Part 1: Utilitarianism

In the previous chapter, you read that we may have self-serving tendencies, but

that in all likelihood we also have the capacity for fellow-feeling, some limited form

of altruism. That means that we can, and perhaps should, look after ourselves and

others at the same time, as reciprocal altruism says. This is, in effect, incorporated

into one of the most influential moral theories of all time, utilitarianism. However,

in utilitarianism it is not only a matter of what we are capable of emotionally, but

also a matter of what we ought to do rationally. When deciding on a moral course of

action, some of us find it is the potential consequences of our choice that determine

what we decide to do. Others of us see those consequences as being of minor importance when we view them in light of the question of right and wrong. A student

of mine, when asked to come up with a moral problem we could discuss in class,

proposed this question to ponder: Imagine that your grandmother is dying; she is

very religious, and she asks you to promise her that you will marry within the family

faith. Your beloved is of another faith. Do you tell her the truth, or do you make a

false promise? This profound (and, I suspect, real-life) question makes us all wonder:

If I think it is right to lie to Grandma, why is that? To make her last moments peaceful; what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her; why should I upset her by telling her

the truth? Is that a good enough reason? And if I think lying to Grandma is wrong

and refuse to do it, how do I justify making her last moments miserable? You will

see that those of us who think lying to her is the only right choice because then she

will die happy generally subscribe to the theory of consequentialism, in particular the

theory of utilitarianism, the most widespread and popular form of consequentialism.

If you think that lying is always wrong, even if it would make Grandma feel better,

then hang in there until Chapter 6, where we discuss Kant’s moral theory. In the

Narratives section of this chapter you’ll encounter a film that asks similar questions,

with parallels to the “Grandma” scenario: The Invention of Lying.

In the preceding chapter you encountered the philosopher Peter Singer, who

claimed that we as humans are capable of caring for others as well as ourselves.

Singer identifies himself as a utilitarian, as do numerous others today—philosophers

as well as laypeople. (You’ll find a text by Singer in the Primary Readings section.)

Utilitarians see as their moral guideline a rule that encourages them to make life

bearable for as many people as possible. Perhaps we can actively do something to

make people’s lives better, or perhaps the only thing we can do to make their lives

better is to stay out of their way. Perhaps we can’t strive to make people happy, but

Rosenstand, Nina (2012-07-01). The Moral of the Story: An Introduction to Ethics, 7th edition (Page 231). McGraw-Hill Higher Education -A. Kindle Edition.

we can at least do our best to limit their misery. That way of thinking just seems the

decent approach for many of us, and when we include ourselves among those who

should receive a general increase of happiness and decrease of misery, then the rule

seems attractive, simple, and reasonable. Small wonder this attitude has become the

cornerstone of one of the most vital and influential moral theories in human history.

Utilitarians are hard universalists in the sense that they believe there is a single

universal moral code, which is the only one possible, and everyone ought to realize it. It is the principle of utility, or the greatest-happiness principle: When choosing a

course of action, always pick the one that will maximize happiness and minimize unhappiness for the greatest number of people. Whatever action conforms to this rule

will be defined as a morally right action, and whatever action does not conform to it

will be called a morally wrong action. In this way utilitarianism proposes a clear and

simple moral criterion: Pleasure is good and pain is bad; therefore, whatever causes

happiness and/or decreases pain is morally right, and whatever causes pain or unhappiness is morally wrong. In other words, utilitarianism is interested in the consequences of our actions: If they are good, the action is right; if bad, the action is wrong.

This principle, utilitarians claim, will provide answers to all real-life dilemmas.

Are all theories that focus on the consequences of actions utilitarian? No. As we

saw in Chapter 4, the consequences we look for may be happy consequences for ourselves alone, and in that case we show ourselves to be egoists. We may focus on the

consequences of our actions because we believe that those consequences justify our

actions (in other words, that the end justifies the means), but that does not necessarily imply that the consequences we hope for are good in the utilitarian sense that they

maximize happiness for the maximum number of people. We might, for instance,

agree with the Italian statesman Niccolò Machiavelli (1469–1527) that if the end is

to maintain political power for oneself, one’s king, or one’s political party, that will

justify any means one might use for that purpose, such as force, surveillance, or even

deceit. Although this famous theory is indeed consequentialist, it does not qualify as

utilitarian because it doesn’t have the common good as its ultimate end.

Jeremy Bentham and the Hedonistic Calculus

It is often tempting to say that history moves in a certain direction. For example,

eighteenth-century Europe and America saw a general movement toward greater

recognition of human rights and social equality, of the value of the individual, of the

scope of human capacities, and of the need for and the right to education. During

that period, known as the Enlightenment, rulers and scholars shared a staunch belief

that human reason, rationality, held the key to the future—to the blossoming of the

sciences as well as to social change. That period is, appropriately, also referred to as

the Age of Reason, not so much because people were particularly rational at the time

as because reason was the social, scientific, and philosophical ideal .

Perhaps, then, it is tempting to say that civilization moved toward an appreciation

of human rationality, but it would be more appropriate to say that it was moved along

by the thoughts of certain thinkers. Such a mover was the English jurist and philosopher Jeremy Bentham. Box 5.1 provides you with a brief introduction to Bentham.

Rosenstand, Nina (2012-07-01). The Moral of the Story: An Introduction to Ethics, 7th edition (Page 232). McGraw-Hill Higher Education -A. Kindle Edition.

Act and Rule Utilitarianism

In the twentieth century it became clear to philosophers attracted to utilitarianism

that there were severe problems inherent in the idea that a morally right act is an

act that makes as many people as possible happy. One flaw is that, as we saw previously, it is conceivable many people will achieve much pleasure from the misery of

a few others, and even in situations where people don’t know that their happiness is

achieved by the pain of others, that is still an uncomfortable thought. It is especially

so if one believes in the Golden Rule (as John Stuart Mill did), which states that we

should do for others what we would like done for ourselves and refrain from doing

to others what we would not like done to ourselves. Mill himself was aware of the

problem and allowed that in the long run a society in which a majority abuses a

Rosenstand, Nina (2012-07-01). The Moral of the Story: An Introduction to Ethics, 7th edition (Page 260). McGraw-Hill Higher Education -A. Kindle Edition.

minority is not a good society. That still means we have to explain why the first cases

of happiness occurring from the misery of others are wrong, even before they have

established themselves as a pattern with increasingly bad consequences. In a sense,

Mill tried to address the problem, suggesting that utilitarianism be taken as a general

policy to be applied to general situations. He did not, however, develop the idea

further within his own philosophy.

Others have taken up the challenge and suggested it is just that particular formulation of utilitarianism which creates the problem; given another formulation, the

problem disappears. If we stay with the classical formulation, the principle of utility

goes like this: Always do whatever act will create the greatest happiness for the greatest

number of people. In this version we are stuck with the problems we saw earlier; for

example, the torture of innocents may bring about great pleasure for a large group

of people. The Russian author Dostoyevsky explored this thought in his novel The

Brothers Karamazov: Suppose your happiness, and everyone else’s, is bought by the

suffering of an innocent child? (We look more closely at this idea in the Narratives

section.) It is not hard to see this as a Christian metaphor, with Jesus’ suffering as

the condition of happiness for humans, but there is an important difference: Jesus

was a volunteer; an innocent child is not. In any event, a utilitarian, by definition,

would have to agree that if a great deal of suffering could be alleviated by putting an

innocent person through hell, then doing so would be justified. Putting nonhuman

animals or entire populations of humans through hell would also be justified. The

glorious end (increased happiness for a majority) will in any event justify the means,

even if the means violate these beings’ right to life or to fair treatment.

Suppose we reformulate utilitarianism. Suppose we say, Always do whatever type

of act will create the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people. What is the

result? If we set up a one-time situation, such as the torture of an innocent person

for the sake of others’ well-being, it may work within the first formulation. But if we

view it as a type of situation—one that is likely to recur again and again because we

have now set up a rule for such types of situations—it becomes impermissible: The

consequences of torturing many innocent people will not bring about great happiness for anyone in the long run. Is this, perhaps, what Mill was trying to say? This

new formulation is referred to as rule utilitarianism, and it is advocated by many modern utilitarians who wish to distance themselves from the uncomfortable implications of the classical theory, now referred to as act utilitarianism. If this new version is

used, they say, we can focus on the good consequences of a certain type of act rather

than on the singular act itself. It may work once for a student to cheat on a final, but

cheating as a rule is not only dangerous (the student herself is likely to be found out)

but also immoral to the rule utilitarian, because very bad consequences would occur

if everyone were to cheat. Professors would get wise in no time, and nobody would

graduate. Students and professors would be miserable. Society would miss out on a

great many well-educated college graduates. The Golden Rule is in this way fortified:

Don’t do something if you can’t imagine it as a rule for everybody, because a rule not

suited for everyone can have no good overall consequences.

Some critics have objected that not everything we do can be made into a rule

with good consequences. After all, many of the things we like to do are unique to

Rosenstand, Nina (2012-07-01). The Moral of the Story: An Introduction to Ethics, 7th edition (Page 261). McGraw-Hill Higher Education -A. Kindle Edition.

us, and why should we assume that just because one person likes to collect movie

memorabilia, the world would be happier if everyone collected movie memorabilia?

That is not the way it is supposed to work, say the rule utilitarians. You have to

specify that the rule is valid for people under similar circumstances, and you have to

specify what exceptions you might want to make. It may be morally good to make

sure you are home in time for dinner if you have a family to come home to but not

if you are living by yourself. And the moral goodness of being there in time for dinner depends on there not being something of greater importance that you should

see to. Such things might be a crisis at work, a medical emergency, extracurricular

activities, walking the dog, seeing your lover, watching a television show all the way

to the end, talking on the phone, or whatever you choose. They may not all qualify

as good exceptions, but you should specify in your rule which ones are acceptable.

Once you have created such a rule, the utilitarian ideal will work, say the rule utilitarians; it will make more people happy and fewer people unhappy in the long run.

If it doesn’t, then you just have to rework the rule until you get it right.

The problem with this approach is that it may be asking too much of people. Are

we likely to ponder the consequences of whatever it is we want to do every time we

are about to take action? Are we likely to envision everyone doing the same thing?

Probably not. Even if it is wrong to make numerous private phone calls from a company phone, we think it won’t make much difference if one person makes private

calls as long as nobody else does. As long as most people comply, we can still get

away with breaking the rule without creating bad consequences. Even so, we are in

the wrong, because a healthy moral theory will not set “myself” up as an exception

to the rule just because “I’m me and I deserve it.” This, as philosopher James Rachels

has pointed out, is as much a form of discrimination as racism and sexism are. We

might call it “me-ism,” but we already have a good word for it, egoism, and we already

know that that is unacceptable.

This addition to utilitarianism, that one ought to look for rules that apply to

everyone, is for many a major step in the right direction. Rule utilitarianism certainly was not, however, the first philosophy to ask, What if everybody did what

you intend to do? Although just about every parent must have said that to her or

his child at some time or other, the one person who is credited with putting it into

a philosophical framework is the German philosopher Immanuel Kant. There is one

important difference between the way Kant asks the question and the way it has later

been developed by rule utilitarians, though. Rule utilitarianism asks, What will be

the consequences of everybody doing what you intend to do? Kant asks, Could you

wish for it to be a universal law that everyone does what you intend to do? We look

more closely at this difference in the next chapter.

Rosenstand, Nina (2012-07-01). The Moral of the Story: An Introduction to Ethics, 7th edition (Page 262). McGraw-Hill Higher Education -A. Kindle Edition.