Section 15

The criterion of actions with moral worth.

The first task now would be to settle the empirical question: do acts of freely chosen justice and unselfish love of humanity—which may rise to nobility and magnanimity—occur in experience? Unfortunately, the question cannot be decided on purely empirical grounds. Experience always gives us only the deed; its impulses remain hidden. The possibility therefore always remains that an egoistic motive influenced a just or good action. I will not resort to the illegitimate device of appealing to the reader’s conscience here, in a theoretical inquiry. But I believe very few will doubt, or lack the conviction from their own experience, that people often act justly solely to keep another from suffering an injustice. Indeed, there are people in whom the principle of allowing others their due is, as it were, inborn: they deliberately wrong no one; they do not pursue their own advantage without qualification, but consider the rights of others as well; when obligations have been undertaken on both sides, they watch not only to see that the other person performs his part, but also that he receives his due, sincerely wishing that no one who deals with them should lose by it. These are the truly honest people, the few just people among the countless unjust. But such people do exist. Likewise, I think it will be granted that many a person helps and gives, works and forgoes, with no further intention in his heart than to help another whose need he sees. And that Arnold von Winkelried, when he cried, “Faithful, beloved confederates, remember my wife and child,” and then gathered into his arms as many enemy spears as he could hold, had some selfish purpose in mind—let anyone imagine it who can: I cannot. In §. 13 above I have already pointed to instances of freely chosen justice that cannot be denied without quibbling and obstinacy. But if someone should nevertheless insist on denying that any such actions occur, then, on his account, morality would be a science with no real object, like astrology and alchemy, and further debate over its foundation would be time lost. With him, then, I would be finished; I speak to those who acknowledge the reality of the matter.

It is therefore only actions of the kind described that are accorded moral worth in the proper sense. Their distinctive, characteristic feature is the exclusion of the kind of motive that otherwise calls forth all human actions: self-interested motives, in the broadest sense of the word. That is precisely why discovering a self-interested motive wholly destroys an action’s moral worth if it was the only motive, and diminishes that worth if it played a supporting part. The absence of all egoistic motivation is therefore the criterion of an action with moral worth. One might object that acts of pure malice and cruelty are not self-interested either. Yet it is obvious that these cannot be meant here, since they are the opposite of the actions under discussion. Anyone who insists on a rigorous definition may expressly exclude those actions by their essential feature: that they aim at another’s suffering. An additional mark of actions with moral worth, wholly inward and therefore less evident, is that they leave us with a certain satisfaction with ourselves, called the approval of conscience. Correspondingly, the opposite actions—acts of injustice and unkindness, and still more those of malice and cruelty—meet with the opposite inward judgment of ourselves. A further, secondary and incidental outward mark is that actions of the first kind win the approval and respect of uninvolved witnesses, while those of the second call forth the reverse.

We must now take actions with moral worth, defined in this way and acknowledged as facts, as the phenomenon before us that requires explanation. We must accordingly investigate what can move a human being to actions of this kind. If successful, this inquiry must necessarily bring the genuine moral incentive to light; and since all ethics must rest on that incentive, our problem would then be solved.

How to recognize actions with moral worth.

The first question to settle now is a question of experience: do people actually act justly of their own free will and show unselfish love for others, even to the point of nobility and generosity of spirit? Unfortunately, the question cannot be settled by experience alone. We can observe only the deed, not the motives behind it. So the possibility always remains that a selfish motive influenced a just or good action. I will not use the illegitimate trick of turning this theoretical inquiry into an appeal to the reader's conscience. But I believe very few people will doubt the matter. Their own experience will have convinced them that people often act justly for one reason alone: to prevent someone else from being wronged. Indeed, some people seem to have an inborn principle of giving others their due. They never deliberately wrong anyone. They do not pursue their own advantage without limits, but also take other people's rights into account. When they and someone else have taken on obligations to each other, they make sure not only that the other person does what is required, but also that the other person receives what is due. They sincerely do not want anyone dealing with them to lose out. These are the truly honest people, the few who are fair among the countless unfair people. But such people do exist. I also think it will be granted that some people help and give, work for others and give things up, with no further aim in their hearts than to help someone whose need they see. As for Arnold von Winkelried, he cried out, "Loyal, dear fellow Confederates, will you remember my wife and child?" Then he gathered as many of the enemy's spears into his arms as he could hold. Anyone who can imagine that he had some selfish aim in doing this is welcome to do so. I cannot.—In §. 13 above, I already pointed to cases of freely chosen justice that cannot be denied without quibbling and stubbornness.—But if someone still insists on denying that any such actions occur, then, on that person's view, morality would be a science with no real subject matter, like astrology and alchemy. It would be a waste of time to keep arguing about its basis. I would therefore have nothing more to say to that person. I am speaking to those who accept that these actions really occur.

Only actions of the kind just described, then, are credited with moral worth in the proper sense. What distinguishes them is the exclusion of the sort of motives that otherwise produce all human actions: self-interested motives, in the widest sense of the word. That is precisely why discovering a selfish motive completely removes an action's moral worth if it was the only motive, and reduces its moral worth if it was a contributing motive. The absence of all selfish motivation is therefore the test of whether an action has moral worth. Someone might object that actions done out of pure malice and cruelty are not selfish either. But clearly these cannot be what is meant here, since they are the opposite of the actions we are discussing. Anyone who insists on a strict definition can explicitly rule them out by their essential feature: they aim at someone else's suffering.—Another sign of actions with moral worth is entirely internal and therefore less obvious. They leave us with a certain satisfaction with ourselves, called the approval of conscience. In the same way, the opposite actions—those of injustice and lack of love, and still more those of malice and cruelty—bring an opposite inner judgment of ourselves. There is also a secondary, incidental outward sign: actions of the first kind win the approval and respect of uninvolved witnesses, while actions of the second kind have the opposite effect.

We have now identified actions with moral worth and accepted that they actually occur. We must treat them as the phenomenon before us that needs explaining. We must therefore ask what can move people to act in this way. If this inquiry succeeds, it must reveal the genuine moral motive. Since all ethics must rest on that motive, our problem would then be solved.