Henry Sidgwick- Eye of the Universe

Home > Other > Henry Sidgwick- Eye of the Universe > Page 43
Henry Sidgwick- Eye of the Universe Page 43

by Bart Schultz


  in ).

  These latter strategies are, of course, also plainly suggestive of how,

  in practical terms, the world might be structured to soften the problem

  of the dualism of practical reason, even without benefit of deity. And

  Sidgwick analyzes them in terms of the type of character formation that

  utilitarianism should seek. His treatment of egoism works in parallel, also

  elaborating the most effective forms of socialization and going far beyond

  even a strategic, indirect version of Hobbesian egoism.

  For as we have seen, Sidgwick goes much further in making the case for

  egoism, urging also that egoism is more plausibly construed more high-

  mindedly, as the “Goethean” ideal. Even if he cannot quite see the point of

  aiming at virtue without producing some gain in desirable consciousness

  to someone, he does think that desirable consciousness is largely attached

  to the things praised as virtues. Again, much of this argument involves a

  complex account of the pursuit of happiness by indirect means:

  [B]esides admitting the actual importance of sympathetic pleasures to the majority

  of mankind, I should go further and maintain that, on empirical grounds alone,

  enlightened self-interest would direct most men to foster and develop their sym-

  pathetic susceptibilities to a greater extent than is now commonly attained. The

  P: IJD,JRQ ,FhN,GLS

  cB.xml

  CY/Schultz

  

  February , 

  :

  Consensus versus Chaos

  

  effectiveness of Butler’s famous argument against the vulgar antithesis between

  Self-love and Benevolence is undeniable: and it seems scarcely extravagant to say

  that, amid all the profuse waste of the means of happiness which men commit,

  there is no imprudence more flagrant than that of Selfishness in the ordinary sense

  of the term, – that excessive concentration of attention on the individual’s own

  happiness which renders it impossible for him to feel any strong interest in the

  pleasures and pains of others. The perpetual prominence of self that hence results

  tends to deprive all enjoyments of their keenness and zest, and produce rapid

  satiety and ennui: the selfish man misses the sense of elevation and enlargement given by wide interests; he misses the more secure and serene satisfaction that

  attends continually on activities directed towards ends more stable in prospect

  than an individual’s happiness can be; he misses the peculiar rich sweetness, de-

  pending upon a sort of complex reverberation of sympathy, which is always found

  in services rendered to those whom we love and who are grateful. He is made to

  feel in a thousand various ways, according to the degree of refinement which his

  nature has attained, the discord between the rhythms of his own life and of that

  larger life of which his own is but an insignificant fraction. (ME )

  Direct assault on one’s happiness, or on one’s good conceived in other

  terms, is likely, as with the direct assault on insomnia, only to chase it fur-

  ther and further from one’s grasp. Again, both the egoist and the utilitarian

  can recognize this peculiar feature of happiness, and argue in a two-level

  fashion that the ultimate end to be sought can effectively be sought only by

  such indirect means as, say, cultivating sympathetic dispositions, abiding

  for the most part by rough commonsense moral rules, and so forth. In

  other words, though

  the ‘dictates of Reason’ are always to be obeyed, it does not follow that ‘the dictation of Reason’ – the predominance of consciously moral over non-moral motives –

  is to be promoted without limits; and indeed Common Sense appears to hold that

  some things are likely to be better done, if they are done from other motives than

  conscious obedience to practical Reason or Conscience. (ME )

  And insofar as the utilitarian can go rather further in the assimilation of

  commonsense morality, this is not simply because egoism often takes the

  form of a self-defeating selfishness – Arnoldian complacency was not quite

  that. Recall Sidgwick’s plea for fire and strength over sweetness and light,

  as well as his (partial) assimilation of perfectionism to dogmatic intuitional

  morality.

  Thus, a significant part of Sidgwick’s tactic in coping (or trying to cope)

  with the implications of the dualism of practical reason involved addressing

  P: IJD,JRQ ,FhN,GLS

  cB.xml

  CY/Schultz

  

  February , 

  :

  

  Henry Sidgwick: Eye of the Universe

  how high-minded indirect strategies – as effective social policies – might

  or might not narrow the distance between egoism and utilitarianism. Yet

  in this region, where all the practical details of duty were to be worked

  out, some of the most important calculations only grew hazier. Indeed, an

  additional, quite insidious aspect of this conflict within practical reason is

  suggested by the way in which it could figure, in practical terms, even in

  a more highly evolved utilitarian society, since utilitarianism itself might

  on balance require the very dispositions that would create an analogous

  conflict:

  But allowing all this, it yet seems to me as certain as any conclusion arrived

  at by hedonistic comparison can be, that the utmost development of sympathy,

  intensive and extensive, which is now possible to any but a very few exceptional

  persons, would not cause a perfect coincidence between Utilitarian duty and self-

  interest. . . . Suppose a man finds that a regard for the general good – Utilitarian Duty – demands from him a sacrifice, or extreme risk, of life. There are perhaps

  one or two human beings so dear to him that the remainder of a life saved by

  sacrificing their happiness to his own would be worthless to him from an egoistic

  point of view. But it is doubtful whether many men, ‘sitting down in a cool hour’

  to make the estimate, would affirm even this: and of course that particular portion

  of the general happiness, for which one is called upon to sacrifice one’s own, may

  easily be the happiness of persons not especially dear to one. But again, from this

  normal limitation of our keenest and strongest sympathy to a very small circle of

  human beings, it results that the very development of sympathy may operate to

  increase the weight thrown into the scale against Utilitarian duty. There are very

  few persons, however strongly and widely sympathetic, who are so constituted as

  to feel for the pleasures and pains of mankind generally a degree of sympathy at

  all commensurate with their concern for wife or children, or lover, or intimate

  friend: and if any training of the affections is at present possible which would

  materially alter this proportion in the general distribution of our sympathy, it

  scarcely seems that such training is to be recommended as on the whole felicific.

  And thus when Utilitarian Duty calls on us to sacrifice not only our own pleasures

&nbs
p; but the happiness of those we love to the general good, the very sanction on which

  Utilitarianism most relies must act powerfully in opposition to its precepts. (ME

  –)

  This account suggests the possibility that even the best of mundane ex-

  perience might be fairly rife with paradox and practical compromise. For

  Sidgwick, the unsatisfactoriness of the world without some form of reli-

  gious enchantment is hard to blink. There may be irreducible trade-offs

  P: IJD,JRQ ,FhN,GLS

  cB.xml

  CY/Schultz

  

  February , 

  :

  Consensus versus Chaos

  

  in trying to expand the circle of one’s sympathetic concern, such that

  the attempt to render it more effective in the large may actually render

  it less effective in the small. It would, of course, be nice if there were

  more precise methods for comparing the various optimizing strategies,

  but these, on Sidgwick’s account, are for the much further future. Ulti-

  mately, he rejects the attempts to find a deductive or “scientific short-cut

  to the ascertainment of the right means to the individual’s happiness,” a

  “high priori road,” as it were, whether in the form of an account of the

  psychophysical sources of pleasure and pain or in the form of a Spencerian

  account of the preservation of life, and he does so because such efforts are

  still immature and at best yield only “a vague and general rule, based on

  considerations which it is important not to overlook, but the relative value

  of which we can only estimate by careful observation and comparison of

  individual experiences” (ME ). Thus, there can be no appeal beyond

  reflective experience, and reflective experience is deeply problematic and

  opaque. Why, after all, might not the evolution of common sense be replete

  with productive forms of delusion, perhaps ethical as well as religious?

  Still, Sidgwick’s treatment of both the external and internal sanctions

  that utilitarianism might deploy is remarkably wide-ranging and not alto-

  gether unpractical. The strictures of utilitarianism may require that one

  painfully reign in even one’s philanthropic impulses, if such charity in the

  small turns out to be the less effective means to the greatest happiness.

  Or again, a man may find that he can best promote the general happiness by

  working in comparative solitude for ends that he never hopes to see realised, or by

  working chiefly among and for persons for whom he cannot feel much affection,

  or by doing what must alienate or grieve those whom he loves best, or must

  make it necessary for him to dispense with the most intimate of human ties. In

  short, there seem to be numberless ways in which the dictates of that Rational

  Benevolence, which as a Utilitarian he is bound absolutely to obey, may conflict

  with that indulgence of kind affections which Shaftesbury and his followers so

  persuasively exhibit as its own reward. (ME )

  Utilitarian sympathy was not to be confused with sentimentalism.

  It is hard, in reading such passages, not to think back to the dilemmas of

  Sidgwick’s resignation crisis, or to the issue of subscription generally, and

  all the ways in which the most painful of these conflicts had, in his mind,

  to do with those who acted hypocritically out of the best motives – “pious

  fraud” or “sweetness and light.” Which is, of course, not to deny that he

  P: IJD,JRQ ,FhN,GLS

  cB.xml

  CY/Schultz

  

  February , 

  :

  

  Henry Sidgwick: Eye of the Universe

  also worried about the “sensual herd,” those who needed both reassurance

  about the motives of people in high places and orthodox religion as their

  “real elevator.” Self-sacrifice was a problem across the board. But worrying

  about the force of the better argument and worrying about the force of

  the working class or “lower races” were not exactly the same thing. The

  Methods, for all its candor, does tend resolutely to stress the former and

  ignore the latter, veiling the social and political realities that made the

  dualism of practical reason a pervasive source of such practical anxiety

  for Sidgwick. And it hardly conveys the quite singular way in which this

  dualism was an abstract reflection of Sidgwick’s personal struggle to unify

  duty and friendship, suggestive as the above passages may be. What if

  high-minded utilitarian soaring derived from such concrete particular

  relationships as Apostolic friendships?

  As later sections and chapters will spell out, the Methods does take on a

  very different aspect when read in the light of Sidgwick’s various life crises

  and other writings. His preoccupations did shape its construction, did in-

  fluence what was said and what was left unsaid. Would Sidgwick have

  included himself among the “very few exceptional persons” capable of

  fully assimilating and acting upon the utilitarian orientation out of a supe-

  rior sympathy? Could he thus be exempted from the dislocation between

  theory and practice (or justification and motivation) of which Williams

  complained? Just how many levels of moral thinking did he allow himself

  or other “moral saints”? How utopian was the “ideal” utilitarian society?

  How many trade-offs or compromises would it represent? What was the

  message of the Methods, on balance, when it came to that cultural evolution

  toward a more comprehensive sympathy and greater willingness for self-

  sacrifice that Sidgwick had apparently worked toward so assiduously in so

  many ways? For all his reluctance to enter into the details of psychology,

  he does suggest a tentative theory of moral psychological maturation:

  Perhaps, indeed, we may trace a general law of variation in the relative proportion

  of these two elements as exhibited in the development of the moral consciousness

  both in the race and in individuals; for it seems that at a certain stage of this

  development the mind is more susceptible to emotions connected with abstract

  moral ideas and rules presented as absolute; while after emerging from this stage

  and before entering it the feelings that belong to personal relations are stronger.

  Certainly in a Utilitarian’s mind sympathy tends to become a prominent element

  of all instinctive moral feelings that refer to social conduct; as in his view the

  rational basis of the moral impulse must ultimately lie in some pleasure won or

  P: IJD,JRQ ,FhN,GLS

  cB.xml

  CY/Schultz

  

  February , 

  :

  Consensus versus Chaos

  

  pain saved for himself or for others; so that he never has to sacrifice himself to an Impersonal Law, but always for some being or beings with whom he has at least

  some degree of fellow-feeling. (ME –)

&nb
sp; Sidgwick’s objections to sentimentalism notwithstanding, there is noth-

  ing far-fetched in finding in such passages anticipations of a distinctively

  utilitarian critique of neo-Kantian, Kohlbergian accounts of the stages of

  moral development. Although it may not be terribly surprising that

  Sidgwick would interpret this process of maturation, both individual and

  social, as a growth through obedience to abstract rules to a capacity for

  empathy focused on real relations to other sentient beings, very little at-

  tention has been directed to his contributions in this area. Obviously,

  his own Apostolic development took something like this form, what with

  his emphasis on friendship.

  Still, where did all this sophisticated theorizing lead, when it came to

  the brute force of the dualism of practical reason as a potential reality of

  mundane moral experience? Where, in the end, did Sidgwick actually come

  down on how far the circle of sympathy might expand? How self-effacingly

  utilitarian might the egoist become? Sidgwick’s view of utilitarianism often

  outdid Mill’s in its high-minded soaring: “Universal Happiness, desirable

  consciousness or feeling for the innumerable multitude of living beings,

  present and to come” – this was “an end that satisfies our imagination by

  its vastness, and sustains our resolution by its comparative security.” But

  just whose imagination did he have in mind? Was this clerisy a Eurocentric

  one? And was this a matter of reason, or of emotion? Of justification, or of

  motivation? And either way, why, with this vision of societal and individual

  maturation before him, was he always so terribly anxious about the future,

  his own and that of civilization?

  V. Practical Chaos

  Yet Prof. Sidgwick holds that Egoism is rational; and it will be useful briefly to

  consider the reasons which he gives for this absurd conclusion. ‘The Egoist,’

  he says . . . ‘may avoid the proof of Utilitarianism by declining to affirm,’ either

  ‘implicitly or explicitly, that his own greatest happiness is not merely the ultimate rational end for himself, but a part of Universal Good.’ And in the passage to

  which he here refers us, as having there ‘seen’ this, he says: ‘It cannot be proved

  that the difference between his own happiness and another’s happiness is not

  for him all-important’. . . . What does Prof. Sidgwick mean by these phrases ‘the

 

‹ Prev