Paradox 3

Paradox III

Wrong actions are equal, and so are right actions.

SECTION 20

Chapter 1

“The matter is small,” someone says. But the fault is great. Wrongdoing must be measured not by the outcome of events but by the faults of human beings. The thing involved in a wrong may be greater or smaller in one case than another; the wrongdoing itself, whichever way you turn, is one and the same. Whether a helmsman wrecks a ship loaded with gold or one loaded with straw makes a considerable difference to the cargo, but none to the helmsman’s incompetence. Lust has led a man astray with an obscure woman: the suffering touches fewer people than if he had violated a well-born maiden of noble family. Yet he has done no less wrong, if doing wrong is like crossing a boundary. Once you have crossed it, the fault has been committed; how far you proceed after crossing does nothing to increase the fault of crossing itself. Certainly no one is permitted to do wrong. And what is not permitted is condemned on this ground alone: that it is shown to be impermissible. If this can never be greater or smaller, since the wrong consists in its not being permitted—a condition always one and the same—then the wrong actions arising from it must be equal.

SECTION 21

But if the virtues are equal to one another, the vices must also be equal. And it is very easy to see that the virtues are equal: no one can become better than a good man, more self-controlled than a self-controlled man, braver than a brave man, or wiser than a wise man. Would you call someone good if, with no witness present, he returned ten pounds of gold entrusted to him, though he could have pocketed it with impunity, but would not do the same with ten thousand pounds? Or would you call someone self-controlled who restrained one desire but gave another free rein?

SECTION 22

Virtue is a single, enduring consistency in harmony with reason. Nothing can be added to make it more fully virtue; nothing can be taken away while leaving it the name of virtue. For if good actions are right actions, and nothing is more right than right, then certainly nothing can be found better than good. It follows that the vices too are equal, if distortions of the soul are rightly called vices. Moreover, since the virtues are equal, right actions, because they proceed from virtues, must be equal; likewise, wrong actions, because they flow from vices, must necessarily be equal.

SECTION 23

Chapter 2

“You get these ideas from philosophers,” someone says. I was afraid you would say from pimps. “Socrates used to argue that way.” By Hercules, that is welcome news! For tradition tells us that he was a learned and wise man. Still, let me ask you, since we are contending with words, not fists: should we inquire what porters and laborers have thought, or what the most learned men have thought? Especially when no view can be found that is truer than this one, or even more useful to human life. For what force could more effectively restrain people from every kind of wickedness than their recognizing that there is no distinction among offenses? That they do equal wrong whether they assault private citizens or magistrates? That whatever household they defile with sexual misconduct, the stain of lust is the same?

SECTION 24

“Does it make no difference, then”—for someone will say this—“whether a man kills his father or a slave?” If you present the acts stripped of their circumstances, I cannot readily judge their character. If depriving a father of life is a crime in itself, then the Saguntines, who preferred that their parents die free rather than live as slaves, were murderers of their parents. Thus a parent can sometimes be deprived of life without a crime, while a slave often cannot be deprived of life without injustice. It is the circumstances, then, not the nature of the act, that make the distinction. Whichever act they attach to weighs more heavily; if they attach to both, the acts must be equal.

SECTION 25

There is, however, this difference: in killing a slave, if it is done unjustly, a man commits one wrong; in attacking his father’s life, he commits many. He wrongs the man who brought him into the world, the man who nourished him, the man who educated him, the man who established him in a home, a household, and the commonwealth. His offense exceeds the other in the number of wrongs and therefore deserves a greater punishment. Yet in life we should consider not what punishment belongs to each offense, but how much license anyone has to commit it. Whatever ought not to be done we must regard as criminal; whatever is not permitted, as an outrage against what is sacred. Even in the smallest matters? Yes, for even if we cannot set a limit to the scale of events, we can keep our minds within bounds.

SECTION 26

If an actor moves even slightly out of rhythm, or a line is spoken one syllable too short or too long, he is hissed and driven from the stage. And in life, which ought to be more measured than any gesture, more harmonious than any verse, will you say that your error amounted to a syllable? I will not hear such a plea from a poet over mere trifles; shall I hear it from a citizen in our common life, counting out his offenses on his fingers? Let them be shorter, if you like; how can they seem lighter? Every wrong is committed through a disruption of reason and order; and once reason and order have been disrupted, nothing can be added that would seem to make the wrongdoing greater.

Paradox III

All wrong deeds are equal; all right deeds are equal too.

SECTION 20

Chapter 1

Someone says, “It's only a little thing.” But there's a serious fault. Don't measure wrongdoing by how things turn out. Measure it by the faults in the people doing it. The thing they do wrong over can be larger in one case and smaller in another. The act of doing wrong is the same whichever way you look at it. If a pilot capsizes a ship, it matters to the property owners whether the cargo is gold or straw. It makes no difference to how incompetent the pilot is. A man's sexual desire goes astray with an unknown woman. Fewer people suffer than if he had behaved outrageously toward a girl from a distinguished, noble family. But he has done just as much wrong. Doing wrong is like stepping over a line: once you've crossed, you've committed the fault. Walking further after crossing doesn't add to the fault of crossing. No one, surely, has permission to do wrong. When something isn't allowed, establishing that it isn't allowed is enough to condemn it. That fact can't ever be larger or smaller. The wrongdoing lies in acting without the right to do so, which is always the same thing. The wrong deeds that come from it must therefore be equal.

SECTION 21

If the virtues match one another, the vices have to match too. It's easy to see that the virtues match. A good man can't be made better than good, a restrained man more restrained, a brave man braver, or a wise man wiser. Would you call a man good because he returned ten pounds of gold that someone had left in his keeping, with no witness there, even though he could have made off with it safely—if he wouldn't do the same with ten thousand pounds? Would you call him restrained if he held back one desire but let another run wild?

SECTION 22

Virtue is one steady consistency, maintained without a break and agreeing with reason. You can't add something that makes it more virtuous. You can't take something away and still leave it entitled to be called virtue. If a good deed is a right deed, and nothing can be more right than right, then nothing can be better than good either. So the vices must also be equal, if we are right to call them distortions of the mind. Since the virtues are equal, the right deeds that arise from them must match. And since wrong deeds come from vices, they have to be equal as well.

SECTION 23

Chapter 2

“You've got that from philosophers,” someone says. I was afraid you'd say from pimps. “Socrates argued like that.” By Hercules, that's good to hear! The accounts handed down to us describe him as learned and wise. But let me ask you a question. We're competing with words rather than fists: should we investigate the views of porters and laborers, or those of the most learned men? Especially since we couldn't find a position more true than this, or even more useful for human life. What could keep people away from all wrongdoing more effectively than realizing that offenses aren't different in kind? That an attack on an ordinary citizen is just as wrong as an attack on a magistrate? That bringing sexual disgrace into any home leaves the same stain of lust?

SECTION 24

Someone is bound to say, “Then are you saying it makes no difference whether you kill your father or a slave?” State the acts without any circumstances and I can't easily decide what they amount to. If ending a father's life is criminal in itself, the people of Saguntum murdered their parents: they chose to let them die free rather than go on living in slavery. So it is sometimes possible to take a parent's life without a crime, and often impossible to take a slave's life without doing an injustice. The reason for the act makes the distinction, not its nature. Add that reason to one side and it weighs more. Attach it to both, and the two must balance.

SECTION 25

There is one difference. Killing a slave unjustly involves one wrong. Attacking your father's life involves many. You injure the person who gave you life, who fed you, who taught you, and who gave you your place in a home, a household, and the republic. More wrongs have been done, so the punishment deserved is greater. But we should judge our conduct by how far we have a right to act, not by the penalty attached to each offense. We should treat everything we ought not to do as criminal, and every forbidden act as a violation of what is sacred. Even the tiniest matters? Yes. We may not be able to set limits to the things involved, but we can set limits to our minds.

SECTION 26

Let an actor's movement fall slightly out of time, or a line come out one syllable too long or short, and he's hissed and booed away. Your life should be more carefully measured than any stage movement and better fitted together than any verse. Will you claim your error in life was only a syllable? I won't hear a poet make that excuse over trifles. Should I hear it from a citizen, counting out his offenses on his fingers in the life we share? Call them shorter if you want. How can that make them any lighter? Every wrong involves throwing reason and order into confusion. Once that has happened, nothing extra can be added that would make the wrongdoing more wrong.