Compiled

154
ROBERT L. HOLMES
By a kingdom I understand the union of di rent rational beings in

a system by common laws. Now since it is
laws that ends are determined as regards their universal validit
ence, if we abstract from the
personal differences of rational bein , and likewise from all the content of their private ends, we shall
able to conceive all ends combined
in a systematic whole (includin oth rational beings as ends in themselves, and also the special e s which each may propose to himself),
that is to say, we can cone e a kingdom of ends, which on the preceding principles is possibl .
For all rational be gs come under the law that each of them must
treat itself and all
ers never merely as means, but in every case at the
same time as e s in themselves. Hence results a systematic union of
rational bei
by common objective laws, i.e., a kingdom which may be
called a k . gdom of ends, since what these laws have in view is just the
relatio f these beings to one another as ends and means....
KANTIAN/SM
Robert L. Holmes
Robert L. Holmes is professor of philosophy at the University of
Rochester, and author of On War and Morality (1989) and Basic Moral
Philosophy (1993), from which this excerpt is taken. Holmes provides
an overview of some of the basic ideas in Kant's Universal Law formulation of the categorical imperative and then proceeds to raise two
objections to Kant's theory. (Holmes classifies Kant's theory as a version
of "moral legalism" by which he means that the rightness and wrongness of actions is determined solely by rules or principles.)
mmanuel Kant . . . stresses consistency. Indeed, he says that

"[c]onsistency is the highest obligation of a philosopher and yet the
most rarely found." 1 And he insisted that moral judgments could not be
derived from external authority, not even God's. His theory is complex
and difficult, however, and there is little agreement about how precisely to interpret it. In what follows, I shall present a way of understanding it that I believe renders it as plausible as possible; an interpretation
that is Kantian in spirit rather than in exact detail.. ..
From Basic Moral Philosophy (Wadsworth, 1993).
KANTIAN ETHICAL THEORY
155
The Concept of Duty

In our ordinary thinking about morality, Kant thinks, we regard the
notion of moral duty as having an absoluteness about it. If I have a genuine moral duty to do something, it is binding on me whether I like it
or not. It is not merely a matter of preference, or how I feel about things.
I cannot justifiably avoid doing my duty simply by deciding it would be
inconvenient. Nor can anyone. What is a duty for me must be a moral
duty for anyone like me in relevant respects and similarly situated; it
is not variable from person to person, as the extreme relativist thinks.
If this is how we think of moral duty, then moral principles must
have an absoluteness about them as well, and must apply to everyone
alike. This does not mean they apply only to human beings. Moral principles are not merely universal. If all people desire happiness, then the
ethical egoist's principle would be universal, because it would apply to
all people. But morality is not limited in principle to human beings.
Why not?
Those aspects of our nature that bring us within the scope of morality are the facts that we are capable of following rules, drawing inferences, generalizing, and making free choices. We are capable of altering
our conduct because we recognize the truth of some propositions and
the importance of certain interconnections among them. These are the
capacities that make us rational beings.
Rationality, Kant thinks, is central to the whole idea of morality, and
human beings may not be the only rational beings. If there is a God,
God is rational, and if there are angels, they are rational, too. If, as
many astronomers believe today, there is extraterrestrial life, it may be
rational. But such life, ifit exists, will not be human (the typical science
fiction account of aliens from outer space represents them as intelligent
but very different from us in nature and appearance).
Now, any being that is capable of deliberating, following rules, and
making free choices is subject to the moral law. If you can freely and
reflectively choose to do one thing rather than another, then it always
makes sense to ask whether what you choose is morally right. It is this,
not your physical appearance or your particular desires-much less
your background or history-that establishes the relevance of morality
to your conduct. Even if you were so constituted as not to desire your
own happiness, it would still make sense to assess the rightness or
wrongness of what you do.
Objective Principles and Hypothetical Imperatives

Given that morality applies to all rational beings, we still need to ask
what morality requires of us as human beings. Kant answers, in effect,
that morality requires that we act as fully rational beings would act.
Moral conduct is rational conduct.
156
ROBERT L. HOLMES
If I want to get to San Francisco from New York in the fastest way
possible, I ought to fly
We do not know whether there are in fact other rational beings

besides ourselves, but if there are, we know that by virtue of being
rational they will be capable of making decisions and choices, and they
will have ends, purposes, and desires (although these may be for quite
different objects from those we desire).
Now, to be rational is perhaps above all to be consistent. For example, if you are rational you will do what is necessary to achieve your aim
or desire (other things being equal), since it is consistent to do what is
necessary to achieve that aim. It is a principle of rationality that to
desire an end is to desire the indispensable means to its attainment.
Knowing that, we can formulate various objective principles, which are
simply principles expressing how a fully rational being would act given
certain aims or desires.
From our own experience, we can readily formulate such principles
for rational beings who have the same sorts of desires we do. Some of
these concern everyday affairs:
1.
A fully rational being who wants a car to run will put gas in it.
2.
A fully rational being who wants to get from New York to San
Francisco in the fastest way possible will fly.
-is what Kant calls an imperative. It consists of two parts. The

antecedent (the "if" clause) refers to the desire in question, the consequent (the "then" clause) refers to what ought to be done to satisfy that
desire.
Notice, however, that the "ought" in the consequent is binding on me
only if I have the desire mentioned in the antecedent. If I am in no
hurry to get to San Francisco, there is no reason why I should fly; it is
not incumbent on me as a rational being to do so. I could just as well
drive or take a train. And if I want to enjoy the countryside, that is what
I should do. For this reason, Kant speaks of such imperatives as hypothetical. The validity of the "ought" depends on my having the appropriate desire.
Hypothetical imperatives, we can see, can be derived from the corresponding objective principles; they depend on verifiable truths about
means to ends. Where the desire is variable among people (and for the
same person at different times)-as in this case (and in the corresponding hypothetical imperatives derivable from objective principles 1
through 3)-Kant speaks of the imperative as a problematical imperative (or sometimes a technical imperative or imperative of skill). The
various "oughts" derivable from principles 4 through 6 likewise presuppose that one has the appropriate desire. The difference in these cases
is that we know all human beings desire happiness, so the antecedent
of the resultant hypothetical can always be assumed to be true. This
means that in principle we can just as easily say,
3. A fully rational being who wants to make an early class on time

will set the alarm.
Kant would call these "objective principles of skill." They cover a
range of practical situations. Others relate specifically to the desire for
happiness:
4.
A fully rational being who wants to be happy will not smoke cigarettes or use drugs.
5.
A fully rational being who wants to be happy will be considerate

of others.
6.
If you want to be happy, you ought not to take drugs.
or
Given that you want to be happy, you ought not to take drugs.
A fully rational being who wants to be happy will not drive at

excessive speeds.
Either way, the validity of the "ought" still presupposes the desire. If
there are beings who are indifferent to their happiness, these considerations would give them no reason to do or refrain from doing the acts in
question. Because in our case we can always affirm the desire, Kant calls
these hypothetical imperatives "assertorical" (or "pragmatic" or "prudential").
Ethical egoism, in his view, reduces morality to hypothetical imperatives of this sort. It tells us what we ought to do only on the assumption
that we want to be happy. And it is for this reason that it is inadequate
as a moral principle. Recall that Kant takes it to be part of our commonsense understanding of duty that duty be absolute; that is, unconditional. This requires that moral principles be absolute; they must
The assumptions in principles 4 through 6 are, of course, that to risk

lung cancer, drug addiction, alienating others, or auto accidents is likely
to be counterproductive to the pursuit of happiness. Principles of this
sort Kant would call "objective principles of prudence."
What is the relevance of such principles to our conduct? The answer
is that how a fully rational being would act is normative for how we, as
imperfectly rational beings, ought to act.
If a fully rational being who wanted to get from New York to San
Francisco in the fastest way would fly, then if I want to get there in the
fastest way, I ought to fly. That judgment-
157
158
ROBERT L. HOLMES
apply alike to all conceivable rational beings. But the assertorical

imperative applies only to beings who, like us, desire happiness. And its
implementation in particular cases depends always on an estimate of
consequences. Because we can never be altogether certain what the consequences of our acts will be, ethical egoism would mean that we could
never be certain what is right.
For example, if you live in New York and have a job interview in San
Francisco, you might judge that it is in your best interest-that is, most
conducive to your happiness-to fly rather than postpone the interview.
But if you fly and the plane crashes, you were wrong, and would have
done better to postpone the interview. Or if, thinking the plane might
crash, you drive and instead the car crashes, then you were wrong
about that. For morality to apply to all conceivable rational beings, and
for us to know for certain what is right and wrong, morality cannot be
grounded in either human nature or estimates of empirical consequences. It must be grounded in reason.
To see how this can be, let us distinguish a third type of objective principle. In addition to the objective principles of skill and prudence, there
are also objective principles of morality. But whereas the principles of
skill and prudence express how a fully rational being would act who had
certain desires, the objective principles of morality formulate how a fully
rational being would act irrespective of desires or preferences. Thus we
can say,
7.
Imperative 4 is for Kant a categorical imperative. It does not require

the specification of a desire in the antecedent. The validity of the
"ought" does not depend on any empirical condition, either subjective
(my desires or preferences) or external (the consequences of promise
keeping for my or anyone else's happiness).
So moral imperatives (or moral judgments, as we would say) are for
Kant categorical imperatives. They cannot be merely hypothetical. We
cannot avoid their normative force by disavowing any interest or desire
in doing as they prescribe.
But how do we know precisely which judgments, if any, are categorical in this sense? To find out, we need to ask how a perfectly rational
being would go about making choices among actions and here we need
to introduce a new concept.
Subjective Principles or Maxims

Whenever we choose to perform an action, we are, as it were, choosing
a type of action. We are committing ourselves to doing this type of act in
this type of circumstance. We are acting for a reason, and if we
encounter another situation that is similar, the same reason applies to
it. Otherwise our conduct overall would be fragmented and disconnected; there would be no continuity to what we do and no consistency in
our lives. The living out of rational life plans would be impossible.
Another way of putting this is to say that we commit ourselves to a
kind of rule whenever we perform a voluntary action, one that might be
stated something like this: "In circumstances of this sort, I will perform
this sort of act." This does not mean that we invariably adhere to such
rules. Sometimes we are inconsistent, and at other times we change our
minds and deliberately redirect our lives through new commitments.
Nor does it mean we always (or even most of the time) have such a rule
expressly in mind when we act. It is rather that, if we reflect on what
we are doing, or considering doing, we can in principle always specify
some such rule for every act. It states what we propose to do, and perhaps why.
Kant calls rules of this sort "subjective principles," or more often,
"maxims." They are subjective in that they claim no validity for ourselves
or others and have no applicability beyond our own conduct. But every
voluntary action has one. It is part of the very idea of rationality that
actions be constrained by such rules of consistency. This would be true
even of perfectly rational beings. They would act on maxims as well ....
Now insofar as they are rational, there is no difference among perfectly rational beings. Rationality is the same in all of them. This meansthat, as rational beings, they cannot consistently choose to perform
actions whose maxims could not be accepted by other rational beings.
Otherwise, they would be committing themselves to rules of action that
would conflict with the very rationality they themselves embody.
A fully rational being would tell the truth.
8. A fully rational being would keep promises.

9.
A fully rational being would not cheat.
10. A fully rational being would act benevolently toward others.

No mention need be made here of such a being's having any particular
desires, not even the desire for happiness. A fully rational being will do
certain things and refrain from others simply by virtue of being rational.
If, now, these are things that a fully rational being would do categorically (that is, unconditionally-irrespective of desires or preferences),
then they prescribe what we, as imperfectly rational beings, categorically ought to do, irrespective of our desires or preferences. Each of us,
in other words, can reason as follows:
1.
A fully rational being would keep promises.
2.
An imperfectly rational being ought to keep promises.
3.
I am an imperfectly rational being.
4. Therefore, I ought to keep promises.
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159
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160 ROBERT L. HOLMES
We may put this by saying that a perfectly rational being would act
only according to those maxims that could at the same time be universal laws-that could, in other words, be acted on by all conceivable
rational beings in relevantly similar circumstances.
Remember that all the preceding is by way of trying to explain how

moral conduct is essentially rational. If we do what is morally right, we
are acting as a fully rational being would act; if we knowingly do wrong,
we are acting irrationally.
Now, how can an act be irrational? Although we often speak of acts
as irrational, strictly speaking an action cannot be irrational by itself.
Considered in one light, an act is just another event along with all the
others that take place in the world. As such, it is neither rational nor
irrational. Only if we view an act in a broader context does it make
sense to speak of the act as either rational or irrational. This broader
context must include the act's interconnections with other actions, and
specifically its connection with the concept of a rational being. In other
words, it makes sense to speak of acts as rational only in a sense that
presupposes an understanding of what it is for beings to be rational.
Thus (to take an example of a verbal act), if we simply reflect on the
words "I promise to give you your money back next week," we cannot
say whether the act of uttering those words is rational or not. We need
to know something about the context: who has spoken the words, to
whom they were spoken, what was communicated thereby, and so on (it
makes a difference, for example, whether they are uttered in a play, or
spoken solemnly from one friend to another). We need, that is, a context
that involves rational beings, purposes, and desires.
Suppose the context is the following: You need money quickly, and
the only way you can get it is to borrow it. You know someone who is
trusting, so you ask her for a loan. Unknown to her, however, you plan
to leave town within the next few days and don't intend to repay it. In
this context, your uttering the words in question constitutes the making of a promise-a deceitful one, however-and as such represents a
transaction between two rational persons (nonrational creatures do not
have a concept of promising). What takes place can fully be understood
only in terms of the idea of rationality. In this situation, you are using
the rational practice of promising, and the other person's rationality as
well, to further your own ends. The very effectiveness of the transaction
for your purposes presupposes this rationality.
To show why it is wrong to make such a deceitful promise, we must
show it is irrational. But the act of speaking those words just by itself,
I have said, is neither rational nor irrational, so something must link
that act with other possible acts and with the relevant features of
rationality embodied in those involved in the transaction.
Here is where the notion of a maxim comes in. First we must state
what the maxim of such an act would be, something like this: "If I find
myself in need of money, I will borrow it and promise to repay it, knowing that I will never do so." This is a kind of rule to which you would be
committing yourself by performing the act in question in the context we
have imagined. You would, in other words, be committing yourself to acts
of a certain kind in situations of a certain kind. The maxim shows that
The Categorical Imperative

Now, if that is how a perfectly rational being would act, then it is normative of how we, as imperfectly rational beings, ought to act. This
yields what for Kant is the categorical imperative, the basic principle of
morality:
Categorical Imperative 1 (CI 1): Act only according to that maxim by
which you can at the same time will
that it should become a universal law.
I say that this is the categorical imperative. Kant sometimes uses the
notion of categorical imperative to stand for particular categorical
.moral judgments, as in "You ought to tell the truth" or "You ought to
keep promises." But he also uses it to stand for the basic moral principle from which these particular judgments are derived (how, we will
consider in a moment) ....
Let us pause for a moment to take account of the significance of the
CI 1. In the CI1' we have arrived at Kant's fundamental principle of
morality. It is his holding to such a principle that makes him a moral
Iegalist. Our moral judgments (particular categorical imperatives) must
be derivable from the CI 1 .
Notice furthermore that the CI 1 makes no reference to goodness. It
does not tell us to promote the good of anyone-not of ourselves, or of
people generally, or of the world as a whole. Ifwe are motivated to follow this principle, we will in fact be cultivating the only thing that is
good in itself, namely, a good will, because we will be trying to do what
is right because it is right. 2 But the CI 1 does not tell us to estimate the
good that will result in order to decide what our duty is. It is not concerned with consequences or with goodness. So in addition to being
legalist, Kant's position is nonconsequentialist and deontological.
Applying the Categorical Imperative
What exactly does the CI 1 mean, and how does one apply it to particular situations to determine what is morally right? Or, in Kantian terminology, how does one apply the categorical imperative to derive particular categorical imperatives?
This is the most vexing part of Kant's ethical theory, and to critics
and admirers alike the least satisfactory. Let us try to understand the
thinking that underlies it.
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162
ROBERT L. HOLMES
beyond the particularity of the act there is a generality provided by the

rule. This makes it possible to begin to consider the act rationally.
Now because a fully rational being would act only on maxims that
could be made universal laws for all rational beings, the CI directs us, as
imperfectly rational beings, to do likewise. That is what we ought to do.
What does that mean in this case? We have specified the maxim of
the act. We must now consider what it would be like if it were a universal law~that is, if it were adopted by all rational beings, so that
everyone made it a rule, when in need of money, to borrow it and promise to repay it, intending not to do so. What would that be like?
Clearly, if everyone acted on that maxim no one would lend money.
Everyone would know in advance that it would never be repaid. If we
take the notion of "promising" to extend to all kinds of financial transactions that might not involve the actual uttering of just those words,
the institutions of banking, finance and investing would collapse,
because all such institutions presuppose trust that certain agreements
and commitments will be honored.
That might be disastrous or even catastrophic, you might say. But
why would it be irrational?
Here we need to specify one additional factor, the purpose for which
you made the deceitful promise in the first place. That purpose, obviously, was to get money. But now we can see that there is a kind of contradiction here. It is between your purpose and the universal acceptance of the maxim by which you would be acting in trying to achieve
that purpose. If the maxim were universally accepted, you could not
achieve your purpose, for no one would lend money. In performing the
act, you wduld be using a means (a deceitful promise) to an end (getting
money), which would be undercut by the universal acceptance of the
very maxim to which the act would commit you. You would at one and
the same time be doing one thing (committing yourself to the universal
acceptance of the maxim) that if universally done would conflict with
another thing you are also doing (trying to borrow money).
Here is the inconsistency (Kant speaks of it as a "contradiction"). As
consistency is a requirement of rationality, you would in this case be
acting irrationally. Because the act is irrational, it is contrary to duty
and wrong, 3
The example of the deceitful promise illustrates what Kant calls a
"perfect duty." But he recognizes also what he calls "imperfect duties,"
such as a duty to develop one's talents. Let us consider briefly how these
differ.
Suppose a person decides to quit school at an early age, concluding
that it is not worth his while learning to read and write well, or to do
math, or to use a computer. His maxim, ifhe gives it any thought, might
be something like "I'll neglect developing my abilities, skills, and talents
if I feel like it." Could one universalize this maxim? In one sense yes.
One can imagine a world in which everyone acted on that maxim; it
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163
would simply be a world in which people were uneducated and lazy.

Unlike the case of the maxim involved in the deceitful promise, there is
no "contradiction" involved in trying to conceive of such a world. It is
relatively easy to do, in fact. But what Kant says we cannot consistently do is will that such a world actually come about. Why not? Because
we all have various aims and objectives in life (ultimately we all want
to be happy, and our other aims and objectives are connected with this
desire), such as for a home, a car, money for vacations and travel, leisure
time to pursue our interests, and so on. Many, more specifically, want to
practice medicine or law, or to pursue careers in music or acting or business. However, if we do not develop certain abilities and talents, the
attainment of these other objectives will be impossible. We will not be
able to compete in the job market, or if we do get a job we will be unlikely to gain advancement; as a consequence we will be unlikely ever to
have the wherewithal to do the things we want. Or if our aims require a
college degree or beyond, we will never even get into college. Moreover,
if everyone acted on the same maxim, there would not even be the
opportunities there in the first place. Quite apart from one's own inclinations and initiative, the opportunities to achieve many objectives are
possible only because most other people have developed their abilities
and talents (the company with which you could get a job if you qualified
might not exist if the management and other workers had not worked
hard to make it a going concern). There could be such a world. But given
the aims virtually every one of us has, it is not one we can consistently
will to come about ....
Kant Not a Consequentialist
We have seen the essentials of what Kant thinks lies behind our commonsense notion of duty. It is a complex conceptual apparatus that represents the most formidable attempt in the history of ethics to show
how morality is thoroughly rational. Although Kant's theory is sometimes contrasted with theories of virtue, note that it has no necessary
incompatibility with such theories; in fact, although we have not considered it, Kant himself has a theory of virtue, stressing the importance
of developing character, and virtues such as conscientiousness and
beneficence. 4 It is just that overall his theory is best considered an
ethics of conduct because of the importance it assigns to conduct as well
as to rules and principles.
It has also seemed to some that despite its apparent deontological orientation, Kant's theory is in fact ultimately consequentialist, because it
requires that we consider the consequences of universalizing our maxims. This, however, is mistaken. Kant does not say that rightness is
determined either by the consequences of acts, or by the consequences of
our universalizing them. What he says is that we must reflect on what
the world would be like if our maxims were universally accepted, and
164
ROBERT L. HOLMES
must consider whether such a world would be rationally conceivable, and

such that we could consistently will that it come about. But considering
what the consequences would be if our maxims were universally accepted does not itself have consequences in the actual world. This considering is done by reason alone. What does have consequences in the actual
world, of course, are actions we perform as a result of determining what
our duty is. But these are not themselves the consequences of our universalizing our rn axims (though they are consequences of our choosing to
perform the actions after assessing their rightness by rational means).
What the actual consequences would be if we performed certain actions
does not enter into the process by which we determine rightness at all.
For that reason, Kant is not a consequentialist. Nor, in that case, does
consideration of what the value of the consequences of our actions would
be enter into that determination either, so he is not an axiologist either.
But if it is not a sustainable objection against Kant that he was a
consequentialist despite himself, there are other problems for his theory, only two of which we have space to mention here.
The first problem is that his whole theory founders unless we can
make sense of saying that every voluntary action has a correctly specifiable maxim. As we have seen, the notion of a maxim is pivotal in the
whole rational process by which we determine rightness.
The categorical imperative purports to govern all conduct. And it is
presumed not to be difficult to determine what it prescribes. But it
requires that we specify correctly the maxim of proposed actions. The
problem is that prospective actions do not come with one and only one
maxim unmistakably attached to them. Whether I describe the maxim
of my action as "moving my arm in situations of this sort" or as "paying
a bribe in situations of this sort" may make a difference to whether I can
universalize it. Every act seems to admit of having many different maxims associated with it, and which of these we take to be the correct one
can make a difference to the ultimate determination of the rightness of
the act.
Even before that, whatever we do admits of being characterized as
any one of an indefinite number of actions. In some circumstances, the
action that a person performs might be characterized either as that of
moving his arm, swinging a racket, hitting a tennis ball, or returning a
serve. And all these might be correct characterizations. In more serious
circumstances, what someone does might be characterized as moving
his finger, pushing a button, following orders, or launching a nuclear
missile-again, each with equal correctness. So what is the "act" that is
our proper concern when it comes to determining rightness, and what
is its maxim? Is it "!fl want this system to operate, I will press this button"? Or"When given orders in situations of this sort, I will comply"? Or
"When ordered to initiate a nuclear attack, I will do so"? Whether you
could consistently will that all rational beings act on your maxim might
well depend on precisely which of these you take to be the maxim. The
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165
first might lead you only to consider an efficient world in which people
make things run in the intended way by starting them properly. The
third might lead you to consider a world in which everyone is willing to
initiate the destruction of civilization if ordered to do so.
But even if this problem were surmounted, there is a second that is
more fundamental. It lies in Kant's assumption that how fully rational
beings would act is normative for how we, as imperfectly rational
beings, ought to act .... What is presupposed by Kant's reasoning is a
principle on the order of"One ought to act as a perfectly rational being
would act." This would then enable one to conclude that we ought to act
in this way.
In other words, to get from
1.
A fully rational being would do X.
2.
An imperfectly rational being ought to do X.
to
we need a premise such as

l'. One ought to act as a fully rational being would act.
But once we formulate an assumed premise of this sort, we see it has

problems. Many people would question whether focusing on fully
rational conduct is at all the way to approach morality. Some, like Hume
(who wrote bef<Jre Kant), would say that reason by itself is utterly incapable of guiding conduct, since it can only deal with relations among
things. It can show us the way to selecting correct means to our ends,
but it cannot select our ends for us. For that we need our "passional"
nature (feelings, emotions, desires). It is how we feel about ends that
leads us to adopt or reject them. And some feminists would maintain
that this whole Kantian conception of reason, as objective and free of
historical and social contexts, is essentially a male conception, one that
fails to do justice to women's experience, which is rooted in feeling, connectedness, and caring.
These problems are not necessarily fatal to Kant's theory, but they
need to be reckoned with. In any event, Kant's is a powerful theory and
represents perhaps the paradigm of moral legalism.
Notes
1. Immanuel Kant, Critique of Practical Reason and Other Writings in Moral
Philosophy, ed. and tr. Lewis White Beck (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1949), p. 135.

2. Meaning now by "right" what is mandatory or required, not merely what
is permissible.
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166
ONORA O'NEILL
3. Note that this shows only that it is wrong to act on this particular maxim,
167
Kant calls his Supreme Principle the Categorical Imperative; it various versions also have sonorous names. One is called the For ula of
Universal Law; another is the Formula of the Kingdom of Ends. he one
on which I shall concentrate is known as the Formula oft End in
Itself. To understand why Kant thinks that these picturesq ly named
principles are equivalent to one another takes quite a lot f close and
detailed analysis of Kant's philosophy. I shall avoid thi and concentrate on showing the implications of this version of t e Categorical
Imperative.
associated with a false promise. This does not show that breaking a promise for another reason, such as to save someone's life, is necessarily wrong.
To determine that, you would need to consider the nature of the maxim in
that case, and whether it could be successfully universalized. Also note
that, although Kant thinks that a pure moral philosophy is free of anything empirical, to derive specific duties from the categorical imperative
requires some empirical knowledge-in this case, for example, about what
must be the case for human beings to make promises successfully.
4. This has tempted some to view his theory as primarily an ethics of virtue.
See, for example, Onora O'Neill, Constructions of Reason: Explorations of
Kant's Practical Philosophy (Cambridge, England: Cambridge University
Press, 1989), p. 161.
Kant states the Formula of the End in Itself as foJA.ows:

Act in such a way that you always treat humanity, wfiether in your own person
or in the person of any other, never simply as a me/ns but always at the same
time as an end.
KANT ON TREATING PEOPLE AS

ENDS IN THEMSELVES
Onora O'Neill
To understand this we need to know wh it is to treat a person as a

means or as an end. According to Kant, ch of our acts reflects one or
more maxims. The maxim of the act is e principle on which one sees
oneself as acting. A maxim expresses person's policy, or if he or she
has no settled policy, the principle u derlying the particular intention
or decision on which he or she act Thus, a person who decides "This
year I'll give 10 percent of my inc e to famine relief" has as a maxim
the principle of tithing his or he income for famine relief In practice,
the difference between intenti s and maxims is of little importance,
for given any intention, we ca formulate the corresponding maxim by
deleting references to partic ar times, places, and persons. In what follows I shall take the terms ' axim" and "intention" as equivalent.
Whenever we act inten onally, we have at least one maxim and can,
if we reflect, state what i is. (There is of course room for self-deception
here- "I'm only keepi
the wolf from the door" we may claim as we
wolf down enough to eep ourselves overweight, or, more to the point,
enough to feed some e else who hasn't enough food.)
When we want t work out whether an act we propose to do is right
or wrong, accordi
to Kant, we should look at our maxims and not at
how much miser~ or happiness the act is likely to produce, and whether
it does better at ncreasing happiness than other available acts. We just
have to check t at the act we have in mind will not use anyone as a mere
means, and, i possible, that it will treat other persons as ends in themselves.
Onora O'Neill is professor of philosophy and prin pal of Newnham

College, Cambridge University. She is author of e Faces of Hunger
(1985), Constructions of Reason (1989), and awards Justice and
Virtue (1996). O'Neill provides an explicatio of the ideas and implications of Kant's formula of the End-in-Itse formulation of the categorical imperative.
Kant's moral theory has acquir

the reputation of being forbiddingly difficult to understand
d, once understood, excessively
demanding in its requirements. Clon't believe that this reputation has
been wholly earned, and I am ing to try to undermine it .. ..
The main method by whic
propose to avoid some of the difficulties
of Kant's moral theory is b explaining only one part of the theory. This
does not seem to me to be n irresponsible approach in this case. One of
the things that makes ant's moral theory hard to understand is that
he gives a number of fferent versions of the principle that he calls the
Supreme Principle Morality, and these different versions don't look at
all like one anot r. They also don't look at all like the utilitarians'
Greatest Happi ss Principle. But the Kantian principle is supposed to
play a similar ole in arguments about what to do.
Using Persons as Mere Means

To use. Jmeone as a mere ~ean_s is to involve them in a scheme of action
to whlh' they could not in principle consent. Kant does not say that
From Matters fl1' Life and Death, edited by Tom Regan (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1986 ).
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From Richard Taylor, Good and Evil

(New York: Prometheus Books, 1984)
The Virtue of Compassion
p. 207
MALICE: THE FIRST CLASS OF ACTIONS

Let us first, then, bring to our minds actions of the following sort, beginning with fairly
insignificant ones so that we can see moral good and evil, whether small or great.
Story 1. A boy, strolling over the countryside on his way from Sunday school, came across
a large beetle lumbering over the ground. Fascinated by its size and beauty, he took a pin from
his pocket, stabbed the insect through the back, ran it up to the head of the pin and impaled it
on a nearby tree. Several days later, having forgotten this, while he was going about his daily
play, the boy found himself again in the same place and curiosity led him again to the tree.
There was the beetle, its legs still moving, although very slowly, against the empty air.
Story 2. A group of boys, wandering aimlessly about in search of amusement, found a dirty
and emaciated old cat asleep in a barn. One of the boys was sent off with a tin can for some
kerosene while the others tied the cat up in a bag and sat around waiting. The kerosene finally
supplied, it was sprinkled liberally over the squirming animal, precautions being taken not to
get any into its face and eyes, and then a match was applied to the tail. The effect was
spectacular: a howling torch, streaking over the field, culminating in a series of wild gyrations
and leaps, and finally into a twitching mass whose insides burst forth in wet sputters, the eyes
bulging to the size and brilliance of agates.
Story 3. A trio of soldiers, ragged and bearded and evidently a long time away from home
and hearth, was wending its way back to its encampment in recently conquered territory. The
surroundings, as far as vision could see, bore the marks of recent incredible devastation by
war. Coming upon the remains of a shack, they were surprised to see signs of life. They threw
open what served as a door to find a bearded old man huddled in the corner, trembling from
fear and cold. A Star of David inscribed on one of the walls was more than sufficient
incitement for what followed. The old man was goaded outside with rifle butts, was made to
scrape a crude hole in the ground, and was then bludgeoned into it with rocks and sticks. A bit of
dirt was finally shoved over his still quaking body. When the soldiers had finished this work and
resumed their trek a faint wail betrayed that there was an infant still in the shack. They found her
at once, and soon managed to replace her crying with giggling by dangling bright objects in her
face and tickling her toes. When her giggling and the laughter of the soldiers flowed freely, her
skull was blown open with a single bullet, and what was left of her small body was added to the
grave already dug.
Now, with the passing reminder that things of this sort happen, and with fair regularity, we
must ask: What is it in stories like this that sickens and evokes revulsion?
Shall we say, with Protagoras that man, after all, is. the measure of all things, that the
insensitivity or depravity that some might think they detect in these illustrations really exists only
in the mind of the observer, and that modes of behavior simply differ from one group to another?
Surely that is not insight, but blindness, and it adds no enlightenment to remark that some courses
of conduct are better, in terms of their consequences. It is not the consequences of actions like this
that appall, but what is in the hearts of the agents.

Shall we then, with Socrates, say of the soldiers, for example, that they have acted from
ignorance, choosing the lesser in preference to the greater good? That is altogether too tepid, and
only manages to assimilate such actions to those of the fool who fails to look before he leaps. It is
not the mere folly of these men that produces horror, or their inability to distinguish better and
worse. It is something of a different character altogether.
Shall we say then, with Plato, that the agents whose deeds we consider have evidently failed to
preserve a harmony between the rational and the appetitive parts of their souls? This seems a bit
better, but it still falls far short of explaining our revulsion, which cannot have very much to do
with what we take to be the inner arrangements of someone's mind or soul.
Perhaps we should say, then, that the behavior of these agents is ill-calculated to advance the
maximum of pleasure for the maximum number. It is, indeed, but what has that to do with
moral revulsion?
Perhaps, then, they have all acted from their inclinations rather than from duty, and what
they should have done was remind themselves of this maxim, clear to any rational being. So act,
that you can will the maxim of your action to be a universal law, binding on all rational beings.
Surely that is pedantic. What if they had so acted? Perhaps then they would have done the same
things anyway, but with a bit more ceremony and rationalization. It is difficult to see, in any
case, what is irrational about pinning an insect, or dispatching a stray cat or a starving old man
and infant. Surely the words one wants here are not irrational or undutiful, but something like
heartless or cruel.
Then maybe we should say that such agents evidently overlook the theological consequences
of what they do. Men may be lax in their laws and punishments, but the eye of God never
sleeps. Men should remember that great happiness awaits those who conduct themselves
properly, and great pain awaits those who forget. But this is only to say that they may be missing
out on a good thing and taking a needless risk of going to Hell. Maybe so, but are they
condemned in our eyes for that?
The recital of answers could go on, Aristotle perhaps noting that all these actions betray a
disregard for that golden mean between excess and deficiency that honorable men prize; James
observing that we should include in our accounting all of the interests and claims that are made
(including, no doubt, the claims" insisted on by the cat); and so on and on.
But clearly, all we need to say about these things is that they are wantonly cruel. That is the
whole sum and substance of them all, and it is the perception of sheer cruelty or malice, of the
intended infliction of injury and the delight derived from it, that fills us with that peculiar
revulsion that is moral. Our perception does not stop at the irrationality of such agents, nor at
their folly, imprudence, lack of wit, or intelligence. It hardly notices these things. We are not at
all tempted to weigh interests against interests, to make summations of pleasures and pains,
reserving our verdict until we are sure that none of these features has been overlooked. Even
generally considered, it is not the consequences that gives them their moral significance. It is no
disaster to the world that an insect should die, or a cat, or even an old man and baby who were
destined to soon die of starvation anyway. That such things should result is doubtless an evil, but
this is not what gives these actions the stamp f moral evil or distinguishes their authors as vicious.
The moral perception goes straight to the heart, to the incentive that produced and was indeed
aimed at producing those evils, and the one thing it sees, overriding everything else, is malice.

COMPASSION: THE SECOND CLASS OF ACTIONS

We can now compare the foregoing with deeds of a very different kind.
Story 4. A boy, poking around in a loft where he had no business to be and looking for something
to steal, came upon a cupola that had been screened off with chicken wire to prevent pigeons
from roosting and nesting inside. Twenty or so of the birds were inside, however, having
somehow gotten trapped there. They presented a lamentable appearance, some crawling about on
the filth-encrusted floor, their wings half outstretched, and others lying about dead. They had
evidently been there a long time. The boy resisted the temptation to tear off the screening and
release them, for it had been put there by the owner; it would only be replaced eventually, and he
might get himself into serious trouble by tampering. So he left things as they were. But that night
he awakened with an image in his mind of the dumb birds up there in the dark loft, and
particularly those too weakened to fly any more. He told his father about it the next day, but was
firmly reproved for his trespassing and was given an unqualified order not to do it again, along
with remarks about pigeons as a nuisance. He felt profoundly guilty, and the whole thing was put
out of his mind until the next night, when his sleep was disturbed even more by the same images of
suffering and death. Finally, on the third night, he slipped from the house before dawn armed with a
flashlight and, although frightened to the bones of the darkness, he picked his way up to the high
cupola. There, one by one he liberated each bird through a hole he tore in the screen, with many
painful pecks to his hands and much flapping and commotion bringing constantly closer the
possibility of attracting the attention of the owner or the police. He repaired the hole, and gathered
the birds that were too weak to fly into a bag and carried them tenderly home. The next morning
they betrayed the boy's disobedience to his father, and for this he was beaten, but with only a few
deaths he nursed the sick pigeons back to strength and let them go.
Story 5. A man deeply conditioned by the traditions of his local culture was deputized as a sheriff,
along with dozens more from the same community, in order to cope with the growing civil rights
menace there. Like most of the others, this man thoroughly respected the law and the orderly
traditions he swore to uphold. He had always respected, too, his fellow men, black or white, and his
firm adherence to the conventions of separation could not fairly be ascribed to any hatred for
anyone. Blacks had always worked for him and received decent wages, although he had never seen
any reason to treat them as equals and had been taught from childhood not to. He was, therefore,
appalled at the thought that they should vote and perhaps even hold elective office. The menace to
his settled world came not, it seemed to him, from the local black community, which was peaceful
enough, but from outsiders, black and white, who had for months been arousing people at mass
meetings, hiring lawyers from outside, goading blacks into disregarding all the legally erected
symbols of segregation and, it seemed to him, threatening to turn a peaceful community into a
jungle. Matters became intensely. critical with the scheduling of a massive parade onto the town hall,
in defiance of the law, at which time, it was threatened, all the blacks willing to do so would register
as voters. This man, together with a massive force of sheriffs and deputies, went forth heavily armed
to repel that assault, and a scene of violence was quickly enacted, blacks falling bleeding by the road,
but getting in a few wounds of their own with rocks and pop bottles and whatever came to their
hands. Restraint on both sides disappeared entirely when one sheriff and two Negroes got killed.
Our deputy then managed to seize at gunpoint one of the blacks who was obviously a leader, and an
outsider. Throwing him into his own car, which was to serve as a paddy wagon, he drove for about
half a mile and stopped. Red and sweating with fury and screaming "nigger," his gun in his victim's
face, he began beating him about the head and face with his weapon. Then suddenly the deputy fell
to the seat, tears streaming from his eyes. Sobbing like a child, and muttering epithets mingled with

abject apology, he helped the beaten and astonished Negro from the car, wiped the blood and sweat
from his brow, and gave him a drink of cold water and a clean handkerchief. Then he drove home
and got drunk.1
Story 6. Two soldiers found themselves marooned on a tiny island in the Pacific.
One was an American marine, the other a Japanese, and for a day or so neither suspected the
presence of the other. The Americans had, they thought, killed or captured every one of the enemy,
who were not numerous to begin with. The marine had been left behind when he was knocked out
and lost, but not otherwise seriously wounded, during the fighting. It was the American marine who
first discovered the other, and discovered too, to his dismay, that his foe was armed with a rifle,
luger, and knife, while he had only a large knife. From then on he lived only by stealth, hiding during
the day, meagerly sustaining himself by silently picking about in the darkness and covering all his
traces, for he knew he would be hunted as soon as his presence was known, and that he would die as
soon as he was seen. He soon began to feel stalked, a naked and helpless animal for whom no
concealment was safe, and he could sleep only in brief naps, when exhaustion forced sleep upon
him, not knowing but that his enemy might at that moment be at his back. He knew that the bullet
that was going to kill him would be in his skull before he would hear it, and he lived almost
moment to moment expecting it. He began to contrive schemes for ambushing his hunter, who he
knew must have learned of him by now, but the odds were so against him in all of these that he
abandoned them as futile and lived furtively, certain that it could not go on indefinitely. Thirst,
hunger, and exhaustion had after many days magnified his terror and helplessness. He clutched his
knife day and night, and his enemy became to his imagination a vast, omnipotent, and ineluctable
spectre. But deliverance came suddenly one day when, in the early light of dawn, he stumbled
upon the Japanese, lying in profound sleep, both guns at his side, and a huge knife laid out on his
belly. His role as the hunted was ended, and with a single lunge he would abolish the source of his
terror. His own knife raised high, he was ready to fall on his foe, when he began to shake and
could find no strength in his limbs. Thus he remained for some seconds, until the knife fell from
his hand. The other leaped awake, and each stood staring into the terrified face of the other. The
Japanese reached slowly for his weapons, pushed them violently out of reach of both men, and
then, hesitating, let his knife fall, harmless, beside the other.
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THESE STORIES
There are no heroes in these stories. No one has earned any medal of honor, any citation from
any society for the protection of animals, or any recognition from any council on civil liberties.
Goodness of heart, tenderness toward things that can suffer, and the loving kindness that
contradicts all reason and sense of duty and sometimes denies even the urge to life itself that
governs us all are seldom heroic. But who can fail to see, in these mixtures of good and evil, the
one thing that really does shine like a jewel, as if by its own light?
Are we apt to learn anything by reviewing these things in the light of the analyses moralists have
provided? Who acted from a sense of duty, or recited to himself the imperative of treating rational
nature as an end in itself, or of acting on no maxim that he could not will to be a law for rational
beings, and so on? Nothing of this sort was even remotely involved in anyone's thinking. Nor can
we talk about consequences very convincingly, or the maximization of pleasure, or of competing .
claims and interests, or of seeing the good and directing the will to its attainment, or of honoring a
This story is suggested by, but is not intended as an account of, an episode described by Dick
Gregory in Nigger: An Autobiography. (New York: Pocket Books, 1968), pp. 171-172.
1

mean between extremes in short, there is not much that is strictly rational in any of these
actions. We are not at all struck by the philosophical acumen that somehow led these people to
see what was "the right thing to do." Insofar as they thought at all about what they were doing, or
consulted their duty, or weighed possible consequences, they were inclined to do precisely what
they did not do. We have in all these cases a real war between the head and the heart, the reason
and the will, and the one thing that redeems them all is the quality of the heart, which somehow
withstands every solicitation of the intellect. It is the compassionate heart that can still somehow
make itself felt that makes men's deeds yes noble and beautiful, and nothing else at all. This,
surely, is what makes men akin to the angels and the powers of light, and snuffs out in them the
real and ever present forces of darkness and evil.
If someone were to say, "This is a good and virtuous man although, of course, he has a
rather pronounced tendency to cruelty and is quite unfeeling of others," we would at once
recognize an absurdity. It would be quite impossible to pick out any morally good man under a
description like that. Similarly, if one were to say, "This is a truly vicious man, wholly bereft of
human goodness although he has a good heart, and is kind to all living things," the absurdity
leaps up again. Virtue and vice are not evenly distributed among men; no doubt all men have
some of both, and one or the other tends to prevail in everyone. Most men, however, seem to
know just what human goodness is when they see it, whether they have read treatises on
morality or not, or whether or not they have tried to fathom its metaphysical foundations.
For the fact is, it seems to have no such foundations, and no treatises on morals or disquisitions on
the nature of true justice make it stand forth with more clarity than it already has. It. would be as odd
to suppose that one must become a philosopher before he can hope to recognize genuine moral
good and evil, as it would to suppose that no man can be overwhelmed by a sunset until he
understands the physics of refraction.
THE SCOPE OF COMPASSION
It will, of course, appear that genuine morality is not, by this account, confined to our relations
with men, but extends to absolutely everything that can feel. Why should it not? What but a narrow
and exclusive regard for themselves and a slavish worship for rational nature would ever have led
moralists to think otherwise? That men are the only beings who are capable of reason is perhaps
true, but they are surely not the only things that suffer. It seems perfectly evident that morality is tied
to the liability to suffer rather than to the strictly human capacity for science and metaphysics and
similar expressions of reason.
It makes no essential difference to morality, but only a difference of degree, that in my stories it
was an insect that was impaled, a cat that was burned, and common pigeons that were liberated. The
incentives were quite plainly identical in my first three stories, and identical again in the latter three,
and it is quite obviously this malice in the former and compassion in the latter that stirs the moral
sentiment. Something very precious is lost when men die at the hands of others, but that is not the
reason for its moral evil. It is perhaps far less bad that a cat should die, and almost insignificant that
an insect should perish; yet, the quality of moral evil remains essentially the same in all these cases.
Similarly, we can surely say of our marine in the last story, struggling to keep living and finding
suddenly the threat to his life lying helpless before him, that he had a good heart. Do the words lose
one bit of their force or meaning if said of the boy and his pigeons?

Most men have always recognized their kinship with the rest of creation and their responsibility
to other living things, in spite of the fact that moralists in our tradition hardly so much as mention
it. When the question comes up for wise men to consider, they more often than not relegate it to a
footnote or an appendix, thinking it quite ancillary to any serious moral considerations, even though
it has as much seriousness and urgency as any moral problem that can be raised. Enthralled by man's
rational nature, and finding no sign of it among what men fondly refer to as the brutes, philosophers
and moralists have tended to dismiss the latter as mere things. Descartes even went so far as to call
them automata, implying that they do not even feel pain an idea, one would think, that could never
find lodgement in the mind of any man who had seen animals bleeding in traps. Nor has religion, in
our culture, done much to offset such an error. The Christian religion, indeed, compares most
unfavorably with others in this respect, and in not one of its creeds will one find the least
consideration of animals generally. The theological emphasis, to be sure, is not on man's rational
mind, but on his soul, which other animals are somewhat arbitrarily denied to possess. The result is
the same as before, however; animals are thought of as mere things to be treated in any way that one
pleases. One can hear a thousand sermons, or study the casuistic manuals of an entire theological
library, without finding a word on the subject of kindness to animals. When, in fact, it was proposed
to establish in Rome a society for the prevention of cruelty to animals, the effort was vetoed by
Pope Pius IX on the ground that we have no duty to them.2 His reason and theology were without
doubt correct. It can be doubted, however, whether the abstract kind of duty he had in mind is
owed to anything under the sun. Yet, it cannot be doubted that animals suffer exactly as men do,
and they suffer unutterably because they cannot protest, cannot make their "claims," of which
William James spoke, very articulate. The heart is no less evil that takes delight in the suffering of a
cat, than one that extracts similar delight from the sufferings of men. The latter we may fear more,
but the moral pronouncement is the same in each case.
INCENTIVES AND CONSEQUENCES
Next it will be noted that on this account the consequences of one's deeds are of little relevance
to pronouncing upon the moral significance of those deeds themselves. Here, again, this view is in
perfect agreement with Kant, and in complete opposition to Mill. It is not, Kant said, what we
happen to produce by our actions that counts, but why we perform those actions to begin with.
"But Kant, obsessed with rational nature, decided that the only acceptable moral incentive would
have to be a rational one: namely, the rational apprehension of one's duty, according to the formula
of the categorical imperative. My account, on the other hand, provides no such rational formula at
all. Indeed, the impulse of compassion so far transcends reason that it can as easily as not contradict
it. It is sometimes the very irrationality of compassion, the residual capacity to respond with
tenderness and love when all one's reason counsels otherwise, that confers upon a compassionate
act its sweetness, beauty, and nobility. In exactly the same way does the irrationality of malice, the
pointless but deliberate infliction of suffering, produce its acute and revolting ugliness.
Still, Kant was surely right in directing perception straight to the incentive of action rather than to its
results, and Mill quite wrong in wanting to consider only the latter. Thus, it is a great evil that men
should suffer and die. Considering these effects by themselves, the evil is the same no matter what
produces it. But it is not a moral evil. Whether a man dies from being struck by lightning, by an
automobile, or by a bullet, the effect is exactly the same in each case; and, considering only the
effect, its evil is the same. This, however, is no moral judgment at all. To note that a given man dies
Edward Westermarck, The Origin and Development o f the Moral Ideas (London: Macmillan, 1917), Vol.
II, p. 5o8
2

from a lightning bolt, and that this is an evil, is to make no moral judgment on the lightning, the
man, or his death. It is only to make a pronouncement of good and evil, of the kind considered far
back in this discussion. It is, in other words, to describe a fact and add to the description an
indication of the reaction to that fact of some conative or purposeful being. This becomes all the
more evident when we consider that all men suffer and die, simply because they are sentient and
mortal beings. No one escapes this fate. Yet, no morality at all turns on it; it is simply a fact,
against which men may recoil, but not one that gives rise to any moral praise or blame. Nor is the
picture automatically altered when such evils are found to result from human actions. A thousand
men die on American highways every week as a result of their own actions, those of others, or
both, and although no one doubts that this is a great evil, it is only rarely that the question of
moral evil even arises. It is a problem of good and evil not significantly different from the evil of
cancer. It is an evil to cope with, to minimize, but not one that normally prompts moral
condemnation. Even when we bring the matter down to particular actions that are deliberate and
willed, the situation is not significantly changed. That an insect should be killed (by an
entomologist, for example), or a cat (by a medical researcher), or even a man (by an enemy soldier)
are in varying degrees evil, but it is not the moral sentiment that expresses itself here. What is
expressed is a certain reverence for life, and also a fear and horror at its loss, as in wars; but the
moral condemnation of a particular deed is far in the background, if not entirely absent. Indeed, if
we recall my six stories, it is clear that most of the consequences of the actions described are quite
insignificant. All are things that happen normally, all the time; and, yet, the moral judgment is
identical, except for degree, in the first three examples and identical again in the rest. In one set of
cases an insect dies, a cat dies, and an old man and an infant die, all things that happen pretty
regularly. Now one might want, with good reason, to insist that the death of two human beings is
hardly trivial, but the thing to note is that even if it were known that these two would have died
soon of starvation, had they not been discovered, this would not in the least reduce the moral
repugnance of their murders. The moral revulsion arises not from their deaths, but how they died
and, in particular, from what was in the hearts of their murderers. And in the second set of stories
we find that some pigeons live, to rejoin the millions of them already on earth, a man receives less of
a beating than appeared imminent, and another, who had just narrowly escaped death in battle, does
not die after all. These are hardly consequences that change the direction of man's destiny. From the
standpoint of the good of the world as a whole, they are almost devoid of significance. Yet, one
stands in a certain awe of them all, as soon as he sees what lies behind them: it is a compassionate
heart that manages to overcome fear, hatred, and the sense of duty itself. However little it has won
the praise of moralists and theologians, however little it may deck itself out with the ornamentation
of intellect and reason, however strange and mysterious it may seem to the mind, it is still the
fugitive and unpredictable thing that alone quickens moral esteem and stamps its possessor as a man
who, although fallible and ignorant and capable of much evil, is nevertheless a man of deep
goodness and virtue.
236
CAROL GILLIGAN
to the limitations of a justice-focused moral theory and highlight

presence of care concerns in the moral thinking of both wome and
men. In this light, the Care/Justice group composed of one thir of the
women and one third of the men becomes of particular intere , pointing to the need for further research that attends to the w y people
organize justice and care in relation to one another- whethe , for example, people alternate perspectives, like seeing the rabbit an the duck in
the rabbit~duck figure, or integrate the two perspectives a way that
resolves or sustains ambiguity.
Third, if the moral domain is comprised of at least o moral orientations, the focus phenomenon suggests that people h ve a tendency to
lose sight of one moral perspective in arriving at mo al decision-a liability equally shared by both sexes. The present ti dings further suggest that men and women tend to lose sight of fferent perspectives.
The most striking result is the virtual absence care-focused reasoning among men. Since the men raised concerns bout care in discussing
moral conflicts and thus presented care conce s as morally relevant, a
question is why they did not elaborate th se concerns to a greater
extent.
In summary, it becomes clear why atte ion to women's moral thinking led to the identification of a differe t voice and raised questions
about the place of justice and care wit a comprehensive moral theory. It also is clear how the selection o an all-male sample for research
on moral judgment fosters an equati of morality with justice, providing little data discrepant with this ew. In the present study, data discrepant with a justice-focused mo al theory comes from a third of the
women. Previously, such women ere seen as having a problem understanding "morality." Yet these w men may also be seen as exposing the
problem in a justice-focused m al theory. This may explain the decision
of researchers to exclude girl and women at the initial stage of moral
judgment research. If one gins with the premise that "all morality
consists in respect for rule , ' 6 or "virtue is one and its name is justice," 7
then women are likely to ppear problematic within moral theory. If one
ral judgments, the problem becomes how to
begins with .women's
construct a theory tha encompasses care as a focus of moral attention
rather than as a sub "Ciiary moral concern.
THE ETHICS OF CARE
II
unpublished manuscript, 1986).

5. L. Kohlberg, Moral Developme . ; also L . ~alker, ".Sex
th
~1~~re~~~~~ure
~
1
Development of Moral Reaso mg: A Cntical Review o
Child Development (1984) 5 3): 677-691.

6. J. Piaget, Moral Judgment
7. L. Kohlberg, Moral Devel ment.
II
I
I
I
\
FEMINIST ETHICAL THEORY
Virginia Held
Virginia Held is professor of philosophy and wome~'s s.tudies at
Hunter College and The Graduate School of the City f.!n.iversity of New
York. She is author of The Public Intere~t and ~ndividual lnte~e~ts
(1970), Rights and Goods: Justifying Social Acti.o? (1984), Feminist
Morality: Transforming Culture, Society, and Poht~cs (19~3~, and s~e
is editor of Justice and Care: Essential Readings m .Fen:i1mst Ethics
(1995) . According to Held, feminist ethical theory, w_hich mclude.s (b.ut
is not limited to) an ethics of care, is contra~ted with ethic~ of 1ustice
such as Kantian and utilitarian moral theories. In her overview of care
ethics, Held highlights three main points of con.t rast ~etw_een ~are
ethics (and feminist ethics generally) and an ethics ?f 1ustice. First,
these views differ in their conceptions of m~ral conflict. Second, th~y
differ in the role of emotions in morality. Third, they are based on differing conceptions of persons.
Notes
1. C. Gilligan, " a Different Voice: Women's Conceptions of Self and of
Morality," H vard Educational Review (1982) 47: 481-517; In a Different
Voice: Psych logical Theory and Women's Development (Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard
iversity Press, 1977).
2. J. Piaget The Moral Judgment of the Child (New York, N.Y. : The Free
Press P erback Edition, 1965), pp. 76-84.
3. L. Koh erg, The Psychology of Moral Development (San Francisco, Cali:
Harp &.Row, 1984).
WWWEW . <:
c. Gilligan and J . Attanucci, Two or:al Orientations (Harvard University,
4.
237
F eminist moral philosophers are a diverse group h~lding a variety of

views. Some feminists subscribe to a modified Kantian moral th.eory,
some to modified liberal-contractualist moral theory, some are virtue
ethicists. Some criticize the very attempt to capture t?e conce~x;i.s. of
morality in a theory; they favor the cul~ivation of ethical sens1ti':'ty,
especially through narrative understa~dmg, tho~gh .to argue fo~ domg
so involves theorizing. Despite such vanegated thin~n~, somethmg has
emer ed I believe, that can be characterized as fem1mst1mor~l ~heor~,
and ttat can be seen as a distinct type of ethical theory. I will m this
. . . H Id "Fem'nist Ethical Theory" The Proceeding,<; of the Twen tieth World Co ngret>s of Philosophy Vol. 1
e ,
'
Ethics 10999 ): 41-50 . Reprinted by permission.
From Virgm1a
.g:;:z.~
~ - ,.~:
- . - .
238
VIRGINIA HELD
shor~ ~aper focus on some important features of this theory, showing

how It IS a deep challenge to, and not a mere extension of or addition to
the other major types of theory in contrast with which it has been and
is still being developed.
Feminist ethical theory usually includes the concerns that have been
developed under the heading of"the ethics of care" or "care ethics." But
feminist ethical theory should not simply be equated with the ethics of
care, sir_ic: feminist debates have led to rather widespread acceptance of
the posit10n that care ethics alone may be inadequate. This does not
mean that feminist moral theorists advocating an ethics of care find
ar_iy other type of ethical theory acceptable if only it is supplemented
wit~ some concerns about care. But they may recognize that care ethics,
~hile a fundamental challenge to other types of ethical theory, needs to
mclud_e or be complemented by other moral theory than itself How
these issues are to be sorted out is still very much under discussion, as
should b~ exp_e cted for so distinct a way of thinking that is only a few
de~ad_es mto its e~plorations. The ethics of care emerged as the bias
b_m lt mto the dommant moral theories was uncovered by feminist critiques. In Margaret Walker's interpretation the dominant "theoreticaljuridical" accounts of morality, of which Ka~tian ethics and utilitarianis_m ar~ such clear examples, repeatedly invoke the image of"a frater~ut~2ofmdependent peers invokin~ laws to deliver verdicts with authority. In another account, the domrnant moral theories give primacy to
values such as autonomy, independence, non-interference self-determinat~on, fai~ness, and rights, and involve a "systematic' devaluing of
notwns of mterdependence, relatedness, and positive involvement" in
the lives of others. 3
In such theories, the experience of women involved in childcare is
~bought irrelevant to morality: it is seen as natural, instinctive behav10r, or the morally neutral exercise of a personal preference, or it is overlooked altogether. Not only is the experience of women caring for children_ and others ~xc!uded; so is that of most people disadvantaged econom1cally, ~ducationally and racially, and so is that of children. And yet,
Walker wntes, sue~ theoretical-juridical accounts are standardly put
forw~rd ,~s appropnat~, for "the" ~oral agent, or for deciding rationally
how '!"e ,, ought to act. The canorucal form of moral judgment in moral
theones, Walker and others conclude, is thus the judgment of someone
resembling "a judge, manager, bureaucrat, or gamesman .... "4 This
shows how moral philosophers have represented in abstract and idealized forms the judgments of some people in a dominant social order. It
d?es not. establish that this is how morality ought to be represented,
smce d~mg so relegates the experience of so many, for instance, of
wom:n rn caretaking activities or of blacks forging communal ties for
survival, to the status of the nonmoral or the morally deficient.
Feminists insist that the experience of women is as relevant to
morality as any other experience, and not only when women enter male
-----------'l"!Pll!l!l!iMlll'*!I_______________
THE ETHICS OF CARE
239
or "public" realms, but anywhere. Those who care fo~ chil~r.e~, f?r
instance, continually face moral problems and engage rn activities m
constant need of moral evaluation. Feminist moral philosophers challenge the rationalistic and individualistic assumpt_ions of dominant
moral theories, and the primacy given to the d~mrnant values. The
ethics of care gives expression to women's expenence of empathy, of
mutual trust, of emotions highly relevant to morality. It sees hui:ian
beings as interdependent and connected, and ~akes clear the deficiencies of the dominant moral theories in evaluatmg the moral aspects of
human life in families and among friends. But the ethics of care is not
then limited to the context of "private" life: having rethought the
assumptions of the dominant moral theories, it offers a challenge to any
moral theory for any context.5
.
Within dominant ethical theory, a great deal of attent10n has been
devoted to the differences between deontological, especially Kantian,
theory, and consequentialist, especially utilitarian, theory. But from
the perspective of an ethic of care, the si~ilarities_ are mo~e pronounced than the differences: both rely on a smgle ultimate umversal
principle (the Categorial Imperative or the Principle of U_tility); both
are rationalistic in their moral epistemologies; both are built on a concept of the person that stresses our individualism and independ~nce;
and both are theories of right action that seek to recommend ratwnal
decisions. Both can be characterized as ethics of justice, and it is in
contrast with both that the ethics of care has been and continues to be
.
. .
developed. 6
The ethics of care, first, appreciates rather than is susp1c10us of, our
ties to particular others with whom we have a~tual relationship~. The
universalistic and abstract aspects of the dommant moral theones of
impartial rules thus become subject to critique rather than being
beyond question. Dominant moral theories interpret moral problems 8:s
standardly occurring in a conflict between an individual eg? and umversal principles by which an individual should be constramed as he
pursues his interests. An ethic of care, in contrast: focuse~ on ~he a~ea
between these extremes, valuing particular others m relatwnships with
us. Those who sincerely care for others act for particular others and for
the particular relationships between us, not for all rational beings or
the greatest number, and not for their own individual interes~s. _We do
not play with our children out ofrespect for the moral law, and m important ways we care for those we take care of for their sakes, not for our
own satisfaction.
When dominant moral theories attend to relations of family and
friendship, if they do so at all, they may see them as permitte~. B.ut they
do not allow the values of such actual relations ever to take pnonty over
the universal requirements of impartial morality. Those motivated b?'
particular attachments are suspected of favoritism or tribalism or religious intolerance; universal principles, it is claimed, must always be
.,,,,.,,~~~_.,.,.
_
.., ~ ~ , - --
240
VIRGINIA HELD
THE ETHICS OF CARE
erate to further their own interests. Liberals often point out that these
interests are not necessarily selfish: a person may enjoy making a
child happy. But an ethic of care sees our relationships to others .as
much more than optional extras we can choose to engage ourselves m,
or not. The liberal concept of the person conceptualizes us as individuals first, autonomously deciding how to act towards others. Our idei:itity depends on our individuality. What connects us to others is
thought of as less fundamental. In contrast, the ethics of care sees pe.rsons as inherently connected and interdependent, though for certain
limited purposes we can agree to treat each other as if we were liberal individuals. To the ethics of care, our relationships are part of what
we inherently are, and many such relationships are not voluntary.
Every person starts out as a child dependent on others for many years;
we will never cease to be the child of our parents, and to have been
formed in a certain social context. If, as adults, we are able to think
and act independently, this is because a network of social relatio?s
enables us to. Of course, for argument's sake, we can assume, as social
contract theorists do, that we are rational, self-sufficient individuals.
But doing so can seriously distort morality and social and political
thinking, because the degree to which such an assumption does not
and should not describe reality is so easily forgotten. The currently
overwhelming pervasiveness of market-oriented contractualist thi~~
ing about morality, education, and healthcare, as well as about pohtica:l institutions makes clear how easily it is forgotten. We know we can
imagine oursel~es as abstract individuals, but we should consider the
implications and effects of supposing that this conception of "econ?mic man" is the appropriate concept of the person for our moral thmking. The ethics of care elaborates an alternative: the concept of the
relational person.
As initially developed, the ethics of care was sometimes proposed as
an ethic that could take the place of the ethics of justice. But many feminists have argued that the concerns of justice, with its framework of
rights and obligations and its attention to equality and liberty, should
by no means be abandoned. To many, then, ways need to be found to
integrate justice and care, to combine their moral concerns. Some advocates of an ethic of care want to incorporate justice into an expanded
ethic of care: within social relations of a caring kind we should, for
instance, recognize the claims of justice. Others see the claims of justice and care as comparably important for morality. Grace Clement
argues that both the ethics of justice and the ethics of c~re ."c~pture
something real and important about morality, and that ms1stmg on
ranking them trivializes the contributions of the ethic deem~d .less
basic."s But like other advocates of care ethics, she opposes ass1m1lating the ethic of care to that of justice, since that would preserve "the
traditional hierarchy," and would interpret care "through the perspective of justice, thereby devaluing and marginalizing it." 9 No advocate of
accorded priority. An ethic of care, in contrast, holds that actual relations

between actual persons may at times be more morally compelling than
abstract rules. Or it may be held that universal rules are inapplicable or
inappropriate in certain contexts, though we should certainly make
moral evali.iations of relations between persons. The dominant moral
theories claim to offer moral guidance for all moral contexts: if moral
rules do not apply in certain kinds of cases, they are not considered
moral cases. As Susan Mendus notes, however, applying impartial moral
rules to love and friendship is not only inexpedient, it is a "deformed
model" to apply to such contexts. 7 And yet we need to consider when
relationships are good or bad, trusting, considerate, and caring, or mistrustful, manipulative, and exploitative; we need to make moral evaluations in this domain as much as in any other. Relationships between people cannot be "outside" morality, as the ties between women and children
in the family have standardly been construed as being.
Of course care ethics is not saying that we can never make universal
judgments about what counts as good care, or what makes a relationship exploitative. On the contrary, care ethics distinguishes itself from
the relativism of a purely case by case or situational approach. But in
deciding when an exception to a rule should be made, justice ethics
mu~t posit another rule, and rationally decide which has priority. Care
ethics can argue that informed sensitivity and responsiveness to persons and their relationships and to the situations they are in can be a
better guide.
Second, the ethics of care values rather than rejects the contribution
of the e~otions to morality. In trying to figure out what we ought to do,
care ethics asserts that sensitivity, sympathy, empathy, and solidarity of
feeling are often appropriate sources of insight. When rationalist moral
t~eo~es consider the emotions, they tend to refer to egoistic or aggressive impulses that threaten an agent's ability to act in accordance with
moral principles. An ethic of care, in contrast, appreciates that there
are, a.s well, "moral emotions." Since even these can be misguided, as in
the kmd of caring that degenerates into undue control and domination
or the kind of excessive concern for others that undermines a sense of
self-worth, we need an ethic of care, not the mere fact of caring behav10r. But both in understanding what morality recommends as well as in
acting accordingly, an ethic of care shows us how we should value and
cultivate appropriate emotions. It shows us how moral theories and
moral epistemologies that rely entirely on reason and rational deductions or calculations are deficient.
Third, and perhaps most important, the ethics of care employs a
conception of persons as inherently interconnected rather than fundamentally individualistic. Dominant moral theories see the person in
terms of the liberal notion of rational, autonomous moral agent, or of
sel~-interested individual. Society is seen as made up of independent
entities who are constrained by agreed upon contracts and who coop-
241
. . . 0. .:-.~=~..,.:-.~~-..,.------
1mm
. ~,~,::---------('<--.~--..--.."-'
.?...
~ 1,....~t~r.-."'.!,.:!11.zr,..!!!l!m'!'ll:
-~,.~
~ ~
-':'.
..:
:
'.,r ...
:
THE ETHICS OF CARE

242
the ethics of care seems willing to see it as a less than equally valuable
moral outlook, though many wish to mesh it with the ethics of justice.
And almost all advocates of care ethics reject the view that although
care may be a suitable ethic for the "private" realm of personal relations, it is not an ethic for the "public" and political domain of relations
between strangers. Fiona Robinson develops a "critical ethic of care"
quite capable of moving beyond personal relations and dealing with
issues of national and global injustice. "The ethics of care," she writes,
"undermines the individualistic moral logic that leads us to believe
that rights and obligations are somehow disconnected from the networks of social relations in which actors-from individuals to statesare situated."10 Neil MacCormick has observed that "justice matters to
people who are already in community with each other." 11 Those advocating an ethic of care can argue that caring relations could gradually
build a community encompassing the globe.
How to distinguish the ethics of care from the ethics of justice and
thus from Kantian, utilitarian, and contractualist moral theory has
been extensively explored and is by now fairly clear. How to distinguish
the ethics of care from virtue ethics is less well delineated, since many
of the concerns of the ethics of care are closer to those of Aristotle,
Hume, and contemporary virtue theorists than to those of the ethics of
justice. Both the ethics of care and virtue ethics seek morality in practices and the values they embody. Both understand that morality must
be nurtured and cultivated in the emotions as well as reflected in
thinking. But as so far developed, virtue ethics has not paid adequate
attention to the practices of caring in which women and disadvantaged
members of societies have had so much relevant experience. And virtue
theory has often seen the virtues as incorporated in various traditions
or traditional communities. The ethics of care, in contrast, is wary of
existing traditions and traditional communities: virtually all are patriarchal. The ethics of care is not the actual morality of caring as practiced in societies structured by gender domination. It envisions,
instead, how caring should be practiced in all social contexts in postpatriarchal society, of which we have no traditions or experience.
The virtues as usually discussed in virtue ethics attach to individual persons, as dispositions. The ethics of care, on the other hand,
focuses on caring relations between persons, relations such as trust,
and mutual responsiveness to need, on both the personal and wider
social level. The values of relations cannot be reduced to the values of
the dispositions of the persons in the relation, or to the value of the
relation to the person as an individual. Care should thus not be seen
as just another disposition in the seemingly endless catalogue of
virtues. And the ethics of care characteristically requires objective
evaluations of the effectiveness of caring practices, evaluations that
virtue ethics is often not equipped to supply. For various reasons, then,
the ethics of care should be seen as distinct from both the ethics ofjus-
--
243
VIRGINIA HELD
....
--.-....-~
tice and virtue theory. Care is more than yet another virtuors disposition, as it is more than a series of acts, and ~or_e tha1:1 a va ue_ among
others. It seeks to develop caring relations w1thm which we w~l t~~~~
each other enough respond enough to each other, care enoug a
each other to respect each others' rights, act for the good of all, and be
"M
fR
"
virtuous.
The history of philosophy that has constructed t~e. an ~ "~ason f
is a biased enterprise. So is the history that has_ env1s10ned t .e
an o
Virtue." The ramifications of these in moral philosoph~ ~nd ~-al\ t~at
it influences are now being called into question by fem1mst et 1ca t eory. The possibilities for a type of ethical theory that can transcend the
distortions of gender are beginning to be apparent.
Notes
I do not share the views of those writers who try to disti_nguish the term
1. th. l'
d 'moral" I here use the terms as more or less mterchangea?le,
t~o~~ course v./e should ~istinguish actual moral beliefs and ethical
practices from moral evaluations of them.
.
A Fi . . t St d n
2. Margaret Urban Walker, Moral U) n d erstandmgs:
eminis
u Y i
2
1
Ethics (New York: Routledge, 1998 ,
. .
d
3 Piona Robinson Globalizing Care: Ethics, Femini st Th~ory, an
International Rel~tions (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, forthcommg), 10.
:r1
4. Walker op. cit.

.
S
d F u cs
5. See my Feminist Morality : Trapnsformlin9g93C
) ulture, ociety, an
oii
(Chicago: University of Chicago ress,
. .
.
. ..
See Justice and Care: Essential Readings in Feminist Ethics, ed. Virgmia
6
Held (Boulder CO Westview Press, 1995).
.
.
7. Susan Mendu~, "S~me Mistakes about Impartiality," Political Studies 4 4
(1996): 319-327.
8. Grace Clement, Care, Autonomy, and Justice
(B
ld
CO W t ew
ou er,
es vi
Press, 1996), 117.

9. Ibid., 5.
10. Robinson, op. cit., 47.
.
lit . A
f g
11. Neil MacCormick, "Justice as AnU-Contractuahst Impartia Y ssen in
with Reservations," Political Studies 44 (1996): 309.
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154

By a kingdom I understand the union of di rent rational beings in

mmanuel Kant . . . stresses consistency. Indeed, he says that

From Basic Moral Philosophy (Wadsworth, 1993).

KANTIAN ETHICAL THEORY

The Concept of Duty

Objective Principles and Hypothetical Imperatives

KANTIAN ETHICAL THEORY

We do not know whether there are in fact other rational beings

-is what Kant calls an imperative. It consists of two parts. The

3. A fully rational being who wants to make an early class on time

A fully rational being who wants to be happy will be considerate

If you want to be happy, you ought not to take drugs.

A fully rational being who wants to be happy will not drive at

The assumptions in principles 4 through 6 are, of course, that to risk

KANTIAN ETHICAL THEORY

apply alike to all conceivable rational beings. But the assertorical

Imperative 4 is for Kant a categorical imperative. It does not require

Subjective Principles or Maxims

A fully rational being would tell the truth.

8. A fully rational being would keep promises.

A fully rational being would not cheat.

10. A fully rational being would act benevolently toward others.

A fully rational being would keep promises.

An imperfectly rational being ought to keep promises.

I am an imperfectly rational being.

4. Therefore, I ought to keep promises.

~-..~--="~~-=-- "'"' - :;"o;-4.-~_,,; __-.., ._- ....C'._ .

160 ROBERT L. HOLMES

KANTIAN ETHICAL THEORY

Remember that all the preceding is by way of trying to explain how

The Categorical Imperative

G&:i ,1; 14-,_1 .~t iEE

KANTIAN ETHICAL THEORY

beyond the particularity of the act there is a generality provided by the

---- --~~~.;::~~~....;::-......... --~z::s;:;. - ~.r:jn--...,

would simply be a world in which people were uneducated and lazy.

KANTIAN ETHICAL THEORY

must consider whether such a world would be rationally conceivable, and

A fully rational being would do X.

An imperfectly rational being ought to do X.

we need a premise such as

But once we formulate an assumed premise of this sort, we see it has

Press, 1949), p. 135.

KANTIAN ETHICAL THEORY

Kant states the Formula of the End in Itself as foJA.ows:

KANT ON TREATING PEOPLE AS

To understand this we need to know wh it is to treat a person as a

Onora O'Neill is professor of philosophy and prin pal of Newnham

Kant's moral theory has acquir

Using Persons as Mere Means

~~.;;;-=-'-~-=--;:.;...-~~- --- ---

From Richard Taylor, Good and Evil

The Virtue of Compassion

MALICE: THE FIRST CLASS OF ACTIONS

From Richard Taylor, Good and Evil

From Richard Taylor, Good and Evil

COMPASSION: THE SECOND CLASS OF ACTIONS

From Richard Taylor, Good and Evil

From Richard Taylor, Good and Evil

From Richard Taylor, Good and Evil

From Richard Taylor, Good and Evil

to the limitations of a justice-focused moral theory and highlight

THE ETHICS OF CARE

---- --~.;::~....;::-......... --~z::s;:;. - ~.r:jn--...,