Ethics in a Democracy
Podcast # 9: Minimal Morality
Episode # 9 (29:50)
At the beginning of this series I defined philosophical ethics as “the rational analysis and justification of fundamental moral concepts, principles, decisions, and actions.” I have emphasized the need to focus only on what is morally binding for all people, and the result is a way of thinking that ignores many values that are often included in ethical theories. This may seem unduly Spartan. However, the minimal character of this approach to morality is necessary if it is to be applied universally — to everyone. Following Kant, I have included only a single moral principle, an imperative that is categorical, which means that it allows no exceptions. No matter how rich, how attractive, how intelligent, or how strong we are, every person is bound by this principle. That is also what makes it the one and only moral principle that is suitable for a genuine democracy. This single principle has three aspects — universality, autonomy, and the claim that all people have intrinsic value.
This approach also opens the way for people to explore and manifest a rich array of values without impediments that claim moral justification but have no moral standing. Following the universal moral law is necessary, but not sufficient, for a good life. Plato’s dialogues explore many of the other values that enrich human life. I do not think that Plato primarily intended his audience to follow Socrates and become a martyr for the sake of the truth. Plato’s Socrates is a character he created to show how dialectical thinking might be applied to a variety of issues and concerns. His other characters offer other values, some of which are also important for individuals and for groups of people.
For example, take this exchange among Socrates, Adeimantus, and Glaucon in Book 2 of Plato’s Republic. The topic is the kind of republic that would promote justice, one of the key aspects of ethics.
Socrates: Then where are justice and injustice? In what part of our republic can we find them?
Adeimantus: I can’t imagine where they are to be found, unless it is in the relations of the citizens with each other.
Socrates: You may be right, but we should not leave it at that; we need to examine your suggestion carefully. Let’s first consider their lifestyle as we have provided for it. Won’t they produce grain, wine, clothes, and shoes as well as build houses? They will work in the summer stripped and barefoot, but in the winter they will wear both clothes and shoes. They will feed on barley-meal and wheat flour, kneaded and baked, making excellent cakes and breads, serving them on a mat of reeds or clean leaves. While they feast, they and their children will recline on beds of yew or myrtle boughs, drinking wine, wearing garlands on their heads, and singing hymns to the gods. They will enjoy making love, but avoid producing too many children so that they can live within their means, avoiding poverty and war.
Glaucon: But Socrates, you haven’t provided any delicacies for their banquet.
Socrates: True, I forgot about that. Of course they should have delicacies—some salt, olives, cheese, onions, and greens, boiled with herbs as they do in the country. For dessert we will serve them figs, chickpeas, and beans; they will drink in moderation while roasting myrtle-berries and nuts over the fire. Living on such a diet, they can expect to live in peace and reach a ripe old age, passing on a similar life to their children.
Glaucon: Right, Socrates, and if you were establishing a republic of pigs, isn’t this exactly how you would feed them?
Socrates: Then how would you do it, Glaucon?
Glaucon: They should have the amenities of the good life. To be comfortable, people are used to lying on couches and dining from tables; they should have delicacies and dessert in the modern fashion.
Socrates: Now I understand. You don’t merely want to consider how a republic comes into existence; you are interested in establishing a luxurious one. That’s not a bad idea, because in such a republic we are likely to see how justice and injustice develop. I think that we have already described a true republic, a healthy one, but if you would like to consider a luxurious one, let’s do that. I suppose that few people will be satisfied with the simple life. They will want to add couches, tables, and other furniture; delicacies, perfumes, incense; and prostitutes and pastries of all kinds. We should not limit our imagination to the needs I spoke about before, such as houses, clothes, and shoes. We must call upon painters and embroiderers, so gold, ivory, and similar materials will be needed.
Glaucon: I agree.
Socrates: Then our original healthy republic is too small, so we must create a larger one. We must fill it with a multitude of occupations which go far beyond basic needs, such as hunters; and imitators (both visual artists who work with shape and color and musicians), poets and the rhapsodists who cling to them, actors, dancers, contractors; and people who make all kinds of ornaments, especially the ones used by women. And we will need more servants. Won’t we need tutors, wet nurses, baby sitters, hairdressers, beauticians, pastry makers, and chefs? And what about swineherds? We didn’t need them in the healthy republic, but now we need them and herds of other kinds of animals if people wish to eat meat.
Glaucon: No doubt.
Socrates: With such a lifestyle, won’t they have a greater need for doctors?
Glaucon: Much greater.
Socrates: In our first republic we had enough land to support our population, but won’t there be too little now?
Glaucon: You are right about that.
Socrates: Then we’ll need a piece of our neighbor’s land for pasture and farming. But they will want a piece of ours, if, like us, they go beyond basic needs and devote themselves to the unlimited acquisition of wealth.
Glaucon: That seems inevitable.
Socrates: And then we will go to war, Glaucon. That will be the next step.
Glaucon: I don’t see how we can avoid it.
Socrates: It’s premature to say whether waging war produces good or bad, but we have already discovered the causes of war which are also the causes of nearly all public and private evils in a republic.
Glaucon: That’s for sure.
Socrates: Then once again we must enlarge our republic, this time adding nothing less than a whole army, one capable of fighting invaders to defend both our property and our citizens (Plato’s Republic, published by Agora Publications, Inc., 2001, pp, 371-373).
Plato’s brothers, Glaucon and Adeimantus, serve as the historical models for these fictional characters. They are members of the Athenian aristocracy who owned property, held high office, and manifested the values widely sought in their community. This does not mean Plato is endorsing their worldview, but it does mean that analysis and justification of those other values must include them and people like them in the conversation. The minimal society that Socrates proposes would make it much easier to follow the universal moral law than the one Glaucon favors, which quickly leads to oligarchy, timocracy, and other forms of what Socrates calls “flawed republics.”
The challenge that Plato lays out not only in The Republic but also in several other dialogues requires a philosophy that incorporates the universal moral principle of justice as well as the symphony of values that emerge as human life evolves and society becomes more complex. Whether or not that way of life is possible to achieve is one of the major topics Plato explores throughout his dialogues. As we move from the minimal requirements of morality to the many values that people embrace, we move from ethics; to politics; to the arts and crafts; to religion; and to a variety of other fields of inquiry and activity. Instead of narrowly focusing on what is just and morally right, the category of goodness emerges as the holistic value that integrates and embraces several others, such as courage, moderation, beauty, and wisdom. As desirable as these values are, and as widespread as is their appeal, there is little hope of prescribing a republic that would incorporate all of them. In other words, they are not categorical demands but goals that may or may not be embraced by the variety of people that make up any given society. A utopia that tries to impose such diverse values on everyone is doomed to fail. In ancient Greek, u-topos means “no place.” Plato’s Republic does not present the blueprint for a monolithic utopia. That kind of social engineering usually turns out to be something like Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World or George Orwell’s 1984. As the dialectical development of The Republic unfolds we see three republics, beginning with the republic of health that Glaucon derided as suitable for pigs, moving to the republic of wealth that produces oligarchy, and progressing to the republic of wisdom. Professor Joseph Uemura presents this interpretation of Plato’s Republic in his book called Reflections on the Mind of Plato: Six Dialogues. Here is an excerpt from his introduction to that chapter:
Plato meant to cure us of utopias, not to create one. His reason for composing the Republic is quite plain: Plato wanted to show us how utterly futile is the “making of utopias,” the “building of Castles in Spain,” or the creation of “Cities in the Sun.” On the contrary, he wanted to show us how infinitely important is the building up of what we, intrinsically and inherently, are, namely thinking human beings. …
In what follows, then, I wish to show the main argument of the Republic as a whole, not in bits and pieces — as it is usually taken. When it is taken this way, it is a clear and simple plan or argument that Plato is making: (1) First, after the preliminary rejection of some very popular philosophical views, there is the simple rejection of any society that is controlled by the “love of health.” (2) Second, there is the rather extended argument in rejection of any society that is controlled by the “love of wealth and luxury.” The reason, clearly, that this argument is extended is that such a motif is so dominant in human nature that it is the most difficult of desires to be dismissed. (3) Third, alas, there remains only the best possible aim for any human being, in whatever society one might find oneself, namely, a personal and social order which is controlled by the “love of wisdom,” as curious, silly, or strange as it might sound to the popular or political ear.
I shall conclude, of course, that if one follows this argument itself, it will become crystal clear that Plato meant to cure us of the romance and fever of utopian thinking and the “making of ideal societies.” He certainly meant, as he does in all of the other dialogues, to purge us of many, not to say most or even all, seductive notions of “what might have been,” or “what should have been otherwise.” Plato always meant to curb or curtail “easy belief,” and even “justified true belief.” He always laughed at naïve idealism, and guffawed at “pie in the sky.” How, then, is it possible that he would not wish us to make fun of utopian politicians. Surely, he did not want us to encourage the rascals! (Reflections on the Mind of Plato, published by Agora Publications, Inc., pp. 119-121).
In the modern world, John Stuart Mill is probably the most articulate and convincing supporter of the view of society that favors minimal morality and maximum freedom for individuals. His analysis carries with it both a strong case for liberty and a strenuous demand for civic responsibility. Let’s take a closer look at the major features of Mill’s case for liberty. In Chapter 1 of On Liberty Mill clearly states the subject of his essay. It is “civil or social liberty: the nature and limits of the power that can be legitimately exercised by society over the individual” (On Liberty, published by Agora Publications, Inc., 2003, p. 1). This topic relates directly to the issue of ethics in a democracy. Mill offers a view of liberty that is closely connected with Kant’s idea of autonomy and Plato’s way of thinking about justice. Mill agrees with Plato’s critique of the form of so-called democracy that really turns out to be what Mill calls “the tyranny of the majority” (Mill, On Liberty, p. 5), which he says is more of a threat to liberty than previous forms of domination. Mill puts it this way:
Like other tyrannies, the tyranny of the majority was at first and is still commonly held in dread, chiefly as operating through the acts of the public authorities. … Society can and does execute its own mandates, and if it issues wrong mandates instead of right, or any mandates at all in things with which it ought not to meddle, it practices a social tyranny more formidable than many kinds of political oppression. … Protection, therefore, against the tyranny of the magistrate is not enough. We need protection also against the tyranny of prevailing opinion and feeling; against the tendency of society to impose, by other means than civil penalties, its own ideas and practices as rules of conduct on those who dissent. … There is a limit to the legitimate interference of collective opinion with individual independence. To find that limit and maintain it against encroachment is as indispensable to a good condition of human affairs as protection against political despotism (Mill, On Liberty, p. 5).
In the 21st Century these two forms of tyranny have come together. Political oppression uses public opinion to maintain and foster its control over the minds of the people it rules. Many people have the illusion that they are choosing freely, but without the kind of education and critical evaluation that is required for civic action they are blind and impotent. Coercion has become moral manipulation rather than autonomy. Mill states his central thesis this way:
The object of this essay is to assert one very simple principle. … The principle that the sole end for which humanity is warranted, individually or collectively in interfering with the liberty of action of any of its members, is self-protection. The only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over members of a civilized community, against their will, is to prevent harm to others. Their own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant. They cannot rightfully be compelled to do or not to do so because it will be better for them; or because it will make them happier; or because, in the opinion of others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for pleading with them, or reasoning with them, or persuading them, or entreating them, but not for compelling them, or visiting them with any evil in case they do otherwise. … The only part of our conduct for which we are amenable to society is that which concerns others. In the part that merely concerns our self, our independence is rightfully absolute. Over our self, over our own body and mind, the individual is sovereign (Mill’s On Liberty, pp. 11-12).
Mill is here taking a firm stand on the side of what I have called minimal morality. He is not saying that individuals lack social obligation and responsibility for other people. On the contrary he vehemently supports active participation in the common good. He says:
It would be a great misunderstanding of this doctrine to suppose that it is one of selfish indifference, which pretends that human beings have no business with each other’s conduct in life and that they should not concern themselves about the well doing or wellbeing of one another unless their own interest is involved. Instead of any decrease, there is need of a great increase of disinterested effort to promote the good of others. … I am the last person to undervalue the self-regarding virtues; they are next in importance … to the social. It is the business of education to cultivate both equally. But even education works by conviction and persuasion as well as by compulsion, and it is only by persuasion — when the period of education is past — that the self-regarding virtues should be inculcated. Human beings owe each other help to distinguish the better from the worse and encouragement to choose the better and avoid the worse. They should be forever stimulating each other to increased exercise of their higher faculties and increased direction of their feelings and aims towards wise instead of foolish objects and contemplations that elevate rather than degrade them (Mill’s On Liberty, pp. 91-92).
Mill’s concept of liberty, like Kant’s idea of autonomy, emphasizes freedom both for individuals and for groups of people, and it also encourages social responsibility.
Kant is better known for his ethical philosophy than for his political theory, but he did write several essays that have strong political content. Here, again, we have evidence of value theory that goes beyond the strict limits of the universal moral law. For example, the value of peace emerges as an important theme for Kant in his essay titled Toward Lasting Peace. In that essay Kant does not call for a world government, which might seem to follow from his insistence on the universality of the moral law. Instead he argues that to establish lasting peace “international law should be established by a federation of free states” (Toward Lasting Peace, translated by Lieselotte Anderson and published by Agora Publications, Inc., 2007, p. 83). In the 20th century, the ideas Kant presents in this essay were manifested initially in the League of Nations and then in the United Nations.
Kant does not base his idea of lasting peace among nations directly on ethics but on politics. However, his political ideas are consistent with his ethical philosophy even when he goes beyond ethics and focuses on other values. An important distinction emerges in the essay Toward Lasting Peace that relates directly to the topic of this series of podcasts — ethics in a democracy. Kant says: “The civil constitution of every state should be that of a republican system” (Toward Lasting Peace, p. 81). He means that the constitution should be that of a republic rather than a democracy. Kant rejects democracy, which, he says, is “necessarily despotism.” Why does he say that? Because, according to the way he uses the term democracy, there is no distinction between the executive power and the legislative power. This leads to another form of what Mill called the tyranny of the majority. This, of course, is not the form of government that was created in the U.S. Constitution, which clearly separates the legislative, executive, and judicial functions of government. The kind of democracy that Kant rejects is also the form that Plato’s character Socrates discards in Book 8 of The Republic. On the other hand, Kant’s definition of the republican form of government is precisely what is exemplified in the U. S. Constitution. He says: “Republicanism is the kind of principle by which the executive power of government separates itself from the legislative power” (p. 82). Here is his description of the key features of the republican form of government:
All legal force of law must be based on the following principles: First, the principle of freedom for all members — as human beings — in a society; second, the principle of dependence — as subjects — on a single shared system of legislation; and third, a constitution based on the principle of equality for all — as citizens. With regard to the law, it is, by definition, that on which all other forms of civil constitution are based and from which they originate (p. 81).
This is the form of government I call democracy in this series of podcasts, but the name is not the important part. What matters is the form of government and the ethical foundation on which it rests. It is evident from the passage I just quoted that Kant appeals to the universal moral law as he justifies the freedom for all members of society and the principle of equality for all citizens.
Peace is not a natural condition. “The state of nature is a state of war” (Toward Lasting Peace, p. 80). The same is true of other values manifested in organizations created by people. Peace has to be established in practice. The same is true of justice, wisdom, economic wellbeing, and health. In order to manifest such values in human life, the right kind of communities must be created. How should that be done? Philosophy cannot provide a full answer to that question. Philosophers can and should address the fundamental question of education, especially the kind that prepares people to become thoughtful and critical citizens. The dialectical form of inquiry exemplified in Plato’s dialogues is essential to that kind of education. Beyond that, implementation of the good life lies in the hands of individuals and of groups of people. Many disciplines and professions contribute to that quest. What I have tried to show in this series of podcasts is that morality is the essential foundation of genuine democracy.
Podcast # 9: Minimal Morality
Episode # 9 (29:50)
At the beginning of this series I defined philosophical ethics as “the rational analysis and justification of fundamental moral concepts, principles, decisions, and actions.” I have emphasized the need to focus only on what is morally binding for all people, and the result is a way of thinking that ignores many values that are often included in ethical theories. This may seem unduly Spartan. However, the minimal character of this approach to morality is necessary if it is to be applied universally — to everyone. Following Kant, I have included only a single moral principle, an imperative that is categorical, which means that it allows no exceptions. No matter how rich, how attractive, how intelligent, or how strong we are, every person is bound by this principle. That is also what makes it the one and only moral principle that is suitable for a genuine democracy. This single principle has three aspects — universality, autonomy, and the claim that all people have intrinsic value.
This approach also opens the way for people to explore and manifest a rich array of values without impediments that claim moral justification but have no moral standing. Following the universal moral law is necessary, but not sufficient, for a good life. Plato’s dialogues explore many of the other values that enrich human life. I do not think that Plato primarily intended his audience to follow Socrates and become a martyr for the sake of the truth. Plato’s Socrates is a character he created to show how dialectical thinking might be applied to a variety of issues and concerns. His other characters offer other values, some of which are also important for individuals and for groups of people.
For example, take this exchange among Socrates, Adeimantus, and Glaucon in Book 2 of Plato’s Republic. The topic is the kind of republic that would promote justice, one of the key aspects of ethics.
Socrates: Then where are justice and injustice? In what part of our republic can we find them?
Adeimantus: I can’t imagine where they are to be found, unless it is in the relations of the citizens with each other.
Socrates: You may be right, but we should not leave it at that; we need to examine your suggestion carefully. Let’s first consider their lifestyle as we have provided for it. Won’t they produce grain, wine, clothes, and shoes as well as build houses? They will work in the summer stripped and barefoot, but in the winter they will wear both clothes and shoes. They will feed on barley-meal and wheat flour, kneaded and baked, making excellent cakes and breads, serving them on a mat of reeds or clean leaves. While they feast, they and their children will recline on beds of yew or myrtle boughs, drinking wine, wearing garlands on their heads, and singing hymns to the gods. They will enjoy making love, but avoid producing too many children so that they can live within their means, avoiding poverty and war.
Glaucon: But Socrates, you haven’t provided any delicacies for their banquet.
Socrates: True, I forgot about that. Of course they should have delicacies—some salt, olives, cheese, onions, and greens, boiled with herbs as they do in the country. For dessert we will serve them figs, chickpeas, and beans; they will drink in moderation while roasting myrtle-berries and nuts over the fire. Living on such a diet, they can expect to live in peace and reach a ripe old age, passing on a similar life to their children.
Glaucon: Right, Socrates, and if you were establishing a republic of pigs, isn’t this exactly how you would feed them?
Socrates: Then how would you do it, Glaucon?
Glaucon: They should have the amenities of the good life. To be comfortable, people are used to lying on couches and dining from tables; they should have delicacies and dessert in the modern fashion.
Socrates: Now I understand. You don’t merely want to consider how a republic comes into existence; you are interested in establishing a luxurious one. That’s not a bad idea, because in such a republic we are likely to see how justice and injustice develop. I think that we have already described a true republic, a healthy one, but if you would like to consider a luxurious one, let’s do that. I suppose that few people will be satisfied with the simple life. They will want to add couches, tables, and other furniture; delicacies, perfumes, incense; and prostitutes and pastries of all kinds. We should not limit our imagination to the needs I spoke about before, such as houses, clothes, and shoes. We must call upon painters and embroiderers, so gold, ivory, and similar materials will be needed.
Glaucon: I agree.
Socrates: Then our original healthy republic is too small, so we must create a larger one. We must fill it with a multitude of occupations which go far beyond basic needs, such as hunters; and imitators (both visual artists who work with shape and color and musicians), poets and the rhapsodists who cling to them, actors, dancers, contractors; and people who make all kinds of ornaments, especially the ones used by women. And we will need more servants. Won’t we need tutors, wet nurses, baby sitters, hairdressers, beauticians, pastry makers, and chefs? And what about swineherds? We didn’t need them in the healthy republic, but now we need them and herds of other kinds of animals if people wish to eat meat.
Glaucon: No doubt.
Socrates: With such a lifestyle, won’t they have a greater need for doctors?
Glaucon: Much greater.
Socrates: In our first republic we had enough land to support our population, but won’t there be too little now?
Glaucon: You are right about that.
Socrates: Then we’ll need a piece of our neighbor’s land for pasture and farming. But they will want a piece of ours, if, like us, they go beyond basic needs and devote themselves to the unlimited acquisition of wealth.
Glaucon: That seems inevitable.
Socrates: And then we will go to war, Glaucon. That will be the next step.
Glaucon: I don’t see how we can avoid it.
Socrates: It’s premature to say whether waging war produces good or bad, but we have already discovered the causes of war which are also the causes of nearly all public and private evils in a republic.
Glaucon: That’s for sure.
Socrates: Then once again we must enlarge our republic, this time adding nothing less than a whole army, one capable of fighting invaders to defend both our property and our citizens (Plato’s Republic, published by Agora Publications, Inc., 2001, pp, 371-373).
Plato’s brothers, Glaucon and Adeimantus, serve as the historical models for these fictional characters. They are members of the Athenian aristocracy who owned property, held high office, and manifested the values widely sought in their community. This does not mean Plato is endorsing their worldview, but it does mean that analysis and justification of those other values must include them and people like them in the conversation. The minimal society that Socrates proposes would make it much easier to follow the universal moral law than the one Glaucon favors, which quickly leads to oligarchy, timocracy, and other forms of what Socrates calls “flawed republics.”
The challenge that Plato lays out not only in The Republic but also in several other dialogues requires a philosophy that incorporates the universal moral principle of justice as well as the symphony of values that emerge as human life evolves and society becomes more complex. Whether or not that way of life is possible to achieve is one of the major topics Plato explores throughout his dialogues. As we move from the minimal requirements of morality to the many values that people embrace, we move from ethics; to politics; to the arts and crafts; to religion; and to a variety of other fields of inquiry and activity. Instead of narrowly focusing on what is just and morally right, the category of goodness emerges as the holistic value that integrates and embraces several others, such as courage, moderation, beauty, and wisdom. As desirable as these values are, and as widespread as is their appeal, there is little hope of prescribing a republic that would incorporate all of them. In other words, they are not categorical demands but goals that may or may not be embraced by the variety of people that make up any given society. A utopia that tries to impose such diverse values on everyone is doomed to fail. In ancient Greek, u-topos means “no place.” Plato’s Republic does not present the blueprint for a monolithic utopia. That kind of social engineering usually turns out to be something like Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World or George Orwell’s 1984. As the dialectical development of The Republic unfolds we see three republics, beginning with the republic of health that Glaucon derided as suitable for pigs, moving to the republic of wealth that produces oligarchy, and progressing to the republic of wisdom. Professor Joseph Uemura presents this interpretation of Plato’s Republic in his book called Reflections on the Mind of Plato: Six Dialogues. Here is an excerpt from his introduction to that chapter:
Plato meant to cure us of utopias, not to create one. His reason for composing the Republic is quite plain: Plato wanted to show us how utterly futile is the “making of utopias,” the “building of Castles in Spain,” or the creation of “Cities in the Sun.” On the contrary, he wanted to show us how infinitely important is the building up of what we, intrinsically and inherently, are, namely thinking human beings. …
In what follows, then, I wish to show the main argument of the Republic as a whole, not in bits and pieces — as it is usually taken. When it is taken this way, it is a clear and simple plan or argument that Plato is making: (1) First, after the preliminary rejection of some very popular philosophical views, there is the simple rejection of any society that is controlled by the “love of health.” (2) Second, there is the rather extended argument in rejection of any society that is controlled by the “love of wealth and luxury.” The reason, clearly, that this argument is extended is that such a motif is so dominant in human nature that it is the most difficult of desires to be dismissed. (3) Third, alas, there remains only the best possible aim for any human being, in whatever society one might find oneself, namely, a personal and social order which is controlled by the “love of wisdom,” as curious, silly, or strange as it might sound to the popular or political ear.
I shall conclude, of course, that if one follows this argument itself, it will become crystal clear that Plato meant to cure us of the romance and fever of utopian thinking and the “making of ideal societies.” He certainly meant, as he does in all of the other dialogues, to purge us of many, not to say most or even all, seductive notions of “what might have been,” or “what should have been otherwise.” Plato always meant to curb or curtail “easy belief,” and even “justified true belief.” He always laughed at naïve idealism, and guffawed at “pie in the sky.” How, then, is it possible that he would not wish us to make fun of utopian politicians. Surely, he did not want us to encourage the rascals! (Reflections on the Mind of Plato, published by Agora Publications, Inc., pp. 119-121).
In the modern world, John Stuart Mill is probably the most articulate and convincing supporter of the view of society that favors minimal morality and maximum freedom for individuals. His analysis carries with it both a strong case for liberty and a strenuous demand for civic responsibility. Let’s take a closer look at the major features of Mill’s case for liberty. In Chapter 1 of On Liberty Mill clearly states the subject of his essay. It is “civil or social liberty: the nature and limits of the power that can be legitimately exercised by society over the individual” (On Liberty, published by Agora Publications, Inc., 2003, p. 1). This topic relates directly to the issue of ethics in a democracy. Mill offers a view of liberty that is closely connected with Kant’s idea of autonomy and Plato’s way of thinking about justice. Mill agrees with Plato’s critique of the form of so-called democracy that really turns out to be what Mill calls “the tyranny of the majority” (Mill, On Liberty, p. 5), which he says is more of a threat to liberty than previous forms of domination. Mill puts it this way:
Like other tyrannies, the tyranny of the majority was at first and is still commonly held in dread, chiefly as operating through the acts of the public authorities. … Society can and does execute its own mandates, and if it issues wrong mandates instead of right, or any mandates at all in things with which it ought not to meddle, it practices a social tyranny more formidable than many kinds of political oppression. … Protection, therefore, against the tyranny of the magistrate is not enough. We need protection also against the tyranny of prevailing opinion and feeling; against the tendency of society to impose, by other means than civil penalties, its own ideas and practices as rules of conduct on those who dissent. … There is a limit to the legitimate interference of collective opinion with individual independence. To find that limit and maintain it against encroachment is as indispensable to a good condition of human affairs as protection against political despotism (Mill, On Liberty, p. 5).
In the 21st Century these two forms of tyranny have come together. Political oppression uses public opinion to maintain and foster its control over the minds of the people it rules. Many people have the illusion that they are choosing freely, but without the kind of education and critical evaluation that is required for civic action they are blind and impotent. Coercion has become moral manipulation rather than autonomy. Mill states his central thesis this way:
The object of this essay is to assert one very simple principle. … The principle that the sole end for which humanity is warranted, individually or collectively in interfering with the liberty of action of any of its members, is self-protection. The only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over members of a civilized community, against their will, is to prevent harm to others. Their own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant. They cannot rightfully be compelled to do or not to do so because it will be better for them; or because it will make them happier; or because, in the opinion of others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for pleading with them, or reasoning with them, or persuading them, or entreating them, but not for compelling them, or visiting them with any evil in case they do otherwise. … The only part of our conduct for which we are amenable to society is that which concerns others. In the part that merely concerns our self, our independence is rightfully absolute. Over our self, over our own body and mind, the individual is sovereign (Mill’s On Liberty, pp. 11-12).
Mill is here taking a firm stand on the side of what I have called minimal morality. He is not saying that individuals lack social obligation and responsibility for other people. On the contrary he vehemently supports active participation in the common good. He says:
It would be a great misunderstanding of this doctrine to suppose that it is one of selfish indifference, which pretends that human beings have no business with each other’s conduct in life and that they should not concern themselves about the well doing or wellbeing of one another unless their own interest is involved. Instead of any decrease, there is need of a great increase of disinterested effort to promote the good of others. … I am the last person to undervalue the self-regarding virtues; they are next in importance … to the social. It is the business of education to cultivate both equally. But even education works by conviction and persuasion as well as by compulsion, and it is only by persuasion — when the period of education is past — that the self-regarding virtues should be inculcated. Human beings owe each other help to distinguish the better from the worse and encouragement to choose the better and avoid the worse. They should be forever stimulating each other to increased exercise of their higher faculties and increased direction of their feelings and aims towards wise instead of foolish objects and contemplations that elevate rather than degrade them (Mill’s On Liberty, pp. 91-92).
Mill’s concept of liberty, like Kant’s idea of autonomy, emphasizes freedom both for individuals and for groups of people, and it also encourages social responsibility.
Kant is better known for his ethical philosophy than for his political theory, but he did write several essays that have strong political content. Here, again, we have evidence of value theory that goes beyond the strict limits of the universal moral law. For example, the value of peace emerges as an important theme for Kant in his essay titled Toward Lasting Peace. In that essay Kant does not call for a world government, which might seem to follow from his insistence on the universality of the moral law. Instead he argues that to establish lasting peace “international law should be established by a federation of free states” (Toward Lasting Peace, translated by Lieselotte Anderson and published by Agora Publications, Inc., 2007, p. 83). In the 20th century, the ideas Kant presents in this essay were manifested initially in the League of Nations and then in the United Nations.
Kant does not base his idea of lasting peace among nations directly on ethics but on politics. However, his political ideas are consistent with his ethical philosophy even when he goes beyond ethics and focuses on other values. An important distinction emerges in the essay Toward Lasting Peace that relates directly to the topic of this series of podcasts — ethics in a democracy. Kant says: “The civil constitution of every state should be that of a republican system” (Toward Lasting Peace, p. 81). He means that the constitution should be that of a republic rather than a democracy. Kant rejects democracy, which, he says, is “necessarily despotism.” Why does he say that? Because, according to the way he uses the term democracy, there is no distinction between the executive power and the legislative power. This leads to another form of what Mill called the tyranny of the majority. This, of course, is not the form of government that was created in the U.S. Constitution, which clearly separates the legislative, executive, and judicial functions of government. The kind of democracy that Kant rejects is also the form that Plato’s character Socrates discards in Book 8 of The Republic. On the other hand, Kant’s definition of the republican form of government is precisely what is exemplified in the U. S. Constitution. He says: “Republicanism is the kind of principle by which the executive power of government separates itself from the legislative power” (p. 82). Here is his description of the key features of the republican form of government:
All legal force of law must be based on the following principles: First, the principle of freedom for all members — as human beings — in a society; second, the principle of dependence — as subjects — on a single shared system of legislation; and third, a constitution based on the principle of equality for all — as citizens. With regard to the law, it is, by definition, that on which all other forms of civil constitution are based and from which they originate (p. 81).
This is the form of government I call democracy in this series of podcasts, but the name is not the important part. What matters is the form of government and the ethical foundation on which it rests. It is evident from the passage I just quoted that Kant appeals to the universal moral law as he justifies the freedom for all members of society and the principle of equality for all citizens.
Peace is not a natural condition. “The state of nature is a state of war” (Toward Lasting Peace, p. 80). The same is true of other values manifested in organizations created by people. Peace has to be established in practice. The same is true of justice, wisdom, economic wellbeing, and health. In order to manifest such values in human life, the right kind of communities must be created. How should that be done? Philosophy cannot provide a full answer to that question. Philosophers can and should address the fundamental question of education, especially the kind that prepares people to become thoughtful and critical citizens. The dialectical form of inquiry exemplified in Plato’s dialogues is essential to that kind of education. Beyond that, implementation of the good life lies in the hands of individuals and of groups of people. Many disciplines and professions contribute to that quest. What I have tried to show in this series of podcasts is that morality is the essential foundation of genuine democracy.
