Part II, Section I, Chapter I

Part II: On MERIT and DEMERIT; or, the Objects of REWARD and PUNISHMENT. IN THREE SECTIONS.

Section I: On the sense of merit and demerit. INTRODUCTION. Besides the propriety or impropriety, the grace or awkwardness, of human actions and conduct, another set of qualities belongs to them, and these are the objects of another kind of approval or disapproval. They are merit and demerit: the qualities of deserving reward and deserving punishment. We have already observed that the feeling or affection of the heart from which an action proceeds, and on which all its virtue or vice depends, can be considered in two ways, or in two relations: first, in relation to the cause or object that arouses it; second, in relation to the end it proposes or the effect it tends to produce. The propriety or impropriety, the grace or awkwardness, of the resulting action depends on how suitable or unsuitable, how proportionate or disproportionate, the affection seems to the cause or object that arouses it. The merit or demerit, the good or ill desert, of the action it occasions depends on the beneficial or harmful effects that the affection proposes or tends to produce. In the preceding part of this work I explained what constitutes our sense of the propriety or impropriety of actions. We now turn to what constitutes our sense of their good or ill desert.

Whatever appears to be a proper object of gratitude appears to deserve reward; likewise, whatever appears to be a proper object of resentment appears to deserve punishment.

To us, then, an action must appear to deserve reward if it appears to be the proper and approved object of the feeling that most immediately and directly moves us to reward someone, or to do good to them. Likewise, an action must appear to deserve punishment if it appears to be the proper and approved object of the feeling that most immediately and directly moves us to punish someone, or inflict harm upon them.

The feeling that most immediately and directly moves us to reward is gratitude; the feeling that most immediately and directly moves us to punish is resentment.

To us, then, an action must appear to deserve reward if it appears to be the proper and approved object of gratitude; on the other hand, it must appear to deserve punishment if it appears to be the proper and approved object of resentment.

To reward is to recompense, to repay, to return good for good received. To punish is also to recompense, to repay, though in another way: it is to return harm for harm done.

Besides gratitude and resentment, other passions concern us with the happiness or misery of others, but none so directly stir us to become the instruments of either. The love and esteem that arise from acquaintance and habitual approval necessarily make us glad for the good fortune of someone who inspires those agreeable feelings, and consequently willing to help bring it about. Yet our love is fully satisfied even if his good fortune comes about without our help. That passion wishes only to see him happy; it does not care who made him prosperous. Gratitude cannot be satisfied in this way. If the person to whom we owe much becomes happy without our help, our love is pleased, but our gratitude is not content. Until we have repaid him, until we ourselves have helped advance his happiness, we still feel burdened by the debt his past services laid upon us.

Likewise, the hatred and dislike that grow out of habitual disapproval would often make us take malicious pleasure in the misfortune of a man whose conduct and character stir such painful feelings. But though dislike and hatred harden us against all sympathy, and sometimes even incline us to rejoice at another's distress, these passions would not naturally make us wish to cause it, unless resentment were involved—unless we or our friends had suffered some serious personal provocation. Even if we could fear no punishment for having a hand in his misfortune, we would rather it came about by other means. A man ruled by violent hatred might perhaps be pleased to hear that the person he abhorred had died in an accident. But if he retained the least spark of justice, as he might despite this passion's hostility to virtue, it would deeply distress him to have caused that death himself, even unintentionally. The thought of deliberately contributing to it would shock him far more. He would recoil in horror even from imagining so detestable a plan; if he thought himself capable of such an outrage, he would begin to see himself in the same hateful light in which he saw the object of his dislike. Resentment is quite different. Suppose the man who gravely injured us—who murdered our father or brother, for example—soon afterward died of fever, or was even brought to the scaffold for another crime. His fate might soothe our hatred, but it would not fully satisfy our resentment. Resentment would move us to wish not only for his punishment, but for punishment brought about through us and imposed for the particular injury he did us. Resentment cannot be fully satisfied unless the offender is made to suffer in his turn, and to suffer specifically for the wrong we endured at his hands. He must be made to repent and regret that very deed, so that others, fearing a like punishment, will be deterred from committing a like offense. The natural satisfaction of this passion thus tends of itself to accomplish every public purpose of punishment: the correction of the criminal and a warning to the public.

Gratitude and resentment, then, are the feelings that most immediately and directly prompt reward and punishment. To us, accordingly, the person who is the proper and approved object of gratitude must appear to deserve reward; the person who is the proper and approved object of resentment must appear to deserve punishment.

Part II: On merit and demerit, or what deserves reward and punishment. In three sections.

Section I: On our sense of merit and demerit. Introduction. We judge human actions and conduct by another set of qualities besides propriety and impropriety, or decency and awkwardness. They call for a different kind of approval or disapproval. These qualities are merit and demerit: deserving reward and deserving punishment. As we have already seen, the feeling that leads a person to act, and determines whether the act is good or bad, can be viewed in two ways. First, we can consider its relation to the cause or object that stirs it. Second, we can consider the goal it aims at or the effect it tends to produce. If the feeling fits the cause that stirs it and is in proportion to that cause, the resulting action has propriety and decency. If it does not, the action is improper or awkward. If the feeling aims at or tends toward a helpful effect, the resulting action has merit and deserves good in return. If it aims at or tends toward harm, the action has demerit and deserves ill in return. I explained in the previous part what gives us our sense that actions are proper or improper. Now I will consider what gives us our sense that they deserve good or ill.

What seems to be a proper object of gratitude seems to deserve reward; likewise, what seems to be a proper object of resentment seems to deserve punishment.

In our eyes, an action deserves reward when it rightly calls forth a feeling we approve of, one that leads us most directly to reward someone or do that person good. Likewise, an action deserves punishment when it rightly calls forth a feeling we approve of, one that leads us most directly to punish someone or do that person harm.

Gratitude is the feeling that leads us most directly to reward. Resentment is the feeling that leads us most directly to punish.

So we see an action as deserving reward if it rightly calls forth gratitude that we approve of. Likewise, we see it as deserving punishment if it rightly calls forth resentment that we approve of.

Rewarding means repaying someone, giving good in return for good received. Punishing is also a kind of repayment, though of a different sort: it gives harm in return for harm done.

Other feelings besides gratitude and resentment make us care about other people's happiness or misery. But none makes us as directly want to bring about either one ourselves. Love and esteem grow through knowing a person and regularly approving of him. They make us happy when he prospers and willing to help him prosper. Yet we can be fully satisfied in our love even if he prospers without our help. Love wants to see him happy; it does not care who brings about his success. Gratitude is different. If someone to whom we owe a great deal becomes happy without our help, love may be pleased, but gratitude is not satisfied. Until we repay him and personally help make him happy, we still feel the weight of the debt we owe for his past services.

In the same way, repeated disapproval can grow into hatred and dislike. These feelings may make us take malicious pleasure in the misfortunes of someone whose character and conduct distress us. They make us less sympathetic and can even make us rejoice when he suffers. But if we have no resentment—if neither we nor our friends have been seriously wronged by him—we do not naturally want to cause his suffering ourselves. Even if taking part would bring us no punishment, we would rather the misfortune came by other means. Someone who fiercely hates a man might be pleased to hear that the man died in an accident. But if he had even a little sense of justice, as he still might despite his hatred, he would be deeply upset to have caused the death himself, even by accident. The thought of causing it deliberately would horrify him even more. He would reject such a terrible plan with horror. If he believed himself capable of it, he would start to see himself as just as hateful as the man he disliked. Resentment works differently. Suppose a man who seriously injured us—by murdering our father or brother, for example—soon died of a fever. Or suppose he was executed for a different crime. Either event might soothe our hatred, but it would not fully satisfy our resentment. Resentment makes us want him punished through our efforts and for the particular injury he did to us. We are not satisfied simply because he suffers in return. We want him to suffer for that very wrong. He must regret and repent of it, so that others will fear the same punishment and avoid the same offense. Satisfying this feeling naturally serves every public purpose of punishment: correcting the criminal and setting an example for everyone else.

Gratitude and resentment, then, are the feelings that most directly lead us to reward and punish. We see a person as deserving reward when he rightly calls forth gratitude we approve of. We see another as deserving punishment when he rightly calls forth resentment we approve of.