Part I, Chapter XV, 1

OF OTHER LAWS OF NATURE

From the Law of Nature obliging us to transfer to another those rights which, if retained, obstruct the peace of mankind, follows a third: people must perform the covenants they have made. Without this, covenants are vain, mere empty words; and because everyone's right to everything remains, we are still in a condition of war.

In this Law of Nature lies the source and origin of justice. Where no covenant has come before, no right has been transferred, everyone has a right to everything, and therefore no action can be unjust. But once a covenant is made, to break it is unjust; and injustice is nothing other than failure to perform a covenant. Whatever is not unjust is just.

Justice and property begin with the establishment of a Common-wealth. But covenants founded on mutual trust, when either party fears the other's failure to perform, are invalid, as I said in the preceding chapter. Thus, although the making of covenants is the origin of justice, there can be no actual injustice until the cause of that fear has been removed, and this cannot happen while people remain in the natural condition of war. Before the terms just and unjust can apply, there must therefore be a coercive power that compels people equally to perform their covenants, through fear of a punishment greater than the benefit they expect from breaking them, and that guarantees the property people acquire by mutual contract in exchange for the universal right they relinquish. No such power exists before the establishment of a Common-wealth. This can also be gathered from the usual definition of justice in the schools: they say, “Justice is the constant will to give every person what is their own.” Where there is nothing one's own—that is, no property—there is no injustice; and where no coercive power has been established—that is, where there is no Common-wealth—there is no property, because everyone has a right to everything. Therefore, where there is no Common-wealth, nothing is unjust. The nature of justice consists in keeping valid covenants; but covenants become valid only with the establishment of a civil power sufficient to compel people to keep them. That is also when property begins.

The fool has said in his heart that there is no such thing as justice, and sometimes said it aloud as well. He argues in earnest that, since each person's preservation and satisfaction are entrusted to that person's own care, there is no reason why anyone should not do whatever seems conducive to them. Therefore making or not making covenants, and keeping or not keeping them, cannot be against reason when it serves one's benefit. He does not deny that covenants exist, that they are sometimes broken and sometimes kept, or that breaking them can be called injustice and observing them justice. Rather, he asks whether injustice, if we set aside the fear of God (for this same fool has said in his heart that there is no God), might sometimes accord with the reason that directs everyone toward their own good—especially when it brings such an advantage that one can disregard not only others' blame and abuse but also their power. The Kingdom of God is taken by violence; but what if it could be taken by unjust violence? Would it be against reason to take it that way, when doing so could not possibly cause harm? And if it is not against reason, then it is not against justice, unless justice is not to be esteemed a good. Reasoning of this kind has won successful wickedness the name of virtue; some who condemn every other breach of faith nevertheless approve it when used to gain a kingdom. And the heathens who believed Saturn had been deposed by his son Jupiter nonetheless believed that Jupiter avenged injustice. Something similar appears in a passage of law in Coke's Commentaries on Littleton: he says that if the rightful heir to the Crown is convicted of treason, the Crown shall nevertheless descend to him, and Eo Instante the conviction shall be void. From these examples a person may readily infer that if the heir apparent to a kingdom kills its occupant, even if that occupant is his father, one may call it injustice or whatever else one likes, but it can never be against reason. For all voluntary human actions aim at the benefit of their agents, and the most reasonable actions are those best suited to their ends. Yet this plausible reasoning is false.

The question does not concern mutual promises where neither party has assurance of performance, as when no civil power has been established over the parties promising; such promises are not covenants. The question arises instead where one party has already performed, or where there is a power to compel performance: is it against reason, that is, against the other party's benefit, to perform or not? I say it is not against reason to perform. To make this clear, we should first consider that when someone does something that, by everything foreseeable and calculable, tends to destroy him, a chance event he could not expect may turn it to his advantage, but such an outcome does not make the act reasonable or wise. Second, in a condition of war, where for lack of a common power to keep all in awe everyone is everyone else's enemy, no one can hope to defend himself from destruction by strength or wit alone, without allies. Everyone expects the same defense from their alliance as everyone else. A person who declares that he thinks it reasonable to deceive those who help him can reasonably expect no means of safety except his own unaided power. Therefore a person who breaks his covenant, and thus declares that he believes he can reasonably do so, cannot be admitted into any society united for peace and defense except through the error of those who admit him; nor, once admitted, can he be kept in it unless they fail to see their error's danger. He cannot reasonably count on such errors as his means of safety. If he is excluded or expelled from society, he perishes; if he lives in society, it is through errors of others that he could neither foresee nor count on, and thus contrary to the reason of his preservation. All who do not contribute to his destruction leave him alone only through ignorance of their own good.

As for the example of attaining the secure and perpetual happiness of heaven by any means whatever, it is frivolous: only one way is imaginable, and it consists not in breaking a covenant but in keeping it.

As for the other example, attaining sovereignty by rebellion: plainly, even if it succeeds, success could not reasonably have been expected—rather, the contrary could—and success teaches others to gain sovereignty by the same means. The attempt is therefore against reason. Justice, then, which is keeping covenants, is a rule of reason forbidding us to do anything destructive of our life, and consequently a Law of Nature.

Some go further and refuse to recognize as Laws of Nature those rules conducive to preserving human life on earth; they recognize only rules leading to eternal happiness after death. They think breaking a covenant may serve that end and may therefore be just and reasonable. Such people believe it meritorious to kill, depose, or rebel against the sovereign power established over them by their own consent. But since there is no natural knowledge of the human condition after death, still less of any reward then given for breach of faith—only belief founded on the claims of other people that they know it supernaturally, or know people who knew people who knew others who knew it supernaturally—breach of faith cannot be called a precept of reason or nature.

Others accept keeping faith as a Law of Nature but make exceptions for certain people, such as heretics and those who do not customarily perform their covenants with others. This too is against reason. If someone's fault is sufficient to release us from a covenant already made with him, it should by the same reasoning have sufficed to prevent us from making it.

The words just and unjust mean one thing when applied to people and another when applied to actions. Applied to people, they signify whether their character conforms to reason. Applied to actions, they signify whether particular actions conform to reason, not whether a person's character or way of life does. A just person, then, takes every care that all his actions be just; an unjust person neglects to do so. In our language, such people are more often called righteous and unrighteous than just and unjust, though the meaning is the same. A righteous person does not lose that name through one or a few unjust actions arising from sudden passion or a mistake about things or people. Nor does an unrighteous person lose his character through acts he performs or refrains from performing out of fear, since his will is shaped not by justice but by the apparent advantage of what he is to do. What gives human actions the character of justice is a certain nobility or gallantry of courage, rarely found, which makes a person scorn to owe the satisfaction of his life to fraud or broken promises. This justice of character is what we mean when we call justice a virtue and injustice a vice.

But the justice of actions does not make people just, only guiltless; and the injustice of actions, also called injury, makes them guilty, but no more.

Again, injustice of character is the disposition or readiness to injure; it is injustice before it issues in an act, without presupposing any particular injured person. But the injustice of an action, that is, injury, presupposes a particular injured person: the person to whom the covenant was made. Thus the person injured is often not the one who suffers the damage. If a master commands his servant to give money to a stranger and the servant fails to do so, the injury is to the master, whom the servant had covenanted to obey, while the damage falls on the stranger, to whom the servant owed no obligation and whom he therefore could not injure. Likewise in Common-wealths, private individuals may forgive one another's debts, but not robberies or other acts of violence by which they suffer damage: withholding a debt injures themselves, but robbery and violence injure the person of the Common-wealth.

Whatever is done to someone in accordance with a will he has made known to the doer does not injure him. If the doer has not relinquished his original right to do as he pleases by a prior covenant, he has broken no covenant, and therefore caused no injury. If he has relinquished it, the other's stated wish that the act be done releases him from that covenant, so again there is no injury.

Writers divide the justice of actions into commutative and distributive justice, claiming that the first rests on arithmetical proportion and the second on geometrical proportion. They thus place commutative justice in an equality between the values of things exchanged under contract, and distributive justice in an equal distribution of benefit to people of equal merit, as though it were unjust to sell for more than one paid, or to give someone more than he deserves. The value of anything exchanged under contract is measured by the appetite of the contracting parties, so the just value is what they are willing to give. And merit—apart from merit arising by covenant, where one party's performance merits the other's, which belongs to commutative, not distributive, justice—is not owed as a matter of justice, but rewarded only by grace. This distinction is therefore mistaken in its usual interpretation. Properly speaking, commutative justice is the justice of a contracting party: performance of a covenant in buying and selling, hiring and letting, lending and borrowing, exchanging, bartering, and other contractual acts.

Distributive justice is the justice of an arbitrator: the act of determining what is just. If an arbitrator, trusted by those who appointed him, fulfills that trust, he is said to distribute to each person what is his own. His distribution is indeed just, and may be called, though improperly, distributive justice; more properly it is equity, which is also a Law of Nature, as will be shown in due course.

As justice depends on a prior covenant, so gratitude depends on prior grace, that is, a prior free gift. This is the fourth Law of Nature, which may be stated thus: “A person who receives a benefit from another's sheer generosity must endeavor to give the giver no reasonable cause to regret his goodwill.” No one gives without intending some good for himself, since a gift is voluntary, and every voluntary act has as its object some good of the agent. If people see this good will be denied them, there will be no beginning of benevolence or trust, and consequently no mutual help or reconciliation between people. They must then remain in a condition of war, contrary to the first and fundamental Law of Nature, which commands people to seek peace. Breach of this law is called ingratitude and bears the same relation to grace as injustice bears to obligation by covenant.

On other Laws of Nature

From the Law of Nature requiring us to give up rights that would obstruct peace if we kept them, a third law follows: people must keep the Covenants they have made. Without this rule, Covenants are useless words. Everyone still has a right to everything, and we remain in a state of war.

This Law of Nature is the source of justice. Where no Covenant has come first, nobody has given up any right. Everyone has a right to everything, so no action can be unjust. But once a Covenant has been made, breaking it is unjust. Injustice means nothing more than failing to keep a Covenant. Whatever is not unjust is just.

Justice and ownership begin when a Common-wealth is established. As I said in the previous chapter, Covenants based on mutual trust are invalid when either side fears the other will not perform. So although justice originates in making Covenants, there can be no actual injustice until the cause of that fear is removed. This cannot happen while people remain in the natural state of war. Before we can call anything just or unjust, there must be a power that can force everyone equally to keep their Covenants. It must threaten a punishment worse than any benefit from breaking them. It must also secure the ownership people acquire by mutual agreement in return for giving up their universal right. No such power exists before a Common-wealth is established. The standard definition taught in the schools supports this: “Justice is the steady will to give each person what belongs to him.” Where nothing belongs to anyone, there is no ownership and no injustice. Where there is no power to enforce rules—no Common-wealth—there is no ownership, since everyone has a right to everything. So where there is no Common-wealth, nothing is unjust. Justice consists in keeping valid Covenants. Covenants become valid only when a civil power strong enough to enforce them is established. Ownership begins then too.

The fool has said in his heart that justice does not exist, and sometimes says so aloud. He argues seriously that each person must look after his own safety and satisfaction. Why, then, should anyone not do whatever he thinks will help him? Making or refusing Covenants, and keeping or breaking them, would not be unreasonable if it benefited him. He does not deny that Covenants exist, that some are kept and some broken, or that we can call keeping them justice and breaking them injustice. He asks whether injustice, leaving aside fear of God (for this same fool has said in his heart that there is no God), may sometimes agree with the reason that directs each person toward his own good. This might especially seem true when it brings a benefit so great that he need not care about other people's criticism, insults, or even their power. The Kingdome of God is won by force. But suppose it could be won by unjust force: would taking it that way be unreasonable if no harm could come to the victor? If it is not unreasonable, it is not unjust—or else justice cannot be praised as good. Thinking this way has made successful wrongdoing seem like virtue. Some who condemn breaking promises in every other case approve it when it wins a kingdom. The pagans believed Jupiter overthrew his father Saturn, yet also believed Jupiter punished injustice. There is a similar point in Coke's Commentaries on Littleton. Coke says that even if the rightful heir to the Crown is convicted of treason, the Crown passes to him, and Eo Instante, at that instant, the conviction becomes void. These examples might tempt someone to conclude that if the heir apparent to a kingdom kills its current ruler, even his own father, the act may be called injustice or anything else but cannot be unreasonable. After all, people act voluntarily for their own benefit, and the most reasonable actions best achieve their aims. This attractive argument is false.

The question is not about mutual promises with no guarantee on either side, such as promises made when no civil power governs the parties. Those promises are not Covenants. The question arises when one party has already performed, or when there is a power that can compel performance. Is keeping the Covenant then contrary to the other party's own interests—in other words, contrary to reason? I say it is not. First, consider a person who does something that, by everything he could foresee and take into account, tends to destroy him. An unexpected event might turn the act to his advantage, but that does not make the choice reasonable or wise. Second, in a state of war everyone is everyone else's enemy because there is no common power to restrain them. Nobody can hope to protect himself from destruction by his strength or intelligence alone, without allies. Each ally expects as much protection from the alliance as anyone else. Therefore, someone who openly holds that it is reasonable to deceive his helpers can reasonably expect only the protection he can provide for himself. A man who breaks his Covenant and thereby declares that he thinks breaking it reasonable cannot join a society organized for peace and defense unless its members make a mistake in accepting him. Once admitted, he cannot remain unless they fail to see that mistake's danger. He cannot reasonably count on such errors to keep him safe. If excluded or expelled, he perishes. If he survives inside the society, it is thanks to other people's errors, which he could not foresee or count on. His choice is therefore contrary to the reason that favors his survival. Anyone who does not help destroy him spares him only because they do not know what is best for themselves.

The example of winning secure, everlasting happiness in heaven by any possible means is beside the point. There is only one imaginable way to reach it, and that is keeping a Covenant, not breaking one.

As for winning Soveraignty by rebellion, even if the attempt succeeds, success could not reasonably have been expected. Failure was more likely. Moreover, taking power that way teaches others to take it in the same way. So the attempt is contrary to reason. Justice, or keeping Covenants, is a rule of reason that forbids us to do anything destructive to our lives. It is therefore a Law of Nature.

Some go further. They say the Laws of Nature are not rules for preserving human life on earth but rules for gaining eternal happiness after death. They think breaking a Covenant can help achieve that happiness and can therefore be just and reasonable. Among them are those who think it meritorious to kill, depose, or rebel against the Soveraigne Power they themselves agreed to establish. But we have no natural knowledge of what happens to people after death, much less of any reward there for breaking faith. There is only belief in the words of people who say they know through supernatural means, or know people who knew people who knew others who did. Breaking faith cannot therefore be called a command of reason or nature.

Others agree that keeping faith is a Law of Nature but make exceptions for certain people, such as heretics and those who habitually break their Covenants with others. This, too, is contrary to reason. If someone's fault is enough to release us from a Covenant, it should also have been enough reason not to make that Covenant in the first place.

Calling people just or unjust is different from calling actions just or unjust. For people, the words describe whether their character and habits agree with reason. For actions, they describe whether specific acts, rather than a whole way of life, agree with reason. A just person does everything he can to make all his actions just; an unjust person neglects that duty. We more often call such people righteous and unrighteous, though the meaning is the same. A righteous person does not lose that description because of one or a few unjust acts arising from sudden Passions or from a mistake about people or circumstances. An unrighteous person does not lose his character because fear makes him act justly or refrain from injustice. His choices are guided by apparent advantage, not justice. What gives human actions a just character is a rare kind of noble courage: a refusal to rely on fraud or broken promises for satisfaction in life. This justice of character is what we mean when we call justice a virtue and injustice a vice.

But just actions make someone innocent rather than a just person. Unjust actions, also called injuries, make him guilty.

Again, an unjust character is a tendency or readiness to injure others. It is unjust before the person acts, even when no particular victim is identified. An unjust act, or injury, requires a particular injured person: the one to whom the Covenant was made. Thus one person often suffers the injury while another suffers the loss. Suppose a master orders his servant to give money to a stranger. If the servant fails, he injures the master, whom he had agreed to obey. The stranger suffers the loss but is not injured by the servant, who owed him nothing. Likewise, in Common-wealths, private people may forgive one another's debts, but they may not forgive robberies or other violent acts that harm them. Withholding a debt injures the private person; robbery and violence injure the person of the Common-wealth.

Nothing done to a person in accordance with a wish he has expressed to the doer injures him. If the doer has not already surrendered his original right to do as he likes by Covenant, he breaks no Covenant and commits no injury. If he has surrendered it, the other person's expressed wish releases him from the Covenant, so again he commits no injury.

Writers divide justice in actions into commutative and distributive justice. They say the first depends on arithmetic proportion and the second on geometric proportion. They locate commutative justice in equal values for things exchanged by contract, and distributive justice in equal rewards for people of equal merit. On that account it would be unjust to sell something for more than we paid or give a person more than he deserves. But the value of anything exchanged is measured by the desires of the people exchanging it. The just price is what they agree to pay. Apart from merit established by a Covenant, where one side's performance earns the other's performance and belongs to commutative rather than distributive justice, merit creates no claim under justice. It is rewarded only as a favor. The usual explanation of this division is therefore wrong. Strictly speaking, commutative justice is the justice of someone making an agreement: keeping a Covenant in buying and selling, hiring and renting, lending and borrowing, exchanging, bartering, and other contracts.

Distributive justice is the justice of an arbitrator: deciding what is just. The parties trust him to make that decision. If he honors their trust, he gives each person what belongs to him. This is a just distribution. It may be called distributive justice, though that is not the most accurate name; equity is more accurate. Equity is also a Law of Nature, as I will show later.

As justice depends on an earlier Covenant, gratitude depends on an earlier act of generosity, that is, a gift freely given. Gratitude is the fourth Law of Nature: “Someone who receives a benefit freely given by another must try to give the giver no reasonable cause to regret his goodwill.” Nobody gives without hoping for some good for himself. Giving is voluntary, and each person's own good is the aim of all his voluntary acts. If givers see that they will be disappointed, goodwill and trust will never begin. Neither will mutual help or reconciliation. People will remain in a state of war, against the first and fundamental Law of Nature, which commands them to seek peace. Breaking this law is called ingratitude. It relates to a free gift as injustice relates to an obligation created by a Covenant.