Moral Phenomena - Volume 1

WHEN once the general task of ethics is established, the more special question arises: Of what kind of morality ought it to treat? Is there then a unitary morality? Should we make that of our own time and country our point of departure? Or are we to go farther back and grasp the morality of Christendom which binds us to other peoples and ages? If one accedes to such an extension of the basis of orientation, one cannot stop short at any historically empirical boundary. Beyond the morality of “Love thy neighbour” one must survey the morality of “an eye for an eye.” But then the field of the phenomena will become boundless. The ethics of Spinoza, Kant and Nietzsche, the classical ethics of the Greeks, the Stoic and Epicurean ideal of the wise man, the transcendant morality of Plotinus and the Church Fathers, yes, the moralities of the Hindus and Chinese—it makes no difference whether near to us or remote, whether living or dead in the life of our time—each one claims to be the genuine ethical good of humanity, to become the subject-matter of analysis.

In the interest of objectivity the wide extent of this problem is justified and may not be arbitrarily narrowed, out of respect for one’s own condition or limitation. The task of philosophical ethics cannot consist of a more or less opportunistic selection from its multiplicity. But also it cannot waste itself in a mere juxtaposition of the details of the manifold. Yet the contradictions of these “moralities” forbid a simple comprehensive survey. Ethics must then be unitary in itself—it must be so in a sense more cogent than are other philosophical disciplines. In pure theory cleavages are due only to a lack of vision and comprehension; but in claims and commandments they constitute an inner conflict among themselves, involving their reciprocal nullification.

The unity of ethics is the fundamental demand which raises its voice categorically above the plurality of morals, a demand which stands above all strife of opinions, which is evident a priori and unconditionally, and is intolerant of any doubt. Its absolute singleness appears at the very threshold of the investigation, in conscious contrast to the plurality presented in the phenomena themselves. Therefore the problem is: How can philosophical ethics overcome the cleavages and the contradiction? How can it achieve a synthesis of that which in itself is antithetical? How is unity in ethics possible?

(b) CURRENT MORALITY AND PURE ETHICS

To look for the unity in direct opposition to the multiplicity would be in this case far too simplified a procedure. The latter must not be set up outside of, but taken up into, or have predominant scope within, the unity.

Within certain limits the analogy to the unity of truth may yield us support. Every age has its “current truths.” The physics of Aristotle was accepted, and that of Galileo “passed as truth.” But all those current truths must be distinguished from “the truth” as such, from the ideal requirement which every science of a given time itself sets up—a requirement which it only imperfectly fulfils, but for which philosophy seeks the criterion. In the same manner every age and every people has its “current morality”—by analogy with “positive science” one may well say its “positive morality.” It is always a system of accepted precepts, to which man subjects himself and which he recognizes as absolute.

Historically there is a morality of bravery, a morality of obedience, a morality of pride; likewise of humility, of power, of beauty, of strength of will, of manly loyalty, of compassion. But from every positive morality, ethics, as such, is to be distinguished by its universal ideal challenge of the good, as it is implied and is presupposed in every special morality. Its affair is to show what in general is good. Ethics seeks for the criterion of the good, which is lacking in the positive moralities.

What herein becomes immediately evident is the fact that the relation between current morality and ethics, in spite of all divergences, is from the very beginning an inner connection, a relation of subjection, indeed of ideal dependence. There is no current morality which would not have the tendency to be absolute morality. Indeed, a current morality in general has acceptance only so long as there is a living belief in its absoluteness.

Herein it does not differ from all the other departments of thought. All positive knowledge has the tendency to be absolute knowledge; every positive law the tendency to be “righteous” (ideal) law. Everywhere in the realm of the positive is already immanent a reference to the Idea. It is the inner condition of acceptance itself, i.e. of positiveness. But as the Idea of morality in general is nothing else than the concrete essence of ethics, one may say that every current morality has the tendency to be pure ethics; indeed, it believes itself to be pure ethics. And only so long as it so believes does it prevail.

But if the Idea of pure ethics is contained in every morality, one would think that within this there would be somehow contained the sought-for unity of ethics. But then the unity would have to be found in current morality itself—not outside of it and not in opposition to it. Not of course as though a constituent part was to be found in other constituent parts; for it is not a conscious ferment in the varying moral commandments. It is rather perhaps as if conditions, primary presuppositions, may be demonstrated, in so far as the subject-matter rests upon them in the order of fact (but not in the order of consciousness).

Then, too, there would be the possibility, by mere reflection upon the likenesses in all moral commandments, which are current or have once been current, to penetrate through to the unity of ethics.

The success of such a method would be certain if we might assume that the sought-for unity is something in itself simple, as it were, a point, and besides is still capable of being understood in its unity, or at least as a thing which can be exhausted in some few characteristics. But this is highly questionable. Certainly a very widespread prejudice prevails to the effect that the essence of the good is simple, is plainly comprehensible, easily understood, altogether rational. But the very fact of the multiplicity and contrariety of moral commandments ought to have raised doubts on this point. If one goes deeply into the investigation of the realm of values, the assumption becomes more and more doubtful with every step. Not as though one must here give up the search for unity of some kind or other; but unity can also be comprehensive, indeed it can in itself be relational, inmany ways articulated. But where it is a matter of grasping such unities, there it is indeed a question whether one can grasp them directly as such—that is, as unities; and consequently, even when one grasps them in their contents, whether one can also perceive the distinctive quality of their unity.

The ordinary fate of such a procedure, which starts with multiplicity, is the reverse: one succeeds only in grasping ever again the manifold; and one sees oneself obliged finally to seek the unity elsewhere. But if one grasps it from another quarter, then indeed the diversity permits of being comprehended under it. This is the old Platonic wisdom: Unity must be seen in advance, seen a priori. But then immediately arises the danger of finding the a priori perception in concrete opposition to the given multiplicity.

The question may accordingly be summed up as follows: Is there an a priori perception of what constitutes the unity of pure ethics in the multiplicity of the current moralities themselves?

But the question is still wider. The manifold of the moral consciousness is not exhausted in that of positive morality. The latter constitutes here, as it were, only one dimension of the organization, and indeed of an organization taken over empirically and only presented outwardly. In reality, then, not only do the views of different times and peoples diverge (not to mention those of the single philosophical systems rooted in them), but also, within these systems and moralities, clearly distinguishable ethical tendencies can be marked off from one another, tendencies which partly reappear in the various systems, partly are characteristic of particular views only, but which always somehow spring up interwoven with one another. Their classification, which one can reproduce only by hints in vague concepts, cuts across the other division; it stands, as it were, vertically upon it.

Thus there is a difference of principle between the morality of the community (the State) and of the individual; likewise between the morality of the man and the woman, and the child (ancient morality, for example, was almost exclusively that of the man); or between the morality of power, of justice and of love. Again, in another dimension lie such contrasts as the following:

(1) The morality of labour, of production—and that of moderation and contentedness with little;

(2) The morality of struggle, of competition, of expression of energy—and the morality of peace, of compromise, of charitableness;

(3) The morality of the highest or most secret desires—and that of the customary severe claims upon one, against which the inclinations and desires of our own nature revolt;

(4) The morality of authority, of subjection to recognized and accepted norms—and the responsibility of seeking, of watching for new norms, and of fighting for them (here, going-in-quest, understanding, and revolutionizing, are felt to be duties, and one assumes responsibility for what has been discovered and for the ideal one represents in one’s life);

(5) The morality of the present or of one’s own immediate environment—and the morality of the future, of the distant, of the ideal (to which the present and actual persons and relations are subordinated, indeed sacrificed);

(6) The morality of action in general, of the active life—and the morality of appraising values and enjoying them.

To these pairs of opposites might easily be added a long series of others. Within each one of them both tendencies are justifiable; both grow out of the fulness of circumstances themselves. They are all different but unavoidable directions in which the general tasks of life move, directions which show the autonomous points of view or ends of individual philosophies and which as such cannot at will be manæred, interchanged or brought down to a dead level.

(d) THE UNITY SOUGHT FOR AND THE INVESTIGATION OF VALUES

It is clear that ethics must not assume an attitude of exclusiveness or indifference towards any one of these directions. Every exclusiveness would make it particularistic and biased, it would set itself up, not above the current types of morality, but alongside of them. Yet it is inherent in the Idea of ethics to stand above them, to be their unity.

But how do heterogeneous claims permit of being unified? Here one can no longer appeal to the fact that the multiplicity is something merely empirical, therefore “accidental.” It proves also to be untrue that the deficiency is merely in the reflection upon unity, in the consciousness of it, while the unity itself inheres implicitly in reality. This point is no longer the question, because the specific types are by no means empirically apprehended; from the essence of the matter it is clear that every type as such, with its peculiar kind of claim, is entirely a priori. The unity therefore can only be a synthetical unity existing above the specific claims. Every one of these directions in morality implies a highest end of life of its own; but every one of these ends lays claim to a superior rank. It ignores the like claims of the rest which in themselves are equally justified, it denies its own co-ordination with them. It comes forward in exclusiveness as a tyrant, it has an evident tendency to overthrow the others, even sometimes to annihilate them. How then could the unitary, universal end be imposed upon the manifold?

And yet this very kind of assertion on the part of individual ends is a proof of the necessity of a unity of ends in general. To be a unity is of the very essence of striving. But ends are points of guidance in striving. As in space a human being cannot go two ways at once, but is compelled to choose one, so on the spiritual and moral plane he cannot strive in two directions at once, let alone in more than two. One he must choose. Plurality of supreme ends tears him to pieces, causes him to lose his unity, to be split up, to be inconsequent and to falter. It paralyses his energy and with it the striving itself. Unity of purpose is a fundamental requirement of the moral life. Therefore all ends which are capable of being pursued, all positive norms, commandments and types of morality, are necessarily exclusive and tyrannical. They must be so because otherwise they would defeat themselves. Their presumption may well be a limitation, but it is not arbitrariness, it is rather an unavoidable consequence.

And for the same reason, on the elevated plane of the ethical problem also, the dominating unity of the ends is an unavoidable consequence. It is a far more categorical demand than the unity of principles in the domain of theory. This latter unity is merely a supreme postulate of reason, of comprehension. But unity of end is a postulate of life and of conduct. Without it no step in life could be taken with conviction.

Actually therefore we do not possess a unity of ends. It is unknown. If one accordingly takes up in earnest the demand for unity, one must be clear on this point, that here the supreme insight is itself still lacking. And since we confront multiplicity as an objective phenomenon, the only possible way of solving the problem is to make this phenomenon our point of departure. It must therefore be asked: Do connections, references, binding relations exist among values and norms? Are moral commandments really disparate? Or can links, attachments, conditions and dependencies be pointed out among them? Even if there be no claim to unity, does there exist at least a gradation of moral claims among them, and a principle of gradation? But this question when applied to the unity of ends is equivalent to asking: Is there a system of ends? And inasmuch as values stand behind all ends—for only what appears to a man as valuable can he convert into an end—the question is transformed into one which is more general, more objective and much wider in outlook: Is there a system of values?

This question fixes the limit of the problem which we have before us. The order, or its principles, the system, would be the unity sought for. A unity can be only the unity of a system, for it must not exclude anything. It must be single without being tyrannical. The question is a typical one as to system.

Thus the investigation of values, even before it begins, is burdened with the most difficult task imaginable.