From John Stuart Mill Utilitarianism, Chapter II, final paragraphs
. . . mankind must by this time have
acquired positive beliefs as to
the effects of some actions on their happiness; and the beliefs
which have thus come
down are the rules of morality for the multitude, and for the
philosopher until he has
succeeded in finding better. That philosophers might easily do
this, even now, on many
subjects; that the received code of ethics is by no means of
divine right; and that
mankind have still much to learn as to the effects of actions on
the general happiness, I
admit, or rather, earnestly maintain. The corollaries from the
principle of utility, like the
precepts of every practical art, admit of indefinite
improvement, and, in a progressive
state of the human mind, their improvement is perpetually going
on.
But to consider the rules of morality as improvable, is one
thing; to pass over the
intermediate generalisations entirely, and endeavour to test
each individual action directly
by the first principle, is another. It is a strange notion that
the acknowledgment of a first
principle is inconsistent with the admission of secondary ones.
To inform a traveller
respecting the place of his. ultimate destination, is not to
forbid the use of landmarks and
direction-posts on the way. The proposition that happiness is
the end and aim of morality,
does not mean that no road ought to be laid down to that goal,
or that persons going
thither should not be advised to take one direction rather than
another. Men really ought
to leave off talking a kind of nonsense on this subject, which
they would neither talk nor
listen to on other matters of practical concernment. Nobody
argues that the art of
navigation is not founded on astronomy, because sailors cannot
wait to calculate the
Nautical Almanack. Being rational creatures, they go to sea with
it ready calculated; and
all rational creatures go out upon the sea of life with their
minds made up on the common
questions of right and wrong, as well as on many of the far more
difficult questions of
wise and foolish. And this, as long as foresight is a human
quality, it is to be presumed
they will continue to do. Whatever we adopt as the fundamental
principle of morality, we
require subordinate principles to apply it by; the impossibility
of doing without them, being
common to all systems, can afford no argument against any one in
particular; but gravely
to argue as if no such secondary principles could be had, and as
if mankind had remained
till now, and always must remain, without drawing any general
conclusions from the
experience of human life, is as high a pitch, I think, as
absurdity has ever reached in
philosophical controversy.
The remainder of the stock arguments against utilitarianism mostly consist
in laying to its
charge the common infirmities of human nature, and the general
difficulties which
embarrass conscientious persons in shaping their course through
life. We are told that a
utilitarian will be apt to make his own particular case an
exception to moral rules, and,
when under temptation, will see a utility in the breach of a
rule, greater than he will see in
its observance. But is utility the only creed which is able to
furnish us with excuses for
evil doing, and means of cheating our own conscience? They are
afforded in abundance
by all doctrines which recognise as a fact in morals the
existence of conflicting
considerations; which all doctrines do, that have been believed
by sane persons. It is not
the fault of any creed, but of the complicated nature of human
affairs, that rules of
conduct cannot be so framed as to require no exceptions, and
that hardly any kind of
action can safely be laid down as either always obligatory or
always condemnable. There
is no ethical creed which does not temper the rigidity of its
laws, by giving a certain
latitude, under the moral responsibility of the agent, for
accommodation to peculiarities of
circumstances; and under every creed, at the opening thus made,
self-deception and
dishonest casuistry get in. There exists no moral system under
which there do not arise
unequivocal cases of conflicting obligation. These are the real
difficulties, the knotty
points both in the theory of ethics, and in the conscientious
guidance of personal
conduct. They are overcome practically, with greater or with
less success, according to
the intellect and virtue of the individual; but it can hardly be
pretended that any one will
be the less qualified for dealing with them, from possessing an
ultimate standard to which
conflicting rights and duties can be referred. If utility is the
ultimate source of moral
obligations, utility may be invoked to decide between them when
their demands are
incompatible. Though the application of the standard may be
difficult, it is better than
none at all: while in other systems, the moral laws all claiming
independent authority,
there is no common umpire entitled to interfere between them;
their claims to precedence
one over another rest on little better than sophistry, and
unless determined, as they
generally are, by the unacknowledged influence of considerations
of utility, afford a free
scope for the action of personal desires and partialities. We
must remember that only in
these cases of conflict between secondary principles is it
requisite that first principles
should be appealed to. There is no case of moral obligation in
which some secondary
principle is not involved; and if only one, there can seldom be
any real doubt which one it
is, in the mind of any person by whom the principle itself is
recognised.