Section 2
Original German
Allgemeiner Rückblick.
Dem Volke wird die Moral durch die Theologie begründet, als ausgesprochener Wille Gottes. Die Philosophen hingegen, mit wenigen Ausnahmen, sehen wir sorgfältig bemüht, diese Art der Begründung ganz auszuschließen, ja, um nur sie zu vermeiden, lieber zu sophistischen Gründen ihre Zuflucht nehmen. Woher dieser Gegensatz? Gewiß läßt sich keine wirksamere Begründung der Moral denken, als die theologische: denn wer würde so vermessen seyn, sich dem Willen des Allmächtigen und Allwissenden zu widersetzen? Gewiß Niemand; wenn nur derselbe auf eine ganz authentische, keinem Zweifel Raum gestattende, so zu sagen offizielle Weise verkündigt wäre. Aber diese Bedingung ist es, die sich nicht erfüllen läßt. Vielmehr sucht man, umgekehrt, das als Wille Gottes verkündigte Gesetz dadurch als solches zu beglaubigen, daß man dessen Uebereinstimmung mit unsern anderweitigen, also natürlichen, moralischen Einsichten nachweist, appellirt mithin an diese als das Unmittelbarere und Gewissere. Hiezu kommt noch die Erkenntniß, daß ein bloß durch angedrohte Strafe und verheißene Belohnung zu Wege gebrachtes moralisches Handeln, mehr dem Scheine, als der Wahrheit nach ein solches seyn würde; weil es ja im Grunde auf Egoismus beruhte, und was dabei in letzter Instanz den Ausschlag gäbe, die größere oder geringere Leichtigkeit wäre, mit der Einer vor dem Andern aus unzureichenden Gründen glaubte. Seitdem nun aber gar Kant die bis dahin für fest geltenden Fundamente der spekulativen Theologie zerstört hat, und dann diese, welche bisher die Trägerin der Ethik gewesen war, jetzt, umgekehrt, auf die Ethik stützen wollte, um ihr so eine, wenn auch nur ideelle Existenz zu verschaffen; da ist weniger, als jemals, an eine Begründung der Ethik durch die Theologie zu denken, indem man nun nicht mehr weiß, welche von beiden die Last und welche die Stütze seyn soll, und am Ende in einen circulus vitiosus geriethe.
Eben durch den Einfluß der Kantischen Philosophie, sodann durch die gleichzeitige Einwirkung der beispiellosen Fortschritte sämmtlicher Naturwissenschaften, in Hinsicht auf welche jedes frühere Zeitalter gegen unseres als das der Kindheit erscheint, und endlich durch die Bekanntschaft mit der Sanskritlitteratur, mit dem Brahmaismus und Buddhaismus, diesen ältesten und am weitesten verbreiteten, also der Zeit und dem Raume nach vornehmsten Religionen der Menschheit, welche ja auch die heimathliche Urreligion unseres eigenen, bekanntlich Asiatischen Stammes sind, der jetzt, in seiner fremden Heimath, wieder eine späte Kunde von ihnen erhält; — durch alles dieses, sage ich, haben im Laufe der letzten funfzig Jahre die philosophischen Grundüberzeugungen der Gelehrten Europa's eine Umwandlung erlitten, welche vielleicht Mancher sich nur zögernd eingesteht, die aber doch nicht abzuleugnen ist. In Folge derselben sind auch die alten Stützen der Ethik morsch geworden: doch ist die Zuversicht geblieben, daß diese selbst nie sinken kann; woraus die Ueberzeugung hervorgeht, daß es für sie noch andere Stützen, als die bisherigen, geben müsse, welche den vorgeschrittenen Einsichten des Zeitalters angemessen wären. Ohne Zweifel ist es die Erkenntniß dieses mehr und mehr fühlbar werdenden Bedürfnisses, welche die Königliche Societät zu der vorliegenden, bedeutsamen Preisfrage veranlaßt hat. —
Zu allen Zeiten ist viele und gute Moral gepredigt worden; aber die Begründung derselben hat stets im Argen gelegen. Im Ganzen ist bei dieser das Bestreben sichtbar, irgend eine objektive Wahrheit zu finden, aus welcher die ethischen Vorschriften sich logisch ableiten ließen: man hat dieselbe in der Natur der Dinge, oder in der des Menschen gesucht; aber vergebens. Immer ergab sich, daß der Wille des Menschen nur auf sein eigenes Wohlseyn, dessen Summe man unter dem Begriff Glücksäligkeit denkt, gerichtet sei; welches Streben ihn auf einen ganz andern Weg leitet, als den die Moral ihm vorzeichnen möchte. Nun versuchte man die Glücksäligkeit bald als identisch mit der Tugend, bald aber als eine Folge und Wirkung derselben darzustellen: beides ist allezeit mißlungen; obwohl man die Sophismen dabei nicht gespart hat. Man versuchte es sodann mit rein objektiven, abstrakten, bald a posteriori, bald a priori gefundenen Sätzen, aus denen das ethische Wohlverhalten sich allenfalls folgern ließe: aber diesen gebrach es an einem Anhaltspunkt in der Natur des Menschen, vermöge dessen sie die Macht gehabt hätten, seinem egoistischen Hange entgegen, seine Bestrebungen zu leiten. Alles dieses durch Aufzählung und Kritik aller bisherigen Grundlagen der Moral hier zu erhärten, scheint mir überflüssig; nicht nur weil ich die Meinung des Augustinus theile non est pro magno habendum quid homines senserint, sed quae sit rei veritas; sondern auch weil es hieße γλαῦκας εἰς Ἀθήνας κομίζειν, indem der Königlichen Societät die früheren Versuche die Ethik zu begründen, genugsam bekannt sind, und sie durch die Preisfrage selbst zu erkennen giebt, daß sie auch von der Unzulänglichkeit derselben überzeugt ist. Der weniger gelehrte Leser findet eine zwar nicht vollständige, aber doch in der Hauptsache genügende Zusammenstellung der bisherigen Versuche in Garve's „Uebersicht der vornehmsten Principien der Sittenlehre“, ferner in Stäudlins „Geschichte der Moralphilosophie“ und ähnlichen Büchern. —
Niederschlagend ist freilich die Betrachtung, daß es der Ethik, dieser das Leben unmittelbar betreffenden Wissenschaft, nicht besser gegangen ist, als der abstrusen Metaphysik, und sie, seit Sokrates sie gründete, stets betrieben, doch noch ihren ersten Grundsatz sucht. Aber dagegen ist auch in der Ethik weit mehr, als in irgend einer andern Wissenschaft, das Wesentliche in den ersten Grundsätzen enthalten; indem die Ableitungen hier so leicht sind, daß sie sich von selbst machen. Denn zu schließen sind Alle, zu urtheilen Wenige fähig. Daher eben sind lange Lehrbücher und Vorträge der Moral so überflüssig, wie langweilig. Daß ich inzwischen alle die früheren Grundlagen der Ethik als bekannt voraussetzen darf, ist mir eine Erleichterung. Denn wer überblickt, wie sowohl die Philosophen des Alterthums, als die der neuern Zeit (dem Mittelalter genügte der Kirchenglaube) zu den verschiedensten, mitunter wunderlichsten Argumenten gegriffen haben, um für die so allgemein anerkannten Forderungen der Moral ein nachweisbares Fundament zu liefern, und dies dennoch mit offenbar schlechtem Erfolg; der wird die Schwierigkeit des Problems ermessen und danach meine Leistung beurtheilen. Und wer gesehen hat, wie alle bisher eingeschlagenen Wege nicht zum Ziele führten, wird williger mit mir einen davon sehr verschiedenen betreten, den man bisher entweder nicht gesehen hat, oder aber verächtlich liegen ließ; vielleicht weil er der natürlichste war.1 In der That wird meine Lösung des Problems Manchen an das Ei des Kolumbus erinnern.
Ganz allein dem neuesten Versuche die Ethik zu begründen, dem Kantischen, werde ich eine kritische Untersuchung und zwar eine desto ausführlichere widmen; theils weil die große Moralreform Kants dieser Wissenschaft eine Grundlage gab, die wirkliche Vorzüge vor den früheren hatte; theils weil sie noch immer das letzte Bedeutende ist, das in der Ethik geschehen; daher Kants Begründung derselben noch heut zu Tage in allgemeiner Geltung steht und durchgängig gelehrt wird, wenn auch durch einige Aenderungen in der Darstellung und den Ausdrücken anders aufgeputzt. Sie ist die Ethik der letzten sechzig Jahre, welche weggeräumt werden muß, ehe wir einen andern Weg einschlagen. Hiezu kommt, daß die Prüfung derselben mir Anlaß geben wird, die meisten ethischen Grundbegriffe zu untersuchen und zu erörtern, um das Ergebniß hieraus später voraussetzen zu können. Besonders aber wird, weil die Gegensätze sich erläutern, die Kritik der Kantischen Moralbegründung die beste Vorbereitung und Anleitung, ja, der gerade Weg zu der meinigen seyn, als welche, in den wesentlichsten Punkten der Kantischen diametral entgegengesetzt ist. Dieserwegen würde es das verkehrteste Beginnen seyn, wenn man die jetzt folgende Kritik überspringen wollte, um gleich an den positiven Theil meiner Darstellung zu gehen, als welche dann nur halb verständlich seyn würde.
Ueberhaupt ist es jetzt wirklich an der Zeit, daß die Ethik ein Mal ernstlich ins Verhör genommen werde. Seit mehr als einem halben Jahrhundert liegt sie auf dem bequemen Ruhepolster, welches Kant ihr untergebreitet hatte: dem kategorischen Imperativ der praktischen Vernunft. In unsern Tagen jedoch wird dieser meistens unter dem weniger prunkenden, aber glatteren und kurrenteren Titel „das Sittengesetz“ eingeführt, unter welchem er, nach einer leichten Verbeugung vor Vernunft und Erfahrung, unbesehen durchschlüpft: ist er aber ein Mal im Hause, dann wird des Befehlens und Kommandirens kein Ende; ohne daß er je weiter Rede stände. — Daß Kant, als der Erfinder der Sache, und nachdem er gröbere Irrthümer dadurch verdrängt hatte, sich dabei beruhigte, war recht und nothwendig. Aber nun sehen zu müssen, wie auf dem von ihm gelegten und seitdem immer breiter getretenen Ruhepolster jetzt sogar die Esel sich wälzen, — das ist hart: ich meyne die täglichen Kompendienschreiber, die, mit der gelassenen Zuversicht des Unverstandes, vermeynen, die Ethik begründet zu haben, wenn sie nur sich auf jenes unserer Vernunft angeblich einwohnende „Sittengesetz“ berufen, und dann getrost jenes weitschweifige und konfuse Phrasengewebe darauf setzen, mit dem sie die klärsten und einfachsten Verhältnisse des Lebens unverständlich zu machen verstehen; — ohne bei solchem Unternehmen jemals sich ernstlich gefragt zu haben, ob denn auch wirklich so ein „Sittengesetz,“ als bequemer Koder der Moral, in unserm Kopf, Brust oder Herzen geschrieben stehe. Daher bekenne ich das besondere Vergnügen, mit dem ich jetzt daran gehe, der Moral das breite Ruhepolster wegzuziehen, und spreche unverhohlen mein Vorhaben aus, die praktische Vernunft und den kategorischen Imperativ Kants als völlig unberechtigte, grundlose und erdichtete Annahmen nachzuweisen, darzuthun, daß auch Kants Ethik eines soliden Fundaments ermangelt, und somit die Moral wieder ihrer alten, gänzlichen Rathlosigkeit zu überantworten, in welcher sie dastehen muß, ehe ich darangehe, das wahre, in unserm Wesen gegründete und ungezweifelt wirksame, moralische Princip der menschlichen Natur darzulegen. Denn da dieses kein so breites Fundament darbietet, wie jenes Ruhepolster; so werden Die, welche die Sache bequemer gewohnt sind, ihren alten Ruheplatz nicht eher verlassen, als bis sie die tiefe Höhlung des Bodens, auf dem er steht, deutlich wahrgenommen haben.
1 Io dir non vi saprei per qual sventura,O piuttosto per qual fatalità,Da noi credito ottien più l’impostura,Che la semplice e nuda verità. —Casti.
(Ich weiß es nicht zu sagen, durch welchen Unfall, oder vielmehr durch welches Mißgeschick, bei uns der Trug leichter Glauben findet, als die einfache und nackte Wahrheit.)
Musean translation
Machine-assisted Musean translation made directly from the complete 1860 German edition, including its quotations, author’s notes, prize question and judgment. Source-language reviewed.
General Retrospect.
For the people, morality is grounded in theology, as the declared will of God. Philosophers, by contrast, with few exceptions, take pains to exclude this kind of foundation altogether; indeed, simply to avoid it, they would rather take refuge in sophistical arguments. Why this opposition? Certainly no more effective foundation for morality can be imagined than a theological one: who would be so presumptuous as to resist the will of the Almighty and All-knowing? Certainly no one—if only that will had been proclaimed in a wholly authentic way, leaving no room for doubt, officially, so to speak. But this is precisely the condition that cannot be fulfilled. Instead, the process is reversed: people try to authenticate the law proclaimed as God's will by showing that it agrees with our moral insights from other sources, which are therefore natural. They thus appeal to these insights as the more immediate and certain authority. Added to this is the recognition that moral action brought about merely by threatened punishment and promised reward would be moral more in appearance than in truth, since at bottom it would rest on egoism. What ultimately tipped the scales would be the greater or lesser readiness of one person, compared with another, to believe on insufficient grounds. But ever since Kant destroyed the foundations of speculative theology, previously regarded as secure, and then sought to support theology—which until then had supported ethics—on ethics instead, thus securing for it an existence, even if only in thought, there has been less reason than ever to consider grounding ethics in theology. For now we no longer know which is to be the burden and which the support, and would end up in a vicious circle.
Through the influence of Kantian philosophy, then through the simultaneous impact of the unprecedented advances in all the natural sciences, beside which every earlier age seems an age of childhood compared with our own, and finally through acquaintance with Sanskrit literature, Brahmanism, and Buddhism—these oldest and most widespread religions, and thus the foremost religions of humanity in time and space, which are also the original, native religions of our own stock, known to be Asian, now receiving belated news of them once more in its foreign homeland—through all this, I say, the fundamental philosophical convictions of Europe's scholars have undergone a transformation in the course of the last fifty years. Some may admit it to themselves only reluctantly, but it cannot be denied. As a result, the old supports of ethics have also grown rotten; yet the confidence remains that ethics itself can never fall. From this comes the conviction that it must have supports other than those it has had until now, supports suited to the advanced understanding of the age. It was undoubtedly recognition of this increasingly felt need that prompted the Royal Society to pose the present important prize question.—
In every age, much good morality has been preached; but its foundation has always been in a sorry state. On the whole, efforts to establish it show a search for some objective truth from which ethical precepts could be logically derived. People have looked for it in the nature of things or in human nature, but in vain. The result was always that the human will aims only at its own well-being, the sum of which is conceived under the term happiness; and this striving leads it along a very different path from the one morality would like to prescribe. Attempts were then made to present happiness now as identical with virtue, now as its consequence and effect. Both attempts have always failed, though there has been no shortage of sophistry. Next came attempts with purely objective, abstract propositions, discovered sometimes through experience, sometimes independently of it, from which morally good conduct could at least be inferred. But these lacked any anchor in human nature that could have given them the power to guide a person's endeavors against his egoistic inclination. I consider it unnecessary to substantiate all this here by enumerating and criticizing every previous foundation of morality—not only because I share Augustine's view that "what people have thought is not to be considered of great importance, but rather what the truth of the matter is," but also because it would mean "carrying owls to Athens." The Royal Society is sufficiently familiar with earlier attempts to ground ethics, and by posing the prize question itself shows that it too is convinced of their inadequacy. The less learned reader will find an account of previous attempts, incomplete but sufficient in its essentials, in Garve's "Survey of the Chief Principles of Ethics," as well as in Stäudlin's "History of Moral Philosophy" and similar books.—
It is certainly disheartening to reflect that ethics, the science that bears directly on life, has fared no better than abstruse metaphysics: continually pursued ever since Socrates founded it, it is still searching for its first principle. On the other hand, far more than in any other science, what is essential in ethics is contained in its first principles, since the deductions here are so easy that they make themselves. For everyone is capable of drawing conclusions, but few are capable of judgment. This is precisely why lengthy textbooks and lectures on morality are as superfluous as they are tedious. Meanwhile, it is a relief to me that I may assume familiarity with all the earlier foundations of ethics. For anyone who surveys the extraordinarily varied and sometimes bizarre arguments to which philosophers both ancient and modern have resorted—the Middle Ages were content with the Church's faith—in order to provide a demonstrable foundation for the so universally acknowledged demands of morality, and with such plainly poor results, will appreciate the difficulty of the problem and judge my achievement accordingly. And anyone who has seen how every path taken so far has failed to reach the goal will be more willing to join me on a very different one, a path previously either overlooked or scornfully passed by, perhaps because it was the most natural.1 In fact, my solution to the problem will remind some people of Columbus's egg.
Only the most recent attempt to ground ethics, the Kantian one, will receive a critical examination from me, and a particularly thorough one. This is partly because Kant's great reform of morality gave this science a foundation with genuine advantages over its predecessors, and partly because it is still the last significant event in ethics. Hence Kant's foundation of ethics remains generally accepted and is taught everywhere to this day, even if dressed up differently through a few changes in presentation and expression. It is the ethics of the last sixty years, and must be cleared away before we strike out on another path. Moreover, examining it will give me occasion to investigate and discuss most of the fundamental ethical concepts, so that I can later take the results for granted. Above all, since opposites illuminate each other, a critique of Kant's foundation of morality will be the best preparation and guide, indeed the direct path, to my own, which is diametrically opposed to Kant's in the most essential points. For this reason, it would be entirely misguided to skip the critique that follows and go straight to the positive part of my account, which would then be only half intelligible.
Indeed, it is now high time for ethics to be seriously called to account. For more than half a century it has lain on the comfortable cushion Kant laid beneath it: the categorical imperative of practical reason. In our day, however, this is usually introduced under the less imposing but smoother and more readily accepted title of "the moral law," under which, after a slight bow to reason and experience, it slips through unexamined. Once inside the house, however, there is no end to its orders and commands, though it never offers any further account of itself.—It was right and necessary that Kant, as its inventor, should have rested content with it after using it to displace cruder errors. But now to have to watch even the donkeys rolling on the cushion he laid down, trampled ever wider since then—that is hard. I mean the everyday writers of compendiums, who, with the serene assurance of incomprehension, imagine they have given ethics a foundation if they merely appeal to that "moral law" supposedly dwelling in our reason. They then confidently pile onto it that long-winded, confused web of phrases with which they know how to make life's clearest and simplest relations unintelligible—without ever seriously asking themselves in the course of this undertaking whether such a "moral law" really is inscribed in our heads, breasts, or hearts, as a convenient lure for morality. I therefore confess the particular pleasure with which I now set about pulling this broad cushion out from under morality. I openly declare my intention to show that Kant's practical reason and categorical imperative are wholly unwarranted, groundless, fabricated assumptions; to demonstrate that Kant's ethics, too, lacks a solid foundation; and thus to return morality to its old state of utter helplessness, in which it must stand before I set about presenting the true moral principle of human nature, rooted in our being and unquestionably effective. For since this principle offers no foundation as broad as that cushion, those accustomed to greater comfort in the matter will not abandon their old resting place until they clearly perceive the deep hollow beneath the ground on which it stands.
1 I could not tell you by what mischance,Or rather by what fatality,Deceit wins greater credit among usThan simple and naked truth.—Casti.
(I cannot say by what accident, or rather by what misfortune, deception finds readier belief among us than simple and naked truth.)
Plain English translation
Independent, machine-assisted Plain English translation made directly from the complete 1860 German edition and its embedded passages. Source-language reviewed.
General Review.
For the public, theology provides morality's foundation by presenting it as God's declared will. Philosophers, by contrast, with few exceptions, carefully try to exclude this kind of foundation altogether. Rather than use it, they even prefer to resort to deceptive arguments. Why this opposition? Certainly no more effective foundation for morality can be imagined than a theological one. Who would be so reckless as to resist the will of the almighty and all-knowing? Certainly no one—if only that will had been announced in a completely authentic way that left no room for doubt, an official way, so to speak. But that condition cannot be met. Instead, people try to prove that a law proclaimed as God's will really is his will by showing that it agrees with our moral insights gained elsewhere, and therefore naturally. So they appeal to those insights as something more immediate and more certain. There is also the recognition that moral action brought about merely by threatened punishment and promised reward would be moral more in appearance than in reality. At bottom it would rest on egoism. The deciding factor would ultimately be how much more or less readily one person than another believed on insufficient grounds. Then Kant destroyed the foundations of speculative theology, which until then had been considered secure. After that, he wanted to reverse the relationship and support theology, formerly the support of ethics, on ethics instead, giving it an existence even if only in thought. Since then, there is less reason than ever to consider founding ethics on theology. We no longer know which is to be the load and which the support, and would end up in a vicious circle.
Through the influence of Kant's philosophy, through the simultaneous effect of unprecedented advances in all the natural sciences—advances that make every earlier age look like childhood beside ours—and finally through acquaintance with Sanskrit literature, Brahmanism, and Buddhism, the basic philosophical convictions of European scholars have changed over the last fifty years. Brahmanism and Buddhism are humanity's oldest and most widespread religions, and therefore its foremost in time and space. They are also the original native religions of our own people, who, as we know, came from Asia and now, in their foreign homeland, receive belated news of them again. All this, I say, has brought about a change that some may hesitate to admit to themselves but that cannot be denied. As a result, the old supports of ethics have also become rotten. Yet the confidence remains that ethics itself can never fall. This gives rise to the conviction that it must have supports other than the old ones, suited to our age's more advanced understanding. No doubt the Royal Society's recognition of this increasingly felt need led it to pose the important prize question before us.
Much good morality has been preached in every age, but its foundation has always been in bad shape. In general, attempts to provide it show an effort to find some objective truth from which ethical rules could be logically derived. People have looked for that truth in the nature of things or in human nature, but in vain. It always turned out that the human will aims only at its own well-being, the totality of which we call happiness. This pursuit leads it down a very different path from the one morality would like to lay out for it. People then tried to present happiness sometimes as identical with virtue and sometimes as its consequence and effect. Both attempts have always failed, despite no shortage of deceptive reasoning. Next they tried purely objective, abstract propositions, found sometimes through experience and sometimes independently of it, from which morally good conduct might possibly be deduced. But these propositions lacked a point of attachment in human nature that could give them the power to direct people's efforts against their egoistic inclination. I think it unnecessary to substantiate all this here by listing and criticizing every foundation of morality proposed so far. This is not just because I share Augustine's view that “what people have thought should not count for much; what matters is the truth of the matter.” It would also mean “bringing owls to Athens.” The Royal Society knows the earlier attempts to found ethics well enough. By its prize question itself, it shows that it too is convinced of their inadequacy. The less learned reader will find an account of previous attempts that, though incomplete, covers the essentials adequately in Garve's “Survey of the Chief Principles of Ethics,” in Stäudlin's “History of Moral Philosophy,” and in similar books.
It is certainly discouraging to consider that ethics, a science directly concerned with life, has fared no better than abstruse metaphysics. Although continuously pursued since Socrates founded it, ethics is still looking for its first principle. On the other hand, far more of what is essential is contained in the first principles of ethics than in those of any other science. The deductions here are so easy that they make themselves. Everyone can draw conclusions; few can judge. That is precisely why long textbooks and lectures on morality are as unnecessary as they are boring. Meanwhile, it is a relief that I may assume all the earlier foundations of ethics are known. Consider how the philosophers of antiquity and modern times—the Middle Ages were satisfied with church doctrine—have reached for the most varied, sometimes strangest arguments to provide a demonstrable foundation for morality's universally accepted demands, yet with obviously poor results. Anyone who surveys this will appreciate the difficulty of the problem and judge my achievement accordingly. Anyone who has seen that all the paths taken so far have failed to reach the goal will be more willing to join me on a very different one. Until now, people either failed to see it or passed it by with contempt, perhaps because it was the most natural one.1 In fact, my solution to the problem will remind some people of Columbus's egg.
I will devote a critical examination only to the most recent attempt to found ethics, Kant's, and it will be all the more detailed. One reason is that Kant's great reform of morality gave this science a foundation with real advantages over earlier ones. Another is that it remains the last significant development in ethics. That is why Kant's foundation is still generally accepted and taught everywhere today, even when dressed up differently through some changes in presentation and wording. It is the ethics of the last sixty years, and it must be cleared away before we take another path. Examining it will also give me a chance to investigate and discuss most of the basic ethical concepts, so I can later take the results for granted. Above all, since opposites clarify one another, criticizing Kant's foundation of morality will be the best preparation and guide, indeed the direct path, to my own. Mine is directly opposed to Kant's on the most essential points. So it would be completely misguided to skip the criticism that follows and go straight to the positive part of my account. It would then be only half understandable.
In general, it really is time to subject ethics to serious questioning. For more than half a century it has rested on the comfortable cushion Kant laid beneath it: practical reason's categorical imperative. These days, however, this is usually introduced under the less grand but smoother and more familiar title of “the moral law.” Under that name, after a slight bow to reason and experience, it slips through without inspection. Once inside the house, however, it never stops issuing orders and commands, without ever answering any further questions. It was right and necessary for Kant, who invented it and used it to displace cruder errors, to be satisfied with it. But it is hard to have to watch even the donkeys now rolling on the cushion he laid down, which has been trodden ever wider since. I mean the everyday writers of handbooks. With the calm confidence of people who do not understand, they imagine they have founded ethics if they merely appeal to that “moral law” supposedly living in our reason. They then confidently pile onto it the long-winded, confused web of phrases with which they manage to make the clearest and simplest relationships in life incomprehensible. Yet in doing this, they have never seriously asked themselves whether such a “moral law,” as a convenient bait for morality, is really written in our heads, chests, or hearts. So I admit the particular pleasure with which I now set about pulling this broad cushion out from under morality. I openly state my intention to show that practical reason and Kant's categorical imperative are completely unjustified, groundless, invented assumptions; to demonstrate that Kant's ethics too lacks a solid foundation; and thus to return morality to its old condition of complete helplessness. It must stand in that condition before I begin to set out human nature's true moral principle, which is rooted in our being and unquestionably effective. For this principle offers no foundation as broad as that cushion. People used to a more comfortable arrangement will not leave their old resting place until they clearly see the deep hollow in the ground beneath it.
1 I cannot tell you through what misfortune,Or rather through what twist of fate,Deception wins more belief among usThan simple, naked truth.Casti.
(I cannot say through what accident, or rather through what misfortune, deception is more readily believed among us than simple, naked truth.)
About this section
Section 2 is part of On the Basis of Morality by Arthur Schopenhauer. This page sets the German original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is section 3 of 24 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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