Section 7
Original German
Vom obersten Grundsatz der Kantischen Ethik.
Nachdem ich im vorigen Paragraph die eigentliche Grundlage der Kantischen Ethik geprüft habe, gehe ich jetzt zu dem auf diesem Fundament ruhenden, mit ihm aber genau verbundenen, ja, verwachsenen obersten Grundsatz der Moral. Wir erinnern uns, daß er lautete: „Handle nur nach der Maxime, von der du zugleich wollen kannst, daß sie als allgemeines Gesetz für alle vernünftige Wesen gelte.“ — Sehen wir darüber hinweg, daß es ein sonderbares Verfahren ist, Dem, der angenommenermaaßen ein Gesetz für sein Thun und Lassen sucht, den Bescheid zu ertheilen, er solle gar erst eins für das Thun und Lassen aller möglichen vernünftigen Wesen suchen; und bleiben wir bei der Thatsache stehen, daß jene von Kant aufgestellte Grundregel offenbar noch nicht das Moralprincip selbst ist, sondern erst eine heuristische Regel dazu, d. h. eine Anweisung, wo es zu suchen sei; also gleichsam zwar noch nicht baares Geld, aber eine sichere Anweisung. Wer nun ist es eigentlich, der diese realisiren soll? Die Wahrheit gleich heraus zu sagen: ein hier sehr unerwarteter Zahlmeister: — Niemand anders als der Egoismus; wie ich sogleich deutlich zeigen werde.
Also die Maxime selbst, von der ich wollen kann, daß nach ihr Alle handelten, wäre erst das wirkliche Moralprincip. Mein Wollen können ist die Angel, um welche die gegebene Weisung sich dreht. Aber was kann ich denn eigentlich wollen, und was nicht? Offenbar bedarf ich, um zu bestimmen, was ich in der besagten Hinsicht wollen kann, wieder eines Regulativs: und an diesem hätte ich allererst den Schlüssel zu der, gleich einem versiegelten Befehl gegebenen Weisung. Wo ist nun dieses Regulativ zu suchen? — Unmöglich irgendwo anders, als in meinem Egoismus, dieser nächsten, stets bereiten, ursprünglichen und lebendigen Norm aller Willensakte, die vor jedem Moralprincip wenigstens das jus primi occupantis voraus hat. — Die in Kants oberster Regel enthaltene Anweisung zur Auffindung des eigentlichen Moralprincips beruht nämlich auf der stillschweigenden Voraussetzung, daß ich nur Das wollen kann, wobei ich mich am besten stehe. Da ich nun, bei der Feststellung einer allgemein zu befolgenden Maxime, nothwendig mich nicht bloß als den alle Mal aktiven, sondern auch als den eventualiter und zu Zeiten passiven Theil betrachten muß; so entscheidet, von diesem Standpunkt aus, mein Egoismus sich für Gerechtigkeit und Menschenliebe: nicht weil er sie zu üben, sondern weil er sie zu erfahren Lust hat, und im Sinne jenes Geizhalses, der, nach angehörter Predigt über Wohlthätigkeit, ausruft:
„Wie gründlich ausgeführt, wie schön! —— Fast möcht’ ich betteln gehn.“
Diesen unentbehrlichen Schlüssel zu der Weisung, in welcher Kants oberster Grundsatz der Moral besteht, kann er nicht umhin, auch selbst hinzuzufügen: jedoch thut er dies nicht sogleich, bei Aufstellung desselben, als welches Anstoß geben könnte; sondern in anständiger Entfernung davon und tiefer im Text, damit es nicht in die Augen springe, daß hier, trotz den erhabenen Anstalten a priori eigentlich der Egoismus auf dem Richterstuhl sitzt und den Ausschlag giebt, und nachdem er, vom Gesichtspunkt der eventualiter passiven Seite aus, entschieden hat, dies für die aktive geltend gemacht wird. Also S. 19; — R., S. 24, heißt es: „daß ich ein allgemeines Gesetz, zu lügen, nicht wollen könne, weil man mir dann nicht mehr glauben, oder mich mit gleicher Münze bezahlen würde“. — S. 55; — R., S. 49. „Die Allgemeinheit eines Gesetzes, daß Jeder, was ihm einfällt, versprechen könne, mit dem Vorsatz, es nicht zu halten, würde das Versprechen und den Zweck, den man damit haben mag, selbst unmöglich machen; indem Niemand glauben würde.“ — S. 56; — R., S. 50, heißt es in Beziehung auf die Maxime der Lieblosigkeit: „Ein Wille, der dieses beschlösse, würde sich selbst widersprechen, indem doch Fälle sich ereignen können, wo er Anderer Liebe und Theilnahme bedarf und wo er durch ein solches aus seinem eigenen Willen entsprungenes Naturgesetz, sich selbst alle Hoffnung des Beistandes, den er sich wünscht, rauben würde.“ — Ebenfalls in der Kritik der praktischen Vernunft, Th. I, B. 1, Hauptst. 2, S. 123; — R., S. 192: „Wenn Jeder Anderer Noth mit völliger Gleichgültigkeit ansähe, und Du gehörtest mit zu einer solchen Ordnung der Dinge; würdest Du darin wohl mit Einstimmung Deines Willens seyn?“ — Quam temere in nosmet legem sancimus iniquam! wäre die Antwort. Diese Stellen erklären genugsam, in welchem Sinn das „Wollen können“ in Kants Moralprincip zu verstehen sei. Aber am allerdeutlichsten ist dieses wahre Bewandniß des Kantischen Moralprincips ausgesprochen in den „Metaphysischen Anfangsgründen der Tugendlehre“, §. 30: „Denn Jeder wünscht, daß ihm geholfen werde. Wenn er aber seine Maxime, Andern nicht helfen zu wollen, laut werden ließe; so würde Jeder befugt seyn, ihm Beistand zu versagen. Also widerstreitet die eigennützige Maxime sich selbst.“ Befugt seyn, heißt es, Befugt seyn! Also ist hier so deutlich, wie nur immer möglich, ausgesprochen, daß die moralische Verpflichtung ganz und gar auf vorausgesetzter Reciprocität beruhe, folglich schlechthin egoistisch ist und vom Egoismus ihre Auslegung erhält, als welcher, unter der Bedingung der Reciprocität, sich klüglich zu einem Kompromiß versteht. Zur Begründung des Princips des Staatsvereins wäre das tauglich, aber nicht zu der des Moralprincips. Wenn daher in der „Grundlegung“, S. 81; — R., S. 67, gesagt wird: „Das Princip: Handle jederzeit nach der Maxime, deren Allgemeinheit als Gesetzes Du zugleich wollen kannst, — ist die einzige Bedingung, unter der ein Wille niemals mit sich selbst in Widerstreit seyn kann;“ — so ist die wahre Auslegung des Wortes Widerstreit diese, daß wenn ein Wille die Maxime der Ungerechtigkeit und Lieblosigkeit sanktionirt hätte, er nachmals, wenn er eventualiter der leidende Theil würde, sie revociren und dadurch sich widersprechen würde.
Aus dieser Erklärung ist vollkommen klar, daß jene Kantische Grundregel nicht, wie er unablässig behauptet, ein kategorischer, sondern in der That ein hypothetischer Imperativ ist, indem demselben stillschweigend die Bedingung zum Grunde liegt, daß das für mein Handeln aufzustellende Gesetz, indem ich es zum allgemeinen erhebe, auch Gesetz für mein Leiden wird, und ich unter dieser Bedingung, als der eventualiter passive Theil, Ungerechtigkeit und Lieblosigkeit allerdings nicht wollen kann. Hebe ich aber diese Bedingung auf und denke mich, etwan im Vertrauen auf meine überlegenen Geistes- und Leibeskräfte, stets nur als den aktiven und nie als den passiven Theil, bei der zu erwählenden allgemein gültigen Maxime; so kann ich, vorausgesetzt daß es kein anderes Fundament der Moral, als das Kantische, gebe, sehr wohl Ungerechtigkeit und Lieblosigkeit als allgemeine Maxime wollen, und demnach die Welt regeln
upon the simple plan,That they should take, who have the power,And they should keep, who can.10Wordsworth.
Also zu dem im vorigen Paragraph dargelegten Mangel an realer Begründung des Kantischen obersten Grundsatzes der Moral gesellt sich, Kants ausdrücklicher Versicherung zuwider, die versteckte hypothetische Beschaffenheit desselben, vermöge deren er sogar auf bloßen Egoismus basirt ist, als welcher der geheime Ausleger der in demselben gegebenen Weisung ist. Hiezu kommt nun ferner, daß er, bloß als Formel betrachtet, nur eine Umschreibung, Einkleidung, verblümter Ausdruck der allbekannten Regel quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri ne feceris ist, wenn man nämlich diese, indem man sie ohne non und ne wiederholt, von dem Makel befreit, allein die Rechts- und nicht die Liebespflichten zu enthalten. Denn offenbar ist dieses die Maxime, nach der ich (versteht sich mit Rücksicht auf meine möglicherweise passive Rolle, mithin auf meinen Egoismus) allein wollen kann, daß Alle handeln. Diese Regel quod tibi fieri etc. ist aber selbst wieder nur eine Umschreibung, oder, wenn man will, Prämisse, des von mir als der einfachste und reinste Ausdruck der von allen Moralsystemen einstimmig geforderten Handlungsweise, aufgestellten Satzes: Neminem laede, imo omnes, quantum potes, juva. Dieser ist und bleibt der wahre reine Inhalt aller Moral. Aber worauf er sich gründe? was es sei, das dieser Forderung Kraft ertheilt? Dies ist das alte, schwere Problem, welches auch heute uns wieder vorliegt. Denn von der andern Seite schreiet mit lauter Stimme der Egoismus: Neminem juva, imo omnes, si forte conducit, laede: ja, die Bosheit giebt die Variante: Imo omnes, quantum potes, laede. Diesem Egoismus, und der Bosheit dazu, einen ihnen gewachsenen und sogar überlegenen Kämpen entgegen zu stellen, — das ist das Problem aller Ethik. Heic Rhodus, heic salta! —
Kant gedenkt, S. 57; — R., S. 60, sein aufgestelltes Moralprincip noch dadurch zu bewähren, daß er die längst erkannte und allerdings im Wesen der Moralität gegründete Eintheilung der Pflichten in Rechtspflichten (auch genannt vollkommene, unerläßliche, engere Pflichten) und in Tugendpflichten (auch genannt unvollkommene, weitere, verdienstliche, am besten aber Liebespflichten) daraus abzuleiten unternimmt. Allein der Versuch fällt so gezwungen und offenbar schlecht aus, daß er stark wider das aufgestellte oberste Princip zeugt. Da sollen nämlich die Rechtspflichten auf einer Maxime beruhen, deren Gegentheil, als allgemeines Naturgesetz genommen, gar nicht ein Mal ohne Widerspruch gedacht werden könne; die Tugendpflichten aber auf einer Maxime, deren Gegentheil man zwar als allgemeines Naturgesetz denken; aber unmöglich wollen könne. — Nun bitte ich den Leser zu bedenken, daß die Maxime der Ungerechtigkeit, das Herrschen der Gewalt statt des Rechts, welches demnach als Naturgesetz auch nur zu denken unmöglich seyn soll, eigentlich das wirklich und faktisch in der Natur herrschende Gesetz ist, nicht etwan nur in der Thierwelt, sondern auch in der Menschenwelt: seinen nachtheiligen Folgen hat man bei den civilisirten Völkern durch die Staatseinrichtung vorzubeugen gesucht: sobald aber diese, wo und wie es sei, aufgehoben oder eludirt wird, tritt jenes Naturgesetz gleich wieder ein. Fortwährend aber herrscht es zwischen Volk und Volk: der zwischen diesen übliche Gerechtigkeits-Jargon ist bekanntlich ein bloßer Kanzleistyl der Diplomatik: die rohe Gewalt entscheidet. Hingegen ächte, d. i. unerzwungene Gerechtigkeit kommt zwar ganz gewiß, jedoch stets nur als Ausnahme von jenem Naturgesetze vor. Obendrein belegt Kant, in den Beispielen, die er jener Eintheilung vorangeschickt hat, die Rechtspflichten zuerst (S. 53; — R., S. 48) durch die sogenannte Pflicht gegen sich selbst, sein Leben nicht freiwillig zu enden, wenn die Uebel die Annehmlichkeiten überwiegen. Diese Maxime also soll als allgemeines Naturgesetz auch nur zu denken unmöglich seyn. Ich sage daß, da hier die Staatsgewalt nicht ins Mittel treten kann, gerade jene Maxime sich ungehindert als wirklich bestehendes Naturgesetz erweist. Denn ganz gewiß ist es allgemeine Regel, daß der Mensch wirklich zum Selbstmord greift, sobald der angeborene riesenstarke Trieb zur Erhaltung des Lebens von der Größe der Leiden entschieden überwältigt wird: dies zeigt die tägliche Erfahrung. Daß es aber überhaupt irgend einen Gedanken gebe, der ihn davon abhalten könne, nachdem die mit der Natur jedes Lebenden innig verknüpfte so mächtige Todesfurcht sich hiezu machtlos erwiesen, also einen Gedanken, der noch stärker wäre, als diese, — ist eine gewagte Voraussetzung, um so mehr, wenn man sieht, daß dieser Gedanke so schwer herauszufinden ist, daß die Moralisten ihn noch nicht bestimmt anzugeben wissen. Wenigstens haben Argumente der Art, wie Kant sie bei dieser Gelegenheit S. 53; — R., S. 48, und auch S. 67; — R., S. 57, gegen den Selbstmord aufstellt, zuverlässig noch keinen Lebensmüden auch nur einen Augenblick zurückgehalten. Also ein unstreitig faktisch bestehendes und täglich wirkendes Naturgesetz wird, zu Gunsten der Pflichteneintheilung aus dem Kantischen Moralprincip, für ohne Widerspruch auch nur zu denken unmöglich erklärt! — Ich gestehe, daß ich nicht ohne Befriedigung von hier einen Blick vorwärts werfe auf die im folgenden Theile von mir aufzustellende Begründung der Moral, aus welcher die Eintheilung in Rechts- und Liebespflichten (richtiger in Gerechtigkeit und Menschenliebe) sich völlig ungezwungen ergiebt, durch ein aus der Natur der Sache hervorgehendes Trennungsprincip, welches ganz von selbst eine scharfe Gränzlinie zieht; so daß meine Begründung der Moral jene Bewährung in der That aufzuweisen hat, auf welche hier Kant für die seinige ganz unbegründete Ansprüche macht.
10 „Nach diesem simpeln Plan,Daß nehmen soll, wer es vermag,Behalten soll, wer kann.“
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.
On the Supreme Principle of Kantian Ethics.
Having examined the actual foundation of Kantian ethics in the preceding section, I now turn to the supreme principle of morality that rests on this foundation and is intimately connected, indeed fused, with it. We recall its wording: "Act only on a maxim that you can at the same time will to hold as a universal law for all rational beings."—Let us overlook the curious procedure of telling someone who is, by assumption, seeking a law for his own conduct that he must first seek one for the conduct of every possible rational being; let us confine ourselves to the fact that this fundamental rule proposed by Kant is plainly not yet the moral principle itself, but only a heuristic rule for finding it—that is, an instruction on where to look for it. It is thus not yet ready money, but a sound bill of exchange. Who, then, is actually to redeem it? To speak the truth outright: a paymaster quite unexpected here—none other than egoism, as I shall immediately make clear.
The maxim itself, then, according to which I can will everyone to act, would alone be the true moral principle. My ability to will is the hinge on which the instruction turns. But what, precisely, can I will, and what can I not? Plainly, to determine what I can will in the sense intended, I again need a standard; only with this would I possess the key to an instruction delivered like a sealed order. Where, then, is this standard to be found?—Nowhere but in my egoism: the nearest, ever-ready, original, living norm of every act of will, which has at least the right of first occupancy over any moral principle.—For the instruction contained in Kant's supreme rule for discovering the actual moral principle rests on the tacit assumption that I can will only what leaves me best off. Now, in establishing a maxim to be followed universally, I must necessarily regard myself not merely as always the active party, but also as the potentially and sometimes passive one. From this standpoint, therefore, my egoism decides in favor of justice and human kindness—not because it wishes to practice them, but because it wishes to receive them, in the spirit of the miser who, after listening to a sermon on charity, exclaims:
"How thoroughly argued, how fine!——I almost wish to beg."
Kant himself cannot avoid supplying this indispensable key to the instruction that constitutes his supreme moral principle. Yet he does not do so at once, when setting it out, since that might cause offense, but at a respectable distance from it, deeper in the text. In this way it does not leap to the eye that, despite the sublime preparations a priori, egoism actually occupies the judgment seat and casts the deciding vote; and that, once it has decided from the standpoint of the potentially passive side, its decision is made binding on the active one. Thus on S. 19;—R., S. 24, we read: "I cannot will a universal law of lying, because people would then no longer believe me, or would repay me in kind."—S. 55;—R., S. 49: "The universality of a law permitting everyone to promise whatever occurs to him, with the intention of not keeping it, would make promising itself, and whatever purpose one might have in it, impossible, since no one would believe it."—On S. 56;—R., S. 50, concerning the maxim of unkindness, we read: "A will that resolved on this would contradict itself, since cases may arise in which it needs the love and sympathy of others, and in which, through such a law of nature issuing from its own will, it would rob itself of all hope of the assistance it desires."—Likewise in the Critique of Practical Reason, Th. I, B. 1, Hauptst. 2, S. 123;—R., S. 192: "If everyone viewed the distress of others with complete indifference, and you belonged to such an order of things, would you be in it with the consent of your will?"—How rashly we enact an unjust law against ourselves! would be the answer. These passages sufficiently explain the sense in which "being able to will" is to be understood in Kant's moral principle. But the true character of that principle is expressed most clearly of all in the "Metaphysical Foundations of the Doctrine of Virtue," §. 30: "For everyone wishes to be helped. But if he openly declared his maxim of being unwilling to help others, everyone would be entitled to refuse him assistance. Thus the self-interested maxim contradicts itself." Be entitled, it says, be entitled! Here, then, it is stated as plainly as can be that moral obligation rests entirely on an assumed reciprocity, and is therefore wholly egoistic, receiving its interpretation from egoism, which prudently agrees to a compromise on the condition of reciprocity. This would serve to establish the principle of political association, but not the moral principle. Thus, when the "Groundwork," S. 81;—R., S. 67, says: "The principle: Always act on a maxim whose universality as a law you can at the same time will—is the sole condition under which a will can never come into conflict with itself," the true interpretation of the word conflict is this: if a will had sanctioned the maxim of injustice and unkindness, it would later, should it become the suffering party, revoke that maxim and thereby contradict itself.
This explanation makes it perfectly clear that the Kantian fundamental rule is not, as he incessantly maintains, a categorical imperative, but in fact a hypothetical one. For it tacitly rests on the condition that the law I establish for my acting, by raising it to a universal law, also becomes a law for my suffering; and under this condition, as the potentially passive party, I certainly cannot will injustice and unkindness. But if I remove this condition and, perhaps in reliance on my superior powers of mind and body, regard myself, in choosing a universally valid maxim, as always the active party and never the passive one, then—assuming that morality has no foundation other than Kant's—I can very well will injustice and unkindness as a universal maxim, and accordingly order the world
upon the simple plan,That they should take, who have the power,And they should keep, who can.10Wordsworth.
Thus, to the lack of a real foundation for Kant's supreme moral principle demonstrated in the preceding section, there is added, contrary to Kant's express assurance, its concealed hypothetical character. By virtue of this it is even based on mere egoism, the secret interpreter of the instruction it contains. Moreover, considered simply as a formula, it is only a paraphrase, a dressing-up, a veiled expression of the familiar rule: Do not do to another what you do not wish done to yourself—provided, that is, that by repeating it without the two negatives, we free it from the defect of containing duties of justice alone and not those of loving-kindness. For this is plainly the only maxim according to which I can will everyone to act—taking into account, of course, my possibly passive role, and thus my egoism. Yet this rule, Do not do to another what you do not wish, etc., is itself only a paraphrase, or, if one prefers, a premise, of the proposition I have put forward as the simplest and purest expression of the conduct unanimously demanded by all moral systems: Harm no one; rather, help everyone as much as you can. This is and remains the true, pure content of all morality. But on what is it founded? What is it that gives this demand its force? That is the old, difficult problem confronting us again today. For on the other side egoism cries out in a loud voice: Help no one; rather, harm everyone if it happens to serve your interests. Indeed, malice supplies the variant: Rather, harm everyone as much as you can. To set against this egoism, and against malice as well, a champion who is their match and even their superior—that is the problem of all ethics. Here is Rhodes; jump here!—
On S. 57;—R., S. 60, Kant intends to give his proposed moral principle further confirmation by attempting to derive from it the long-recognized division of duties, truly grounded in the nature of morality, into duties of justice—also called perfect, indispensable, or strict duties—and duties of virtue—also called imperfect, wide, or meritorious duties, but best called duties of loving-kindness. Yet the attempt is so strained and so plainly unsuccessful that it bears strong witness against the supreme principle proposed. Duties of justice are supposed to rest on a maxim whose opposite, taken as a universal law of nature, cannot even be conceived without contradiction; duties of virtue, on a maxim whose opposite can indeed be conceived as a universal law of nature, but cannot possibly be willed.—Now I ask the reader to consider that the maxim of injustice, the rule of force in place of right—which, accordingly, is supposed to be impossible even to conceive as a law of nature—is precisely the law that actually and factually rules in nature, not merely in the animal world but in the human world as well. Civilized nations have sought to prevent its harmful consequences by establishing the state; but whenever this institution is abolished or evaded, wherever and however that happens, the law of nature immediately returns. Between nation and nation, however, it rules continually: as everyone knows, the jargon of justice customary among them is merely the official style of diplomacy; brute force decides. Genuine—that is, uncoerced—justice, by contrast, certainly does occur, but always only as an exception to that law of nature. Furthermore, in the examples preceding his division, Kant first illustrates duties of justice (S. 53;—R., S. 48) with the so-called duty to oneself not to end one's life voluntarily when its evils outweigh its pleasures. This maxim, then, is supposed to be impossible even to conceive as a universal law of nature. I say that, since the power of the state cannot intervene here, precisely this maxim manifests itself, unhindered, as an actually existing law of nature. For it is most certainly a general rule that a person actually resorts to suicide as soon as the innate, immensely powerful drive to preserve life is decisively overwhelmed by the magnitude of his suffering: daily experience shows this. But to suppose that any thought at all could restrain him after the fear of death—so powerful and so intimately bound up with the nature of every living thing—has proved powerless to do so; that there is, in other words, a thought still stronger than this fear, is a bold assumption. All the more so when we see that this thought is so difficult to discover that moralists still cannot identify it precisely. At any rate, arguments of the kind Kant advances against suicide on this occasion, S. 53;—R., S. 48, and also S. 67;—R., S. 57, have certainly never held back anyone weary of life for even a moment. Thus a law of nature that indisputably exists in fact and operates every day is declared impossible even to conceive without contradiction, for the sake of deriving the division of duties from Kant's moral principle!—I confess that it gives me some satisfaction, from this point, to look ahead to the foundation of morality I shall set out in the following part. From it the division into duties of justice and duties of loving-kindness—more properly, into justice and human kindness—emerges entirely without strain, through a principle of division arising from the nature of the matter and drawing a sharp boundary of its own accord. My foundation of morality can therefore actually show the confirmation that Kant here claims for his own without any grounds.
10 "By this simple plan,Let whoever has the power take,And whoever can, keep."
Plain English translation
Independent, machine-assisted Plain English translation made directly from the complete 1860 German edition and its embedded passages. Source-language reviewed.
The highest principle of Kant's ethics.
In the last section I examined the actual foundation of Kant's ethics. I now turn to the highest principle of morality that rests on this foundation. It is closely connected with it, indeed fused with it. We remember its wording: "Act only on a maxim that you can at the same time will to hold as a universal law for all rational beings."—It is a strange procedure to tell someone who is assumed to be looking for a law for his own actions that he must first look for one governing the actions of every possible rational being. But let us pass over that. Let us stick to this fact: the basic rule laid down by Kant is plainly not yet the moral principle itself. It is only a rule for finding it, an instruction about where to look. It is, so to speak, not yet cash, but a sound bill of exchange. Who is supposed to cash it? To state the truth at once, a very unexpected paymaster appears here—none other than egoism. I will make this clear immediately.
So the actual moral principle would be the maxim according to which I can will everyone to act. My ability to will is the hinge on which the instruction turns. But what exactly can I will, and what can I not will? To decide what I can will in this respect, I plainly need another standard. Only that standard would give me the key to an instruction delivered like a sealed order. Where should we look for this standard?—Nowhere but in my egoism. This is the nearest, always available, original, living standard for every act of will. It at least has the right of first possession over any moral principle.—The instruction in Kant's highest rule for finding the actual moral principle rests on an unspoken assumption: I can will only what leaves me best off. Now, in setting a maxim that everyone is to follow, I must consider myself not only as always the active party but also as possibly, and at times, the passive party. From this standpoint, my egoism decides in favor of justice and human kindness. It does so not because it wants to practice them, but because it wants to receive them. It thinks like the miser who, after hearing a sermon on charity, cries out:
"How thoroughly explained, how fine!——I almost feel like going out to beg."
Kant cannot avoid supplying this essential key to the instruction that makes up his highest moral principle. But he does not supply it immediately when stating the principle, since that might cause offense. He puts it a respectable distance away, deeper in the text. This keeps it from being obvious that, despite the lofty preparations made independently of experience, egoism actually sits in judgment here and decides the matter. It decides from the standpoint of the possibly passive side, and its decision is then made binding on the active side. Thus, on S. 19;—R., S. 24, we read: "I cannot will a universal law of lying, because people would then no longer believe me, or would pay me back in the same coin."—S. 55;—R., S. 49: "Making it a universal law that everyone could promise whatever occurred to him, intending not to keep the promise, would make promising itself, and any purpose one might have in promising, impossible, since no one would believe it."—On S. 56;—R., S. 50, he says of the maxim of unkindness: "A will that decided on this would contradict itself, since cases can arise in which it needs the love and sympathy of others. Through such a law of nature, arising from its own will, it would rob itself of all hope of the help it wishes for."—Likewise in the Critique of Practical Reason, Th. I, B. 1, Hauptst. 2, S. 123;—R., S. 192: "If everyone looked on the distress of others with complete indifference, and you belonged to such an order of things, would your will really agree to being in it?"—"How rashly we pass an unjust law against ourselves!" would be the answer. These passages explain well enough how to understand the phrase "can will" in Kant's moral principle. But the true state of this principle is stated most clearly in the Metaphysical Foundations of the Doctrine of Virtue, §. 30: "For everyone wishes to be helped. But if he made known his maxim of being unwilling to help others, everyone would be entitled to refuse him help. So the self-interested maxim contradicts itself." Entitled, he says, entitled! Here he states as clearly as possible that moral obligation rests entirely on an assumed reciprocity. It is therefore wholly egoistic, and egoism supplies its interpretation. Under the condition of reciprocity, egoism wisely agrees to a compromise. This would serve to establish the principle of political association, but not the moral principle. So when the Groundwork says, S. 81;—R., S. 67, "The principle: Always act on a maxim whose universality as a law you can at the same time will—is the only condition under which a will can never conflict with itself," the real meaning of "conflict" is this: if a will had approved the maxim of injustice and unkindness, it would later revoke it when it happened to become the party that suffers. It would thus contradict itself.
This explanation makes it perfectly clear that Kant's basic rule is not a categorical imperative, as he constantly claims. It is actually a hypothetical one. It rests on an unspoken condition: when I raise the law I am setting for my actions to the status of a universal law, it also becomes a law for what I undergo. Under this condition, as the potentially passive party, I certainly cannot will injustice and unkindness. But suppose I remove this condition. Perhaps I trust in my superior mental and physical powers, and, in choosing a universally valid maxim, think of myself only as the active party, never the passive one. Then, assuming morality has no foundation other than Kant's, I can very well will injustice and unkindness as a universal maxim. I can therefore arrange the world
upon the simple plan,That they should take, who have the power,And they should keep, who can.10Wordsworth.
So the lack of a real foundation for Kant's highest moral principle, shown in the last section, is joined by its hidden hypothetical character, contrary to Kant's express assurance. Because of this character it even rests on mere egoism, which secretly interprets the instruction it gives. There is a further point. Considered simply as a formula, it is only a roundabout, dressed-up, veiled statement of the familiar rule: "Do not do to another what you do not want done to yourself." To be sure, this rule must be repeated without its two negatives. That removes its defect of containing only duties of justice, not duties of kindness. For this is plainly the only maxim according to which I can will everyone to act—with regard, of course, to my possibly passive role, and thus to my egoism. But this rule, "Do not do to another what you do not want done to yourself," is itself only a roundabout statement, or, if one prefers, a premise, of the proposition I have put forward: "Harm no one; instead, help everyone as much as you can." This is the simplest and purest expression of the conduct that all systems of morality unanimously demand. It is and remains the true, pure content of all morality. But what is its foundation? What gives this demand its force? That is the old, difficult problem now before us again. For on the other side egoism shouts loudly: "Help no one; instead, harm everyone if it happens to benefit you." Malice offers this variation: "Instead, harm everyone as much as you can." To put up a champion who can match and even defeat this egoism, and malice as well—that is the problem of all ethics. Here is Rhodes; jump here!—
On S. 57;—R., S. 60, Kant hopes to confirm the moral principle he has stated in another way. He tries to derive from it the long-recognized division of duties that really does rest on the nature of morality. These are duties of justice, also called perfect, indispensable, or strict duties, and duties of virtue, also called imperfect, broad, or meritorious duties, but best called duties of kindness. Yet his attempt is so forced and plainly unsuccessful that it counts heavily against his highest principle. Duties of justice are supposed to rest on a maxim whose opposite, taken as a universal law of nature, cannot even be thought without contradiction. Duties of virtue, by contrast, rest on a maxim whose opposite one can think of as a universal law of nature, but cannot possibly will.—Now I ask the reader to consider this. The maxim of injustice, the rule of force instead of right, is supposedly impossible even to think of as a law of nature. Yet it is actually the law that really and factually rules in nature, not only among animals but among human beings too. Civilized nations have tried to prevent its harmful effects by setting up the state. But whenever and however this institution is removed or evaded, that law of nature immediately returns. And it constantly rules between nations. As everyone knows, the language of justice used between them is merely the official jargon of diplomacy. Brute force decides. Genuine justice, on the other hand, meaning justice that is not forced, certainly does occur, but always only as an exception to that law of nature. Moreover, in the examples Kant gives before this division, his first illustration of duties of justice is the so-called duty to oneself not to end one's life voluntarily when its pains outweigh its pleasures (S. 53;—R., S. 48). So this maxim is supposedly impossible even to think of as a universal law of nature. I say that, since state power cannot intervene here, precisely this maxim shows itself without obstruction as an actually existing law of nature. For it is certainly a general rule that a person actually resorts to suicide as soon as the greatness of his suffering decisively overcomes the immensely strong, inborn drive to preserve life. Everyday experience shows this. But it is a bold assumption that any thought at all could hold him back once the powerful fear of death, so closely bound up with the nature of every living thing, has proved powerless to do so. Such a thought would have to be stronger even than that fear. The assumption is all the bolder when we see that this thought is so hard to discover that moralists still cannot tell us exactly what it is. At any rate, arguments of the kind Kant gives against suicide on this occasion, S. 53;—R., S. 48, and also S. 67;—R., S. 57, have certainly never held back anyone tired of life for even a moment. So a law of nature that indisputably exists in fact and operates every day is declared impossible even to think of without contradiction, all to support the division of duties derived from Kant's moral principle!—I admit that, from here, I look forward with some satisfaction to the foundation of morality I will present in the next part. The division into duties of justice and kindness—or, more accurately, into justice and human kindness—follows from it without any forcing. A principle of division arising from the nature of the matter draws a sharp boundary entirely on its own. My foundation of morality can thus actually supply the confirmation that Kant claims here for his own without any justification.
10 "By this simple plan,Those who have the power should take,Those who can should keep."
About this section
Section 7 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 8 of 24 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
Open the work page for the full contents, every edition, and the download links, or go back to Explore to browse other complete works in the European tradition. The reader keeps your place when you are signed in and lets you compare the original with each translation, one edition at a time.