hobbes, a l l v i r t u e s and duties arise from the concern w i t h self-preservation alone and hence immedia t e l y from c a l c u l a t i o n . Rousseau, h o w e v e r , felt t h a t c a l c u l a tion or self-interest is not strong enough as the bond of society and not profound enough as the root of society. Y e t he refused to a d m i t t h a t man is by nature a social being. He t h o u g h t t h a t the root of society can be found in h u m a n passions or sentiments as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from a fundamental s o c i a l i t y of m a n . His reason can be stated as f o l l o w s : If society is n a t u r a l , it is not e s s e n t i a l l y based on the w i l l s of the i n d i v i d u a l s ; it is essent i a l l y n a t u r e , and not a m a n ' s w i l l , w h i c h m a k e s h i m a member of s o c i e t y . On the other h a n d , the p r i m a c y of the i n d i v i d 44. Rousseau agrees with the classics by explicitly agreeing with the "principle established by Montesquieu" that "liberty not being a fruit of all climates, is not within the reach of all peoples" (C.S., III, 8 ) . Acceptance of this principle explains the moderate character of most of Rousseau's proposals which were meant for immediate application. Deviating from Montesquieu and the classics, Rousseau teaches, however, that "every legitimate government is republican" (II, 6) and hence that almost all existing regimes are illegitimate:"very few nations have l a w s " (III, 15). This amounts to saying that in many cases despotic regimes are inevitable, without becoming, by this fact, legitimate: the strangling of a sultan is as lawful as all governmental actions of the sultan (Second Discourse, p. 149).

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ual in r e l a t i o n to society is preserved if the place w h i c h Hobbes h a d assigned to c a l c u l a t i o n or self-interest is assigned to passion or sentiment. Rousseau refused, then, to return to the conception of man as a social a n i m a l because he w a s concerned w i t h the r a d i c a l independence of the i n d i v i d u a l , i . e . , of every h u m a n being. He retained t h e notion of the state of nature because the state of nature g u a r a n t e e d the i n d i v i d u a l ' s r a d i c a l independence. He retained the notion of the state of nature because he w a s concerned w i t h such a n a t u r a l standard as favored in the h i g h e s t possible degree the independence of the individual. 45

R o u s s e a u could not h a v e m a i n t a i n e d the notion of the state of nature if the depreciation or e x - i n a n i t i o n of the state of nature w h i c h he u n i n t e n t i o n a l l y effected h a d not been outw e i g h e d in h i s t h o u g h t by a corresponding increase in the i m portance of independence or freedom, i . e . , of the most c h a r a c teristic feature of man in the state of nature. In Hobbes's doctrine, freedom, or the r i g h t of everyone to be the sole judge of the means conducive to h i s self-preservation, h a d been subordinate to self-preservation; in t h e case of conflict between freedom and self-preservation, self-preservation t a k e s precedence. According to Rousseau, h o w e v e r , freedom is a h i g h e r good t h a n life. In fact, he tends to identify freedom w i t h v i r tue or w i t h goodness. He s a y s t h a t freedom is obedience to the l a w w h i c h one h a s given to one's self. T h i s means, in the first place, t h a t not merely obedience t o the l a w but l e g i s l a t i o n i t self must o r i g i n a t e in the i n d i v i d u a l . It means, secondly, t h a t freedom is not so much either the condition or the consequence of v i r t u e as virtue itself. W h a t is true of virtue can also be said of goodness, w h i c h Rousseau d i s t i n g u i s h e d from v i r t u e : freedom is identical w i t h goodness; to be free, or to be one's self, is to be good—this is one m e a n i n g of h i s thesis t h a t man is by nature good. Above a l l , he suggests t h a t the t r a d i t i o n a l defini45. Hachette, I, 374; Émili, I, 286-87, 306, II, 44-45.


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tion of man be replaced by a n e w definition according to w h i c h not r a t i o n a l i t y but freedom is the specific distinction of m a n . Rousseau m a y be said to h a v e o r i g i n a t e d " t h e p h i l o s o p h y of freedom." The connection between the developed form of " t h e p h i l o s o p h y of freedom," i . e . , German i d e a l i s m , and Rousseau, and hence Hobbes, w a s realized by no one more c l e a r l y t h a n by Hegel. Hegel noted the k i n s h i p between K a n t ' s and F i c h t e ' s i d e a l i s m and " t h e a n t i - s o c i a l i s t i c systems of n a t u r a l r i g h t , " i . e . , those n a t u r a l r i g h t doctrines w h i c h deny m a n ' s n a t u r a l s o c i a l i t y and " p o s i t the being of the i n d i v i d u a l as the first and h i g h e s t t h i n g . " 46

4 7

" T h e a n t i - s o c i a l i s t i c systems of n a t u r a l r i g h t " h a d emerged by virtue of a transformation of Epicureanism. According to the Epicurean doctrine, the i n d i v i d u a l is by nature free from a l l social bonds because the n a t u r a l good is identical w i t h the p l e a s a n t , i . e . , fundamentally w i t h w h a t i s pleasant t o the body. But, according to the same doctrine, the i n d i v i d u a l is by nature kept w i t h i n definite bounds because there is a n a t u r a l l i m i t to pleasure, n a m e l y , the greatest or h i g h e s t p l e a s u r e : endless s t r i v i n g is a g a i n s t nature. Hobbes's transformation of Epicureanism i m p l i e d the liberation of the i n d i v i d u a l not o n l y from a l l social bonds w h i c h do not o r i g i n a t e in h i s w i l l but also from a n y n a t u r a l end. Rejecting the notion of a n a t u r a l end of a m a n , he no longer understood by the " g o o d l i f e " of the i n d i v i d u a l h i s compliance w i t h , or a s s i m i l a t i o n t o , a u n i versal pattern w h i c h is apprehended before it is w i l l e d . He 46. Second Discourse, pp. 93 (cf. Spinoza, Ethics, III, 9 schol.), 116, 130, 138, 140-41, 151; C.S., 1,1 (beginning), 4, 8, 11 (beginning); III, 9 n. (end). Cf. the headings of the first two parts of Hobbes's De cive; also Locke, Treatises, II, sees. 4, 23, 95, 123. 47. "Wissenschaftliche Behandlungsarten des Naturrechts," Schriften zur Politik und Rechtsphilosophie, ed. Lasson, pp. 346-47: "In einer niedrigem Abstraktion ist die Unendlichkeit zwar auch als Absolutheit des Subjekts in der Glückseligkeitslehre überhaupt, und im Naturrecht insbesondere von den Systemen, welche anti-sozialistisch heissen und das Sein des einzelnen als das Erste und Höchste setzen, herausgehoben, aber nicht in die reine Abstraktion, welche sie in dem Kantischen oder Fichteschen Idealismus erhalten hat." Cf. Hegel's Encyclopädie, sees. 481-82.

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conceived of t h e good life in terms of m a n ' s beginnings or of m a n ' s n a t u r a l r i g h t as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from h i s d u t y or perfection or v i r t u e . N a t u r a l r i g h t , as he understood i t , canalizes r a t h e r t h a n l i m i t s infinite desire: t h a t infinite desire for p o w e r after p o w e r w h i c h o r i g i n a t e s in t h e concern w i t h self-preservation becomes identical w i t h the l e g i t i m a t e pursuit of h a p p i ness. N a t u r a l r i g h t thus understood leads o n l y to conditional duties and to mercenary v i r t u e . Rousseau w a s satisfied t h a t happiness as Hobbes understood it is i n d i s t i n g u i s h a b l e from constant m i s e r y and t h a t Hobbes's and L o c k e ' s " u t i l i t a r i a n " understanding of m o r a l i t y is i n a d e q u a t e : m o r a l i t y must have a more solid support t h a n c a l c u l a t i o n . In t r y i n g to restore an adequate understanding of happiness and of m o r a l i t y , he h a d recourse to a considerably modified version of t r a d i t i o n a l natu r a l t h e o l o g y , but he felt t h a t even t h a t version of n a t u r a l t h e o l o g y w a s exposed t o " i n s o l u b l e o b j e c t i o n s . " T o the e x tent to w h i c h he w a s impressed by the p o w e r of these objections, he w a s compelled to a t t e m p t to understand h u m a n life by starting from the Hobbesian notion of the p r i m a c y of r i g h t or of freedom as distinguished from the p r i m a c y of perfection or virtue or d u t y . He attempted to graft the notion of uncondit i o n a l duties and of nonmercenary virtue onto the Hobbesian notion of the p r i m a c y of freedom or of r i g h t s . He a d m i t t e d , as it w e r e , t h a t duties must be conceived of as derivative from r i g h t s or t h a t there is no n a t u r a l l a w , properly s p e a k i n g , w h i c h antedates the human w i l l . Yet h e sensed t h a t the basic r i g h t in question cannot be the r i g h t of self-preservation, i . e . , a r i g h t w h i c h leads o n l y to conditional duties and w h i c h is i t self d e r i v a t i v e from an impulse t h a t man shares w i t h t h e brutes. If m o r a l i t y or h u m a n i t y w e r e to be understood adeq u a t e l y , t h e y h a d to be traced to a r i g h t or a freedom w h i c h is r a d i c a l l y and specifically h u m a n . Hobbes h a d i m p l i c i t l y ad48

49

48. Second Discourse, pp. 104-5, 122, 126, 147, 160-63; cf. also Émile, I, 286-87. 49. Cf. n. 28 above.


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m i t t e d the existence of such a freedom. For he h a d i m p l i c i t l y a d m i t t e d t h a t if the t r a d i t i o n a l d u a l i s m of substances, of mind and of body, is abandoned, science cannot be possible except if m e a n i n g , order, or t r u t h o r i g i n a t e s s o l e l y in m a n ' s creative action, or if m a n h a s the freedom of a c r e a t o r . Hobbes w a s , in fact, compelled to replace the t r a d i t i o n a l dualism of body and mind, not by m a t e r i a l i s t i c monism, but by the novel d u a l ism of nature ( o r substance) and freedom. W h a t Hobbes h a d , in fact, suggested in regard to science w a s applied by Rousseau to m o r a l i t y . He tended to conceive of the fundamental freedom, or of t h e fundamental r i g h t , as such a creative act as issues in the establishment of unconditional duties and in n o t h i n g e l s e : freedom is e s s e n t i a l l y self-legislation. The u l t i m a t e outcome of t h i s attempt w a s the substitution of freedom for v i r t u e or t h e v i e w t h a t it is not v i r t u e w h i c h m a k e s m a n free but freedom w h i c h m a k e s man v i r t u o u s . 60

It is true t h a t Rousseau distinguishes true freedom or moral freedom, w h i c h consists in obedience to the l a w t h a t one h a s g i v e n to one's self and w h i c h presupposes c i v i l society, not o n l y from c i v i l freedom but, above a l l , from the n a t u r a l freedom w h i c h belongs to the state of n a t u r e , i . e . , to a state characterized by t h e rule of blind appetite and hence by s l a v e r y in the moral sense of the term. But it is also true t h a t he blurs these d i s t i n c t i o n s . For he also s a y s t h a t in c i v i l society everyone " o b e y s o n l y himself and remains as free as he w a s before," i . e . , as he w a s in the state of n a t u r e . T h i s means t h a t n a t u r a l freedom r e m a i n s t h e model for c i v i l freedom, just as n a t u r a l e q u a l i t y r e m a i n s the model for c i v i l e q u a l i t y . C i v i l freedom, in i t s turn, being in a w a y obedience to one's self alone, certainly comes v e r y close to moral freedom. The blurring of the d i s tinctions between n a t u r a l freedom, c i v i l freedom, and m o r a l 51

50. See pp. 172-74 above. 51. C.S., I, 6, 8; Second Discourse, p. 65. As for the ambiguity of "freedom," cf. also Second Discourse, pp. 138-41.

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freedom is no accidental error: t h e novel understanding of moral freedom o r i g i n a t e d in the notion t h a t the p r i m a r y m o r a l phenomenon is the freedom of the state of nature. At a n y r a t e , the enhancement of the status of " f r e e d o m " g i v e s the almost exploded notion of the state of nature a n e w lease on life in Rousseau's doctrine. In Hobbes's and L o c k e ' s doctrines, the state of nature h a d been, as one m i g h t s a y , a n e g a t i v e s t a n d a r d : the state of nature is characterized by such a self-contradiction as points to one and o n l y one sufficient solution, w h i c h is " t h e m i g h t y l e v i a t h a n " w h o s e " b l o o d i s m o n e y . " R o u s s e a u , however, t h o u g h t t h a t c i v i l society as such, to s a y n o t h i n g of c i v i l society as Hobbes and Locke h a d conceived of i t , is characterized by a fundamental self-contradiction and t h a t it is precisely the state of nature w h i c h is free from self-contradiction; man in the state of nature is h a p p y because he is r a d i c a l l y independent, w h e r e a s man in c i v i l society is u n h a p p y because he is r a d i c a l l y dependent. C i v i l society must therefore be transcended in the direction not of m a n ' s h i g h e s t end but of his beginning, of h i s earliest past. Thus the state of n a t u r e tended to become for Rousseau a positive standard. Yet he a d m i t t e d t h a t accidental necessity h a d forced man to l e a v e t h e state of nature and h a s transformed h i m in such a manner as to incapacitate h i m forever for a return to t h a t blessed state. Hence Rousseau's answer to the question of the good life t a k e s on t h i s form: the good life consists in the closest a p p r o x i m a t i o n to the state of nature w h i c h is possible on the level of h u m a n i t y . On the p o l i t i c a l plane that closest approximation is achieved by a society w h i c h is constructed in conformity w i t h the requirements of the social contract. L i k e Hobbes and L o c k e , Rousseau starts from the premise t h a t in the state of nature a l l men are free and equal and t h a t the fundamental desire is the 52

52. Second Discourse, pp. 65, 104-5, 117-18, 122, 125-26, 147, 151, 160-63, 177-79; Julie, p. "385; C.S., II, 11; III, 15; Emile, II, 125.


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desire for self-preservation. D e v i a t i n g from h i s predecessors, he contends t h a t at the beginning, or in the o r i g i n a l state of nature, the promptings of the desire for self-preservation w e r e tempered by compassion and t h a t the o r i g i n a l state of nature w a s considerably changed t h r o u g h accidental necessity, prior to m a n ' s entering c i v i l society; c i v i l society becomes necessary or possible o n l y in a very l a t e stage of the state of nature. The decisive c h a n g e w h i c h took place w i t h i n the state of nature consisted in t h e w e a k e n i n g of compassion. Compassion w a s w e a k e n e d because of the emergence of v a n i t y or pride and u l t i m a t e l y because of the emergence of i n e q u a l i t y and therefore of the dependence of man on h i s fellows. As a consequence of t h i s development, self-preservation became increasingly difficult. Once the c r i t i c a l point is reached, self-preservation demands the introduction of an artificial substitute for n a t u r a l compassion, or of a conventional substitute for t h a t n a t u r a l freedom and t h a t n a t u r a l e q u a l i t y w h i c h existed at the beginning. It is the self-preservation of everyone w h i c h requires t h a t the closest possible a p p r o x i m a t i o n to o r i g i n a l freedom and e q u a l i t y be achieved w i t h i n s o c i e t y . 53

The root of c i v i l society must then be sought e x c l u s i v e l y in the desire for self-preservation or in the r i g h t of self-preservation. The r i g h t to self-preservation i m p l i e s the r i g h t to the means required for self-preservation. A c c o r d i n g l y , there e x i s t s a n a t u r a l r i g h t to appropriation. Everyone h a s by nature t h e r i g h t to appropriate to himself w h a t he needs of the fruits of the e a r t h . Everyone m a y acquire t h r o u g h h i s labor, and o n l y t h r o u g h his l a b o r , an exclusive r i g h t to the produce of the land w h i c h h e h a s c u l t i v a t e d , and t h e r e w i t h a n exclusive r i g h t to the l a n d itself, at least until the next harvest. Continuous c u l t i v a t i o n m a y even l e g i t i m a t e continuous possession of t h e l a n d c u l t i v a t e d , but it does not create property r i g h t in t h a t 53. Second Discourse, pp. 65, 75, 77, 81, 109-10, 115, 118, 120, 125, 129, 130, 134; C.S., I, 6 (beginning); I, 2.

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l a n d ; property r i g h t is the creation of positive l a w ; prior to the sanction by positive l a w , l a n d is usurped, i . e . , acquired by force, and not t r u l y o w n e d . O t h e r w i s e , n a t u r a l r i g h t w o u l d h a l l o w the r i g h t of the first occupier to the detriment of the r i g h t of self-preservation of those w h o , perhaps t h r o u g h no fault of their o w n , failed to t a k e possession of l a n d ; the poor r e t a i n the n a t u r a l r i g h t to acquire as free men w h a t t h e y need for self-preservation. If t h e y are unable to appropriate w h a t t h e y need by c u l t i v a t i n g a plot of t h e i r o w n because everyt h i n g h a s a l r e a d y been appropriated b y others, t h e y m a y use force. Thus a conflict arises between the r i g h t of the first occupiers and the r i g h t of those w h o must r e l y on force. The need for appropriation of the necessities of life transforms the latest stage of the state of nature into the most horrible state of w a r . Once t h i s point h a s been reached, it is to the interest of everyone, of the poor as w e l l as of the r i c h , t h a t r i g h t should succeed to violence, i . e . , t h a t peace be guaranteed t h r o u g h convention or compact. T h i s amounts to s a y i n g t h a t " a c c o r d i n g to the m a x i m of the w i s e L o c k e , there could not be injustice w h e r e there is no p r o p e r t y " or t h a t in the state of nature everyone h a s " a n u n l i m i t e d r i g h t t o e v e r y t h i n g w h i c h tempts h i m and w h i c h h e can g e t . " The compact w h i c h i s a t the basis of factual societies transformed men's factual possessions as t h e y existed at t h e end of the state of nature into genuine property. It therefore sanctioned earlier usurpation. Factual society rests on a fraud perpetrated by the rich a g a i n s t the poor: p o l i t i c a l power rests on " e c o n o m i c " power. No i m provement can ever cure t h i s o r i g i n a l defect of c i v i l society; it i s i n e v i t a b l e t h a t the l a w should favor the h a v e s a g a i n s t t h e have-nots. Y e t , in spite of t h i s , the self-preservation of everyone requires t h a t the social contract be concluded and k e p t . The social contract w o u l d endanger the i n d i v i d u a l ' s selfpreservation if it did not a l l o w h i m to r e m a i n the judge of the 54

54. Second Discourse, pp. 82, 106, 117, 118, 125, 128-29, 131-35, 141, 145, 152; C.S., I, 2, 8, 9; II, 4 (toward the end); imile, I, 309; II, 300.


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means required for h i s self-preservation or to remain as free as he w a s before. On the other h a n d , it is of the essence of c i v i l society t h a t p r i v a t e judgment be replaced by public judgment. These conflicting demands are reconciled, as far as t h e y can be reconciled, if those public judgments w h i c h issue in executive action conform s t r i c t l y w i t h l a w , if those public judgments w h i c h are l a w s are the w o r k of the citizen body, and if every adult m a l e w h o is subject to the l a w s can h a v e influenced their content t h r o u g h h i s vote. V o t i n g on a l a w means to conceive of the object of one's p r i v a t e or n a t u r a l w i l l as the object of a l a w w h i c h is binding on a l l e q u a l l y and benefits a l l e q u a l l y , or to restrict o n e ' s selfish desire by considering the undesirable consequences w h i c h w o u l d follow if everyone else i n d u l g e d h i s selfish desire as w e l l . L e g i s l a t i o n by the all-inclusive c i t i zen body is therefore t h e conventional substitute for n a t u r a l compassion. The citizen is indeed less free t h a n man ifl the state of n a t u r e , since he cannot follow h i s unqualified p r i v a t e judgment, but he is freer t h a n man in the state of nature, since he is h a b i t u a l l y protected by h i s f e l l o w s . The citizen is as free as man in the ( o r i g i n a l ) state of nature, since, being subject o n l y to the l a w or to the public w i l l or to the general w i l l , he is not subject to the private w i l l of a n y other man. But if every k i n d of personal dependence or of " p r i v a t e g o v e r n m e n t " is to be avoided, everyone and e v e r y t h i n g must be subject to the general w i l l ; the social contract requires " t h e t o t a l a l i e n a t i o n of each associate, w i t h a l l h i s r i g h t s , to the w h o l e commun i t y " or the transformation of " e v e r y i n d i v i d u a l w h o by h i m self is a perfect and s o l i t a r y w h o l e into a part of a greater w h o l e from w h i c h , in a sense, t h a t i n d i v i d u a l receives h i s life and h i s b e i n g . " In order to remain as free in society as he w a s before, man must become completely " c o l l e c t i v i z e d " or " d e naturalized." 55

5 5 . C.S., I, 6, 7; II, 2-4, 7; Emili, I, 1 3 . The discussion of the social contract in the Second Discourse is admittedly provisional (p. 141).

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Freedom in society is possible o n l y by virtue of the complete surrender of everyone ( a n d in p a r t i c u l a r of the g o v e r n m e n t ) to the w i l l of a free society. By surrendering a l l h i s r i g h t s to soc i e t y , man loses the r i g h t to appeal from the verdicts of soc i e t y , i . e . , from t h e positive l a w , t o n a t u r a l r i g h t : a l l r i g h t s become social r i g h t s . Free society rests and depends upon the absorption o f n a t u r a l r i g h t b y positive l a w . N a t u r a l r i g h t i s l e g i t i m a t e l y absorbed by the positive l a w of a society w h i c h is constructed i n accordance w i t h n a t u r a l r i g h t . The general w i l l t a k e s the place o f the n a t u r a l l a w . " B y the very fact t h a t h e i s , the sovereign i s a l w a y s w h a t h e o u g h t t o b e . " 5 6

Rousseau sometimes c a l l e d the free society as he conceived of it a " d e m o c r a c y . ' ' Democracy is closer to the e q u a l i t y of the state of nature t h a n is a n y other r e g i m e . Y e t democracy must be " w i s e l y t e m p e r e d . " W h i l e everyone must h a v e a vote, t h e votes must be " a r r a n g e d " in such a manner as to favor the middle class and the rural p o p u l a t i o n as a g a i n s t la canaille of the big t o w n s . O t h e r w i s e , those w h o h a v e nothing to lose m i g h t sell freedom for b r e a d . 57

The absorption of n a t u r a l r i g h t by the positive l a w of a properly qualified democracy w o u l d be defensible if there w e r e a g u a r a n t y t h a t the general w i l l — a n d t h i s means, for a l l pract i c a l purposes, the w i l l of the l e g a l m a j o r i t y — c o u l d not err. The general w i l l or the w i l l of the people never errs in so far as it a l w a y s w i l l s the good of the people, but the people do not a l w a y s see the good of the people. The general w i l l is therefore in need of enlightenment. Enlightened i n d i v i d u a l s m a y see the good of society, but there is no g u a r a n t y t h a t t h e y w i l l espouse it if it conflicts w i t h their p r i v a t e good. C a l c u l a t i o n 56. C.S., I, 7; II, 3, 6. Cf. ibid., II, 12 ("Division of L a w s " ) with the parallels in Hobbes, Locke, and Montesquieu, to say nothing of Hooker and Suarez; Rousseau does not even mention natural law. 57. Second Discourse, pp. 66, 143; Julie, pp. 470-71; C.S., IV, 4; Montagne, pp. 252, 300-301. Cf. Rousseau's criticism of the aristocratic principle of the classics in Narcisse, pp. 50-51, and in the Second Discourse, pp. 179-80.


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and self-interest are not strong enough as social bonds. Both the people as a w h o l e and the i n d i v i d u a l s are then e q u a l l y in need of a g u i d e ; the people must be t a u g h t to k n o w w h a t it w i l l s , and the i n d i v i d u a l , w h o as a n a t u r a l being is concerned e x c l u s i v e l y w i t h h i s private good, must be transformed into a citizen w h o u n h e s i t a t i n g l y prefers the common good to h i s p r i v a t e good. The solution of t h i s twofold problem is supplied by the l e g i s l a t o r , or the father of a nation, i . e . , by a man of superior i n t e l l i g e n c e , w h o , by ascribing divine o r i g i n to a code w h i c h h e h a s devised o r b y honoring the gods w i t h h i s o w n w i s d o m , both convinces the people of the goodness of the l a w s w h i c h he submits to its vote and transforms the i n d i v i d u a l from a n a t u r a l being into a citizen. Only by the action of the l e g i s l a t o r can the conventional acquire, if not the s t a t u s , at least the force, of the n a t u r a l . It goes w i t h o u t s a y i n g t h a t the arguments by w h i c h the l e g i s l a t o r convinces the citizens of h i s divine mission or of the divine sanction for h i s code are necessarily of doubtful s o l i d i t y . One m i g h t t h i n k t h a t , once the code w e r e ratified, a " s o c i a l s p i r i t " developed, and the w i s e l e g i s l a t i o n accepted on account of its proved w i s d o m rather t h a n i t s pretended o r i g i n , the belief in the superhuman o r i g i n of the code w o u l d no longer be required. But t h i s suggestion o v e r l o o k s the fact t h a t the l i v i n g respect for old l a w s , " t h e prejudice of a n t i q u i t y " w h i c h is indispensable for the h e a l t h of society, can o n l y w i t h difficulty survive the public questioning of the accounts r e g a r d i n g their o r i g i n . In other w o r d s , the transformation of n a t u r a l man into a citizen is a problem coeval w i t h society itself, and therefore society h a s a continuous need for at least an e q u i v a l e n t to the mysterious and a w e - i n s p i r i n g action of the l e g i s l a t o r . For society can be h e a l t h y o n l y if the opinions and sentiments engendered by society overcome and, as it w e r e , a n n i h i l a t e the n a t u r a l sentiments. T h a t is to s a y , society must do e v e r y t h i n g possible to render the citizens o b l i v i o u s of the v e r y facts t h a t p o l i t i c a l

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p h i l o s o p h y brings to the center of t h e i r attention as the foundations of society. Free society stands or falls by a specific obfuscation a g a i n s t w h i c h p h i l o s o p h y necessarily r e v o l t s . The problem posed by p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y must be forgotten if the solution t o w h i c h p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y leads i s t o w o r k . 5 8

It is true, no doubt, t h a t R o u s s e a u ' s doctrine of the l e g i s l a tor is meant to clarify the fundamental problem of c i v i l society r a t h e r t h a n to suggest a practical s o l u t i o n , except in so far as t h a t doctrine adumbrates R o u s s e a u ' s o w n function. The precise reason w h y he h a d to abandon the c l a s s i c a l notion of the l e g i s l a t o r w a s t h a t t h a t notion is l i a b l e to obscure the sove r e i g n t y of the people, i . e . , to l e a d , for a l l practical purposes, to the substitution of the supremacy of the l a w for the full sovereignty of t h e people. The c l a s s i c a l notion of the l e g i s l a t o r is irreconcilable w i t h R o u s s e a u ' s notion of freedom w h i c h leads to the demand for periodic appeals from the w h o l e established order to the sovereign w i l l of t h e people or from the w i l l of past generations to the w i l l of the l i v i n g generation. R o u s seau, therefore, h a d to find a substitute for the action of the l e g i s l a t o r . According to h i s final s u g g e s t i o n , the function o r i g i n a l l y intrusted to the l e g i s l a t o r must be discharged by a c i v i l r e l i g i o n described from s o m e w h a t different points of v i e w in the Social Contract, on the one hand, and the Emile, on the other. Only the c i v i l r e l i g i o n w i l l engender the sentiments required of the citizen. We need not go into the question of w h e t h e r Rousseau himself fully subscribed to the r e l i g i o n w h i c h he presented in the profession of faith of the S a v o y a r d v i c a r , a question t h a t cannot be answered by reference to w h a t he said w h e n he w a s persecuted on account of t h a t profession. W h a t is decisive is the fact t h a t , according to h i s e x p l i c i t v i e w s about the relation of k n o w l e d g e , f a i t h , and the people, 58. Narcissi, p. 56; Second Discourse, pp. 66-67, 143; C.S., II, 3, 6-7; III, 2, 11. Compare the reference to miracles in the chapter on the legislator (C.S., II, 7) with the explicit discussion of the problem of miracles in Montagne, i i - i i i .


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the people cannot h a v e more t h a n opinion r e g a r d i n g the t r u t h of t h i s or a n y other r e l i g i o n . One m a y even wonder w h e t h e r a n y h u m a n being can h a v e a n y genuine k n o w l e d g e in t h i s respect, since t h e r e l i g i o n preached by the S a v o y a r d v i c a r is e x posed to " i n s o l u b l e o b j e c t i o n s . " Therefore, every c i v i l rel i g i o n w o u l d seem, in the last a n a l y s i s , to h a v e the same character as t h e l e g i s l a t o r ' s account of the origin of h i s code, at least in so far as both are e s s e n t i a l l y endangered by the " d a n gerous p y r r h o n i s m " fostered by science; the " i n s o l u b l e object i o n s " to w h i c h even the best of a l l r e l i g i o n s is exposed are dangerous t r u t h s . Precisely a free society cannot exist if he w h o doubts t h e fundamental dogma of the c i v i l r e l i g i o n does not o u t w a r d l y conform. 59

Apart from t h e c i v i l r e l i g i o n , the equivalent to the action of the e a r l y l e g i s l a t o r is custom. Custom, too, socializes the w i l l s of the i n d i v i d u a l s independently of t h e generalization of the w i l l s w h i c h t a k e s place in the act of l e g i s l a t i o n . L a w is even preceded by custom. For c i v i l society is preceded by the nation or the tribe, i . e . , a group w h i c h is kept together by customs arising from t h e fact t h a t a l l members of the group are e x posed t o , and molded by, the same n a t u r a l influences. The prep o l i t i c a l n a t i o n is more n a t u r a l t h a n c i v i l society, since natur a l causes are more effective in i t s production t h a n in the genesis of c i v i l society, w h i c h is produced by contract. The nation is closer to the o r i g i n a l state of nature t h a n is c i v i l society, and therefore it is in important respects superior to c i v i l society. C i v i l society w i l l approximate the state of nature on the level of h u m a n i t y to a h i g h e r degree, or it w i l l be more h e a l t h y , if it rests on the almost n a t u r a l basis of n a t i o n a l i t y or if it h a s a n a t i o n a l i n d i v i d u a l i t y . N a t i o n a l custom or n a t i o n a l cohesion is a deeper root of c i v i l society than are c a l c u l a t i o n and self-interest and hence t h a n the social contract. N a t i o n a l 59. Julie, pp. 502-6; C.S., IV, 8; Beaumont, p. 479; Montagne, pp. 121-36,180; cf. also n. 28 above.

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custom and n a t i o n a l " p h i l o s o p h y " are the m a t r i x of the general w i l l , just as feeling is the m a t r i x of reason. Hence the past, and e s p e c i a l l y the e a r l y past, of one's o w n nation tends to become of h i g h e r d i g n i t y t h a n a n y cosmopolitan aspirations. If m a n ' s h u m a n i t y i s acquired b y accidental causation, t h a t hum a n i t y w i l l be r a d i c a l l y different from nation to nation and from a g e to a g e . 6 0

It is not surprising t h a t Rousseau did not regard the free society as he conceived of it as the solution to the h u m a n problem. Even if t h a t society met t h e requirements of freedom more n e a r l y t h a n did a n y other society, w h a t w o u l d follow w o u l d s i m p l y be t h a t true freedom must be sought beyond c i v i l soc i e t y . If c i v i l society and d u t y are coextensive, as Rousseau suggests, human freedom must be sought even beyond d u t y or v i r t u e . W i t h a v i e w to the connection between virtue and c i v i l society, as w e l l as to the problematic character of the relation between virtue and happiness, Rousseau made a distinction between v i r t u e and goodness. V i r t u e presupposes effort and h a b i t u a t i o n ; it is p r i m a r i l y a burden, and its demands are harsh. Goodness, i . e . , the desire to do good or at least the complete absence of a desire to do h a r m , is s i m p l y n a t u r a l ; the pleasures of goodness come i m m e d i a t e l y from n a t u r e ; goodness is i m m e d i a t e l y connected w i t h the n a t u r a l sentiment of compassion; it belongs to the h e a r t r a t h e r than to conscience or reason. Rousseau t a u g h t , indeed, t h a t v i r t u e is superior to goodness. Yet the a m b i g u i t y of h i s notion of freedom, or, in other w o r d s , h i s l o n g i n g for the happiness of prepolitical life, m a k e s t h a t t e a c h i n g questionable from h i s o w n point of view. 6 1

60. Narcissi, p. 56; Second Discourse, pp. 66-67, 74, 123, 125, 150, 169-70; C.S., II, 8, 10,12; III, \;Emile, II, 287-88; Pologne, chaps, i i - i i i ; cf. also Alfred Cobban, Rousseau and the Modern State (London, 1934), p. 284. 61. Cf. especially C.S., I, 8, and II, 11; Second Discourse, pp. 125-26, 150; Julie, pp. 222, 274, 277; Emile, II, 48, 274-75; Confessions, II, 182, 259, 303; III, 43; Rheries, vi.


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From t h i s we can understand Rousseau's a t t i t u d e t o w a r d the f a m i l y or, more precisely, t o w a r d conjugal and paternal love as w e l l as t o w a r d heterosexual love s i m p l y . Love is closer to the o r i g i n a l state of nature t h a n is c i v i l society, d u t y , or v i r tue. Love is s i m p l y incompatible w i t h compulsion and even self-compulsion; it is free or it is not. It is for t h i s reason t h a t conjugal and p a t e r n a l love can be " t h e sweetest s e n t i m e n t s , " or even " t h e sweetest sentiments of n a t u r e , " " w h i c h are k n o w n to m a n " and t h a t heterosexual love s i m p l y can be " t h e sweetest of p a s s i o n s " or " t h e most delicious sentiment w h i c h can enter the h u m a n h e a r t . " These sentiments g i v e rise to " r i g h t s of the b l o o d " and " r i g h t s of l o v e " ; t h e y create bonds w h i c h are more sacred t h a n a n y man-made bonds. T h r o u g h l o v e , man achieves a closer a p p r o x i m a t i o n to the state of nature on the level of h u m a n i t y t h a n he does t h r o u g h a life of citizenship or v i r t u e . Rousseau returns from the classical c i t y to the f a m i l y a n d the l o v i n g couple. Using h i s o w n l a n g u a g e , we m a y s a y t h a t he returns from the concern of the citizen to the noblest concern of the b o u r g e o i s . 62

Y e t , at l e a s t according to t h a t w r i t i n g of Rousseau in w h i c h he revealed h i s principles " w i t h the greatest boldness, not to s a y a u d a c i t y , ' ' there is an element of the conventional or of the factitious even in l o v e . Love being a social phenomenon and man being by nature asocial, it becomes necessary to consider w h e t h e r the s o l i t a r y i n d i v i d u a l is not capable of the closest a p p r o x i m a t i o n to the state of nature w h i c h is possible on the level of h u m a n i t y . Rousseau h a s spoken in g l o w i n g terms of the charms and raptures of s o l i t a r y contemplation. By " s o l i t a r y c o n t e m p l a t i o n " he does not understand p h i l o s o p h y or the c u l m i n a t i o n of p h i l o s o p h y . S o l i t a r y contemplation, as he understands i t , is a l t o g e t h e r different from, not to s a y hostile t o , 63

62. Second Discourse, pp. 122, 124; D'Alembert, pp. 256-57; Julie, pp. 261, 331, 392, 411 (cf. also pp. 76, 147-48, 152, 174 n., 193, 273-75); Reveries, x (p. 164). 63. Second Discourse, pp. I l l , 139.

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t h i n k i n g or observation. It consists of, or it leads up t o , " t h e feeling of e x i s t e n c e , " i . e . , the p l e a s a n t feeling of one's o w n existence. If man h a s w i t h d r a w n from e v e r y t h i n g outside h i m self, if he h a s emptied himself of every affection other t h a n the feeling of existence, he enjoys the supreme f e l i c i t y — g o d l i k e self-sufficiency and i m p a s s i b i l i t y ; he finds consolation o n l y in himself by being fully himself and by belonging fully to h i m self, since the past and the future are e x t i n g u i s h e d for h i m . It is in g i v i n g himself completely to t h i s feeling t h a t civilized man completes the return to the p r i m i t i v e state of nature on the level of h u m a n i t y . For, w h e r e a s sociable man derives the feeling of h i s existence, as it w e r e , e x c l u s i v e l y from the opinions of h i s f e l l o w s , n a t u r a l man—indeed even the s a v a g e — feels h i s existence n a t u r a l l y ; he g i v e s himself " t o the sole feeli n g of h i s present existence w i t h o u t a n y idea of the future." The feeling of existence is " m a n ' s first f e e l i n g . " It is more fundamental than the desire for self-preservation; m a n is concerned w i t h the preservation of h i s existence because existence itself, mere existence, is by nature p l e a s a n t . 64

The feeling of existence as Rousseau experienced and described it h a s a r i c h a r t i c u l a t i o n w h i c h must have been l a c k i n g in the feeling of existence as it w a s experienced by man in the e s t a t e of nature. Here at l a s t c i v i l i z e d m a n or those c i v i l i z e d men w h o h a v e returned from c i v i l society to solitude reach a degree of happiness of w h i c h the stupid a n i m a l must have been u t t e r l y incapable. In the l a s t a n a l y s i s it is o n l y t h i s superiority of civilized m a n , or of the best among c i v i l i z e d men, w h i c h permits Rousseau t o contend w i t h o u t h e s i t a t i o n t h a t , w h i l e t h e emergence of c i v i l society w a s b a d for t h e h u m a n species or for the common good, it w a s good for the i n d i v i d u a l . The u l t i m a t e justification of c i v i l society i s , t h e n , the fact t h a t it a l l o w s a certain t y p e of i n d i v i d u a l to enjoy the supreme felici t y b y w i t h d r a w i n g from c i v i l society, i . e . , b y l i v i n g a t its 66

64. Ibid., pp. 96,118,151,165; Emile, 1,286; Reveries, V and VII. Sec above, pp. 2 6 1 62. 65. Second Discourse, pp. 84, 116, 125-26; Beaumont, p. 471.


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fringes. W h e r e a s in the earliest of h i s important w r i t i n g s the citizen of Geneva h a d said t h a t " e v e r y useless citizen m a y be regarded as a pernicious m a n , " he s a y s in h i s l a s t w r i t i n g t h a t h e himself a l w a y s w a s indeed a useless citizen, y e t t h a t h i s contemporaries h a v e done w r o n g in proscribing h i m from soc i e t y as a pernicious member, instead of merely removing h i m from society as a useless member. The t y p e of man fores h a d o w e d by R o u s s e a u , w h i c h justifies c i v i l society by transcending i t , is no longer the philosopher but w h a t l a t e r came to be c a l l e d t h e " a r t i s t . " His c l a i m to p r i v i l e g e d treatment is based on h i s s e n s i t i v i t y r a t h e r than on h i s w i s d o m , on h i s goodness or compassion rather t h a n on h i s virtue. He a d m i t s the precarious character of h i s c l a i m : he is a citizen w i t h a bad conscience. Y e t , since h i s conscience accuses not merely h i m self but at the same t i m e t h e society to w h i c h he belongs, he is inclined to r e g a r d himself as the conscience of society. But he is bound to h a v e a bad conscience for being the bad conscience of society. 66

One must contrast the d r e a m l i k e character of R o u s s e a u ' s s o l i t a r y contemplation w i t h t h e wakefulness of philosophic contemplation. In a d d i t i o n , one must t a k e into consideration the insoluble conflict between the presuppositions of h i s solit a r y contemplation and h i s n a t u r a l t h e o l o g y ( a n d t h e r e w i t h the m o r a l i t y based on t h a t t h e o l o g y ) . Then one realizes t h a t the c l a i m w h i c h he raises on behalf of the i n d i v i d u a l , or of some rare i n d i v i d u a l s , over a g a i n s t society l a c k s c l a r i t y and definiteness. M o r e precisely, the definiteness of the act of c l a i m i n g contrasts s h a r p l y w i t h the indefiniteness of the content of the c l a i m . T h i s is not surprising. The notion t h a t the < good life consists in the return on the level of h u m a n i t y to the state of nature, i . e . , to a state w h i c h completely l a c k s a l l human t r a i t s , necessarily leads to t h e consequence t h a t the indiv i d u a l c l a i m s such an u l t i m a t e freedom from society as l a c k s a n y definite h u m a n content. But t h i s fundamental defect of the 66. First Discourse, p. 131; Wvtries, VI (end).

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state of nature as the g o a l of h u m a n aspiration w a s in R o u s seau's eyes i t s perfect justification: the very indefiniteness of the state of nature as a g o a l of h u m a n aspiration made t h a t state the i d e a l vehicle of freedom. To h a v e a reservation a g a i n s t society in the n a m e of the state of nature means to h a v e a reservation a g a i n s t society w i t h o u t being either compelled or able to indicate the w a y of life or the cause or the pursuit for the s a k e of w h i c h t h a t reservation is made. The notion of a return to the state of nature on t h e l e v e l of h u m a n i t y w a s the ideal basis for c l a i m i n g a freedom from society w h i c h is not a freedom for something. It w a s the i d e a l basis for an appeal from society to something indefinite and undefinable, to an u l t i m a t e s a n c t i t y of the i n d i v i d u a l as i n d i v i d u a l , unredeemed and unjustified. T h i s w a s precisely w h a t freedom came to mean for a considerable number of men. Every freedom w h i c h is freedom for something, every freedom w h i c h is justified by reference to something h i g h e r t h a n the i n d i v i d u a l or t h a n m a n as mere man, necessarily restricts freedom or, w h i c h is the same t h i n g , establishes a tenable distinction between freedom and license. It m a k e s freedom c o n d i t i o n a l on the purpose for w h i c h it is c l a i m e d . Rousseau is distinguished from m a n y of h i s followers by the fact t h a t he s t i l l s a w c l e a r l y the disproportion between t h i s undefined and undefinable freedom and the requirements of c i v i l society. As he confessed at the end of h i s career, no book attracted and profited h i m as much as the w r i t i n g s of P l u t a r c h . The s o l i t a r y dreamer s t i l l b o w e d to P l u t a r c h ' s heroes. 67

B.

BURKE

The difficulties into w h i c h Rousseau w a s led by accepting and t h i n k i n g t h r o u g h the modern n a t u r a l r i g h t t e a c h i n g m i g h t h a v e suggested a return to the premodern conception of n a t u r a l r i g h t . Such a return w a s attempted, at the last m i n u t e , 67. Reveries, IV (beginning).


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as it w e r e , by Edmund Burke. Burke sided w i t h Cicero and w i t h Suarez a g a i n s t Hobbes and a g a i n s t Rousseau. " W e cont i n u e , as in t h e l a s t t w o a g e s , to r e a d , more g e n e r a l l y than I believe is n o w done on the Continent, the authors of sound a n t i q u i t y . These occupy our m i n d s . " Burke sided w i t h " t h e authors of sound a n t i q u i t y " a g a i n s t " t h e Parisian p h i l o s o p h e r s " and e s p e c i a l l y a g a i n s t Rousseau, the originators of a " n e w m o r a l i t y " o r " t h e bold experimenters i n m o r a l i t y . " H e repudiated w i t h scorn " t h a t p h i l o s o p h y w h i c h pretends t o h a v e made discoveries in the terra australis of m o r a l i t y . His p o l i t i c a l a c t i v i t y w a s indeed guided by devotion to the B r i t i s h constitution, but he conceived of the B r i t i s h constitution in a spirit a k i n to t h a t in w h i c h Cicero h a d conceived of the R o man p o l i t y . Burke d i d not w r i t e a single t h e o r e t i c a l w o r k on the principles of p o l i t i c s . A l l h i s utterances on n a t u r a l r i g h t occur in statements ad hominem and are meant to serve i m m e d i a t e l y a specific p r a c t i c a l purpose. A c c o r d i n g l y , h i s presentation of p o l i t i c a l p r i n c i p l e s changed, to a certain degree, w i t h the change of t h e p o l i t i c a l s i t u a t i o n . Hence he m i g h t e a s i l y appear to h a v e been inconsistent. In fact, he adhered t h r o u g h o u t h i s career to the same principles. A single faith animated h i s actions in favor of the American colonists, in favor of the Irish C a t h o l i c s , a g a i n s t Warren H a s t i n g s , and a g a i n s t the French R e v o l u t i o n . In accordance w i t h the e m i n e n t l y practical bent of h i s t h o u g h t , he stated his principles most forcefully and most c l e a r l y w h e n such a statement w a s most u r g e n t l y needed, i . e . , w h e n these principles w e r e a t t a c k e d both most intrans i g e n t l y and most effectively—after the outbreak of the French R e v o l u t i o n . The French R e v o l u t i o n affected h i s expectations in regard to the future progress of Europe; but it h a r d l y af68

68. The Works of Edmund Burke ("Bonn's Standard Library"), II, 385, 529, 535, 541; VI, 21-23. Cited hereafter as "Works."

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fected, it h a r d l y did more than confirm, h i s v i e w s of w h a t is r i g h t or w r o n g both m o r a l l y and p o l i t i c a l l y . The practical character of B u r k e ' s t h o u g h t p a r t l y e x p l a i n s w h y he did not h e s i t a t e to use the l a n g u a g e of modern n a t u r a l r i g h t w h e n e v e r t h a t could assist h i m in persuading h i s modern audience of the soundness of a p o l i c y w h i c h he recommended. He spoke of the state of nature, of the r i g h t s of nature or of the r i g h t s of m a n , and of the social compact or of the artificial character of the c o m m o n w e a l t h . But he m a y be s a i d to integrate these notions into a c l a s s i c a l or Thomistic framework. 69

70

We must confine ourselves to a few e x a m p l e s . Burke is w i l l ing to grant t h a t men in the state of nature, " u n c o v e n a n t e d " men, h a v e n a t u r a l r i g h t s ; in the state of nature, everyone h a s " t h e r i g h t of self-defense, the first l a w of n a t u r e , " the r i g h t to govern himself, i . e . , " t o judge for himself, and to assert h i s o w n c a u s e , " and even " a r i g h t t o every t h i n g . " But " b y h a v ing a r i g h t to every t h i n g , t h e y w a n t every t h i n g . " The state of nature is the state of " o u r n a k e d , shivering n a t u r e " or of our nature not yet affected in a n y w a y by our v i r t u e s , or of o r i g i n a l barbarism. Hence the state of nature and " t h e full r i g h t s of m e n " w h i c h belong to it cannot supply the standard for c i v i l i z e d life. A l l w a n t s of our n a t u r e — c e r t a i n l y , a l l h i g h e r w a n t s of our nature—point a w a y from the state of nature tow a r d c i v i l society: not " t h e state of rude n a t u r e " but c i v i l soc i e t y is the true state of nature. B u r k e grants t h a t c i v i l s o c i e t y i s " t h e offspring o f c o n v e n t i o n " o r " a c o n t r a c t . " But i t i s " a c o n t r a c t , " "a p a r t n e r s h i p " of a p a r t i c u l a r k i n d — " a partnership in every v i r t u e , and in a l l perfection." It is a contract in 69. Ibid., II, 59-62; III, 104; VI, 144-53- As regards the issue of progress, cf. II, 156; III, 279, 366; VI, 31,106; VII, 23, 58; VIII, 439; Letters of Edmund Burke: A Selection, ed. Harold J. Laski, p. 363 (cited hereafter as "Letters''); cf. also Burke, Select Works, ed. E. J. Payne, II, 34570. Cf., e.g., Works, I, 314, 348, 470; II, 19, 29-30,145, 294-95, 331-33, 366; III, 82; V, 153, 177, 216; VI, 29.


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almost the same sense in w h i c h the w h o l e providential order, " t h e great p r i m e v a l contract of eternal s o c i e t y , " can be s a i d to be a c o n t r a c t . Burke a d m i t s t h a t the purpose of c i v i l society is to safeguard the r i g h t s of man and especially the r i g h t to the pursuit of h a p piness. But happiness can be found o n l y by v i r t u e , by the restraints " w h i c h are imposed by the virtues upon the p a s s i o n s . " Hence the subjection to reason, to government, to l a w , or " t h e restraints on men, as w e l l as t h e i r liberties, are to be reckoned among their r i g h t s . " M a n can never act " w i t h o u t a n y m o r a l t i e , " since " m e n are never in a state of t o t a l independence of each o t h e r . ' ' M a n ' s w i l l must a l w a y s be under the dominion of reason, prudence, or v i r t u e . Burke therefore seeks the foundation of government " i n a conformity to our d u t i e s " and not in " i m a g i n a r y r i g h t s of m e n . " A c c o r d i n g l y , he denies the contention t h a t a l l our duties arise from consent or from contract. 71

72

The discussion regarding the " i m a g i n a r y r i g h t s o f m e n " centers on the r i g h t of everyone to be the sole judge of w h a t is conducive to his self-preservation or to h i s happiness. It w a s t h i s a l l e g e d r i g h t w h i c h seemed to justify the demand t h a t everyone must h a v e some share, and, in a sense, as l a r g e a share as anyone else, in p o l i t i c a l power. Burke questions t h i s demand by g o i n g back to the principle on w h i c h the a l l e g e d basic r i g h t is founded. He grants t h a t everyone h a s a n a t u r a l r i g h t to self-preservation and to the pursuit of happiness. But he denies t h a t everyone's r i g h t to self-preservation and to t h e pursuit of happiness becomes n u g a t o r y if everyone does not h a v e the r i g h t to judge of the means conducive to h i s selfpreservation and to h i s happiness. The r i g h t to the satisfaction of w a n t s or to the a d v a n t a g e s of society is therefore not necess a r i l y a r i g h t to p a r t i c i p a t i o n in p o l i t i c a l power. For the j u d g 71. Ibid., I I , 2 2 0 , 332-33, 3 4 9 , 368-70; III, 82, 86; V, 2 1 2 , 3 1 5 , 498. 72. Ibid., II, 3 1 0 , 331, 333, 5 3 8 ; III, 109; V, 80, 122, 216, 424.

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ment of the m a n y , or " t h e w i l l of t h e m a n y , and their interest, must very often differ." P o l i t i c a l p o w e r or p a r t i c i p a t i o n in p o l i t i c a l p o w e r does not belong to the r i g h t s of man, because men h a v e a r i g h t to good government, and there is no necess a r y connection between good government and government by the m a n y ; the r i g h t s of m a n , p r o p e r l y understood, point tow a r d the predominance of the " t r u e n a t u r a l a r i s t o c r a c y " and t h e r e w i t h to the predominance of property and e s p e c i a l l y landed property. In other w o r d s , everyone is indeed a b l e to judge properly of grievances by h i s feelings, provided t h a t he is not seduced by a g i t a t o r s into j u d g i n g of grievances by h i s i m a g i n a t i o n . But the causes of g r i e v a n c e s " a r e not matters of feeling, but of reason and foresight, and often of remote considerations, and of a very g r e a t combination of circumstances, w h i c h [the m a j o r i t y ] are u t t e r l y incapable of comprehendi n g . " B u r k e therefore seeks the foundation of government not in " i m a g i n a r y r i g h t s of m e n " but " i n a provision for our w a n t s , and in a conformity to our d u t i e s . " A c c o r d i n g l y , he denies t h a t n a t u r a l r i g h t by itself can t e l l much about the l e g i t i m a c y of a given c o n s t i t u t i o n : t h a t constitution is l e g i t i m a t e in a given society w h i c h is most s u i t a b l e to the provision for h u m a n w a n t s and to the promotion of virtue in t h a t s o c i e t y ; i t s s u i t a b i l i t y cannot be determined by n a t u r a l r i g h t but o n l y by experience. 73

Burke does not reject the v i e w t h a t a l l a u t h o r i t y h a s i t s u l t i m a t e o r i g i n in the people or t h a t the sovereign is u l t i m a t e l y the people or t h a t a l l a u t h o r i t y is u l t i m a t e l y derived from a compact of previously " u n c o v e n a n t e d " men. But he denies t h a t these u l t i m a t e t r u t h s , or half-truths, are p o l i t i c a l l y relev a n t . "If c i v i l society be the offspring of convention, t h a t convention must b e i t s l a w . " For a l m o s t a l l practical purposes, 73. Ibid., I, 3 1 1 , 447; II, 92,121,138,177, 310, 322-25, 328, 330-33, 335; III, 44-45, 78, 85-86, 98-99, 109, 352, 358, 492-93; V, 202, 207, 226-27, 322-23, 342; VI, 20-21, 146.


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the convention, the o r i g i n a l compact, i . e . , the established constitution, is the h i g h e s t a u t h o r i t y . Since the function of c i v i l society is the satisfaction of w a n t s , the established constitution derives i t s a u t h o r i t y less from the o r i g i n a l convention or from i t s o r i g i n t h a n from i t s beneficent w o r k i n g t h r o u g h m a n y generations or from i t s fruits. The root of l e g i t i m a c y is not so much consent or contract as proved beneficence, i . e . , prescription. Only prescription, as distinguished from t h e o r i g i n a l compact of " u n c o v e n a n t e d " s a v a g e s , can reveal t h e w i s d o m of the constitution and therefore l e g i t i m a t e the cons t i t u t i o n . T h e h a b i t s produced on the basis of the o r i g i n a l compact, a n d e s p e c i a l l y the h a b i t s of v i r t u e , are infinitely more important than the o r i g i n a l act itself. Only prescription, as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from the o r i g i n a l a c t , can h a l l o w a g i v e n social order. The people is so l i t t l e the m a s t e r of the constitution t h a t it is i t s creature. The strict notion of the s o v e r e i g n t y of the people i m p l i e s t h a t the present generation is s o v e r e i g n : "present c o n v e n i e n c y " becomes the o n l y " p r i n c i p l e of a t t a c h m e n t " to t h e constitution. " T h e temporary possessors a n d life-renters" in the c o m m o n w e a l t h , "unmindful of w h a t t h e y h a v e received from their a n c e s t o r s , " i n e v i t a b l y become unmindful " o f w h a t is due to t h e i r p o s t e r i t y . " The people, or for t h a t m a t t e r a n y other sovereign, is s t i l l less master of t h e n a t u r a l l a w ; n a t u r a l l a w i s not absorbed b y the w i l l o f t h e sovereign or by the general w i l l . As a consequence, the d i s tinction b e t w e e n just and unjust w a r s retains i t s full significance for B u r k e ; he abhors the notion t h a t one should determine the foreign p o l i c y of a n a t i o n e x c l u s i v e l y in terms of i t s "material interest." 74

Burke does not deny t h a t under certain conditions the people m a y a l t e r the established order. But h e a d m i t s t h i s o n l y a s a n 74. Ibid., II, 58, 167, 178, 296, 305-6, 331-32, 335, 349, 359-60, 365-67, 422-23, 513-14, 526, 547; III, 15, 44-45, 54-55,76-85,409,497,498; V, 203-5,216; VI, 3,21-22, 145-47; VII, 99-103.

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u l t i m a t e r i g h t . The h e a l t h of s o c i e t y requires t h a t the u l t i m a t e sovereignty of the people be a l m o s t a l w a y s dormant. He opposes the theorists of the French R e v o l u t i o n because t h e y turn "a case of necessity into a rule of l a w " or because t h e y reg a r d a s n o r m a l l y v a l i d w h a t i s v a l i d o n l y i n extreme cases. " B u t the v e r y h a b i t of stating these extreme cases is not v e r y l a u d a b l e or s a f e . " B u r k e ' s opinions, on the other h a n d , " n e v e r can l e a d to an extreme, because t h e i r foundation is l a i d in an opposition to e x t r e m e s . " 78

Burke traces the extremism of the French R e v o l u t i o n to a novel p h i l o s o p h y . " T h e old m o r a l i t y " w a s a m o r a l i t y "of social benevolence and of i n d i v i d u a l self-denial." The P a r i s i a n philosophers deny the n o b i l i t y of " i n d i v i d u a l self-restraint" or of temperance or of " t h e severe and restrictive v i r t u e s . " T h e y recognize o n l y the " l i b e r a l " v i r t u e s : " a v i r t u e w h i c h t h e y c a l l h u m a n i t y or b e n e v o l e n c e . " H u m a n i t y t h u s understood goes w e l l w i t h dissoluteness. It even fosters i t ; it fosters the loosening of the m a r r i a g e bonds a n d the substitution of the theater for the church. In a d d i t i o n , " t h e same discipline w h i c h . . . r e l a x e s their m o r a l s , " " h a r d e n s their h e a r t s " : the extreme h u m a n i t a r i a n i s m of the theorists of the French R e v o lution necessarily leads to b e s t i a l i t y . For t h a t h u m a n i t a r i a n ism is based on the premise t h a t the fundamental moral facts are r i g h t s w h i c h correspond t o the basic b o d i l y w a n t s ; a l l s o c i a b i l i t y is derivative a n d , in fact, artificial; c e r t a i n l y , c i v i l 76

75. Ibid., I, 471, 4 7 3 , 474; II, 291, 296, 335-36, 468; III, 15-16, 52, 81, 109; V, 120. Cf. G. H. Dodge, The Political Theory of the Huguenots of the Dispersion (New York, 1 9 4 7 ) , p . 105:Jurieu held that it is better "for public peace" that the people do not know the true extent of their powers; the rights of the people are "remedies which must not be wasted or applied in the case of minor wrongs. They arc mysteries which must not be profaned by exposing them too much before the eyes of the common herd." "When it comes to the destruction of the state or religion, then [these remedies] can be produced; beyond that I do not think it evil that they should be covered with silence." 76. Letter to Rivarol of June 1, 1791 (cf. Works, I, 1 3 0 - 3 1 , 427; II, 56, 418), Works, V, 208, 326. Cf. Montesquieu, De I'esprit des lois, XX, 1 (and XIX, 16) on the connection between commerce and the mildness of manners as distinguished from their purity.


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society is r a d i c a l l y artificial. Hence the virtues of the citizen cannot be grafted " o n the stock of the n a t u r a l affections." But c i v i l society is assumed to be not o n l y necessary but noble and sacred. A c c o r d i n g l y , the n a t u r a l sentiments, a l l n a t u r a l sentiments, must be r u t h l e s s l y sacrificed to the a l l e g e d requirements of p a t r i o t i s m or of h u m a n i t y . The French r e v o l u t i o n i s t s arrive at these requirements by approaching h u m a n affairs in the a t t i t u d e of scientists, of g e o m e t r i c i a n s or of chemists. Hence, t h e y are, from the outset, " w o r s e t h a n indifferent about those feelings and h a b i t u d e s , w h i c h are the support of the m o r a l w o r l d . " T h e y "consider men in their e x p e r i m e n t s , no more t h a n t h e y do mice in an a i r pump, or in a recipient of m e p h i t i c g a s . " A c c o r d i n g l y , " t h e y are r e a d y t o declare t h a t t h e y do not t h i n k t w o thousand y e a r s too long a period for the good t h a t t h e y p u r s u e . " " T h e i r h u m a n i t y i s not dissolved. T h e y o n l y g i v e it a long prorogation. . . . Their h u m a n i t y is at their horizon—and, l i k e the horizon, it a l w a y s flies before t h e m . " It is this " s c i e n t i f i c " a t t i t u d e of the French r e v o l u tionists o r o f their teachers w h i c h also e x p l a i n s w h y their d i s soluteness, w h i c h t h e y oppose as something n a t u r a l to t h e conventions of e a r l i e r g a l l a n t r y , is " a n unfashioned, i n d e l i c a t e , sour, g l o o m y , ferocious m e d l e y of pedantism and l e w d ness." 7 7

B u r k e opposes, then, not m e r e l y a change in regard to t h e substance of the moral t e a c h i n g . He opposes l i k e w i s e , a n d even p r i m a r i l y , a change in regard to i t s mode: the n e w m o r a l t e a c h i n g is the w o r k of men w h o t h i n k about h u m a n affairs as geometricians t h i n k about figures and planes r a t h e r t h a n as a c t i n g men t h i n k about a business before t h e m . It is t h i s fundamental c h a n g e from a p r a c t i c a l to a theoretical approach I w h i c h , according to B u r k e , g a v e the French R e v o l u t i o n i t s unique character. " T h e present revolution i n France seems t o m e . . . t o bear 77. Works, II, 311, 409, 419, 338-40; V, 138, 140-42, 209-13.

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l i t t l e resemblance or a n a l o g y to a n y of those w h i c h h a v e been brought about in Europe, upon principles merely p o l i t i c a l . It is a revolution of doctrine and theoretic dogma. It h a s a much greater resemblance to those c h a n g e s w h i c h h a v e been made upon r e l i g i o u s grounds, in w h i c h a spirit of proselytism m a k e s an essential p a r t . " The French R e v o l u t i o n , therefore, has a cert a i n resemblance to the Reformation. Y e t ' ' this spirit of general political faction," or this "armed doctrine," is "separated from r e l i g i o n " and i s , in fact, a t h e i s t i c ; the " t h e o r e t i c dogm a " g u i d i n g the French R e v o l u t i o n i s purely p o l i t i c a l . But, since t h a t revolution extends the p o w e r of politics to r e l i g i o n and " e v e n to the constitution of the mind of m a n , " it is the first "complete r e v o l u t i o n " in the h i s t o r y of m a n k i n d . Its success cannot be e x p l a i n e d , h o w e v e r , by the p o l i t i c a l principles w h i c h a n i m a t e it. Those principles h a v e at a l l times h a d a powerful a p p e a l , since they are " m o s t flattering to the n a t u r a l propensities of the u n t h i n k i n g m u l t i t u d e . " Hence there h a v e been earlier insurrectionary a t t e m p t s "grounded on these r i g h t s of m e n , " l i k e the Jacquerie and J o h n B a l l ' s insurrection in the M i d d l e A g e s and the efforts of the extreme w i n g during the English C i v i l W a r . But none of these attempts w a s successful. The success of the French R e v o l u t i o n can be explained o n l y by t h a t one among its features w h i c h distinguishes it from a l l p a r a l l e l s . The French R e v o l u t i o n is the first " p h i l o sophic r e v o l u t i o n . " It is the first revolution w h i c h w a s made by men of letters, philosophers, " t h o r o u g h b r e d m e t a p h y s i c i a n s , " " n o t as subordinate instruments and trumpeters of sedition, but as the chief contrivers and m a n a g e r s . " It is the first revolution in w h i c h " t h e spirit of a m b i t i o n is connected w i t h the spirit of s p e c u l a t i o n . " 78

In opposing t h i s intrusion of the spirit of speculation or of 78. Ibid., II, 284-87, 299, 300, 302, 338-39, 3 5 2 , 361-62, 382-84, 403-5, 414, 423-24, 527; III, 87-91, 164, 350-52, 354, 376, 377, 379, 442-43, 456-57; V, 73, 111, 138, 1 3 9 , 141, 245, 246, 259 (the italics are in the original).


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t h e o r y into the field of practice or of p o l i t i c s , B a r k e m a y be said to h a v e restored the older v i e w according to w h i c h t h e o r y cannot be t h e sole, or the sufficient, g u i d e of practice. He m a y be said to h a v e returned to A r i s t o t l e in p a r t i c u l a r . But, to s a y n o t h i n g of other qualifications, one must add i m m e d i a t e l y t h a t no one before Burke h a d spoken on t h i s subject w i t h equal e m p h a s i s and force. One m a y even s a y t h a t , from t h e point of v i e w of p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y , B u r k e ' s r e m a r k s on t h e I problem of t h e o r y and practice are t h e most important part o i l h i s w o r k . He spoke more e m p h a t i c a l l y and more forcefully on t h i s problem t h a n Aristotle in p a r t i c u l a r h a d done because he h a d to contend w i t h a n e w and most powerful form of "specul a t i s m , " w i t h a p o l i t i c a l doctrinairism of philosophic o r i g i n . T h a t " s p e c u l a t i s t " approach to p o l i t i c s came to h i s c r i t i c a l attention a considerable t i m e before the French R e v o l u t i o n . Years before 1789, he spoke of " t h e speculatists of our specul a t i n g a g e . " It w a s the increased p o l i t i c a l significance of specu l a t i o n w h i c h , v e r y e a r l y in h i s career, most forcefully turned B u r k e ' s attention to " t h e old quarrel between speculation and practice." 7 9

It w a s in the l i g h t of t h a t quarrel t h a t he conceived h i s greatest p o l i t i c a l a c t i o n s : not o n l y h i s action a g a i n s t the French R e v o l u t i o n but h i s action in favor of the American colonists as w e l l . In both cases the p o l i t i c a l leaders w h o m Burke opposed insisted on certain r i g h t s : the E n g l i s h government insisted on the r i g h t s of sovereignty a n d the French r e v o l u t i o n i s t s Insisted on the r i g h t s of m a n . In both cases Burke proceeded in e x a c t l y the same manner: he questioned less the r i g h t s t h a n the w i s d o m of exercising the r i g h t s . In both cases he tried to restore the g e n u i n e l y p o l i t i c a l approach as a g a i n s t a l e g a l i s t i c approach. N o w he c h a r a c t e r i s t i c a l l y r e garded the l e g a l i s t i c approach as one form of " s p e c u l a t i s m , " other forms being the approaches of the h i s t o r i a n , the m e t a 7 9 . Ibid., I, 3 1 1 ; II, 3 6 3 ; III, 1 3 9 , 356; V, 76; VII, 1 1 .

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p h y s i c i a n , the t h e o l o g i a n , and the m a t h e m a t i c i a n . A l l these approaches to p o l i t i c a l matters h a v e t h i s in common—that t h e y are not controlled by prudence, the controlling v i r t u e of a l l practice. W h a t e v e r m i g h t h a v e to be s a i d about the proprie t y of B u r k e ' s u s a g e , it is here sufficient to note t h a t , in judgi n g the p o l i t i c a l leaders w h o m he opposed in the t w o most important actions of h i s life, he traced their l a c k of prudence less to passion than to the intrusion of the spirit of theory into the field of p o l i t i c s . 80

It h a s often been s a i d t h a t B u r k e , in the name of h i s t o r y , a t t a c k e d the theories w h i c h prevailed i n h i s a g e . A s w i l l appear later, t h i s interpretation is not a l t o g e t h e r unjustified. But, in order to see i t s l i m i t e d correctness, one must start from the fact t h a t w h a t appeared to the generations after B u r k e as a turn to H i s t o r y , not to s a y as the discovery of H i s t o r y , w a s p r i m a r i l y a return to the t r a d i t i o n a l v i e w of the essential l i m i t a t i o n s of t h e o r y as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from practice or prudence. " S p e c u l a t i s m " in its most t h o r o u g h g o i n g form w o u l d be the v i e w t h a t a l l the l i g h t w h i c h practice needs i s supplied b y theo r y or p h i l o s o p h y or science. Over a g a i n s t t h i s v i e w Burke asserts t h a t t h e o r y is insufficient for the guidance of practice and, in a d d i t i o n , h a s e s s e n t i a l l y a tendency to m i s l e a d pract i c e . Practice and hence practical w i s d o m or prudence are dist i n g u i s h e d from t h e o r y , in the first p l a c e , by the fact t h a t t h e y are concerned w i t h the p a r t i c u l a r and c h a n g e a b l e , w h e r e a s theory is concerned w i t h the universal and u n c h a n g e a b l e . T h e ory, " w h i c h regards man and the affairs of m e n , " is p r i m a r i l y concerned w i t h the principles o f m o r a l i t y a s w e l l a s w i t h " t h e principles of true p o l i t i c s [ w h i c h ] are those of m o r a l i t y en81

80. Ibid., I, 257, 278, 279, 402, 403, 431, 432, 435, 479-80; II, 7, 25-30, 52, 300, 304; III, 16; V, 295; VII, 161; VIII, 8-9; cf. also Ernest Barker, Essays on Government (Oxford, 1945), p. 221. 81. Works, I, 2 5 9 , 270-71, 376; II, 25-26, 306, 334-35, 552; III, 110; VI, 148; Utters, p. 131.


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l a r g e d " or w i t h " t h e proper ends of g o v e r n m e n t . " K n o w i n g the proper ends of government, one does not k n o w a n y t h i n g of h o w and to w h a t extent those ends can be realized here and n o w , under these p a r t i c u l a r circumstances both fixed and t r a n s i t o r y . And it is the circumstances w h i c h give " t o e v e r y p o l i t i c a l principle i t s d i s t i n g u i s h i n g colour and d i s c r i m i n a t i n g effect." P o l i t i c a l freedom, for e x a m p l e , m a y be a blessing or a curse, according to the difference of circumstances. " T h e science of constructing a c o m m o n w e a l t h , or renovating i t , or reforming i t , " as distinguished from the k n o w l e d g e of the principles of p o l i t i c s , is therefore an " e x p e r i m e n t a l science, not to be t a u g h t a priori." T h e o r y , then, deals not merely w i t h the proper ends of government but also w i t h the means to those ends. But there is h a r d l y a n y rule regarding those means w h i c h is u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d . Sometimes one is confronted even " w i t h the dreadful exigence in w h i c h m o r a l i t y submits to the suspension of its o w n rules in favour of i t s o w n p r i n c i p l e s . " Since there are m a n y rules of this k i n d w h i c h are sound in most cases, t h e y h a v e a p l a u s i b i l i t y t h a t is p o s i t i v e l y m i s l e a d i n g in regard to the rare cases in w h i c h their a p p l i c a tion w o u l d be f a t a l . Such rules do not m a k e proper a l l o w a n c e for chance, " t o w h i c h speculators are r a r e l y pleased to assign t h a t v e r y l a r g e share to w h i c h she is j u s t l y entitled in a l l h u man a f f a i r s . " Disregarding the p o w e r of chance and thus forg e t t i n g t h a t " p e r h a p s the o n l y moral trust w i t h a n y c e r t a i n t y in our h a n d s , is the care of our o w n t i m e , " " t h e y do not t a l k as p o l i t i c i a n s , but as p r o p h e t s . " The concern w i t h the universal or the general is l i k e l y to create a k i n d of blindness in reg a r d to t h e p a r t i c u l a r and the unique. P o l i t i c a l rules derived from experience express the lessons d r a w n from w h a t h a s succeeded or failed d o w n to the present. T h e y are therefore i n a p p l i c a b l e to n e w s i t u a t i o n s . N e w situations sometimes arise 82

82. Works, I, 185, 312, 456; II, 7-8, 282-83, 333, 358, 406, 426-27, 4 3 1 , 520, 533, 542-43, 549; III, 15-16, 36, 81, 101, 350, 431-32, 452; V, 158, 216; VI, 19, 24, 114, 471; VII, 93-94, 101.

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in reaction to the very rules w h i c h uncontradicted previous experience pronounced to be u n i v e r s a l l y v a l i d : man is inventive in good and in e v i l . Therefore it m a y happen t h a t " e x perience upon other data [than the a c t u a l circumstances of the c a s e ] , is of a l l t h i n g s the most d e l u s i v e . " It f o l l o w s from t h i s t h a t h i s t o r y is o n l y of v e r y l i m i t e d v a l u e . From h i s t o r y " m u c h p o l i t i c a l w i s d o m m a y be l e a r n e d , " but o n l y " a s h a b i t , not as p r e c e p t . " H i s t o r y is l i a b l e to turn m a n ' s understanding from " t h e business before h i m " to m i s l e a d i n g a n a l o g i e s , and men are n a t u r a l l y inclined to succumb to t h a t temptation. For it requires a much greater effort to a r t i c u l a t e a h i t h e r t o u n a r t i c u l a t e d situation in its p a r t i c u l a r character than to interpret it in the l i g h t of precedents w h i c h h a v e been a r t i c u l a t e d a l r e a d y . "I h a v e constantly o b s e r v e d , " Burke s a y s , " t h a t the g e n e r a l i t y of people are fifty y e a r s , at l e a s t , behind h a n d i n their p o l i t i c s . . . i n books e v e r y t h i n g i s settled for t h e m , w i t h o u t the exertion of a n y considerable d i l i gence or s a g a c i t y . " T h i s is not to deny t h a t the p o l i t i c i a n sometimes needs h i s t o r y for the s a k e of " t h e business before h i m . " Reason and good sense a b s o l u t e l y prescribe, e.g., " w h e n e v e r we are involved in difficulties from the measures we h a v e pursued, t h a t we should t a k e a strict r e v i e w of those m e a s u r e s " or t h a t we should " e n t e r into the most ample h i s torical d e t a i l . " H i s t o r y h a s t h i s i n common w i t h p r a c t i c a l w i s d o m — t h a t both are concerned w i t h p a r t i c u l a r s ; and it h a s t h i s in common w i t h t h e o r y — t h a t the objects of h i s t o r y , i . e . , past actions or transactions (acta), are not objects of action proper (agenda j , i . e . , things w h i c h w e h a v e t o d o n o w . Thus h i s t o r y , or "retrospective w i s d o m , " creates the delusion t h a t it could " s e r v e a d m i r a b l y to reconcile the old quarrel between speculation and p r a c t i c e . " 8 3

84

Another w a y i n w h i c h men t r y t o evade the h a r d s h i p in83. Ibid., I, 277-78, 3 1 2 , 365; II, 372, 374-75, 383; III, 15-17; V, 78, 153-54, 257. 84. Ibid., I, 3 1 1 , 384-85; II, 25; III, 456-57; V, 258.


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volved in a r t i c u l a t i n g and h a n d l i n g difficult situations is l e g a l i s m . T h e y sometimes act on the assumption t h a t p o l i t i c a l questions proper, w h i c h , as such, concern the here and n o w , can be f u l l y answered by recourse to l a w , w h i c h , as such, is concerned w i t h universals. It is w i t h a v i e w to t h i s difference between the prudential and the l e g a l t h a t Burke c a l l s the l e g a l approach sometimes " s p e c u l a t i v e " o r " m e t a p h y s i c a l . " H e contrasts " t h e l i m i t e d and fixed" character of the l e g a l , w h i c h i s " a d a p t e d t o o r d i n a r y o c c a s i o n s , " w i t h the p r u d e n t i a l , w h i c h alone can guide men " w h e n a n e w and troubled scene is opened." 86

Theory, then, is capable of a s i m p l i c i t y , uniformity, or e x actness w h i c h practical w i s d o m n e c e s s a r i l y l a c k s . It is c h a r a c teristic of the theory w h i c h regards man and the affairs of men t h a t it be p r i m a r i l y concerned e i t h e r w i t h the best or s i m p l y just order or w i t h the state of n a t u r e . In both forms t h e o r y is p r i m a r i l y concerned w i t h the simplest case. T h i s simple case never occurs in practice; no a c t u a l order is simply just, a n d every social order is fundamentally different from the state of nature. Therefore, p r a c t i c a l w i s d o m a l w a y s h a s t o d o w i t h e x ceptions, modifications, balances, compromises, or m i x t u r e s . " T h e s e m e t a p h y s i c a l r i g h t s entering into common life, l i k e r a y s of l i g h t w h i c h pierce into a dense m e d i u m are, by the l a w s of n a t u r e , refracted from t h e i r s t r a i g h t l i n e . " Since " t h e objects of society are of the greatest possible c o m p l e x i t y , " " t h e p r i m i t i v e r i g h t s o f m e n " cannot continue " i n the simp l i c i t y of t h e i r o r i g i n a l d i r e c t i o n " ; " a n d in proportion as [these r i g h t s ] are m e t a p h y s i c a l l y true, t h e y are m o r a l l y and p o l i t i c a l l y f a l s e . " Practical w i s d o m , in contradistinction to \ t h e o r y , r e q u i r e s , therefore, " t h e most delicate and c o m p l i cated s k i l l , " a s k i l l w h i c h arises o n l y from long and v a r i e d practice. a

86

85. Ibid., I, 199, 406-7, 431, 432; II, 7, 25, 28; V, 295. 86. Ibid., I, 257, 336-37, 408, 433, 500-501; II, 29-30, 333-35, 437-38, 454-55, 515; III, 16; V, 158; VI, 132-33.

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On the other hand, Burke characterizes theory as " s u b t l e " or "refined" and sees in s i m p l i c i t y or plainness an essential character of sound p o l i t i c s : "refined p o l i c y h a s ever been the parent of confusion." The w a n t s for w h i c h society h a s to provide and the duties to w h i c h it h a s to conform m a y be s a i d to be k n o w n to everyone through h i s feelings and h i s conscience. Politic a l theory raises the question r e g a r d i n g the best solution to the p o l i t i c a l problem. For t h i s purpose, to s a y n o t h i n g of others, it transcends the l i m i t s of common experience: it is "refined." The man of c i v i l discretion is v a g u e l y a w a r e of the best solution but is c l e a r l y a w a r e of w h i c h modification of the best solution is appropriate in the circumstances. To t a k e an example from the present d a y , he is a w a r e of the fact t h a t at present o n l y "a w i d e r , if a simpler c u l t u r e " is possible. The c l a r i t y required for sound action is not n e c e s s a r i l y enhanced by enhanced c l a r i t y about the best solution or by enhanced theor e t i c a l c l a r i t y of a n y other k i n d : t h e c l e a r l i g h t of the i v o r y t o w e r or, for t h a t matter, of the l a b o r a t o r y obscures p o l i t i c a l t h i n g s b y i m p a i r i n g the medium i n w h i c h t h e y e x i s t . I t m a y require " t h e most delicate and complicated s k i l l " to devise a p o l i c y w h i c h agrees t o l e r a b l y w e l l w i t h the ends of government in a given situation. But such a p o l i c y is a failure if the people cannot see its soundness: "refined p o l i c y ' ' is destructive i of trust and hence of full obedience. P o l i c y must be " p l a i n " as regards " a l l broader grounds of p o l i c y , " w h e r e a s it is not necessary t h a t " t h e ground of a p a r t i c u l a r measure, m a k i n g a part of a p l a n " should " s u i t the o r d i n a r y capacities of those w h o are to enjoy i t " or even t h a t t h a t ground should be div u l g e d to them. "In the most e s s e n t i a l p o i n t , " " t h e less inq u i r i n g " can be and o u g h t to be, by v i r t u e of " t h e i r feelings and t h e i r e x p e r i e n c e , " " o n a p a r w i t h the most w i s e and knowing." 8 7

8 8

87. Winston S. Churchill, Blood, Sweat, and Tears (New York, 1941), p. 18. 88. Works, I, 337, 428-29, 435, 454, 489; II, 26, 30, 304, 358, 542; III, 112, 441; V, 227, 278; VI, 21, 24; VII, 349.


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Furthermore, practice presupposes attachment to a particul a r or, more precisely, t o " o n e ' s o w n " ( o n e ' s country, one's people, o n e ' s r e l i g i o u s group, and the l i k e ) , w h e r e a s theory i s detached. To be attached to something means to care for i t , to have a concern w i t h i t , to be affected by i t , or to h a v e a s t a k e in it. P r a c t i c a l m a t t e r s , as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from theoretical ones, "come home to the business and bosoms of m e n . " The t h e o retician as such is no more interested in h i s o w n case or in the case of h i s o w n group than in a n y other. He is i m p a r t i a l a n d neutral, not t o s a y " c o l d and l a n g u i d . " "Speculators o u g h t t o be neutral. A minister cannot be s o . " A c t i n g man is n e c e s s a r i l y and l e g i t i m a t e l y p a r t i a l t o w h a t i s h i s o w n ; i t i s h i s d u t y t o t a k e sides. Burke does not mean t h a t the theoretician m u s t not pass " v a l u e j u d g m e n t s " but t h a t , as theoretician, he is a partisan of excellence regardless of w h e n and w h e r e it is found; he unqualifiedly prefers the g o o d to w h a t is h i s o w n . A c t i n g m a n , h o w e v e r , i s p r i m a r i l y concerned w i t h w h a t i s h i s o w n , w i t h w h a t i s nearest and dearest t o h i m , h o w e v e r deficient in excellence it m a y be. The horizon of practice is necess a r i l y n a r r o w e r t h a n t h a t of t h e o r y . By opening up a l a r g e r v i s t a , by t h u s r e v e a l i n g the l i m i t a t i o n s of any p r a c t i c a l pursuit, t h e o r y is l i a b l e to endanger full devotion to p r a c t i c e . 89

Practice l a c k s the freedom of t h e o r y also because it cannot w a i t : " w e must submit . . . affairs to t i m e . " Practical t h o u g h t is t h o u g h t w i t h a v i e w to some d e a d l i n e . It is concerned w i t h the most i m m i n e n t r a t h e r t h a n w i t h the most e l i g i b l e . I t l a c k s the ease a n d the leisure of t h e o r y . It does not permit man " t o evade an o p i n i o n " or to suspend h i s judgment. Therefore, it must rest satisfied w i t h a l o w e r degree of c l a r i t y or c e r t a i n t y than t h e o r e t i c a l t h o u g h t . Every theoretical " d e c i s i o n " is r e versible; a c t i o n s are irreversible. T h e o r y can and must ever a g a i n begin from the beginning. The v e r y question of the best social order means t h a t one " m o o t s cases . . . o n the supposed 89. Ibid., I, 185-86, 324, 501; II, 29, 120, 280-81, 548; III, 379-80; VI, 226; VIII, 458.

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ruin of the c o n s t i t u t i o n , " i . e . , t h a t one does something w h i c h i n p r a c t i c a l t h o u g h t w o u l d bespeak " a bad h a b i t . " I n contradistinction to theory, practice is l i m i t e d by past decisions and, therefore, by w h a t is established. In h u m a n affairs, possession passes for a t i t l e , w h e r e a s there is no presumption in favor of the accepted v i e w i n theoretical m a t t e r s . 90

Speculation, being e s s e n t i a l l y " p r i v a t e , " i s concerned w i t h the truth w i t h o u t a n y regard t o p u b l i c opinion. But " n a t i o n a l m e a s u r e s " or " p o l i t i c a l problems do not p r i m a r i l y concern truth or falsehood. T h e y relate to g o o d or e v i l . " T h e y relate to peace and " m u t u a l c o n v e n i e n c e , " a n d t h e i r satisfactory h a n d l i n g requires "unsuspecting confidence," consent, agreement, and compromise. P o l i t i c a l action requires " a judicious management of the temper of the p e o p l e . " Even in g i v i n g "a direction . . . t o the general sense o f the c o m m u n i t y , " i t must " f o l l o w . . . the public i n c l i n a t i o n . " R e g a r d l e s s of w h a t one m i g h t h a v e to t h i n k of " t h e abstract v a l u e of the voice of the people, . . . opinion, the g r e a t support of the State, [depends] e n t i r e l y upon t h a t v o i c e . " Hence i t m a y e a s i l y happen t h a t w h a t i s m e t a p h y s i c a l l y true i s p o l i t i c a l l y false. " E s t a b l i s h e d o p i n i o n s , " " a l l o w e d opinions w h i c h contribute s o much t o the public t r a n q u i l l i t y , " must not b e s h a k e n , a l t h o u g h t h e y are not " i n f a l l i b l e . " Prejudices must be " a p p e a s e d . " P o l i t i c a l life requires t h a t fundamental p r i n c i p l e s proper, w h i c h , as such, transcend the established constitution, be kept in a state of dormancy. Temporary s o l u t i o n s of c o n t i n u i t y , must be " k e p t from the e y e , " o r a " p o l i t i c , w e l l - w r o u g h t v e i l " must be t h r o w n over them. " T h e r e is a sacred v e i l to be d r a w n over the beginnings of a l l g o v e r n m e n t s . " W h e r e a s speculation is " i n n o v a t i n g , " w h e r e a s the " w a t e r s " o f science " m u s t b e troubled, before t h e y can exert t h e i r v i r t u e s , " practice must keep as c l o s e l y as possible to precedent, e x a m p l e , and t r a d i t i o n : " o l d custom . . . i s the g r e a t support o f a l l the govern90. Ibid., I, 87, 193, 323, 336, 405; II, 26, 427-28, 548, 552; VI, 19; VII, 127.


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merits in the w o r l d . " Society rests, indeed, on consent. Yet the consent cannot be achieved by reasoning alone, and in p a r t i c u l a r not by the mere c a l c u l a t i o n of the a d v a n t a g e s of l i v i n g together—a c a l c u l a t i o n w h i c h m a y be completed in a brief span of time—but s o l e l y by h a b i t s and prejudices w h i c h g r o w up o n l y in l o n g periods. W h e r e a s t h e o r y rejects error, prejudice, or superstition, the statesman puts these to u s e . 91

The intrusion of theory into p o l i t i c s is l i a b l e to h a v e an u n s e t t l i n g and inflaming effect. No a c t u a l social order is perfect. " S p e c u l a t i v e i n q u i r i e s " necessarily bring to l i g h t t h e imperfect character of the established order. If these i n q u i r i e s are introduced into p o l i t i c a l discussion, w h i c h , of n e c e s s i t y , l a c k s " t h e coolness o f p h i l o s o p h i c i n q u i r y , " t h e y are l i a b l e " t o raise discontent in the p e o p l e " in regard to the e s t a b l i s h e d order, discontent w h i c h m a y m a k e r a t i o n a l reform impossible. The most l e g i t i m a t e theoretical problems become, in the pol i t i c a l arena, " v e x a t i o u s q u e s t i o n s " and cause " a spirit o f l i t i g a t i o n " and " f a n a t i c i s m . " Considerations transcending " t h e a r g u m e n t s of states and k i n g d o m s " must be left " t o t h e schools; for there o n l y t h e y m a y be discussed w i t h s a f e t y . " 9 2

As m a y be inferred from the preceding p a r a g r a p h s , B u r k e is not content w i t h defending p r a c t i c a l w i s d o m a g a i n s t the encroachments of theoretical science. He parts company w i t h the A r i s t o t e l i a n tradition by d i s p a r a g i n g theory and e s p e c i a l l y m e t a p h y s i c s . He uses " m e t a p h y s i c s " and " m e t a p h y s i c i a n " frequently in a derogatory sense. There is a connection bet w e e n t h i s usage and the fact t h a t he regards A r i s t o t l e ' s n a t u r a l p h i l o s o p h y as " u n w o r t h y of h i m , " w h e r e a s he considers Epicurean p h y s i c s to be " t h e most approaching to r a t i o n a l . " 9 3

91. Ibid., I, 87, 190, 257, 280, 307, 352, 375, 431, 432, 471, 473, 483, 489, 492, 502; II, 27-29, 33-34, 44, 292, 293, 306, 335, 336, 349, 429-30, 439; III, 39-40, 81, 109, 110; V, 230; VI, 98, 243, 306-7; VII, 44-48, 59, 60, 190; VIII, 274; Lettirs, pp. 299-300. 92. Works, I, 2 5 9 - « ) , 270-71, 432; II, 28-29, 331; HI, 12,16, 25, 39, 81, 98-99, 104, 106; VI, 132. 93. Ibid., VI, 250-51.

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There is a connection between his strictures on m e t a p h y s i c s and the s k e p t i c a l tendencies of h i s contemporaries Hume and Rousseau. At least so much must be said t h a t B u r k e ' s distinction between t h e o r y and practice is r a d i c a l l y different from A r i s t o t l e ' s , since it is not based on a c l e a r conviction of the u l t i m a t e superiority of t h e o r y or of the theoretical life. For the support of t h i s contention, we do not h a v e to r e l y e n t i r e l y on a general impression derived from B u r k e ' s u s a g e and the bent of h i s t h o u g h t . He w r o t e one theoretical w o r k : A Philosophical Inquiry into the Origin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful. In t h a t w o r k he speaks in a nonpolemical tone about the l i m i t a t i o n s of theoretic science: " W h e n we go but one step beyond the i m m e d i a t e sensible q u a l i t i e s of t h i n g s , we go out of our depth. A l l we do after is but a faint s t r u g g l e , t h a t s h o w s w e are i n a n element w h i c h does not belong t o u s . " Our k n o w l e d g e of b o d i l y and m e n t a l phenomena is l i m i t e d to the manner of their operation, to t h e i r H o w ; it can never reach t h e i r W h y . The v e r y t i t l e of the i n q u i r y reveals the ancestry of B u r k e ' s sole theoretic effort; it is reminiscent of L o c k e and of B u r k e ' s acquaintance, Hume. Of L o c k e , Burke s a y s t h a t " t h e a u t h o r i t y of t h i s g r e a t man is doubtless as g r e a t as t h a t of a n y man can b e . " The most important t h e s i s of the Sublime and Beautiful is in perfect agreement w i t h B r i t i s h sensualism and in e x p l i c i t opposition to the c l a s s i c s ; B u r k e denies t h a t there is a connection between b e a u t y , on the one h a n d , and perfection, proportion, v i r t u e , convenience, order, fitness, and a n y other such "creatures of the u n d e r s t a n d i n g , " on the other. T h a t is to s a y , he refuses to understand visible or sensible b e a u t y in the l i g h t of intellectual beauty. 94

The emancipation of sensible b e a u t y from i t s t r a d i t i o n a l l y assumed directedness t o w a r d i n t e l l e c t u a l b e a u t y foreshadows or accompanies a certain e m a n c i p a t i o n of sentiment and instinct from reason, or a certain depreciation of reason. It is t h i s 94. Ibid., I, 114 ff., 122, 129, 131, 143-44, 1 5 5 ; II, 441; VI, 98.


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novel a t t i t u d e t o w a r d reason w h i c h accounts for the nonclassical overtones in B u r k e ' s r e m a r k s on the difference between t h e o r y and practice. B u r k e ' s opposition to modern " r a t i o n a l i s m " shifts almost insensibly into an opposition to " r a t i o n a l i s m " as s u c h . W h a t he s a y s about the deficiencies of reason is indeed p a r t l y t r a d i t i o n a l . On some occasions he does not go beyond depreciating the judgment of the i n d i v i d u a l in favor of " t h e judgment of the h u m a n r a c e , " the w i s d o m of " t h e s p e c i e s " or " t h e ancient, permanent sense of m a n k i n d , " i . e . , the consensus gentium. On other occasions he does not go beyond depreciating the experience w h i c h the i n d i v i d u a l can acquire in favor of the much more extensive and varied experience of "a long succession of g e n e r a t i o n s " or of " t h e collected reason of a g e s . " The novel element in B u r k e ' s critique of reason r e v e a l s itself least a m b i g u o u s l y in i t s most important p r a c t i c a l consequence: he rejects the v i e w t h a t constitutions can be " m a d e " in favor of the v i e w t h a t t h e y must " g r o w ' ' ; he therefore rejects in p a r t i c u l a r the v i e w t h a t the best social order can be or o u g h t to be the w o r k of an i n d i v i d u a l , of a w i s e " l e g i s l a t o r " or founder. 95

9 6

97

To see t h i s more c l e a r l y , it is necessary to contrast B u r k e ' s v i e w of t h e B r i t i s h constitution, w h i c h he regarded, to s a y t h e 95. In the Sublime and Beautiful, Burke says that "our gardens, if nothing else, declare we begin to feel that mathematical ideas are not the true measures of beauty," and that this wrong view "arose from the Platonic theory of fitness and aptitude" (Works, 1,122). In the Reflections on the Revolution in France, he compares the French revolutionists to the French "ornamental gardeners" (Works, II, 413). Cf. ibid., II, 306, 308; I, 280. 96. Works, II, 359, 364, 367, 435, 440; VI, 146-47. 97. Friedrich von Gentz, the German translator of the Reflections on the Revolution in France, says: "Konstitutionen können schlechterdings nicht gemacht werden, sie müssen sich, wie Natur-Werke, durch allmähliche Entwicklung von selbst bilden. . . . Diese Wahrheit ist die kostbarste, vielleicht die einzige wirklich neue (denn höchstens geahnt, aber nicht vollständig erkannt wurde sie zuvor), um welche die französische Revolution die höhere Staatswissenschaft bereichert hat" (Staatsschriften und Briefe [Munich, 1921], I, 344) (the italics are not in the original).

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least, as second to none, w i t h the c l a s s i c a l v i e w of the best constitution. According to the classics, the best constitution is a contrivance of reason, i . e . , of conscious a c t i v i t y or of p l a n ning on the part of an i n d i v i d u a l or of a few i n d i v i d u a l s . It is in accordance w i t h nature, or it is a n a t u r a l order, since it fulfils to the h i g h e s t degree the requirements of the perfection of human nature, or since its structure i m i t a t e s the pattern of nature. But it is not n a t u r a l as regards the manner of its production: it is a w o r k of design, p l a n n i n g , conscious m a k i n g ; it does not come into being by a n a t u r a l process or by the i m i tation of a n a t u r a l process. The best constitution is directed t o w a r d a v a r i e t y of ends w h i c h are l i n k e d w i t h one another by nature in such a manner t h a t one of these ends is the h i g h e s t end; the best constitution is therefore directed p a r t i c u l a r l y tow a r d t h a t single end w h i c h is by n a t u r e the h i g h e s t . According to Burke, on the other hand, the best constitution is in accordance w i t h nature or is n a t u r a l a l s o and p r i m a r i l y because it h a s come into being not t h r o u g h p l a n n i n g but t h r o u g h the i m i t a t i o n of n a t u r a l process, i . e . , because it h a s come into being w i t h o u t g u i d i n g reflection, continuously, s l o w l y , not to s a y imperceptibly, " i n a g r e a t l e n g t h of t i m e , and by a g r e a t v a r i e t y of a c c i d e n t s " ; a l l " n e w fancied and n e w fabricated rep u b l i c s " are necessarily bad. The best constitution is therefore not "formed upon a r e g u l a r plan or w i t h a n y u n i t y of d e s i g n " but directed t o w a r d " t h e greatest v a r i e t y of e n d s . " One goes beyond w h a t Burke himself s a y s if one ascribes to him the v i e w t h a t a sound p o l i t i c a l order must be the product of H i s t o r y . W h a t came to be c a l l e d " h i s t o r i c a l " w a s , for Burke, s t i l l " t h e l o c a l and a c c i d e n t a l . " W h a t came to be c a l l e d " h i s t o r i c a l p r o c e s s " w a s for h i m s t i l l accidental causation or accidental causation modified by the prudential h a n d l i n g of s i t u a t i o n s as t h e y arose. A c c o r d i n g l y , the sound pol i t i c a l order for h i m , in the last a n a l y s i s , is the unintended out9 8

98. Works, II, 33, 91, 305, 307-8, 439-40; V, 148, 253-54.


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come of a c c i d e n t a l causation. He applied to the production of the sound p o l i t i c a l order w h a t modern p o l i t i c a l economy h a d t a u g h t about the production of public prosperity: the common good is the product of a c t i v i t i e s w h i c h are not by themselves ordered t o w a r d the common good. Burke accepted the principle of modern p o l i t i c a l economy w h i c h is d i a m e t r i c a l l y opposed t o the c l a s s i c a l p r i n c i p l e : " t h e love o f l u c r e , " " t h i s natu r a l , t h i s reasonable . . . p r i n c i p l e , " " i s the grand cause of prosperity to a l l s t a t e s . " The good order or the r a t i o n a l is the result of forces w h i c h do not themselves tend t o w a r d the good order o r t h e r a t i o n a l . T h i s principle w a s f i r s t applied t o t h e p l a n e t a r y system and thereafter to " t h e system of w a n t s , " i . e . , to e c o n o m i c s . The a p p l i c a t i o n of t h i s principle to t h e genesis of t h e sound p o l i t i c a l order w a s one of the t w o most important elements in the " d i s c o v e r y " of History. The other, e q u a l l y i m p o r t a n t , element w a s supplied by the application of the same principle to the understanding of m a n ' s h u m a n i t y ; m a n ' s h u m a n i t y w a s understood as acquired by virtue of accidental c a u s a t i o n . T h i s v i e w , of w h i c h the classic exposition is to be found in Rousseau's Second Discourse, led to the consequence t h a t " t h e h i s t o r i c a l p r o c e s s " w a s t h o u g h t t o c u l m i n a t e in an absolute moment: the moment in w h i c h man, the product of b l i n d fate, becomes the seeing master of h i s fate by understanding for the first time in an adequate manner w h a t is r i g h t and w r o n g p o l i t i c a l l y and m o r a l l y . It led to a " c o m p l e t e r e v o l u t i o n , " to a revolution extending "even to the constitution of t h e mind of m a n . " Burke denies the p o s s i b i l i t y of an absolute moment; man can never become the seeing master of 9 9

100

99. Ibid., II, 33; V, 3 1 3 ; VI, 160; Letters, p. 270. As for Burke's agreement with the modern "economical politicians," see especially Works, I, 299, 462; II, 93, 194, 351, 431-32; V, 89,100,124, 3 2 1 ; VIII, 69. One of the few things which Burke seems to have learned through the French Revolution is that power and influence do not necessarily go with property. Compare Works, III, 372, 456-57; V, 256, with VI, 318; sec also Barker, of. cit., p. 159. 100. Cf. Hegel, Kechtsfhilosofhie, sec. 189 Zusatz.

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h i s fate; w h a t the w i s e s t i n d i v i d u a l can t h i n k out for himself is a l w a y s inferior to w h a t h a s been produced " i n a g r e a t l e n g t h of t i m e , and by a great v a r i e t y of a c c i d e n t s . " He denies therefore, if not the f e a s i b i l i t y , at l e a s t the l e g i t i m a c y , of a "complete r e v o l u t i o n " ; a l l other m o r a l o r p o l i t i c a l errors a l most fade into insignificance if compared w i t h the error underl y i n g the French R e v o l u t i o n . The a g e of the French R e v o l u tion, far from being the absolute m o m e n t , is " t h e most unenl i g h t e n e d a g e , the l e a s t qualified for l e g i s l a t i o n t h a t perhaps h a s been since the first formation of c i v i l s o c i e t y . " One is tempted to s a y t h a t it is the a g e of perfect sinfulness. Not a d m i r a t i o n , but contempt of the present; not contempt, but a d m i r a t i o n of the ancient order a n d e v e n t u a l l y of the a g e of c h i v a l r y , is the sound a t t i t u d e — e v e r y t h i n g good is i n h e r i t e d . W h a t i s needed i s not " m e t a p h y s i c a l j u r i s p r u d e n c e " but " h i s torical j u r i s p r u d e n c e . " Thus B u r k e p a v e s the w a y for " t h e h i s t o r i c a l s c h o o l . " But h i s i n t r a n s i g e n t opposition to the French R e v o l u t i o n must not b l i n d us to the fact t h a t , in opposing the French R e v o l u t i o n , he h a s recourse to the same fundamental principle w h i c h is at t h e bottom of the revolut i o n a r y theorems a n d w h i c h i s a l i e n t o a l l e a r l i e r t h o u g h t . 101

It almost goes w i t h o u t s a y i n g t h a t B u r k e regards the connection between " t h e love of l u c r e " a n d prosperity, on the one hand, and "a great v a r i e t y of a c c i d e n t s " and a h e a l t h y p o l i t i c a l order, on t h e other, as part of t h e p r o v i d e n t i a l order; it is because the processes w h i c h are not g u i d e d by h u m a n reflection are part of the p r o v i d e n t i a l order t h a t their products are infinitely superior in w i s d o m to the products of reflection. From a s i m i l a r point of v i e w , Kant h a s interpreted the teaching of R o u s s e a u ' s Second Discourse as a vindication of Provid e n c e . A c c o r d i n g l y , the idea of H i s t o r y , precisely l i k e mod102

101. Works, II, 348-49, 363; VI, 413; see also Thomas W. Copeland, Edmund Burks: Six Essays (London, 1950), p. 232. 102. Works, II, 33, 307; V, 89,100, 321; Kant, Sämtliche Wirke, ed. Karl Vorländer, VIII, 280.


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ern p o l i t i c a l economy, could appear to h a v e emerged t h r o u g h a modification of the t r a d i t i o n a l belief in Providence. T h a t modification is u s u a l l y described as " s e c u l a r i z a t i o n . " " S e c u l a r i z a t i o n " is the " t e m p o r a l i z a t i o n " of the spiritual or of t h e e t e r n a l . It is the attempt to i n t e g r a t e the eternal into a temporal context. It therefore presupposes t h a t t h e eternal is no longer understood as eternal. " S e c u l a r i z a t i o n , " in o t h e r w o r d s , presupposes a r a d i c a l c h a n g e of t h o u g h t , a t r a n s i t i o n of t h o u g h t from one plane to an e n t i r e l y different p l a n e . T h i s r a d i c a l c h a n g e appears in i t s undisguised form in the emergence of modern p h i l o s o p h y or science; it is not p r i m a r i l y a c h a n g e w i t h i n t h e o l o g y . W h a t presents itself a s t h e " s e c u l a r i z a t i o n " of t h e o l o g i c a l concepts w i l l h a v e to be understood, in t h e l a s t a n a l y s i s , as an a d a p t a t i o n of t r a d i t i o n a l t h e o l o g y t o t h e i n t e l l e c t u a l c l i m a t e produced b y m o d e m p h i l o s o p h y or science both n a t u r a l a n d p o l i t i c a l . The " s e c u l a r i z a t i o n " of t h e understanding of Providence c u l m i n a t e s in the v i e w t h a t the w a y s of God are scrutable to sufficiently enl i g h t e n e d men. The t h e o l o g i c a l t r a d i t i o n recognized the m y s terious character of Providence e s p e c i a l l y by the fact t h a t G o d uses or permits e v i l for h i s good ends. It asserted, therefore, t h a t man cannot t a k e h i s b e a r i n g s by God's providence but o n l y by G o d ' s l a w , w h i c h s i m p l y forbids man to do e v i l . In proportion as the p r o v i d e n t i a l order came to be regarded as i n t e l l i g i b l e to m a n , and therefore e v i l came to be regarded as e v i d e n t l y necessary or useful, the p r o h i b i t i o n a g a i n s t d o i n g e v i l lost i t s evidence. Hence v a r i o u s w a y s o f action w h i c h w e r e p r e v i o u s l y condemned as e v i l could n o w be regarded as good. T h e g o a l s of human action w e r e l o w e r e d . But it is p r e c i s e l y a l o w e r i n g of these g o a l s w h i c h modern p o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y consciously intended from i t s v e r y beginning. B u r k e w a s satisfied t h a t the French Revolution w a s thoro u g h l y e v i l . He condemned it as s t r o n g l y and as unqualifiedly as we t o d a y condemn the Communist revolution. He regarded i t a s possible t h a t the French R e v o l u t i o n , w h i c h conducted " a

318


w a r a g a i n s t a l l sects and a l l r e l i g i o n s , " m i g h t b e victorious and t h u s t h a t the r e v o l u t i o n a r y state m i g h t exist " a s a n u i sance on the e a r t h for several hundred y e a r s . " He regarded i t , therefore, as possible t h a t the v i c t o r y of the French R e v o l u tion m i g h t h a v e been decreed by Providence. In accordance w i t h h i s " s e c u l a r i z e d " understanding of Providence, he d r e w from t h i s the conclusion t h a t " i f the system of Europe, t a k i n g i n l a w s , manners, r e l i g i o n and p o l i t i c s " i s doomed, " t h e y , w h o persist in opposing t h i s m i g h t y current in h u m a n affairs . . . w i l l not be resolute and firm, but perverse and obstinate." B u r k e comes close to suggesting t h a t to oppose a t h o r o u g h l y e v i l current in human affairs is perverse if t h a t current is sufficiently powerful; he is o b l i v i o u s of the n o b i l i t y of l a s t - d i t c h resistance. He does not consider t h a t , in a w a y w h i c h no man can foresee, resistance in a forlorn position to the enemies of m a n k i n d , " g o i n g d o w n w i t h guns blazing and flag f l y i n g , " m a y contribute g r e a t l y t o w a r d keeping a w a k e the recollection of the immense l o s s sustained by m a n k i n d , m a y inspire and strengthen the desire and the hope for its recovery, and m a y become a beacon for those w h o h u m b l y c a r r y on the w o r k s of h u m a n i t y in a s e e m i n g l y endless v a l l e y of d a r k ness and destruction. He does not consider t h i s because he is too certain t h a t man can k n o w w h e t h e r a cause lost n o w is lost forever or t h a t man can understand sufficiently the meaning of a p r o v i d e n t i a l dispensation as d i s t i n g u i s h e d from the moral l a w . It is o n l y a short step from t h i s t h o u g h t of Burke to the supersession of the distinction between good and bad by the distinction between the progressive and the retrograde, or between w h a t i s and w h a t i s not i n h a r m o n y w i t h the h i s t o r i cal process. We are here c e r t a i n l y at the pole opposite to C a t o , w h o dared to espouse a lost cause. 1 0 3

W h e r e a s B u r k e ' s " c o n s e r v a t i s m " i s i n full agreement w i t h classical t h o u g h t , h i s interpretation of h i s " c o n s e r v a t i s m " 103. Works, III, 375, 393, 443; VIII, 510; Letters, p. 308.


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prepared an approach to h u m a n affairs w h i c h is even more foreign to c l a s s i c a l t h o u g h t than w a s the v e r y " r a d i c a l i s m " of the theorists of the French R e v o l u t i o n . P o l i t i c a l p h i l o s o p h y or p o l i t i c a l t h e o r y h a d been from i t s inception the quest for c i v i l s o c i e t y as it o u g h t to be. B u r k e ' s p o l i t i c a l t h e o r y i s , or tends to become, identical w i t h a t h e o r y of the B r i t i s h constit u t i o n , i . e . , a n attempt t o " d i s c o v e r the latent w i s d o m w h i c h p r e v a i l s " i n the a c t u a l . One m i g h t t h i n k t h a t B u r k e w o u l d have to measure the B r i t i s h constitution by a standard transcending it in order to recognize it as w i s e , and to a certain e x tent he u n d o u b t e d l y does precisely t h i s : he does not tire of s p e a k i n g of n a t u r a l r i g h t , w h i c h , as such, is anterior to t h e B r i t i s h constitution. But he also s a y s t h a t " o u r constitution is a prescriptive constitution; it is a constitution w h o s e sole a u t h o r i t y is t h a t it h a s existed time out of m i n d " or t h a t t h e B r i t i s h constitution c l a i m s and asserts the liberties of the B r i t i s h " a s an estate e s p e c i a l l y belonging to the people of t h i s k i n g d o m , w i t h o u t a n y reference w h a t e v e r to a n y other more general or prior r i g h t . " Prescription cannot be the sole a u t h o r i t y for a constitution, and therefore recourse to r i g h t s anterior to the constitution, i . e . , to n a t u r a l r i g h t s , cannot be superfluous unless prescription by itself is a sufficient g u a r a n t y of goodness. Transcendent standards can be dispensed w i t h if the standard is inherent in the process; " t h e a c t u a l and the present is the r a t i o n a l . " W h a t could appear as a return to t h e p r i m e v a l equation of the good w i t h the ancestral i s , in fact, a preparation for H e g e l . 104

We h a v e noted before t h a t w h a t appeared l a t e r on as t h e discovery of H i s t o r y w a s o r i g i n a l l y r a t h e r the recovery of the distinction between t h e o r y and practice. T h a t distinction h a d been blurred by the doctrinairism of the seventeenth and e i g h t eenth centuries or, w h a t is f u n d a m e n t a l l y the same t h i n g , by 104. Works, II, 306, 359, 443; III, 110, 112; VI, 146; Hegel, op. cit., Vorrede; cf. also Barker, op. cit., p. 225.

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the understanding of a l l theory as e s s e n t i a l l y in the service of practice ( s c i e n t i a propter potentiam). The recovery of the distinction between t h e o r y and practice w a s from the outset modified by skepticism in regard to t h e o r e t i c a l m e t a p h y s i c s , a s k e p t i cism w h i c h c u l m i n a t e d in the depreciation of t h e o r y in favor of practice. In accordance w i t h these antecedents, the h i g h e s t form of practice—the foundation or formation of a p o l i t i c a l s o c i e t y — w a s v i e w e d as a q u a s i - n a t u r a l process not controlled by reflection; t h u s it could become a p u r e l y theoretical t h e m e . P o l i t i c a l t h e o r y became understanding of w h a t practice h a s produced or of the a c t u a l and ceased to be the quest for w h a t o u g h t to be; p o l i t i c a l theory ceased to be " t h e o r e t i c a l l y pract i c a l " ( i . e . , deliberative at a second r e m o v e ) and became p u r e l y t h e o r e t i c a l i n the w a y i n w h i c h m e t a p h y s i c s ( a n d p h y s i c s ) w e r e t r a d i t i o n a l l y understood to be p u r e l y t h e o r e t i c a l . There came into being a n e w type of t h e o r y , of m e t a p h y s i c s , h a v i n g a s i t s h i g h e s t theme h u m a n action and i t s product r a t h e r t h a n the w h o l e , w h i c h is in no w a y the object of human action. W i t h i n the w h o l e a n d the m e t a p h y s i c t h a t i s oriented upon i t , h u m a n action occupies a h i g h but subordinate place. W h e n m e t a p h y s i c s came, as it n o w did, to regard h u m a n action and i t s product a s t h e end t o w a r d w h i c h a l l other beings or processes are directed, m e t a p h y s i c s became p h i l o s o p h y of h i s t o r y . P h i l o s o p h y of h i s t o r y w a s p r i m a r i l y theo r y , i . e . , contemplation, of h u m a n practice and t h e r e w i t h necessarily of completed human p r a c t i c e ; it presupposed t h a t significant h u m a n action, H i s t o r y , w a s completed. B y becoming the h i g h e s t theme of p h i l o s o p h y , practice ceased to be practice proper, i . e . , concern w i t h agenda. The revolts a g a i n s t H e g e l i a n i s m on the part of K i e r k e g a a r d and Nietzsche, in so far as t h e y n o w exercise a strong influence on public opinion, thus appear as attempts to recover the p o s s i b i l i t y of practice, i . e . , of a h u m a n life w h i c h h a s a significant and undetermined future. But these attempts increased the confusion, since t h e y


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destroyed, as far as in them l a y , the v e r y p o s s i b i l i t y of t h e o r y . " D o c t r i n a i r i s m " and " e x i s t e n t i a l i s m " appear to us as the t w o f a u l t y extremes. W h i l e being opposed to each other, t h e y agree w i t h each other in the decisive respect—they agree in i g n o r i n g prudence, " t h e god of t h i s l o w e r w o r l d . " Prudence and " t h i s l o w e r w o r l d " cannot be seen properly w i t h o u t some k n o w l e d g e of " t h e h i g h e r w o r l d " — w i t h o u t genuine theoria. 1 0 6

A m o n g t h e g r e a t theoretical w r i t i n g s of the past, none seems to be nearer in spirit to B u r k e ' s statements on the B r i t i s h constitution than Cicero's Republic. The s i m i l a r i t y is a l l t h e more r e m a r k a b l e since Burke cannot h a v e k n o w n Cicero's masterpiece, w h i c h w a s not recovered u n t i l 1820. J u s t a s Burke regards the British constitution as the model, Cicero contends t h a t the best p o l i t y is t h e Roman p o l i t y ; Cicero chooses to describe the Roman p o l i t y r a t h e r t h a n to invent a n e w one, as Socrates had done in P l a t o ' s Republic. These contentions of B u r k e and of Cicero a r e , if t a k e n by themselves, in perfect agreement w i t h the classical principles : the best p o l i t y being e s s e n t i a l l y " p o s s i b l e , " it could h a v e become a c t u a l at some place and at some time. One should note, h o w e v e r , t h a t , w h e r e a s B u r k e assumed t h a t the model constitution w a s a c t u a l in h i s t i m e , Cicero assumed t h a t the best p o l i t y h a d been a c t u a l in the past but w a s no longer a c t u a l . Above a l l , Cicero made it perfectly clear t h a t the characteristics of the best p o l i t y can be determined w i t h o u t r e g a r d to a n y e x a m p l e , and e s p e c i a l l y to the example of the R o m a n p o l i t y . In the respect under discussion, there is no difference between Cicero and P l a t o in p a r t i c u l a r ; P l a t o commenced a sequel to h i s Republic, n a m e l y t h e Critias, in w h i c h the " i n v e n t e d " p o l i t y of t h e Republic w a s to be s h o w n to h a v e been ac tu al in the A t h e n i a n past. The f o l l o w i n g agreement between Burke and Cicero seems to be more important : just as Burke traced the excellence of the B r i t i s h constitution to the fact t h a t it h a d come i n t o 105. Works, II, 28.

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being " i n a great l e n g t h of t i m e " a n d thus embodies " t h e collected reason of a g e s , " Cicero traced the superiority of the R o m a n p o l i t y to the fact that it w a s not the w o r k of one man or of one generation but of m a n y men and m a n y generations. Cicero c a l l s the w a y in w h i c h the R o m a n order developed into the best p o l i t y , "some n a t u r a l r o a d . " S t i l l , " t h e v e r y idea of the fabrication of a n e w g o v e r n m e n t " did not fill Cicero, as it did B u r k e , " w i t h disgust and h o r r o r . " If Cicero preferred the R o m a n p o l i t y , w h i c h w a s the w o r k o f m a n y men and m a n y generations, t o the Spartan p o l i t y , w h i c h w a s the w o r k of one m a n , he did not deny t h a t the Spartan p o l i t y w a s respectable. In h i s presentation of the o r i g i n s of the R o m a n p o l i t y , R o m u l u s appears almost as the counterpart of L y c u r g u s ; Cicero did not abandon the notion t h a t c i v i l societies are founded by superior i n d i v i d u a l s . It is "counsel and t r a i n i n g " as opposed to chance t h a t Cicero understands to be the " n a t u r a l r o a d " b y w h i c h the Roman p o l i t y reached its perfection; he does not understand the " n a t u r a l r o a d " to be processes unguided by reflection. 106

Burke disagreed w i t h the classics in regard to the genesis of the sound social order because he disagreed w i t h them in regard to the character of the sound social order. As he s a w i t , the sound social or p o l i t i c a l order must not be "formed upon a r e g u l a r p l a n or w i t h a n y u n i t y of d e s i g n " because such " s y s t e m a t i c a l " proceedings, such "presumption in the w i s dom of human c o n t r i v a n c e s , " w o u l d be incompatible w i t h the h i g h e s t possible degree of " p e r s o n a l l i b e r t y " ; the state must pursue " t h e greatest v a r i e t y of e n d s " and must as l i t t l e as possible "sacrifice a n y one of them to another, or to the w h o l e . " It must be concerned w i t h " i n d i v i d u a l i t y " or h a v e the h i g h e s t possible r e g a r d for " i n d i v i d u a l feeling and i n d i v i d u a l intere s t . " It is for t h i s reason t h a t the genesis of the sound social 106. Cicero Republic i. 31-32, 34, 70-71; i i . 2-3, 15, 17, 21-22, 30, 37, 51-52, 66; v. 2; Offices i. 76. Consider also Polybius vi. 4. 13, 9. 10, 10. 12-14, 48. 2.


323

order must not be a process guided by reflection but must come as close as possible to n a t u r a l , imperceptible process: the natur a l is the i n d i v i d u a l , and the universal is a creature of the understanding. Naturalness and free flowering of i n d i v i d u a l i t y are the same. Hence the free development of the i n d i v i d u a l s in their i n d i v i d u a l i t y , far from l e a d i n g to chaos, is productive of the best order, an order w h i c h is not o n l y compatible w i t h "some i r r e g u l a r i t y in the w h o l e m a s s " but requires i t . There is beauty in i r r e g u l a r i t y : " m e t h o d and exactness, the soul of proportion, are found r a t h e r prejudicial t h a n serviceable to the cause of b e a u t y . " The quarrel between the ancients a n d the moderns concerns e v e n t u a l l y , and perhaps even from the beginning, the status of " i n d i v i d u a l i t y . " Burke himself w a s s t i l l too deeply imbued w i t h the spirit of "sound a n t i q u i t y " to a l l o w the concern w i t h i n d i v i d u a l i t y to overpower the concern w i t h v i r t u e . 1 0 7

107. Works, I, 117, 462; II, 309; V, 253-55.

INDEX Acton, Lord, 7 Aeschylus, 101 n. Ambrose, 247 n. Antiphon, 105 n, 109 n. Aristophanes, 93, 101 n. Aristotle, 8, 10 n., 15, 23, 28 n., 36, 41 n., 61 n., 82, 83 n., 86 n., 89 n., 93 n., 94,95 nn., 96nn., 97 nn., 100 n., 101 n., 102 n., 103 n., 105 n., 106 n., 107 n., 108 n., 116, 119 n., 120, 121, 127 n., 129 n., 130 n., 132 n., 1 3 3 n., 1 3 4 n., 135,137 n., 139 n., 140,143 n., 144-46, 1 5 1 , 152 n., 156-63, 167, 168, 172, 177, 183, 184 n., 187, 200 n., 252, 303, 311-12

Averroes, 158-59 Babeuf, 68 Bachofen, J. J . , 176 n. Bacon, 61 n., 179 n., 259 Barker, Ernest, 2 n . , 304 n., 315 n., 319 n. Bayle, Pierre, 91 n., 198-99 Beard, Charles, 92 Beccaria, 197 Bergbohm, Karl, 10 n. Burke, 70 n., 83 n., 138 n., 168, 183, 188, 294-323 Calvin, 58-62 Carneadcs, 168, 196 n. Cathrein, Victor, 94 n. Charnwood, Lord, 70 n. Churchill, 70 n., 308 Cicero, 83 n., 84 n., 92 n., 95 nn., 97 n., 98 nn., 103 nn., 105 n., 107 nn., 109 n., 110 n., I l l n., 120 n., 121 n., 122 n., 127 n., 130 nn., 1 3 2 n., 1 3 4 n., 1 3 5 , 143, 145 n., 146 n., 148 n.,

96 nn., 106 n., 114 n., 129 n., 137 n., 150 n.,

151 n., 152 n., 153-56, 163, 167, 168,

184 n., 321-22

196 n.,

237 n., 258 n., 295,

Cobban, Alfred, 290 n. Condorcet, 269 n. Copcland, Thomas W., 316 n. Cossa, Luigi, 241 n. Cumberland, Richard, 222 n., 223 n. Cynics, 146, 154 Democritus, 170, 172 Descartes, 13 n., 171 n., 187 , 202 n., 259, 264-65 Dilthey, Wilhelm, 261 n. Diogenes, Laertius, 95 n., 110 n., 143 n., 146 n. Dodge, G. H., 300 n. Engels, Friedrich, 176 n. Epicurus, 109-13, 154, 168, 169, 170, 172, 177 n., 188-89, 264-65, 279, 311 Fichte, 279 Figgis, J. N., 182 n. Filmer, Sir Robert, 186 n., 215 Fortescue, 103 n. Fustel de Coulanges, 84 n. Gassendi, 111 n. Gentz, Friedrich von, 313 n. Gierke, Otto von, 2 n., 182 n. Gough, J. W., 212 n., 218 n., 220 n. Grene, David, 152 n. Grotius, Hugo, 94 n., 95 n., 130 n., 185 n., 191 n., 222 n., 223 n. Hegel, 29, 35, 96 n., 250, 279, 315 n., 319, 320 Heraclitus, 93, 101 n. Herder, 15 n. Herodotus, 83 n., 85 Hobbes, 9 n., 61 n., 95 n., 110 n., I l l n., 114, 120 n., 166-202, 210, 211, 214 n., 216 n., 218, 221, 222, 223 n., 227-33, 234, 235, 241 n., 244 n., 247 n., 24850, 252, 266-82, 286 n., 295

324

INDEX Hodgkin, Thomas, 242 n. Homer, 90 n. Hooker, Richard, 153 n., 165-66, 207, 215 n., 218, 221-22, 223 n., 286 n. Hume, 20, 3 1 2 Isocrates, 130 n., 132 n., 137 n. Jurieu, 300 n. Kant, 15 n., 20, 43, 60 n., 77, 96 n., 182 n., 193-94, 255 n., 263 n., 279, 316 Kelsen, Hans, 4 n. Kierkegaard, 3 2 0 Klein, Jacob, 78 n.

325

Plato, 9 n . , 11, 12, 15, 26, 35, 36, 5 8 , 82 n., 83 n., 84-85, 86 n., 89 n., 91 n., 93 n., 95 n., 96 nn., 97 nn., 98 n., 101 nn., 102 n., 103 nn., 105 n., 106 n., 107 nn., 108, 109, 111 n., 114-17, 11921, 122 n., 125, 126 n., 127 n., 129 n., 130 n., 132 n., 1 3 3 n., 1 3 4 n., 135, 137 n., 139, 140, 143 n., 144, 145, 14656, 162, 163, 167, 168, 170, 172, 177 n., 199, 208, 252, 256 n., 267 n., 313 n., 321 Plutarch, 167, 252, 294 Polybius, 96 n., 140 n., 143 n., 322 n. Protagoras, 117, 168 Pythagoras, 1 2 0 n.

Leibniz, 94 n. Lessing, 22 Locke, 9 n., 99 n., 165-66, 184 n., 197 n., 202-51, 2 5 2 , 275, 279 n., 280, 282, 284, 286 n., 312 Lucretius, 112-14, 168, 264, 271 n.

Raynal, Abbe, 271 Reinhardt, Karl, 90 n. Rommen, Heinrich, 144 n. Rousseau, 9 n . , 14, 94 n., 107 n., 183, 252-95, 312, 315 Russell, Lord Bertrand, 199 n.

Macaulay, 207 Machiavelli, 4, 61 n., 138 n., 161-62, 177-80, 182, 187, 190 Macpherson, C. B., 234 n. Madison, James, 245 Maimonides, 83 n. Malebranche, 190 n. Marlowe, 177 Marsilius of Padua, 9 n., 158 Marx, Karl, 143 Melanchthon, 110 n. Mendelssohn, 15 n., 275 n. Mill, J. S., 138 n. Milton, 144 n. Montaigne, 146 n., 185 n. Montesquieu, 9 n., 164, 256, 277, 286 n., 300 n.

Salmasius, 195 n. Scncca, 151 n., 167 Sextus, Empiricus, 95 n., 97 n., 146 n. Socinus, Faustus, 94 n., 198 n. Socrates, 6, 36, 42, 85, 93, 118, 119, 12026, 135, 141, 146-56, 165-68, 208, 255, 262-63, 277 Sophists, 115-18, 168 Soto, D., 185 n. Spinoza, 94 n., 169 n., 171 n., 210, 211, 230 n., 272, 279 n. Stahl, Fr. J . , 191 n. Stark, W., 242 n. Stintzing, R., 153 n. Stoics, 15, 83 n., 120, 135, 146-56, 163, 165, 169 n. Suarez, 185 n., 222 n., 286 n., 295 Swift, 252

Morel, Jean, 264 n., 267 n., 271 o. Newton, 259 Nietzsche, 26, 65, 195, 253, 3 2 0 Nominalism, 174 Palgravc, 235 n. Parmenides, 91 n. Pascal, 83 n.

Tacitus, 167 Tawney, R. H., 61 n. Theophrastus, 261 Thomas Aquinas, 7, 8, 70 n., 89 nn., 93 n., 120, 132 n., 134 n., 135 n., 140 n., 143 n., 144 n., 145 n., 146, 152 n., 157, 1 5 9 , 163-64, 165, 185 n., 195 n., 222 n., 223 n., 296

326


Thrasymachus, 6, 107 n., 114 Thucydides, 58, 109 n., 134 n. Troeltsch, Ernst, 2 n., 61 n. Ulpian, 144, 266 Voltaire, 22, 207 Weber, Max, 36-78

Whitehead, A. N., 89 n. Wyclif, 185 n. Xenocrates, 267 n. Xenophon, 84 n., 86 n., 97 n., 101 nn., 105 n., 106 n., 107 n., 109 n., 119 n., 121 nn., 122 n., 129 n., 134 n., 135 n., 137 n., 140 n., 143 n., 148 n., 150 n.

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Bowerbirds (Australian Natural History)

A Natural History of California (California Natural History Guides)

The Foundation Trilogy: Foundation, Foundation and Empire, Second Foundation

Foundation 6 - Foundation and Earth

Foundation 02 Foundation and Empire

Foundation 3 - Foundation and Empire

Foundation 4 Foundation and Empire

Foundation and Empire (Foundation Novels)

Foundation 7 Foundation and Earth

Foundation: The History of England

Six lectures on modern natural philosophy

Six Lectures on Modern Natural Philosophy

Six Lectures on Modern Natural Philosophy

Natural Right and History (Walgreen Foundation Lectures)