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Liberalism and Its Critics
READINGS IN SOCIAL A N D POLITICAL T H E O R Y
Edited by William Connolly and Steven Lukes
Legitimacy and the State edited by William Connolly

Power edited by Steven Lukes
Democracy edited by George Kateb
Language and Politics edited by Michael Shapiro
Rational Choice edited by Jon Elster
Liberalism and
Its Critics
Edited by MICHAEL J. SANDEL
n
N e w York University Press
N e w York 1984
Tlx
©Michael J. Sandel, 1984
First published in 1984 in the U.S.A. by

New York University Press, Washington Square,
New York N.Y. 10003
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Main entry under title:
Liberalism and its critics.—(Readings in social and political
theory)
Bibliography, p.
Includes index.
1. Liberalism—Addresses, essays, lectures.
1. Sandel, Michael J. II. Series.
JC571.L536 1984 320.5'1 84-16503
ISBN 0-8147-7840-2
ISBN 0-8147-7841-0 (pbk.)
A'21
Typeset by Katerprint Co. Ltd, Oxford

Printed and bound in Great Britain
Contents
Introduction 1
PART 1 13
1 Isaiah Berlin 15
T w o C o n c e p t s of Liberty
2 John Rawls 37
T h e Right a n d the G o o d Contrasted
3 Ronald Dworkin 60
Liberalism
4 Friedrich A. Hayek 80
Equality, Value, and M e r i t
5 Robert Nozick 100
M o r a l C o n s t r a i n t s and Distributive Justice
P A R T II 123
6 Alasdair Maclntyre 125
The Virtues, the Unity of a H u m a n Life,
a n d the C o n c e p t of a Tradition
7 Peter Berger 149
O n the Obsolescence of the Concept of H o n o u r
•8 Michael J. Sandel 159
Justice a n d the G o o d
9 Charles Taylor 177
Hegel: H i s t o r y a n d Politics
10 MtchaelWalzer 200
Welfare, M e m b e r s h i p a n d Need
11 Michael Oakeshott 219
Political E d u c a t i o n
VI Contents
11 Hannah A rendt 239
The Revolutionary Tradition and its Lost
Treasure
Index 265
Introduction
Liberals often t a k e pride in defending w h a t they oppose -

p o r n o g r a p h y , for e x a m p l e , or u n p o p u l a r views. They say the state
s h o u l d n o t impose a preferred way of life, but should leave its
citizens as free as possible to choose their o w n values and ends,
consistent with a similar liberty for others. This c o m m i t m e n t to
freedom of choice requires liberals constantly to distinguish
between permission and praise, between allowing a practice and
e n d o r s i n g it. It is o n e thing to allow p o r n o g r a p h y , they argue,
s o m e t h i n g else to affirm it.
Conservatives sometimes exploit this distinction by ignoring it.
They charge t h a t those w h o w o u l d allow abortions favour abor
tion, t h a t o p p o n e n t s of school prayer o p p o s e prayer, that those
w h o defend the rights of C o m m u n i s t s sympathize with their cause.
A n d in a pattern of a r g u m e n t familiar in o u r politics, liberals reply
by invoking higher principles; it is not that they dislike, say,
p o r n o g r a p h y less, r a t h e r that they value toleration, or freedom of
choice, or fair p r o c e d u r e s m o r e .
But in c o n t e m p o r a r y debate, the liberal rejoinder seems
increasingly fragile, its moral basis increasingly unclear. Why
should toleration a n d freedom of choice prevail when other
i m p o r t a n t values are also at stake? T o o often the answer implies
some version of moral relativism, the idea that it is w r o n g to
'legislate m o r a l i t y ' because all morality is merely subjective. ' W h o
is t o say w h a t is literature a n d w h a t is filth? T h a t is a value
j u d g e m e n t , a n d w h o s e values should decide?'
Relativism usually a p p e a r s less as a claim than as a question.
( ' W h o is to judge?') But it is a question t h a t can also be asked of the
values t h a t liberals defend. Toleration a n d freedom a n d fairness
are values t o o , a n d they can hardly be defended by the claim t h a t
n o values can be defended. So it is a mistake to affirm liberal values
by a r g u i n g that all values are merely subjective. The relativist
defence of liberalism is n o defence at all.
2 Introduction
What, then, can be the moral basis of the higher principles the
liberal invokes? Recent political philosophy has offered two main
alternatives - one utilitarian, the other Kantian. The utilitarian
view, following John Stuart Mill, defends liberal principles in the
name of maximizing the general welfare. The state should n o t
impose on its citizens a preferred way of life, even for their o w n
good, because doing so will reduce the sum of h u m a n happiness, at
least in the long run; better that people choose for themselves, even
if, on occasion, they get it wrong. 'The only freedom which deserves
the n a m e ' , writes Mill, 'is that of pursuing our o w n good in o u r
o w n way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs,
or impede their efforts to obtain it.' He adds that his a r g u m e n t does
not depend on any notion of abstract right, only on the principle of
the greatest good for the greatest number. 'I regard utility as the
ultimate appeal on all ethical questions; but it must be utility in the
largest sense, grounded on the permanent interests of m a n as a
1
progressive being.'
Many objections have been raised against utilitarianism as a
general doctrine of moral philosophy. Some have questioned the
concept of utility, and the assumption that all h u m a n goods are in
principle commensurable. Others have objected that by reducing all
values to preferences and desires, utilitarians are unable to a d m i t
qualitative distinctions of w o r t h , unable to distinguish noble desires
from base ones. But most recent debate has focused on w h e t h e r
utilitarianism offers a convincing basis for liberal principles,
including respect for individual rights.
In one respect, utilitarianism would seem well-suited to liberal
purposes. Maximizing utility does not require judging people's
values, only aggregating them. And the willingness to aggregate
preferences without judging them suggests a tolerant spirit, even a
democratic one. When people go to the polls, we count their votes
whatever they are.
But the utilitarian calculus is not always as liberal as it first
appears. If enough cheering Romans pack the Colosseum to w a t c h
the lion devour the Christian, the collective pleasure of the R o m a n s
will surely outweigh the pain of the Christian, intense t h o u g h it be.
Or if a big majority abhors a small religion and wants it b a n n e d , the
balance of preferences will favour suppression, not toleration.
Utilitarians sometimes defend individual rights on the g r o u n d s t h a t
respecting them now will serve utility in the long run. But this
calculation is precarious and contingent. It hardly secures the
liberal promise not to impose on some the values of others As the
majority will is an inadequate instrument of liberal politics, so
Introduction 3
the utilitarian p h i l o s o p h y is an inadequate foundation for liberal
principles.
T h e case against utilitarianism was m a d e most powerfully by
Kant. H e a r g u e d t h a t empirical principles, such as utility, were unfit
to serve as basis for the m o r a l law. A wholly instrumental defence
of freedom a n d rights not only leaves rights vulnerable, but fails to
respect the inherent dignity of persons. T h e utilitarian calculus
treats people as m e a n s to the happiness of others, not as ends in
2
themselves, w o r t h y of r e s p e c t .
C o n t e m p o r a r y liberals extend Kant's argument with the claim
t h a t utilitarianism fails t o t a k e seriously t h e distinction between
persons. In seeking a b o v e all to maximize the general welfare, the
utilitarian treats society as a w h o l e as if it were a single person; it
conflates o u r m a n y , diverse desires into a single system of desires,
a n d tries to m a x i m i z e . It is indifferent to the distribution of
satisfactions a m o n g persons, except insofar as this may affect the
overall s u m . But this fails to respect o u r plurality a n d distinctness.
It uses s o m e as m e a n s t o the happiness of all, and so fails to respect
each as an end in himself.
M o d e r n - d a y K a n t i a n s reject the utilitarian approach in favour of
an ethic t h a t takes rights m o r e seriously. In their view, certain rights
are so f u n d a m e n t a l t h a t even the general welfare cannot override
them. As J o h n Rawls writes: 'Each person possesses an inviolability
founded on justice t h a t even the welfare of society as a whole
c a n n o t override . . . the rights secured by justice are not subject to
3
political b a r g a i n i n g o r t o the calculus of social interests.'
So K a n t i a n liberals need an account of rights t h a t does not
depend o n utilitarian considerations. M o r e t h a n this, they need an
a c c o u n t t h a t does n o t d e p e n d on any particular conception of the
g o o d , t h a t does n o t p r e s u p p o s e the superiority of one way of life
over o t h e r s . O n l y a justification neutral a m o n g ends could preserve
the liberal resolve n o t t o favour any particular ends, or to impose
o n its citizens a preferred w a y of life.
But w h a t sort of justification could this be? H o w is it possible to
affirm certain liberties a n d rights as fundamental w i t h o u t embrac
ing s o m e vision of the g o o d life, w i t h o u t endorsing some ends over
others? It w o u l d seem w e are back to the relativist predicament - to
affirm liberal principles w i t h o u t embracing any particular ends.
T h e solution p r o p o s e d by Kantian liberals is to d r a w a distinc
tion between the ' r i g h t ' a n d the ' g o o d ' - between a framework of
basic rights a n d liberties, a n d the conceptions of the good that
people m a y c h o o s e t o p u r s u e within the framework. It is one thing
for the state to s u p p o r t a fair framework, they argue, something
4 Introduction
else to affirm some particular ends. For example, it is one thing to
defend the right to free speech so that people may be free t o form
their own opinions and choose their o w n ends, but something else
to support it on the grounds that a life of political discussion is
inherently worthier t h a n a life unconcerned with public affairs, or
on the grounds that free speech will increase the general welfare.
Only the first defence is available on the Kantian view, resting as it
does on the ideal of a neutral framework.
N o w the commitment to a framework neutral a m o n g ends can be
seen as a kind of value - in this sense the Kantian liberal is n o
relativist - but its value consists precisely in its refusal t o affirm a
preferred way of life or conception of the good. For Kantian
liberals, then, the right is prior to the good, and in two senses. First,
individual rights cannot be sacrificed for the sake of the general
good, and second, the principles of justice that specify these rights
cannot be premissed on any particular vision of tbe good life. W h a t
justifies the rights is not that they maximize the general welfare or
otherwise p r o m o t e the good, but rather that they comprise a fair
framework within which individuals and groups can choose their
own values and ends, consistent with a similar liberty for o t h e r s .
Of course, proponents of the rights-based ethic notoriously
disagree on what rights are fundamental, and on w h a t political
arrangements the ideal of the neutral framework requires. Egali
tarian liberals support the welfare state, and favour a scheme of
civil liberties together with certain social and economic rights -
rights to welfare, education, health care, and so on. Libertarian
liberals defend the market economy, and claim that redistributive
policies violate people's rights; they favour a scheme of civil liber
ties combined with a strict regime of private property rights. But
whether egalitarian or libertarian, rights-based liberalism begins
with the claim that we are separate, individual persons, each with
our own aims, interests, and conceptions of the good, and seeks a
framework of rights that will enable us to realize our capacity as
free moral agents, consistent with a similar liberty for o t h e r s .
Within academic philosophy, the last decade or so has seen the

ascendance of the rights-based ethic over the utilitarian o n e , due in
large part to the powerful influence of J o h n R a w l s ' A Theory of
Justice. In the debate between utilitarian and rights-based theories,
the rights-based ethic has come to prevail. The legal philosopher
H. L. A. Hart recently described the shift from 'the old faith that
some form of utilitarianism must capture the essence of political
morality' to the new faith that 'the truth must lie with a doctrine of
Introduction 5
basic h u m a n rights, protecting specific basic liberties and interests
of individuals. . . . W h e r e a s n o t so long ago great energy and much
ingenuity of m a n y p h i l o s o p h e r s were devoted to making some form
of utilitarianism w o r k , latterly such energies and ingenuity have
4
been devoted to t h e articulation of theories of basic r i g h t s . '
But in p h i l o s o p h y as in life, the new faith becomes the old
o r t h o d o x y before long. Even as it has come to prevail over its
utilitarian rival, t h e rights-based ethic has recently faced a growing
challenge from a different direction, from a view that gives fuller
expression to the claims of citizenship a n d community than the
liberal vision allows. Recalling the arguments of Hegel against
Kant, the c o m m u n i t a r i a n critics of modern liberalism question the
claim for the priority of the right over the good, and the picture of
the freely-choosing individual it embodies. Following Aristotle,
they argue t h a t w e c a n n o t justify political arrangements without
reference t o c o m m o n p u r p o s e s a n d ends, and that we cannot
conceive o u r p e r s o n h o o d w i t h o u t reference to our role as citizens,
and as p a r t i c i p a n t s in a c o m m o n life.
This debate reflects t w o contrasting pictures of the self. The rights-
based ethic, a n d the conception of the person it embodies, were
shaped in large p a r t in the e n c o u n t e r with utilitarianism. Where
utilitarians conflate o u r m a n y desires into a single system of desire,
Kantians insist on t h e separateness of persons. Where the utilitarian
self is simply defined as the s u m of its desires, the Kantian self is a
choosing self, i n d e p e n d e n t of the desires a n d ends it m a y have at
any m o m e n t . As R a w l s writes: ' T h e self is prior to the ends which
are affirmed by it; even a d o m i n a n t end must be chosen from
5
a m o n g n u m e r o u s possibilities.'
T h e priority of the self over its ends means I am never defined by
my aims a n d a t t a c h m e n t s , b u t always capable of standing back to
survey a n d assess a n d possibly to revise them. This is w h a t is means
to be a free a n d i n d e p e n d e n t self, capable of choice. And this is the
vision of the self t h a t finds expression in the ideal of the state as a
neutral f r a m e w o r k . O n the rights-based ethic, it is precisely because
we are essentially s e p a r a t e , independent selves that w e need a
neutral f r a m e w o r k , a f r a m e w o r k of rights that refuses to choose
a m o n g c o m p e t i n g p u r p o s e s a n d ends. If the self is prior to its ends,
then t h e right m u s t be prior t o the good.
C o m m u n i t a r i a n critics of rights-based liberalism say we cannot
conceive ourselves as i n d e p e n d e n t in this w a y , as bearers of selves
wholly d e t a c h e d from o u r aims a n d attachments. They say that
certain of o u r roles are partly constitutive of the persons we are - as
citizens of a c o u n t r y , o r m e m b e r s of a movement, or partisans of a
6 Introduction
cause. But if we are partly defined by the communities we inhabit,
then we must also be implicated in the purposes and ends
characteristic of those communities. As Alasdair M a c l n t y r e writes:
'what is good for me has to be the good for one w h o inhabits these
6
roles.' Open-ended though it be, the story of my life is always
embedded in the story of those communities from which I derive
my identity - whether family or city, tribe or nation, party or cause.
O n the communitarian view, these stories m a k e a moral difference,
not only a psychological one. They situate us in the w o r l d , a n d give
our lives their moral particularity.
What is at stake for politics in the debate between u n e n c u m
bered selves and situated ones? W h a t are the practical differences
between a politics of rights and a politics of the c o m m o n good? O n
some issues, the two theories may produce different a r g u m e n t s for
similar policies. For example, the civil rights m o v e m e n t of the
1960s might be justified by liberals in the n a m e of h u m a n dignity
and respect for persons, and by communitarians in the n a m e
of recognizing the full membership of fellow citizens wrongly
excluded from the c o m m o n life of the nation. And where liberals
might support public education in hopes.of equipping students to
become a u t o n o m o u s individuals, capable of choosing their o w n
ends and pursuing them effectively, communitarians might s u p p o r t
public education in hopes of equipping students t o b e c o m e good
citizens, capable of contributing meaningfully t o public delibera
tions and pursuits.
On other issues, the t w o ethics might lead to different policies.
Communitarians w o u l d be m o r e likely than liberals t o allow a
town to ban pornographic bookstores, on the g r o u n d s that
pornography offends its way of life and the values that sustain it.
But a politics of civic virtue does n o t always part c o m p a n y with
liberalism in favour of conservative policies. For e x a m p l e , com
munitarians w o u l d be more willing t h a n some rights-oriented
liberals to see states enact laws regulating plant closings, to protect
their communities from the disruptive effects of capital mobility
and sudden industrial change. M o r e generally, w h e r e the liberal
regards the expansion of individual rights a n d entitlements as
unqualified moral and political progress, the c o m m u n i t a r i a n is
troubled by the tendency of liberal p r o g r a m m e s t o displace politics
from smaller forms of a s s o c i a t i o r T ' t o m o r e comprehensive ones.
Where libertarian liberals defend the private economy a n d egali
tarian liberals defend the welfare state, c o m m u n i t a r i a n s w o r r y
about the concentration of power in both the corporate e c o n o m y
a n d the bureaucratic state, and the erosion of those intermediate
Introduction 7
forms of c o m m u n i t y t h a t have at times sustained a more vital
public life.
Liberals often a r g u e t h a t a politics of the c o m m o n good, and the
moral particularity it affirms, open the way to prejudice and
intolerance. T h e m o d e r n nation-state is not the Athenian polis, they
point o u t ; the scale a n d diversity of m o d e r n life have rendered the
Aristotelian political ethic nostalgic at best and dangerous at worst.
Any a t t e m p t to govern by a vision of the g o o d is likely to lead to a
slippery slope of t o t a l i t a r i a n t e m p t a t i o n s .
C o m m u n i t a r i a n s reply t h a t intolerance flourishes most where
forms of life are dislocated, roots unsettled, traditions undone. In
o u r d a y , the t o t a l i t a r i a n impulse has sprung less from the convic
tions of confidently situated selves than from the confusions of
atomized, dislocated, frustrated selves, at sea in a world where
c o m m o n m e a n i n g s h a v e lost their force. As H a n n a h Arendt has
written: ' W h a t m a k e s mass society so difficult to bear is not the
n u m b e r of p e o p l e involved, or at least not primarily, but the fact
that the w o r l d b e t w e e n t h e m has lost its power to gather them
7
together, t o relate a n d t o separate t h e m . ' Insofar as our public life
has w i t h e r e d , o u r sense of c o m m o n involvement diminished, to that
extent w e lie v u l n e r a b l e to the mass politics of totalitarian
solutions. So r e s p o n d s the p a r t y of the c o m m o n good to the party
of rights. If the p a r t y of the c o m m o n good is right, our most
pressing m o r a l a n d political project is to revitalize those civic
republican possibilities implicit in our tradition but fading in our
time.
The writings collected in this volume present leading statements of

rights-based liberalism a n d s o m e examples of the communitarian,
or republican alternatives to that position. The principle of
selection h a s been t o shift the focus from the familiar debate
between utilitarians a n d K a n t i a n liberals - a debate n o w largely
decided - in o r d e r t o consider a m o r e powerful challenge to the
rights-based ethic, the o n e indebted, broadly speaking, to Aristotle,
Hegel, a n d the civic r e p u b l i c a n tradition.
In ' T w o C o n c e p t s of Liberty', p e r h a p s the most influential essay
of p o s t - w a r political theory, Isaiah Berlin gives vigorous expression
to a powerful s t r a n d of m o d e r n liberalism. It is the claim for the
ultimate plurality of h u m a n values, a n d the impossibility ever
finally of reconciling t h e m .
T h e w o r l d t h a t w e e n c o u n t e r in ordinary experience is one

in w h i c h w e are faced with choices between ends equally
g ) Introduction
ultimate, and claims equally absolute, the realization of some
of which must inevitably involve the sacrifice of o t h e r s .
Indeed, it is because this is their situation that men place such
immense value upon the freedom t o choose; for if they h a d
assurance that in some perfect state, realizable by men o n
earth, no ends pursued by them w o u l d ever be in conflict, the
necessity and agony of choice would disappear, and w i t h it
the central importance of the freedom to choose.
In view of the ultimate plurality of ends, Berlin concludes,

freedom of choice is 'a truer and more h u m a n e ideal' than the
alternatives. And he quotes with approval the view of J o s e p h
Schumpeter that 'to realise the relative validity of one's convictions,
and yet stand for them unflinchingly, is w h a t distinguishes
a civilised man from a barbarian.' Although Berlin is not strictly
speaking a relativist - he affirms the ideal of freedom of choice -
his position comes perilously close to foundering on the relativist
predicament. If one's convictions are only relatively valid, w h y
(
stand for them unflinchingly? In a tragically-configured m o r a l
universe, such as Berlin assumes, is the ideal of freedom any less
subject than competing ideals to the ultimate incommensurability
of values? If so, in what can its privileged status consist? A n d if
freedom has n o morally privileged status, if it is just o n e value
among many, then w h a t can be said for l i b e r a l i s m ^
John Rawls' A Theory of Justice, the major text of c o n t e m p o r a r y
liberal political philosophy, proposes a w a y of acknowledging a
plurality of ends while affirming nonetheless a regulative frame
work of liberties and rights. H e w o u l d avoid the self-refuting
tendency of liberal theories by deriving principles of justice in a w a y
that does not presuppose any particular conception of the g o o d .
These principles specify basic rights a n d liberties, but, o w i n g to the
design of the 'original position', d o n o t choose in advance a m o n g
competing purposes and ends. The excerpts of his w o r k presented
here do not concern such widely-discussed topics as the original
position and the difference principle, but focus instead on the
structure of his theory, and in particular on his claim for the
priority of the right over the good, and for the conception of the self
that this entails. These are the aspects of his theory most character
istic of Kantian liberalism and most sharply o p p o s e d t o the
Aristotelian tradition and other teleological conceptions.
The selections by Ronald D w o r k i n , Friedrich Hayek, and R o b e r t
Nozick illustrate the similarities and differences within rights-based
liberalism. Whereas Rawls a n d D w o r k i n advocate certain welfare
Introduction 9
rights t h a t H a y e k a n d Nozick oppose, all argue in the name of
rights which d o n o t rely on n o t i o n s of moral merit or virtue, or an
intrinsic h u m a n g o o d . D w o r k i n , sympathetic to the welfare state,
holds that ' g o v e r n m e n t must be neutral' on the question of the
good life, t h a t political decisions must be 'independent of any
particular conception of the g o o d life, or of w h a t gives value to life'
(p. 64). A n d N o z i c k , arguing for a minimal state, holds that
government must be 'scrupulously neutral between its citizens'
(p. 105). A l t h o u g h H a y e k a n d Nozick oppose the redistributive
policies favoured by R a w l s , all reject the idea that income and
wealth s h o u l d be distributed according to moral merit or desert.
For R a w l s , basing entitlements on merit or desert or virtue would
put the g o o d before the right; in order to preserve the priority of
right, he bases entitlements on 'legitimate expectations' instead. For
Hayek a n d N o z i c k , tying entitlements to merit or desert would
undercut people's freedom to barter a n d trade as they choose, and
to reap t h e benefits of their exchanges. All p u t primary emphasis on
what R a w l s calls ' t h e distinction between persons', and Nozick
terms 'the fact of o u r s e p a r a t e existences'.
O n e reason liberals are reluctant to tie people's entitlements to
their merit o r desert or virtue is that, on the liberal conception of
the person, the qualities t h a t distinguish people as meritorious or
deserving or v i r t u o u s are n o t essential constituents but only
contingent attributes of the self. As Rawls argues, the endowments
and o p p o r t u n i t i e s t h a t lead to good character and conscientious
effort are ' a r b i t r a r y from a moral point of view' (p. 45). On the
liberal view, the self is prior to its ends - this assures its capacity to
choose it ends - a n d also prior to its roles and dispositions - this
assures its i n d e p e n d e n c e from social conventions, and hence its
separateness of p e r s o n , its individuality.
T h e writings by Alasdair M a c l n t y r e , Peter Berger, and Michael
Sandel challenge t h e liberal view by calling into question the picture
of the self t h a t it implies. In contrast to the liberal's unencumbered
self, M a c l n t y r e p r o p o s e s a narrative conception of the self, a self
constituted in p a r t by a life story with a certain telos, or point. As
the telos is n o t fixed o r fully identifiable in advance, the unity of a
life is t h e unity of a n a r r a t i v e quest, a quest whose object is a fuller
and m o r e a d e q u a t e g r a s p of a g o o d only intimated at the outset. On
the narrative view, my identity is not independent of my aims and
a t t a c h m e n t s , b u t partly constituted by them; I am situated from the
start, e m b e d d e d in a history which locates m e a m o n g others, and
implicates m y g o o d in t h e g o o d of the communities whose stories 1
share.
10 Introduction
Berger offers an illuminating contrast between the concepts of
honour and dignity, which corresponds to the contrast between
situated selves and unencumbered ones. T h e concept of
honour implies that identity is essentially linked to social
roles, he points out, while the concept of dignity, m o r e familiar
in the liberal ethic, implies that identity is essentially indepen
dent of such roles. In the passage entitled 'Justice a n d the
Good', I try to argue, along similar lines, that the u n e n c u m b e r e d
self presupposed by rights-based liberalism c a n n o t adequately
account for such notions as character, self-knowledge, and
friendship.
The writings by Charles Taylor, Michael Walzer, a n d Michael
Oakeshott illustrate the consequences for political discourse of
assuming situated selves rather than unencumbered selves. In
different ways, each sees political discourse as proceeding within
the common meanings and traditions of a political c o m m u n i t y , not
appealing to a critical standpoint wholly external to those mean
ings. Taylor identifies Hegel's critique of Kantian liberalism with
1
Hegel's distinction between 'Sittlichkeif and Moralitat'. Sittlich-
keit, or 'ethical life', refers to norms embodied in a c o m m u n i t y , and
describes my obligation qua participant to realize moral possibili
ties already there, implicit in a way of life. Moralitat, by contrast,
refers to abstract principles as yet unrealized in a c o m m u n i t y ,
available to us qua individuals standing in radical opposition to
community. As Taylor explains, Hegel runs counter t o the moral
instinct of liberalism by holding that not Moralitat but Sittlichkeit
is the highest moral aspiration; h u m a n freedom can only be
achieved in a realized Sittlichkeit, an ethical political c o m m u n i t y
that expresses the identity of its members.
Walzer, a democratic socialist, and O a k e s h o t t , a traditional
conservative, both conceive moral reasoning as an appeal to
meanings internal to a political c o m m u n i t y , n o t an appeal to
abstract principles. For Walzer, unlike Rawls, the case for the
welfare state begins with a theory of membership, not rights.
Welfare rights are fixed only when a community adopts some

program of mutual provision. There are strong arguments to
be made that, under given historical conditions, such-
and-such a program should be adopted. But these are not
arguments a b o u t individual rights; they are arguments a b o u t
the character of a particular political community (p. 204).
Introduction 11
Similarly for O a k c s h o t t , political traditions.
c o m p o s e a p a t t e r n a n d at the same time they intimate a

s y m p a t h y for w h a t does not fully appear. Political activity is
the e x p l o r a t i o n of t h a t s y m p a t h y ; and consequently, relevant
political reasoning will be the convincing exposure of a
s y m p a t h y , present b u t not yet followed up, and the convin
cing d e m o n s t r a t i o n t h a t n o w is the appropriate moment for
recognizing it. . . . In politics, then, every enterprise is a
consequential enterprise, the pursuit, not of a dream, or of a
general principle, b u t of an intimation (p. 229).
Finally, H a n n a h A r c n d t considers h o w the framers of the

American constitution might have embodied freedom in what she
regards as the only institution capable of sustaining it, the ward or
council system. She concludes that the Western democracies have
managed to represent interests but not to cultivate citizenship; they
protect civil liberties b u t have not secured freedom in the republi
can sense of a shared public life.
NOTES
1 Mill, On Liberty, ch. J.

2 See Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals (1785); and "On
the Common Saying: "This May be True In Theory, But It Does Not
Apply in Practice'."' (1793).
3 Rawls, A Theory of justice (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971),
pp. 3-4. '
4 Hart, 'Between Utility and Rights', in Alan Ryan (ed.) The Idea of
Freedom (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979), p. 77.
5 Rawls, A Theory of justice, p. 560.
6 Maclntyre, After Virtue (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press,
1981), p. 205.
7 Arendt, The Human Condition (Chicago: University of Chicago I ress,
1958), pp. 5 2 - 3 .
PARTI
1
Isaiah Berlin:
51
Two Concepts of Liberty "
T o coerce a m a n is to deprive him of freedom - freedom from

w h a t ? Almost every moralist in h u m a n history has praised freedom.
Like happiness and goodness, like nature and reality, the meaning
of this term is so p o r o u s that there is little interpretation that it
seems able to resist. I d o not propose to discuss either the history or
the m o r e than t w o h u n d r e d senses of this protean w o r d recorded by
historians of ideas. I p r o p o s e t o examine n o more t h a n t w o of the
senses — but those central ones, with a great deal of h u m a n history
behind them, a n d , 1 dare say, still to come. The first of these
political senses of freedom or liberty (I shall use b o t h w o r d s to
mean the same), which (following much precedent) I shall call the
'neâtive^sense, is involved in the answer to the question ' W h a t is
Tflearea within which the subject - a person or group of persons —
is or should be left t o d o or be w h a t he is able to do or be, w i t h o u t
interference by o t h e r p e r s o n s ? ' The second, which I shall call the
positive sense, is involved in the answer to the question ' W h a t , or
w h o ~ i s the source of control or interference that can determine
s o m e o n e to d o , o r be, this rather than t h a t ? ' T h e t w o questions are
clearly different, even t h o u g h the answers to them may overlap.
-
THE NOTION OF "NEGATIVE FREEDOM
I a m normally said to be free to the degree to which n o m a n or b o d y

of m e n interferes w i t h my activity. Political liberty in this sense is
* © Oxford University Press 1969. Reprinted from Four Essays on

Liberty, by Sir Isaiah Berlin (1969), by permission of Oxford University
Press.
16 Two Concepts of Liberty
simply the area within which a m a n can act unobstructed b y o t h e r s .
If I am prevented by others from doing w h a t I could otherwise d o , 1
am to that degree unfree; and if this area is contracted b y other men
beyond a certain minimum, 1 can be described as being coerced, or,
it may be, enslaved. Coercion is not, however, a term that covers
every form of inability. If 1 say that I am unable to jump m o r e t h a n
ten feet in the air, or cannot read because I am blind, or c a n n o t
understand the darker pages of Hegel, it would be eccentric to say
x that 1 am to that degree enslaved or coerced. Coercion implies the
' deliberate interference of other h u m a n beings within the area in
which I could otherwise act. Y o ^ j a c k political liberty or freedom
only if you are prevented from attaining a goal by h u m a n beings.
2
Mere incapacity to attain a goal is not lack of political f r e e d o m .
This is brought out by the use of such modern expressions as
'economic freedom' and its counterpart, 'economic slavery'. It is
argued, very plausibly, that if a man is too poor to afford something
on which there is no legal ban - a loaf of bread, a journey r o u n d the
world, recourse to the law courts — he is as little free to h a v e it as he
would be if it were forbidden him by law. If my poverty were a kind
of disease, which prevented me from buying bread, or paying for
the journey round the world or getting my case heard, as lameness
prevents me from running, this inability would not natutally be
described as a lack of freedom, least of all political freedom. It is
only because I believe that my inability to get a given thing is d u e t o
the fact that other h u m a n beings have made arrangements w h e r e b y
I am, whereas others are not, prevented from having enough m o n e y
with which to pay for it, that I think myself a victim of coercion or
slavery. In other words, this use of the term depends on a particular
social and economic theory about the causes of my poverty or
weakness. If my lack of material means is due t o my lack of mental
or physical capacity, then I begin to speak of being deprived of
freedom (and not simply about poverty) only if I accept the t h e o r y . '
If, in addition, I believe that I am being kept in w a n t by a specific
arrangement which 1 consider unjust or unfair, I speak of e c o n o m i c
slavery or oppression. T h e nature of things does not m a d d e n us,
only ill will does', said Rousseau. T h e criterion of oppression is the
part t h a t I believe to be played by other h u m a n beings, directly or
indirectly, with or without the intention of doing so, in frustrating
m v
! wishes. By_bemgjn;e i n this.sen.se..! mean n o j b e i n g j n t e T f e j r e . d
L
i with by others.TJbe w i d e r the area of non-intcrferenc* "thVwitkr J i i y

i freedom.
! This is what the classical English political philosophers m e a n t
w h e n t h e u s e d t h i s 4
\ y w o r d . They disagreed a b o u t h o w wide the
Isaiah Berlin 17
area could or s h o u l d be. They supposed t h a t it could not, as things
were, be unlimited, because if it were, it would entail a state in
which all men could boundlessly interfere with all other men; and
this k i n d of ' n a t u r a l ' freedom w o u l d lead to social chaos in which
m e n ' s m i n i m u m needs w o u l d n o t be satisfied; or else the liberties
of the w e a k w o u l d be suppressed by the strong. Because they
perceived that h u m a n p u r p o s e s and activities d o not automatically
h a r m o n i z e with o n e a n o t h e r , and because (whatever their official
doctrines) they p u t high value on other goals, such as justice, or
happiness, or culture, or security, or varying degrees of equality,
they w e r e p r e p a r e d to curtail freedom in the interests of other
values a n d , indeed, of ffeectom itself. For, without this, it was
impossible to create the kind of association that they thought
desirable. C o n s e q u e n t l y , it is assumed by these thinkers that the
area of m e n ' s free action must be limited by law. But equally it is
assumed, especially by such libertarians as Locke and. Mill in
England, a n d C o n s t a n t and Tocqueville in France, that there ought
to exist a certain m i n i m u m area of personal freedom which must on
n o a c c o u n t be violated; for if it is overstepped, the individual will
find himself in an area t o o n a r r o w for even that minimum
d e v e l o p m e n t of his n a t u r a l faculties which alone makes it possible
to p u r s u e , and even to conceive, the various ends which men hold
g o o d or right or sacred. It follows t h a t a.frontier must be d r a w n f
b e t w e e n the area of private life and that of public authority. Where :
it is t o be d r a w n is a matter of argument, indeed of haggling. M e n
are largely i n t e r d e p e n d e n t , a n d n o m a n ' s activity is so completely
private as never t o o b s t r u c t the lives of others in any way. 'Freedom
for the pike is death for the m i n n o w s ' ; the liberty of some must
depend on the restraint of others. 'Freedom for an Oxford d o n ' ,
others have been k n o w n to a d d , 'is a very different thing from
freedom for an Egyptian p e a s a n t . '
This p r o p o s i t i o n derives its force from something that is both
true a n d i m p o r t a n t , b u t the p h r a s e itself remains a piece of political
c l a p t r a p . It is true t h a t to offer political rights, or safeguards against
intervention by the state, to men w h o are half-naked, illiterate,
underfed, a n d diseased is to mock their condition; they need
medical help or e d u c a t i o n before they can u n d e r s t a n d , or make use
of, an increase in their freedom. W h a t is freedom to those w h o
c a n n o t m a k e use of it? W i t h o u t a d e q u a t e conditions for the use of
freedom, w h a t is the value of freedom? First things come first: there
are situations, as a nineteenth-century Russian radical writer
declared, in w h i c h b o o t s are superior t o the w o r k s of Shakespeare;
individual freedom is n o t everyone's primary need. For freedom is
not the mere absence of frustration of w h a t e v e r kind; this would
inflate the meaning of the word until it m e a n t t o o much or too little.
The Egyptian peasant needs clothes or medicine before, and more
than, personal liberty, but the m i n i m u m freedom t h a t he needs
today, and the greater degree of freedom that he may need
tomorrow, is not some species of freedom peculiar to him, but
identical with that of professors, artists, a n d millionaires.
What troubles the consciences of Western liberals is not, 1 think,
the belief that the freedom that men seek differs according to their
social or economic conditions, but t h a t the minority w h o possess it
have gained it by exploiting, or, at least, averting their gaze from,
the vast majority w h o do not. They believe, with good reason, that
if jndividual liberty is a n ultimate end for h u m a n beings, none
sJiQuld be deprived of it by others; least of all that some should
enjoy it at the expense of others. Equality of liberty; not to treat
others as 1 should not wish them to treat m e ; r e p a y m e n t of my debt
to those w h o alone have made possible my liberty or prosperity or
enlightenment; justice, in its simplest and most universal sense -
these are t h e i o u n d a t i o n s of liberal fnorality. Liberty is not the only
m e n 1
-SS^l?* - can, like "the Russian critic Belinsky, say that if others
are to be deprived of it - if my b r o t h e r s are t o remain in poverty,
squalor, and chains - then 1 do not w a n t it for myself, 1 reject it
with both hands and infinitely prefer to share their fate. But nothing
is gained by a confusion of terms. T o avoid glaring inequality or
widespread misery 1 am ready to sacrifice s o m e , or all, of my
freedom: 1 may do so willingly and freely: but it is freedom that 1 am
giving up for the sake of justice or equality or the love of my fellow
men. I should be guilt-stricken, and rightly so, if 1 were not, in some
circumstances, ready to m a k e this sacrifice. But a sacrifice is not an
increase in what is being sacrificed, namely freedom, however great
the moral need or the compensation for it. Everything is w h a t it is:
hjjerty is hberty, not equality or fairness o r justice or culture, or
i W m ^ L S j ^ I n e s s , OJLa .quiet conscience. If the liberty of myself or
! my class or nation depends on the misery of a n u m b e r of other
; human beings, the system which p r o m o t e s this is unjust and
H u m o r a l . But if I curtail or lose my freedom, in o r d e r to lessen the
shame of such inequality, and d o n o t thereby materially increase
the individual liberty of others, an a b s o l u t e loss of liberty occurs.
ihis may be compensated for by a gain in justice or in happiness or
in peace, but the loss remains, a n d it is a confusion of values to say
tnat although my 'liberal', individual freedom m a y g o by the board,
some other kind of freedom - 'social' or ' e c o n o m i c ' - is increased.
l e t it remains true that the freedom of s o m e must at times be
Isaiah Berlin 19
curtailed t o secure the freedom of others. Upon w h a t principle
should this be d o n e ? If freedom is a sacred, untouchable value,
there can be n o such principle. O n e or other of these conflicting
rules or principles m u s t , at any rate in practice, yield: not always
for r e a s o n s which can be clearly stated, let alone generalized into
rules or universal m a x i m s . Still, a practical compromise has to be
found.
Philosophers with an optimistic view of h u m a n nature and a
belief in the possibility of h a r m o n i z i n g h u m a n interests, such as
Locke o r A d a m Smith and, in some m o o d s , Mill, believed that
social h a r m o n y a n d progress were compatible with reserving a
large area for private life over which neither the state nor any other
authority must be allowed to trespass. H o b b e s , and those w h o
agreed with him, especially conservative or reactionary thinkers,
argued t h a t if men were to be prevented from destroying one
a n o t h e r and m a k i n g social life a jungle or a wilderness, greater
safeguards must be instituted to keep t h e m in their places; he
wished correspondingly to increase the area of centralized control
and decrease that of the individual. But both sides agreed that some
p o r t i o n of h u m a n existence must remain independent of the sphere
of social control. T o invade t h a t preserve, however small, w o u l d be
despotism. T h e most e l o q u e n t of all defenders of freedom and
privacy, Benjamin C o n s t a n t , w h o h a d not forgotten the Jacobin
d i c t a t o r s h i p , declared that at the very least the liberty of religion,
opinion, expression, p r o p e r t y , m u s t be guaranteed against arbitrary
invasion. Jefferson, Burke, Paine, Mill, compiled different cata
logues of individual liberties, but the argument for keeping
a u t h o r i t y at bay is always substantially the same. We must preserve
a m i n i m u m area of personal freedom if we are not to 'degrade or
deny o u r n a t u r e ' . W e c a n n o t remain absolutely free, and must give
u p s o m e of o u r liberty to preserve the rest. But total self-surrender
is self-defeating. W h a t then m u s t be the m i n i m u m be? T h a t which a
m a n c a n n o t give u p w i t h o u t offending against the essence of his
h u m a n n a t u r e . W h a t is this essence? W h a t are the standards which
it entails? This has been, a n d p e r h a p s always will be, a matter of
infinite d e b a t e . But w h a t e v e r the principle in terms of which the
area of non-interference is to be d r a w n , whether it is that of natural
law o r n a t u r a l rights, or of utility or the p r o n o u n c e m e n t s of a
categorical imperative, or the sanctity of the social contract, or any
other concept with which men have sought to clarify and justify
their convictions, liberty in this sense m e a n s liberty from; absence
•of interference beyooc)L.ihe. jhiftiag*. but ajways recognizable ?
frontier. ' T h e only freedom which deserves the n a m e is tnat of

pursuing our o w n good in our o w n w a y ' , said the most celebrated
of its champions. If this is so, is compulsion ever justified? Mill had
no doubt that it was. Since justice d e m a n d s t h a t all individuals be
entitled to a minimum of freedom, all other individuals were of
necessity to be restrained, if need be by force, from depriving
anyone of it. Indeed, the whole function of law w a s the prevention
of just such collisions: the state w a s reduced to what_Lassalle
contemptuously described as the functions of a n i g h t w a t c h m a n or
traffic policeman.
What made thejirotection of individual liberty so sacred to Mill?
In his famous essay he declares t h a t , unless men are left to live as
they wish 'in the path which merely concerns themselves', civiliza
tion cannot advance; the truth will not, for lack of a free m a r k e t
in ideas, come to light; there will be n o scope for spontaneity,
originality, genius, for mental energy, for m o r a l c o u r a g e . Society
will be crushed by the weight of 'collective mediocrity'. Whatever
is rich and diversified will be crushed by the weight of custom,
by men's constant tendency to conformity, which breeds only
'withered capacities', 'pinched and h i d e b o u n d ' , ' c r a m p e d and
warped' h u m a n beings. 'Pagan self-assertion is as w o r t h y as
Christian self-denial'. 'All the errors which a man is likely to
commit against advice and warning are far o u t w e i g h e d by the evil
of allowing others to constrain him to w h a t they deem is g o o d . ' The
defence of liberty consists in the 'negative' goal of w a r d i n g off
.interference. T o threaten a man with persecution unless he submits
to a life in which he exercises n o choices of his goals; t o block
before him every d o o r but one, n o m a t t e r h o w noble the prospect
upon which it opens, or h o w benevolent the motives of those w h o
arrange this, is to sin against the truth t h a t he is a m a n , a being with
a life of his o w n to live. This is liberty as it has been conceived by
^liberals in the modern "world from the days of E r a s m u s (some
would say of Occam) to o u r o w n . Every plea for civil liberties and
individual rights, every protest against exploitation a n d humilia
tion, against the encroachment of public a u t h o r i t y , or the mass
hypnosis of custom or organized p r o p a g a n d a , springs from this
individualistic, and much disputed, conception of m a n .
r e e a c t s a b o u t t n i s
* \/i 1 1 T / position m a y be n o t e d . In the first place
i Mill confuses t w o distinct notions. O n e is t h a t all coercion is, in so
tar as it frustrates h u m a n desires, b a d as such, a l t h o u g h it m a y have
to be applied to prevent other, greater evils; while non-interference,
which is the opposite of coercion, is g o o d as such, a l t h o u g h it is not
the only good. This is the.jngâtLv^-coneeption of liberty in its
classical form. T h e otKe? is t h a t m e n should seek-toTifcCOvtf
Isaiah Berlin 21
the truth, or to develop a certain type of character of which
Mill a p p r o v e d - critical, original, imaginative, independent, non
conforming to the p o i n t of eccentricity, and so on - and that truth
can be found, a n d such character can be bred, only in conditions of
freedom. Both these a r e liberal views, but they are not identical,
and the connection between them is, at best, empirical. N o one
w o u l d argue t h a t t r u t h or freedom of self-expression could flourish
where d o g m a crushes all t h o u g h t . But the evidence of history tends
to show (as, indeed, w a s argued by fames Stephen in his formidable
attack o n Mill in his Liberty, Equality, Fraternity) that integrity,
love of t r u t h , and fiery individualism g r o w at least as often in
severely disciplined c o m m u n i t i e s a m o n g , for example, the puritan
Calvinists of Scotland or N e w England, or under military disci
pline, as in m o r e tolerant or indifferent societies; and if this is so,
Mill's a r g u m e n t for liberty as a necessary condition for the growth
of h u m a n genius falls to the g r o u n d . If his t w o goals proved
incompatible, Mill w o u l d be faced with a cruel dilemma, quite
apart from the futher difficulties created by the inconsistency of his
doctrines with strict utilitarianism, even in his o w n h u m a n e version
5
of i t .
In the second place, the doctrine is comparatively modern. There
seems t o be scarcely any discussion of individual liberty as a
conscious political ideal (as o p p o s e d to its actual existence) in the
ancient w o r l d . C o n d o r c e t h a d already r e m a r k e d that the notion of
individual rights was a b s e n t from the legal conceptions of the
J S m a n s a n d G r e e k s ; this seems to hold equally of the Jewish,
Chinese, a n d all o t h e r ancient civilizations that have since come to
6
light. T h e d o m i n a t i o n of this ideal has been the exception rather
than the rule, even in the recent history of the West. N o r has liberty
in this sense often formed a rallying cry for the great masses of
m a n k i n d . T h e desire n o t to be impinged u p o n , to be left to oneself,
has been a m a r k of high civilization both on the part of individuals
and c o m m u n i t i e s . T h e sense of privacy itself, of the area of personal
relationships as s o m e t h i n g sacred in its o w n right, derives from a
conception of freedom which, for all its religious roots, is scarcely
older, in its d e v e l o p e d state, t h a n the Renaissance or the Reforma
7
t i o n . Yet its decline w o u l d m a r k the death of a civilization, of an
entire m o r a l o u t l o o k .
T h e third characteristic of this notion of liberty is of greater
i m p o r t a n c e . J L i s . t h a t liberty in this sense is n o t incompatible with
some k i n d s of a u t o c r a c y , or at any rate with the absence of self-
g o v e r n m e n t . . Liberty In this sense is principally concerned with the
a r e T o T c o n t r o l , n o t with its source. Just as a democracy may, in
fact, deprive the individual citizen of a great m a n y liberties which
he might have in some other form of society, so it is perfectly
conceivable that a liberal-minded despot w o u l d allow his subjects a
large measure of personal freedom. The despot w h o leaves his
subjects a wide area of liberty may be unjust, or e n c o u r a g e the
wildest inequalities, care little for order, or virtue, or k n o w l e d g e ;
but provided he does not curb their liberty, or at least curbs it less
than many other regimes, he meets with Mill's specification.
Freedom in this sense is not, at any rate logically, connected with
democracy or self-government. Self-government m a y , on the whole,
provide a better guarantee of the preservation of civil liberties than
other regimes, and has been defended as such by libertarians. But
there is no necessary connection between individual liberty and
democratic rule. The answer to the question ' W h o governs me?' is
logically distinct from the question ' H o w far does government
interfere with me?' It is in this difference that the great contrast
between the two concepts of negative and positive liberty, in the
9
-end, consists. For the 'positive' sense of liberty comes to light if we
try to answer the question, not ' W h a t am I free to d o or b e ? ' , but
'By whom am I ruled?' or ' W h o is to say what I a m , and w h a t I am
-nat, to be or do?' the connection between d e m o c r a c y and indi
vidual liberty is a gobd deal more t e n u o u s t h a n it seemed t o many
advocates of both. The desire to be governed by myself, or at any
rate to participate in the process by which my life is t o be
controlled, may be as deep a wish as t h a t of a free area for action,
and perhaps historically older. But it is not a desire for the same
thing. So different is it, indeed, as to have led in the end t o the great
l a s h o f
\ f O o l o g i e s that dominates o u r world. For it is this - the
\ /positive' conception of liberty: not freedom from, but freedom to -
\ t o J e a d j ? n e prescribed form of life - which the a d h e r e n t s of the
negative' notion represent as being, at times, n o better than a
specious disguise for brutal tyranny.
II
THE N O T I O N OF POSITIVE F R E E D O M
t o
d^S4^-^»«L
c
b e h i s o w n m a
^ e r . I wish my life and.
^ l^-tauiepô _ ^^ n m B 5 : i x l e r n a l T c T r ^ s of whatever
Isaiah Berlin 23
J d n d . 1 wish to be the i n s t r u m e n t of my o w n , not of other men's,
acts of will. I wish t o be a subject, n o t an object; to be moved by
reasons, by conscious p u r p o s e s , which are my o w n , n o t by causes
which affect m e , as it w e r e , from outside. 1 wish to be somebody,
not n o b o d y ; a d o e r - deciding, n o t being decided for, self-directed
and n o t acted u p o n by external nature or by other men as if I were a
thing, o r an a n i m a l , or a slave incapable of playing a h u m a n role,
that is, of conceiving goals a n d policies of my own and realizing
them. This is at least p a r t of w h a t 1 mean when I say that 1 am
rational, a n d t h a t it is my reason that distinguishes me as a h u m a n
being from the rest of the world. I wish, above all, to be conscious
of myself as a thinking, willing, active being, bearing responsibility
for m y choices a n d able t o explain t h e m by references to my o w n
ideas a n d p u r p o s e s . I feel free to the degree that I believe this to be
true, a n d enslaved to the degree t h a t 1 a m m a d e to realize that it is
not.
The freedom which consists in being one's own master, and the
freedom which consists in n o t being prevented from choosing as 1
do by o t h e r m e n , m a y , o n the face of it, seem concepts at no great
logical distance from each other - no m o r e than negative and
positive w a y s of saying m u c h the same thing. Yet the 'positive' and
'negative' n o t i o n s of freedom historically developed in divergent
directions n o t always by logically reputable steps, until, in the end,
they c a m e into direct conflict with each other.
O n e w a y of m a k i n g this clear is in terms of the independent
m o m e n t u m w h i c h t h e , initially p e r h a p s quite harmless, m e t a p h o r
of self-mastery a c q u i r e d . 'I a m my o w n master'; T a m slave to no
m a n ' ; b u t m a y I n o t (as Platonists or Hegelians tend to say) be a
slave to n a t u r e ? O r to my o w n 'unbridled' passions? Are these not
so m a n y species of the identical genus 'slave' - some political or
legal, o t h e r s m o r a l o r spiritual? H a v e n o t men h a d the experience
of liberating themselves from spiritual slavery, or slavery to nature,
and d o they n o t in t h e course of it become aware, on the one hand,
of a self which d o m i n a t e s , a n d , on the other, of something in them
which is b r o u g h t to heel? T h i s d o m i n a n t self is then variously
identified with r e a s o n , with m y 'higher n a t u r e ' , with the self which
calculates a n d aims at w h a t will satisfy it in the long run, with my
'real', or 'ideal', o r ' a u t o n o m o u s ' self, or with my self ' a t its best';
which is then c o n t r a s t e d with irrational impulse, uncontrolled
desires, m y ' l o w e r ' n a t u r e , the pursuit of immediate pleasures, my
'empirical' o r ' h e t e r o n o m o u s ' self, swept by every gust of desire a n d
passion, needing t o be rigidly disciplined if it is ever to rise to the
full height of its ' r e a l ' n a t u r e . Presently the t w o selves may be
represented as divided by an even larger g a p : the real self may be
conceived as something wider t h a n the individual (as the term is
normally u n d e r s t o o d ) , as a social ' w h o l e ' of which the individual is
an element o r aspect: a tribe, a race, a c h u r c h , a state, the great
society of t h e living a n d t h e d e a d a n d the yet u n b o r n . T h i s entity
is then identified as being the ' t r u e ' self w h i c h , by imposing its
collective, or ' o r g a n i c ' , single will u p o n its recalcitrant 'members',
achieves its o w n , a n d therefore their, ' h i g h e r ' freedom. T h e penis of
using organic m e t a p h o r s to justify the coercion of some men by
others in o r d e r to raise them to a ' h i g h e r ' level of freedom have
often been pointed o u t . But w h a t gives such plausibility as it has to
this kind of language is t h a t w e recognize t h a t it is possible, a n d at
times justifiable, to coerce men in the n a m e of s o m e goal (let us say,
justice or public health) which they w o u l d , if they w e r e more
enlightened, themselves p u r s u e , b u t d o n o t , because they are blind
or ignorant o r c o r r u p t . T h i s renders it easy for m e to conceive of
myself as coercing others for their o w n sake, in their, n o t my,
interest. I a m then claiming t h a t I k n o w w h a t they truly need better
t h a n they k n o w it themselves. W h a t , at m o s t , this entails is that
they w o u l d n o t resist me if they w e r e rational a n d as wise as 1 and
u n d e r s t o o d their interests as 1 d o . But I m a y g o o n to claim a good
deal more than this. 1 m a y declare t h a t they are actually aiming at
w h a t in their benighted state they consciously resist, because there
exists within them an occult entity - their latent rational will, or
their ' t r u e ' p u r p o s e - a n d that this entity, a l t h o u g h it is belied by all
that they overtly feel a n d d o a n d say, is their 'real' self, of which the
p o o r empirical self in space a n d time m a y k n o w n o t h i n g o r little;
and t h a t this inner spirit is the only self that deserves t o have its
10
wishes taken into a c c o u n t . O n c e 1 take this view, I a m in a
position to ignore the actual wishes of m e n o r societies, to bully,
oppress, torture them in the n a m e , a n d o n behalf, of their 'real'
selves, in the secure k n o w l e d g e t h a t w h a t e v e r is the true goal of
man (happiness, performance of d u t y , w i s d o m , a just society, self-
fulfilment) must be identical w i t h his freedom - t h e free choice of
s r u e a l b e i t o f t e n
'^ '' s u b m e r g e d a n d inarticulate, self.
This p a r a d o x has been often e x p o s e d . It is o n e thing to say that I
k n o w w h a t is good for X , while he himself does not; a n d even to
ignore his wishes for its - a n d his - s a k e ; a n d a very different one to
say that he has eo ipso chosen it, n o t indeed consciously, n o t as he
seems in everyday life, but in his role as a rational self w h i c h his
empirical self m a y n o t k n o w - t h e 'real' self w h i c h discerns the
good, a n d c a n n o t help choosing it once it is revealed. J J i i s
raonstrous impersonation, which consists in e q u a t i n g w h a t X "
Isaiah Berlin 25
would c h o o s e if he were something he is not, or at least_not_yer,
with w h a t X actually seeks a n d chooses, is at the heart of all
political theories of self-realization. It is one thing to say t h a t ! may
be coerced for my o w n good which 1 am too blind to see: this may,
on occasion, be for m y benefit; indeed it may enlarge the scope of ;
my liberty. It is a n o t h e r to say that if it is my good, then I am not '
being coerced, for I have willed it, whether I k n o w this or not, and i
am free (or 'truly' free) even while my p o o r earthly body and /
foolish mind bitterly reject it, a n d struggle against those w h o seek .'
however benevolently to impose it, with the greatest desperation.
This magical t r a n s f o r m a t i o n , or sleight of hand (for which
William J a m e s so justly m o c k e d the Hegelians), can no doubt be
perpetrated just as easily with the 'negative' concept of freedom,
where the self t h a t s h o u l d n o t be interfered with is no longer the
individual with his actual wishes a n d needs as they are normally
conceived, b u t the "real' m a n within, identified with the pursuit of
some ideal p u r p o s e n o t d r e a m e d of by his empirical self. And, as in
the case of the 'positively' free self, this entity may be inflated into
some s u p e r - p e r s o n a l entity - a state, a class, a nation, or the march
of history itself, regarded as a m o r e 'real' subject of attributes than
the empirical self. But the 'positive' conception of freedom as self-
mastery, with its suggestion of a m a n divided against himself, has,
in fact, a n d as a m a t t e r of history, of doctrine and of practice, lent
itself m o r e easily to this splitting or personality into t w o : the
t r a n s c e n d e n t , d o m i n a n t controller, a n d the empirical bundle of
desires a n d passions to be disciplined a n d brought to heel. It is this
historical fact t h a t has been influential. This demonstrates (if
d e m o n s t r a t i o n of so o b v i o u s a truth is needed) that conceptions of
freedom directly derive from views of w h a t constitutes a self, a
person, a m a n . E n o u g h manipulation with the definition of man,
and freedom can be m a d e to mean whatever the manipulator
wishes. R e c e n t history has m a d e it only t o o clear that the issue is
n o t merely a c a d e m i c .
T h e consequences of distinguishing between OwiX_s^yjsvy|ll
becume even clearer if o n e considers the t w o major forms which the
desire to be self-directed - directed by one's 'true' self - has
historically taken-' the first, that of self-abnegation in order to attain
J O d ^ e n d e n c e j the second, that of self-realization, or total self-
identification with a specific principle or ideal in order to attain the
selfsame end.. . .
III
LIBERTY A N D SOVEREIGNTY
The French Revolution, like all great revolutions, w a s , at least in its

Jacobin form, just such an eruption of the desire for 'positive
freedom of collective self-direction on the p a r t of a large body of
Frenchmen w h o felt liberated as a nation, even though the result
was, for a good many of t h e m , a severe restriction of individual
freedoms. Rousseau had spoken exultantly of the fact t h a t the laws
of liberty might prove to be more austere than the y o k e of tyranny.
Tyranny is service to h u m a n masters. T h e law c a n n o t be a tyrant.
Rousseau does not mean by liberty the 'negative' freedom of the
individual not to be interfered with within a defined a r e a , b u t the
possession by all, and not merely by some, of the fully qualified
members of a society of a share in the public p o w e r which is
entitled to interfere with every aspect of every citizen's life. The
liberals of the first half of the nineteenth century correctly foresaw
that liberty in this 'positive' sense could easily destroy t o o many of
the 'negative' liberties that they held sacred. They p o i n t e d out that
the sovereignty of the people could easily destroy t h a t of indi
viduals. Mill explained, patiently and u n a n s w e r a b l y , t h a t govern
ment by the people was not, in his sense, necessarily freedom at all.
For those w h o govern are not necessarily the same ' p e o p l e ' as those
w h o are governed, and democratic self-government is n o t the
government 'of each by himself but, at best, of 'each by the rest'.
Mill and his disciples spoke of the tyranny of the majority and of
the tyranny of 'the prevailing feeling and o p i n i o n ' , a n d s a w n o great
difference between that and any other kind of t y r a n n y which
encroaches u p o n men's activities b e y o n d the sacred frontiers of
private life.
N o one saw the conflict between the t w o types of liberty better,

or expressed it m o r e clearly, t h a n Benjamin C o n s t a n t . H e p o i n t e d
out that the transference by a successful j i s i n g of the unlimited
authority, commonly called sovereignty, from o n e set of h a n d s to
another does not increase liberty, b u t merely shifts the b u r d e n of
slavery. H e reasonably asked w h y a m a n should deeply care
whether h e is crushed by a p o p u l a r government or by a m o n a r c h , or
even by a set of oppressive laws. H e saw t h a t th^majn^pxDblem for
e 0
^ ^ J 5 ! j > ^ i r ^ ' n e . a t i v e : , i n d i v i d u a L i r e e d o m is_nat w h o wields
g
t h i s . a u t h p m j r j i u t how^much a u t h o r i t y ^ M u J x i J ^ r i l a c e i i n M y ^ e t
Isaiah Berlin 27
of h a n d s . For unlimited authority in a n y b o d y ' s grasp was bound,
"hTrjelieved, s o o n e r o r later, to destroy somebody. H e maintained
t h a t usually m e n p r o t e s t e d against this or t h a t set of governors as
oppressive, w h e n the real cause of oppression lay in the mere fact of
the a c c u m u l a t i o n of p o w e r itself, wherever it might h a p p e n to be,
since liberty w a s e n d a n g e r e d by the mere existence of absolute
a u t h o r i t y as such. 'It is n o t the a r m that is unjust', he wrote, 'but the
w e a p o n t h a t is t o o heavy - some weights are t o o heavy for the
h u m a n h a n d . ' D e m o c r a c y m a y disarm a given oligarchy, a given
privileged individual o r set of individuals, b u t it can still crush
individuals as mercilessly as any previous ruler. In an essay
c o m p a r i n g the liberty of the m o d e r n s with that of the ancients he
said that an equal right t o oppress - or interfere - is n o t equivalent
t o liberty. N o r does universal consent to loss of liberty somehow
miraculously preserve it merely by being universal, or by being
consent. If I consent to be oppressed, o r acquiesce in my condition
with d e t a c h m e n t o r irony, a m I the less oppressed? If I sell myself
into slavery, a m I t h e less a slave? If I commit suicide, a m I the less
dead because I have t a k e n my o w n life freely? 'Popular government
is a s p a s m o d i c t y r a n n y , m o n a r c h y a m o r e efficiently centralized
despotism.' C o n s t a n t s a w in Rousseau the most dangerous enemy
of individual liberty, because he h a d declared t h a t 'by giving myself
to all I give myself t o n o n e ' . C o n s t a n t could not see why, even
t h o u g h the sovereign is ' e v e r y b o d y ' , it should not oppress one of
the ' m e m b e r s ' of its indivisible self, if it so decided. I may, of course,
prefer t o be deprived of m y liberties by an assembly, or a family, or
a class, in which I a m a minority. It may give m e an opportunity one
day of p e r s u a d i n g t h e others to d o for m e that to which I feel I am
entitled. But to be deprived of m y liberty at the hands of my family
or friends o r fellow citizens is to be deprived of it just as effectively.
H o b b e s w a s at a n y rate m o r e candid: he did n o t pretend that a
sovereign does n o t enslave: he justified this slavery, b u t at least did
not have t h e effrontery t o call it freedom.
T h r o u g h o u t the. nineteenth century J i b e j a U b i n k e r s . maintained
t h a t if liberty involved a limit u p o n the p o w e r s of any m a n to force
me t o , d o w h a t I did n o t , o r might n o t , wish t o d o , then, whatever
the ideal in t h e n a m e of which I w a s coerced, I w a s not free; that the
doctrine of a b s o l u t e sovereignty w a s a tyrannical doctrine .in itself,.
If I wish t o preserve m y liberty, it is n o t e n o u g h t o say that is must
n o t be violated unless s o m e o n e o r other - the absolute ruler, or the
p o p u l a r assr n b l y , o r t h e King in Parliament, o r the judges, or some
c o m b i n a t i o n of a u t h o r i t i e s , o r the laws themselves - for the laws
m a y be oppressive - authorizes its violation, I must establish a-
society in which there m u s t bje_somejxoiitiers of freedom which
Tnot3od5~s1S^ld be pelrnirtteTto^cross. Different n a m e s or natures
may be given to the rules that determine these frontiers: they may
be called natural rights, or the w o r d of G o d , or N a t u r a l L a w , or the
d e m a n d s of utility or of the ' p e r m a n e n t interests of m a n ' ; I may
believe them to be valid a priori, o r j i s s e r t t h e m to be my o w n
ultirnatFenas7ofTteTna"s; of my so'ciety or culture. W h a t these rules
or a ^ m T n a m e n T s " w i l l have in c o m m o n is that they are accepted so
widely, and are grounded so deeply in the actual n a t u r e of men as
they have developed t h r o u g h history, as t o be, by n o w , a n essential
j part of what we mean by being a n o r m a l h u m a n being. G e n u i n e
/ belief in the inviolability of a m i n i m u m extent of individual liberty
I entails some such absolute stand. For it is clear t h a t it has little to
h o p e for from the rule of majorities; democracy as such is logically
uncommitted to it, a n d historically has at times failed to protect it,
while remaining faithful to its o w n principles. Few g o v e r n m e n t s , it
has been observed, have found much difficulty in causing their
subjects t o generate any will that the government w a n t e d . ' T h e
triumph of despotism is to force the slaves to declare themselves
free. It m a y need n o force; the slaves may proclaim their freedom
quite sincerely: but they are none the less slaves. Perhaps the chief
value for liberals of political - 'positive' - rights, of participating in
the government, is as a means for protecting w h a t they h o l d t o be
an ultimate value, namely individual - 'negative' - liberty.
But if d e n i o c x a c i e s . . . ^
suppress f r e i d o r r v a L l e a s t a s l i b e n i l s ^
would m a k e a s o d e t y truly free? For C o n s t a n t , N4ill, Tocqueville,
and the liberal tradition t o w h i c h they, belongs
unless it is governed by at any rate t w o interrelated principles: first,
that n o p o w e r , but only rights, can. be regarded as absolute, so that
all m e n , whatever p o w e r governs them, h a v e an absolute right t o
rejfuse to behave inhurnanly; a n d , . s e c o n d t h a t t h e r e a r e frontiers,
r
not artificially d r a w n , within which m e n should be inviolable, these

frontiers being denned in terms. o£ rules so.lon&and widely accepted
that their observance has entered into the very conception of w h a t
it is"toi«: a n o r m a l h u m a n being, a n d , therefore, also of w h a t it is t o
act m h u m a n l y o r insanely;,jroles..oi which it would:beTrterrxd t o
say, for example, t h a t they could be abrogated by some formal
procedure on'"the"paff of some c o u ^ When I
speak of a m a n as being n o r m a l , a p a r t of w h a t I m e a n is t h a t h e
could n o t b r e a k these rules easily, w i t h o u t a q u a l m of revulsion, it
is such rules as these that are b r o k e n w h e n a m a n is declared guilty
without trial, or punished under a retroactive l a w ; w h e n children
Isaiah Berlin 29
are o r d e r e d to d e n o u n c e their parents, friends to betray one
a n o t h e r , soldiers t o use m e t h o d s of b a r b a r i s m ; w h e n men are
t o r t u r e d or m u r d e r e d , or minorities are massacred because they
irritate a majority o r a tyrant. Such acts, even if they are m a d e legal
by the sovereign, cause h o r r o r even in these days, a n d this springs
from the recognition of the m o r a l validity — irrespective of the laws
— of some absolute barriers t o the imposition of one m a n ' s will o n
a n o t h e r . T h e freedom of a society, or a class or a g r o u p , in this
sense of freedom, is measured by the strength of these barriers, a n d
the n u m b e r a n d i m p o r t a n c e of the p a t h s which they keep open for
their m e m b e r s - if not for all, for at any rate a great n u m b e r of
1 1
them.
. T h i s is a l m o s t at the opposite pole from the purposes of those
w h o believe in liberty in the 'positive' - self-directive - sense J " h e
former w a n t to curb authority as such. T h e latter w a n t it placed
in their o w n h a n d s . T h a t is a cardinal issue. These are not t w o
different interpretations of a single concept, but t w o profoundly
divergent a n d irreconcilable attitudes to the ends of life. It is as well
t o recognize this, even if in practice it is often necessary to strike a
c o m p r o m i s e b e t w e e n them. For each of them m a k e s absolute
claims. These claims c a n n o t both be fully satisfied. But it is a
p r o f o u n d lack of social a n d m o r a l u n d e r s t a n d i n g n o t to recognize
t h a t the satisfaction that each of t h e m seeks is an ultimate value
which, both historically a n d morally, has an equal right to be
classed a m o n g the deepest interests of m a n k i n d .
IV
THE ONE AND THE MANY
O n e belief, m o r e t h a n any other, is responsible for the slaughter of

individuals o n the altars of the great historical ideals — justice
or progress o r the happiness of future generations, or the sacred
mission o r e m a n c i p a t i o n of a nation o r race or class, o r even liberty
itself, w h i c h d e m a n d s the sacrifice of individuals for the freedom of
society. This is t h e belief t h a t s o m e w h e r e , in the past or in the
future, in divine revelation or in the m i n d of an individual thinker,
in the p r o n o u n c e m e n t s of history o r science, or in the simple h e a r t
of a n u n c o r r u p t e d g o o d m a n , there is a final solution. This ancient
faith rests o n t h e conviction t h a t all the positive values in which
men have believed must, in the end, be compatible, and p e r h a p s
even entail one another. ' N a t u r e binds truth, happiness, and virtue
together as by an indissoluble chain', said one of the best men w h o
ever lived, and spoke in similar terms of diherty, equality, a n d
12
j u s t i c e . But is this true? It is a commonplace that neither political
equality n o r efficient organization nor social justice is c o m p a t i b l e
with more t h a n a modicum of individual liberty, and certainly n o t
with unrestricted laissez-faire; t h a t justice and generosity, public
and private loyalties, the demands of genius and the claims of
society, can conflict violently with each other. And it is n o great
way from that to the generalization that not all good things are
compatible, still less all the ideals of m a n k i n d . But somewhere, w e
shall be told, a n d in some w a y , it must be possible for all these
values to live together, for unless this is so, the universe is not a
cosmos, not a h a r m o n y ; unless this is so, conflicts of values m a y
be an intrinsic, irremovable element in h u m a n life. T o a d m i t
that the fulfilment of some of o u r ideals may in principle m a k e
the fulfilment of others impossible is to say t h a t the notion of
total h u m a n fulfilment is a formal contradiction, a metaphysical
chimera. For every rationalist metaphysician, from Plato to the last
disciples of Hegel or M a r x , this a b a n d o n m e n t of the notion of a
final harmony in which all riddles are solved, all contradictions
reconciled, is a piece of crude empiricism, abdication before brute
facts, intolerable bankruptcy of reason before things as they are,
failure to explain and t o justify, to reduce everything t o a system,
which 'reason' indignantly rejects. But if we are n o t armed with an
a priori guarantee of the proposition that a total h a r m o n y of t r u e
values is somewhere to be found - perhaps in some ideal realm the
characteristics of which we can, in our finite state, not so much as
conceive - we must fall back on the ordinary resources of empirical
observation and ordinary h u m a n knowledge. And these certainly
give us no w a r r a n t for supposing (or even understanding w h a t
would be meant by saying) that all good things, or all b a d things for
that matter, are reconcilable with each other. T h e world that w e
encounter in ordinary experience is one in which we are faced w i t h
choices between ends equally ultimate, a n d claims equally a b s o l u t e ,
the realization of some of which must inevitably involve the
sacrifice of others. Indeed, it is because this is their situation t h a t
men place such immense value u p o n the freedom to choose; for if
they had assurance t h a t in some perfect state, realizable by men o n
earth, n o ends pursued by them would ever be in conflict, the
necessity and agony of choice would disappear, and with it the
central importance of the freedom to choose. Any method of
Isaiah Berlin 31
bringing this final state nearer w o u l d then seem fully justified, n o
m a t t e r h o w m u c h freedom were sacrificed to forward its advance. It
is, I h a v e n o d o u b t , some such d o g m a t i c certainty t h a t has been
responsible for t h e deep, serene, unshakeable conviction in the
m i n d s of some of the most merciless tyrants a n d persecutors in
history t h a t w h a t they did w a s fully justified by its purpose. 1 d o n o t
say t h a t the ideal of self-perfection - w h e t h e r for individuals or
n a t i o n s o r churches o r classes - is to be c o n d e m n e d in itself, or that
the language which w a s used in its defence w a s in all cases the result
of a confused or fraudulent use of w o r d s , o r of moral or intellectual
perversity. Indeed, I have tried to s h o w that it is the notion of
freedom in its 'positive' sense t h a t is at the heart of the d e m a n d s for
national o r social self-direction which a n i m a t e the most powerful
and morally just public m o v e m e n t s of o u r time, a n d that not to
recognize this is to m i s u n d e r s t a n d the most vital facts and ideas of
o u r age. But equally it seems to me that the belief t h a t some single
formula can in principle be found whereby all the diverse ends of
m e n c a n be h a r m o n i o u s l y realized is demonstrably false. If, as I
believe, the ends of men are many, a n d n o t all of them are in
principle c o m p a t i b l e with each other, then the possibility of conflict
— a n d of tragedy — can never wholly be eliminated from h u m a n
life, either personal o r social. T h e necessity of choosing between
absolute claims is then an inescapable characteristic of the h u m a n
condition. This gives its value to freedom as Acton h a d conceived of
it — as an end in itself, a n d n o t as a t e m p o r a r y need, arising o u t
of o u r confused n o t i o n s a n d irrational and disordered lives, a
p r e d i c a m e n t which a panacea could o n e day p u t right.
I d o n o t wish t o say t h a t individual freedom is, even in the most
liberal societies, the sole, or even the d o m i n a n t , criterion of social
action. W e compel children to be educated, and we forbid public
executions. T h e s e are certainly curbs to freedom. W e justify them
on t h e g r o u n d s t h a t ignorance, o r a b a r b a r i a n upbringing, or cruel
pleasures a n d excitements are worse for us than the a m o u n t of
restraint needed t o repress t h e m . This j u d g e m e n t in turn depends
o n h o w w e d e t e r m i n e g o o d a n d evil, t h a t is-txx say,, o n o u r . m o r a l ,
religious, intellectual, economic, and aesthetic values; which are, in
their t u r n , b o u n d u p with o u r conception of m a n , and of the basic
d e m a n d s of his n a t u r e . In other w o r d s , our solution of such
p r o b l e m s is based o n our vision, by which w e are consciously o r
unconsciously guided, of w h a t constitutes a fulfilled h u m a n life, as
contrasted w i t h Mill's ' c r a m p e d and w a r p e d ' , 'pinched and hide
b o u n d ' n a t u r e s . T o protest against the laws governing censorship
o r p e r s o n a l m o r a l s as intolerable infringements of personal liberty
presupposes a belief that the activities which such laws forbid are
fundamental needs of men as men, in a good (or, indeed, any)
society. T o defend such laws is t o hold t h a t these needs are n o t
essential, or that they cannot be satisfied w i t h o u t sacrificing other
values which come higher - satisfy deeper needs - than individual
freedom, determined by some standard that is n o t merely subjec
tive, a standard for which some objective status - empirical or
a priori — is claimed.
The extent of a man's, or a people's, liberty to c h o o s e t o live as
they desire must be weighed against the claims of many other
values, of which equality, or justice, or happiness, or security, or
public order are perhaps the most obvious examples. F o r this
reason, it cannot be unlimited. W e are rightly reminded by R. H .
Tawney that the liberty of the strong, whether their strength is
physical or economic, must be restrained. This m a x i m claims
respect, not as a consequence of some a priori rule, whereby the
respect for the liberty of one m a n logically entails respect for
the liberty of others like him; but simply because respect for the
principles of justice, or shame a t gross inequality of t r e a t m e n t , is
as basic in men as the desire for liberty. T h a t we c a n n o t have
everything is a necessary, not a contingent, truth. Burke's plea for
the constant need to compensate, to reconcile, to b a l a n c e ; Mill's
plea for novel 'experiments in living' with their p e r m a n e n t possi
bility of error, the knowledge that it is not merely in practice b u t
in principle impossible t o reach clear-cut and certain a n s w e r s , even
in an ideal world of wholly good and rational m e n a n d wholly clear
ideas - may madden those w h o seek for final solutions a n d single,
all-embracing systems, guaranteed to be eternal. Nevertheless, it is
a conclusion that cannot be escaped by those w h o , w i t h K a n t , have
learnt the truth that out of the crooked timber of h u m a n i t y n o
straight thing was ever made.
There is little need to stress the fact that m o n i s m , a n d faith in a
single criterion, has always p r o v e d a deep source of satisfaction
both t o the intellect and to the emotions. W h e t h e r the s t a n d a r d of
judgement derives from the vision of some future perfection, as in
the minds of the philosophies in the eighteenth century and their
technocratic successors in our o w n day, or is rooted in the p a s t - la
terre et les morts - as maintained by G e r m a n historicists or French
theocrats, or neo-Conservatives in English-speaking countries, it
is b o u n d , provided it is inflexible enough, to encounter s o m e
unforeseen and unforeseeable h u m a n development, w h i c h it will
not fit; and will then be used to justify the a priori barbarities of
Procrustes - the vivisection of actual h u m a n societies i n t o s o m e
Isaiah Berlin 33
fixed p a t t e r n dictated by o u r fallible understanding of a largely
imaginary p a s t o r a wholly imaginary future. T o preserve our
absolute categories o r ideals at the expense of h u m a n lives offends
equally against the principles of science and of history; it is an
attitude found in equal m e a s u r e on the right and left wings in o u r
days, a n d is n o t reconcilable with the principles accepted by those
w h o respect the facts.
Pluralism, w i t h the measure of 'negative' liberty that it entails,
seems^to" m e a truer a n d m o r e h u m a n ideal than the goals of those
w h o seek in the great, disciplined, a u t h o r i t a r i a n structures the ideal
of 'positive' self-mastery by classes, or peoples, or the whole of
m a n k i n d . It is truer, because it does, at least, recognize the fact that
h u m a n goals are m a n y , n o t all of them commensurable, and in
perpetual rivalry with o n e a n o t h e r . T o assume that all values can be
graded o n one scale, so t h a t it is a mere m a t t e r of inspection to
determine the highest, seems t o me to falsify our knowledge that
men are free agents, to represent m o r a l decision as an operation
which a slide-rule could, in principle, perform. To say that in some
ultimate, all-reconciling, yet realizable synthesis, duty is interest, or
individual freedom is p u r e democracy or an authoritarian state, is
to t h r o w a metaphysical blanket over either self-deceit or deliberate
hypocrisy. It is m o r e h u m a n e because it does not (as the system
builders do) deprive m e n , in the n a m e of some remote, or
incoherent, ideal, of m u c h t h a t they have found to be indispensable
13
to their life as u n p r e d i c t a b l y self-transforming h u m a n b e i n g s . In
the end, men c h o o s e between ultimate values; they choose as they
d o , because their life a n d t h o u g h t are determined by fundamental
m o r a l categories a n d concepts that are, at any rate over large
stretches of time a n d space, a p a r t of their being and thought and
sense of their o w n identity; p a r t of w h a t makes them h u m a n .
It m a y be t h a t the ideal of freedom t o choose ends without
claiming eternal validity for them, a n d the pluralism of values
connected with this, is only the late fruit of our declining capitalist
civilization: an ideal which r e m o t e ages a n d primitive societies have
not recognized, a n d o n e which posterity will regard with curiosity,
even s y m p a t h y , b u t little c o m p r e h e n s i o n . This m a y be so; but n o
sceptical conclusions seem to me to follow. Principles are not less
sacred because their d u r a t i o n c a n n o t be guaranteed. Indeed, the
very desire for g u a r a n t e e s t h a t our values are eternal a n d secure in
some objective h e a v e n is p e r h a p s only a craving for the certainties
of c h i l d h o o d or the absolute values of o u r primitive past. ' T o realise
the relative validity of o n e ' s convictions', said an admirable writer
of o u r time, ' a n d yet stand for t h e m unflinchingly, is w h a t
distinguishes a civilised man from a barbarian.' T o d e m a n d m o r e
than this is perhaps a deep and incurable metaphysical need; but to
allow it to determine one's practice is a symptom of a n equally
deep, and more dangerous, moral and political immaturity.
NOTES
1
1 do not, of course, mean to imply the truth of the converse.
2
Helvetius made this point very clearly: 'The free man is the man who is
not in irons, nor imprisoned in a gaol, nor terrorized like a slave by the
fear of punishment... it is not lack of freedom not to fly like an eagle
or swim like a whale.'
3
The Marxist conception of social laws is, of course, the best-known
version of this theory, but it forms a large element in some Christian
and utilitarian, and all socialist, doctrines.
4
'A free man', said Hobbes, 'is he that . . . is not hindered to do what he
hath the will to do.' Law is always a 'fetter', even if it protects you from
being bound in chains that are heavier than those of the law, say, some
more repressive law or custom, or arbitrary despotism or chaos.
Bentham says much the same.
5
This is but another illustration of the natural tendency of all but a very
few thinkers to believe that all the things they hold good must be
intimately connected, or at least compatible, with one another. The
history of thought, like the history of nations, is strewn with examples
of inconsistent, or at least disparate, elements artificially yoked together
in a despotic system, or held together by the danger of some common
enemy. In due course the danger passes, and conflicts between the allies
arise, which often disrupt the system, sometimes to the great benefit of
mankind.
6
See the valuable discussion of this in Michel Villey, Lecons d'bistoire de
la philosophie du droit, who traces the embryo of the notion of
subjective rights to Occam.
Christian (and Jewish or Moslem) belief in the absolute authority of
divine or natural laws, or in the equality of all men in the sight of God,
is very different from belief in freedom to live as one prefers.
8
Indeed, it is arguable that in the Prussia of Frederick the Great or in the
Austria of Josef 11 men of imagination, originality, and creative genius,
and, indeed, minorities of all kinds, were less persecuted and felt the
pressure, both of institutions and custom, less heavy upon them than in
many an earlier or later democracy.
9
'Negative liberty' is something the extent of which, in a given case, it is
difficult to estimate. It might, prima facie, seem to depend simply on the
power to choose between at any rate two alternatives. Nevertheless,
not all choices are equally free, or free at all. If in a totalitarian state I
betray my friend under threat of torture, perhaps even if I act from
Isaiah Berlin 35
fear of losing my job, I can reasonably say that I did not act freely.
Nevertheless, I did, of course, make a choice, and could, at any rate in
theory, have chosen to be killed or tortured or imprisoned. The mere
existence of alternatives is not, therefore, enough to make my action
free (although it may be voluntary) in the normal sense of the word.
The extent of my freedom seems to depend on (a) how many
possibilities are open to me (although the method of counting these can
never be more than impressionistic. Possibilities of action are not
discrete entities like apples, which can be exhaustively enumerated); (b)
how easy or difficult each of these possibilities is to actualize; (c) how
important in my plan of life, given my character and circumstances,
these possibilities are when compared with each other; (d) how far they
are closed and opened by deliberate human acts; (e) what value not
merely the agent, but the general sentiment of the society in which he
lives, puts on the various possibilities. All these magnitudes must be
'integrated', and a conclusion, necessarily never precise, or indisput
able, drawn from this process. It may well be that there are many
incommensurable kinds and degrees of freedom, and that they cannot
be drawn up on any single scale of magnitude. Moreover, in the case of
societies, we are faced by such (logically absurd) questions as 'Would
arrangement X increase the liberty of Mr A more than it would that
of Messrs B, C, and D between them, added together?' The same
difficulties arise in applying utilitarian criteria. Nevertheless, provided
we do not demand precise measurement, we can give valid reasons for
saying that the average subject of the King of Sweden is, on the whole, a
good deal freer today than the average citizen of Spain or Albania.
Total patterns of life must be compared directly as wholes, although
the method by which we make the comparison, and the truth of the
conclusions, are difficult or impossible to demonstrate. But the
vagueness of the concepts, and the multiplicity of the criteria involved,
is an attribute of the subject-matter itself, not of our imperfect methods
of measurement, or incapacity for precise thought.
'The ideal of true freedom is the maximum of power for all the members
of human society alike to make the best of themselves', said T. H. Green
in 1881. Apart from the confusion of freedom with equality, this entails
that if a man chose some immediate pleasure - which (in whose view?)
would not enable him to make the best of himself (what self?) - what he
was exercising was not 'true' freedom: and if deprived of it, would not
lose anything that mattered. Green was a genuine liberal: but many a
tyrant could use this formula to justify his worst acts of oppression.
In Great Britain such legal power is, of course, constitutionally vested
in the absolute sovereign - the King in Parliament. What makes this
country comparatively free, therefore, is the fact that this theoretically
omnipotent entity is restrained by custom or opinion from behaving as
such. It is clear that what matters is not the form of these restraints on
power - whether they are legal, or moral, or constitutional - but their
effectiveness.
1 2
Condorcet, from whose Esquisse these words are quoted, declares that
the task of social science is to show 'by what bonds Nature has united
the progress of enlightenment with that of liberty, virtue, and respect
for the natural rights of man; how these ideals, which alone are truly
good, yet so often separated from each other that they are even believed
to be incompatible, should, on the contrary, become inseparable, as
soon as enlightenment has reached a certain level simultaneously among
a large number of nations'. He goes on to say that: 'Men still preserve
the errors of their childhood, of their country, and of their age long after
having recognized all the truths needed for destroying them.' Ironically
enough, his belief in the need and possibility of uniting all good things
may well be precisely the kind of error he himself so well described.
1
On this also Bentham seems to me to have spoken well: 'Individual
interests are the only real interests . . . can it be conceived that there are
men so absurd as to . . . prefer the man who is not to him who is; to
torment the living, under pretence of promoting the happiness of them
who are not born, and who may never be born?' This is one of the
infrequent occasions when Burke agrees with Bentham; for this passage
is at the heart of the empirical, as against the metaphysical, view of
politics.
2
John Rawls: The Right and

the Good Contrasted *
5. CLASSICAL UTILITARIANISM
• . . The striking feature of the utilitarian view of justice is that it

does n o t m a t t e r , e x c e p t indirectly, h o w this sum of satisfactions is
distributed a m o n g individuals any m o r e than it matters, except
indirectly, h o w o n e m a n distributes his satisfactions over time. The
correct d i s t r i b u t i o n in either case is that which yields the maximum
fulfillment. Society m u s t allocate its means of satisfaction whatever
these a r e , rights a n d duties, opportunities and privileges, and
various forms of w e a l t h , so as to achieve this m a x i m u m if it can.
But in itself n o d i s t r i b u t i o n of satisfaction is better than another
except t h a t the m o r e e q u a l distribution is to be preferred to break
1
ties. It is true t h a t certain c o m m o n sense precepts of justice,
particularly those w h i c h concern the protection of liberties and
rights, o r w h i c h e x p r e s s the claims of desert, seem to contradict this
contention. But from a utilitarian s t a n d p o i n t the explanation of
these precepts a n d of their seemingly stringent character is that they
are those p r e c e p t s w h i c h experience shows should be strictly
respected a n d d e p a r t e d from only under exceptional circumstances
2
if the s u m of a d v a n t a g e s is t o be m a x i m i z e d . Yet, as with all other
precepts, t h o s e of justice are derivative from the one end of
attaining the greatest b a l a n c e of satisfaction. Thus there is no
reason in principle w h y the greater gains of some should not
c o m p e n s a t e for the lesser losses of o t h e r s ; or more importantly,
why the violation of the liberty of a few might not be made right by
the greater g o o d s h a r e d by m a n y . It simply happens that under
most c o n d i t i o n s , at least in a reasonably advanced stage of
civilization, the greatest s u m of advantages is not attained in this
'Reprinted by permission of the publishers from A THEORY OF JUSTICE

b o f
Y John Rawls, Cambridge, Mass: The Belknap Press ™rvam
University Press, copyright © 1971 by the President and Fellows of Harvard
College. Also in Great Britain by permission of Oxford University Press.
38 The Right and the Good Contrasted
way. N o doubt the strictness of c o m m o n sense precepts of justice
has a certain usefulness in limiting men's propensities t o injustice
and to socially injurious actions, b u t the utilitarian believes that to
affirm this strictness as a first principle of morals is a m i s t a k e . For
just as it is rational for one m a n to maximize the fulfillment of his
system of desires, it is right for a society t o m a x i m i z e the net
balance of satisfaction taken over all of its m e m b e r s .
The most natural way, then, of arriving at utilitarianism
(although not, of course, the only way of doing so) is to a d o p t for
society as a whole the principle of rational choice for o n e m a n .
Once this is recognized, the place of the impartial spectator a n d the
emphasis on sympathy in the history of utilitarian t h o u g h t is readily
understood. For it is by the conception of the impartial spectator
and the use of sympathetic identification in guiding o u r imagination
that the principle for one man is applied to society. It is this
spectator w h o is conceived as carrying o u t the required organiza
tion of the desires of all persons into one coherent system of desire;
it is by this construction that many persons are fused i n t o one.
Endowed with ideal powers of sympathy and i m a g i n a t i o n , the
impartial spectator is the perfectly rational individual w h o identi
fies with and experiences the desires of others as if these desires
were his o w n . In this way he ascertains the intensity of these desires
and assigns t h e m their appropriate weight in the o n e system of
desire the satisfaction of which the ideal legislator then tries t o
maximize by adjusting the rules of the social system. O n this
conception of society separate individuals are t h o u g h t of as so
many different lines along which rights a n d duties are to be
assigned and scarce means of satisfaction allocated in a c c o r d a n c e
with rules so as to give the greatest fulfillment of w a n t s . T h e n a t u r e
of the decision made by the ideal legislator is n o t , therefore,
materially different from that of a n entrepreneur deciding h o w t o
maximize his profit by producing this or that c o m m o d i t y , o r t h a t of
a consumer deciding h o w to maximize his satisfaction by the
purchase of this or that collection of goods. In each case there is a
single person whose system of desires determines the best allocation
of limited means. T h e correct decision is essentially a question of
efficient administration. This view of social co-operation is the
consequence of extending to society the principle of choice for o n e
m a n , and then, to m a k e this extension work, conflating all p e r s o n s
into one through the imaginative acts of the impartial s y m p a t h e t i c
spectator. Utilitarianism does not take seriously the distinction
between persons.
John Raivls 39
6. SOME RELATED CONTRASTS
It has seemed to m a n y p h i l o s o p h e r s , and it appears to be supported

by the convictions of c o m m o n sense, that we distinguish as a matter
of principle b e t w e e n the claims of liberty and right on the one hand
and the desirability of increasing aggregate social welfare on the
other; a n d t h a t w e give a certain priority, if not absolute weight,
to the former. E a c h m e m b e r of society is thought to have an
inviolability f o u n d e d o n justice or, as some say, on natural right,
which even the welfare of every one else cannot override. Justice
denies t h a t the loss of freedom for some is made right by a greater
good s h a r e d by o t h e r s . T h e reasoning which balances the gains and
losses of different p e r s o n s as if they were one person is excluded.
Therefore in a just society the basic liberties are taken for granted
and the rights secured by justice are not subject to political
bargaining or to the calculus of social interests.
Justice as fairness a t t e m p t s t o account for these common sense
convictions c o n c e r n i n g the priority of justice by showing that they
are the c o n s e q u e n c e of principles which w o u l d be chosen in the
original position. T h e s e judgements reflect the rational preferences
and the initial e q u a l i t y of the contracting parties. Although the
utilitarian recognizes t h a t , strictly speaking, his doctrine conflicts
with these s e n t i m e n t s of justice, he maintains that common sense
precepts of justice a n d n o t i o n s of natural right have but a
s u b o r d i n a t e validity as s e c o n d a r y rules; they arise from the fact that
under the c o n d i t i o n s of civilized society there is great social utility
in following t h e m for the m o s t p a r t a n d in permitting violations
only u n d e r e x c e p t i o n a l circumstances. Even the excessive zeal with
which w e are a p t t o affirm these precepts and to appeal to these
rights is itself g r a n t e d a certain usefulness, since it counterbalances
a n a t u r a l h u m a n t e n d e n c y t o violate t h e m in ways not sanctioned
by utility. O n c e w e u n d e r s t a n d this, the a p p a r e n t disparity between
the utilitarian principle a n d the strength of these persuasions or
justice is n o longer a philosophical difficulty. Thus while the
contract d o c t r i n e accepts o u r convictions about the priority or
justice as o n the w h o l e s o u n d , utilitarianism seeks t o account tor
them as a socially useful illusion. ,
A s e c o n d c o n t r a s t is t h a t whereas the utilitarian extends to
society the principle of choice for o n e m a n , justice as fairness, being
a contract view, assumes t h a t the principles of social choice, a n d so
the principles of justice, are themselves the object of an original
agreement. There is n o reason t o suppose t h a t the principles which
should regulate an association of m e n is simply an extension of the
principle of choice for one m a n . O n the contrary: if w e assume t h a t
the correct regulative principle for anything d e p e n d s on t h e n a t u r e
of that thing, and that the plurality of distinct persons w i t h separate
systems of ends is an essential feature of h u m a n societies, w e should
not expect the principles of social choice to be utilitarian. T o be
sure, it has not been shown by anything said so far that the parties in
the original position would not choose the principle of utility t o
define the terms of social co-operation. This is a difficult question
which 1 shall examine later on. It is perfectly possible, from all t h a t
one k n o w s at this point, t h a t some form of the principle of utility
would be adopted, a n d therefore that contract theory leads
eventually to a deeper and more r o u n d a b o u t justification of
utilitarianism. In fact a derivation of this k i n d is sometimes
suggested by Bentham and Edgeworth, although it is n o t developed
by them in any systematic w a y a n d to my knowledge it is n o t found
3
in Sidgwick. For the present I shall simply asssume that the p e r s o n s
in the original position would reject the utility principle a n d t h a t
they w o u l d a d o p t instead, for the kinds of reasons previously
sketched, the t w o principles of justice already m e n t i o n e d . In any
case, from the standpoint of contract theory o n e c a n n o t arrive at a
principle of social choice merely by extending the principle of
rational prudence to the system of desires constructed by the
impartial spectator. T o do this is not to take seriously the plurality
and distinctness of individuals, nor to recognize as the basis of
justice that to which m e n w o u l d consent. H e r e w e m a y n o t e a
curious anomaly. It is customary to think of utilitarianism as
individualistic, and certainly there are good reasons for t h i s . T h e
utilitarians were strong defenders of liberty and freedom of
thought, and they held t h a t the good of society is constituted by the
advantages enjoyed by individuals. Yet utilitarianism is n o t indi
vidualistic, at least w h e n arrived a t by the more n a t u r a l course of
reflection, in that, by conflating all systems of desires, it applies t o
society the principle of choice for one man. And t h u s w e see t h a t the
second contrast is related to the first, since it is this conflation, a n d
the principle based u p o n it, which subjects the rights secured by
justice to the calculus of social interests.
T h e last contrast that I shall mention n o w is t h a t utilitarianism is
a ideological theory whereas justice as fairness is not. By definition,
John Rawls 41
then, the latter is a deontological theory, one that either does not
specify the g o o d i n d e p e n d e n t l y from the right, o r does not interpret
the right as m a x i m i z i n g the good. (It should be noted that
deontological theories are defined as non-teleological ones, not
as views t h a t characterize the Tightness of institutions and acts
independently from their consequences. All ethical doctrines worth
our a t t e n t i o n t a k e consequences into account in judging Tightness.
One which did n o t w o u l d simply be irrational, crazy.) Justice as
fairness is a d e o n t o l o g i c a l t h e o r y in the second way. For if it is
assumed t h a t the p e r s o n s in the original position would choose a
principle of equal liberty a n d restrict economic and social inequali
ties to those in everyone's interests, there is n o reason to think that
just institutions will m a x i m i z e the g o o d . (Here I suppose with
utilitarianism t h a t the g o o d is defined as the satisfaction of rational
desire.) Of c o u r s e , it is n o t impossible that the most good is
produced b u t it w o u l d be a coincidence. T h e question of attaining
the greatest net b a l a n c e of satisfaction never arises in justice as
fairness; this m a x i m u m principle is not used at all.
There is a further p o i n t in this connection. In utilitarianism the
satisfaction of any desire h a s s o m e value in itself which must be
taken into a c c o u n t in deciding w h a t is right. In calculating the
greatest balance of satisfaction it does not matter, except indirectly,
4
what the desires are f o r . W e are to arrange institutions so as to
obtain t h e greatest s u m of satisfactions; w e ask n o questions about
their source or quality b u t only h o w their satisfaction would affect
the total of well-being. Social welfare depends directly and solely
upon the levels of satisfaction or dissatisfaction of individuals. Thus
if men t a k e a certain pleasure in discriminating against one another,
in subjecting o t h e r s t o a lesser liberty as a means of enhancing their
self-respect, t h e n the satisfaction of these desires must be weighed
in o u r deliberations a c c o r d i n g t o their intensity, or whatever, along
with other desires. If society decides to deny them fulfillment, or to
suppress t h e m , it is b e c a u s e they tend to be socially destructive and
a greater welfare c a n be achieved in other ways.
In justice as fairness, o n the o t h e r h a n d , persons accept in
advance a principle of equal liberty and they do this without a
knowledge of their m o r e p a r t i c u l a r ends. They implicitly agree,
therefore, to c o n f o r m their c o n c e p t i o n s of their good to w h a t the
principles of justice r e q u i r e , or at least n o t t o press claims which
directly violate t h e m . An individual w h o finds that he enjoys seeing
others in positions of lesser liberty u n d e r s t a n d s that he has n o claim
whatever to this e n j o y m e n t . T h e pleasure he takes in o t h e r s
deprivations is w r o n g in itself: it is a satisfaction which requires the
violation of a principle to which he w o u l d agree in the original
position. The principles of right, and so of justice, p u t limits on
which satisfactions have value; they impose restrictions o n w h a t are
reasonable conceptions of one's good. In d r a w i n g u p plans a n d in
deciding on aspirations men are to take these c o n s t r a i n t s into
account. Hence in justice as fairness one does not take men s
propensities and inclinations as given, w h a t e v e r they are, a n d then
seek the best way to fulfill them. R a t h e r , their desires and
aspirations are restricted from the outset by the principles of justice
which specify the boundaries that men's systems of ends must
respect. We can express this by saying that in justice as fairness the
concept of right is prior to that of the g o o d . A just social system
defines the scope within which develop their aims, a n d it provides a
framework of rights and opportunities and the means of satisfac
tion within and by the use of which these e n d s m a y be equitably
pursued. The priority of justice is accounted for, in p a r t , by holding
that the interests requiring the violation of justice h a v e n o value.
Having n o merit in the first place, they c a n n o t override its claims.
This priority of the right over the good in justice as fairness turns
out to be a central feature of the conception. It imposes certain
criteria on the design of the basic structure as a w h o l e ; these
arrangements must not tend to generate propensities and attitudes
contrary to the t w o principles of justice (that is, to certain principles
which are given from the first a definite content) a n d they must
ensure that just institutions are stable. T h u s certain initial b o u n d s
are placed upon what is good and w h a t forms of character are
morally worthy, and so upon w h a t kinds of p e r s o n s m e n should
be. N o w any theory of justice will set u p some limits of this
kind, namely, those that are required if its first principles are t o
be satisfied given the circumstances. Utilitarianism excludes those
desires and propensities which if encouraged or p e r m i t t e d w o u l d , in
view of the situation, lead to a lesser net balance of satisfaction. But
this restriction is largely formal, and in the absence of fairly detailed
knowledge of the circumstances it does n o t give m u c h indication of
what these desires and propensities are. This is n o t , by itself, an
objection to utilitarianism. It is simply a feature of utilitarian
doctrine that it relies very heavily u p o n the n a t u r a l facts and
contingencies of h u m a n life in determining w h a t forms of moral
character are to be encouraged in a just society. T h e m o r a l ideal of
justice as fairness is more deeply e m b e d d e d in the first principles of
the ethical theory. This is characteristic of natural rights views (the
contractarian tradition) in comparison with the theory of utility,
in setttng forth these contrasts between justice as fairness and
John Rawls 43
utilitarianism, 1 h a v e h a d in m i n d only the classical doctrine. This is
the view of B e n t h a m a n d Sidgwick and of the utilitarian economists
E d g e w o r t h a n d Pigou. T h e kind of utilitarianism espoused by
H u m e w o u l d n o t serve my purpose; indeed, it is not strictly
speaking utilitarian. In his well-known arguments against Locke's
contract t h e o r y , for e x a m p l e , H u m e maintains that the principles of
fidelity a n d allegiance b o t h have the same foundation in utility, and
therefore t h a t n o t h i n g is gained from basing political obligation on
an original c o n t r a c t . Locke's doctrine represents, for H u m e , an
6
unnecessary shuffle: o n e might as well appeal directly to utility.
But all H u m e seems to m e a n by utility is the general interests and
necessities of society. T h e principles of fidelity and allegiance derive
from utility in the sense t h a t the maintenance of the social order is
impossible unless these principles are generally respected. But then
H u m e assumes t h a t each m a n stands to gain, as judged by his long-
term a d v a n t a g e , w h e n law and government conform to the precepts
founded o n utility. N o m e n t i o n is m a d e of the gains of some
o u t w e i g h i n g the disadvantages of others. For H u m e , then, utility
seems t o be identical with some form of the c o m m o n good;
institutions satisfy its d e m a n d s w h e n they are to everyone's
interests, at least in the long r u n . N o w if this interpretation of
H u m e is correct, there is offhand n o conflict with the priority of
justice a n d n o incompatibility with Locke's contract doctrine. For
the role of equal rights in Locke is precisely to ensure that the only
permissible d e p a r t u r e s from the state of n a t u r e are those which
respect these rights a n d serve the c o m m o n interest. It is clear that all
the t r a n s f o r m a t i o n s form the state of n a t u r e which Locke approves
of satisfy this c o n d i t i o n a n d are such that rational men concerned
t o a d v a n c e their ends could consent to them in a state of equality.
H u m e n o w h e r e disputes the propriety of these constraints. His
critique of Locke's c o n t r a c t doctrine never denies, or even seems to
recognize, its f u n d a m e n t a l contention.
T h e merit of the classical view as formulated by Bentham,
E d g e w o r t h , a n d Sidgwick is t h a t it clearly recognizes w h a t is at
stake, n a m e l y , the relative priority of the principles of justice and of
the rights derived from these principles. The question is whether the
imposition of disadvantages o n a few can be outweighed by a
greater s u m of a d v a n t a g e s enjoyed by others; or whether the weight
of justice requires a n equal liberty for all a n d permits only those
e c o n o m i c a n d social inequalities which are to each person's
interests. Implicit in the contrasts between classical utilitarianism
a n d justice as fairness is a difference in the underlying conceptions
of society. In the o n e w e think of a well-ordered society as a scheme
of co-operation for reciprocal advantage regulated by principles
which persons would choose in an initial situation t h a t is fair, in the
other as the efficient administration of social resources t o maximize
the satisfaction of the system of desire constructed by the impartial
spectator from the many individual systems of desires accepted as
given. The comparison with classical utilitarianism in its more
natural derivation brings out this contrast.
48. LEGITIMATE EXPECTATIONS AND

MORAL DESERT
There is a tendency for c o m m o n sense to suppose t h a t i n c o m e a n d

wealth, and the good things in life generally, should be distributed
according to moral desert. Justice is happiness a c c o r d i n g t o virtue.
While it is recognized that this ideal can never be fully carried
out, it is the appropriate conception of distributive justice, at least
as a prima facie principle, and society should try t o realize it as
7
circumstances permit. N o w justice as fairness rejects this concep
tion. Such a principle would not be chosen in the original position.
There seems t o be n o way of defining the requisite criterion in t h a t
situation. Moreover, the notion of distribution a c c o r d i n g to virtue
fails to distinguish between moral desert a n d legitimate expecta
tions. Thus it is true that as persons and g r o u p s t a k e p a r t in just
arrangements, they acquire claims o n one a n o t h e r defined by the
publicly recognized rules. Having done various things e n c o u r a g e d
by the existing arrangements, they n o w have certain rights, a n d
just distributive shares h o n o u r these claims. A just scheme, then,
answers to what men are entitled t o ; it satisfies their legitimate
expectations as founded upon social institutions. But w h a t they are
entitled to is not proportional to n o r dependent u p o n their intrinsic
worth. The principles of justice that regulate the basic structure a n d
specify the duties and obligations of individuals do n o t m e n t i o n
moral desert, and there is n o tendency for distributive shares to
correspond to it.
This contention is borne out by the preceding a c c o u n t of

common sense precepts and their role in p u r e p r o c e d u r a l justice.
For example, in determining wages a competitive e c o n o m y gives
weight to the precept of contribution. But as w e h a v e seen, the
extent of one's contribution (estimated by one's marginal p r o d u c
tivity) depends upon supply and d e m a n d . Surely a p e r s o n ' s m o r a l
worth does not vary according t o h o w m a n y offer similar skills, or
happen to w a n t w h a t he can p r o d u c e . N o o n e supposes t h a t w h e n
John Rawls 45
s o m e o n e ' s abilities are less in d e m a n d or have deteriorated (as in
the case of singers) his m o r a l deservingness undergoes a similar
8
shift. All of this is perfectly obvious and has long been agreed t o . It
simply reflects the fact n o t e d before that is one of the fixed points
of o u r m o r a l judgements that n o one deserves his place in the
distribution of n a t u r a l assets a n y m o r e t h a n he deserves his initial
starting place in society.
M o r e o v e r , n o n e of the precepts of justice aims at rewarding
virtue. T h e p r e m i u m s earned by scarce natural talents, for example,
are to cover the costs of training a n d to encourage the efforts
of learning, as well as to direct ability to w h e r e it best furthers the
c o m m o n interest. T h e distributive shares that result d o n o t
correlate with m o r a l w o r t h , since the initial e n d o w m e n t of natural
assets a n d the contingencies of their g r o w t h a n d n u r t u r e in early life
are a r b i t r a r y from a m o r a l point of view. T h e precept which seems
intuitively t o come closest to r e w a r d i n g m o r a l desert is that of
distibution according to effort, or p e r h a p s better, conscientious
9
effort. O n c e again, however, it seems clear t h a t the effort a person
is willing t o m a k e is influenced by his n a t u r a l abilities a n d skills a n d
the alternatives o p e n t o him. T h e better e n d o w e d are m o r e likely,
o t h e r things equal, t o strive conscientiously, a n d there seems to be
n o w a y t o discount for their greater g o o d fortune. T h e idea of
r e w a r d i n g desert is impracticable. A n d certainly to the extent that
the precept of need is emphasized, moral w o r t h is ignored. N o r
does the basic structure tend to balance the precepts of justice so as
t o achieve the requisite correspondence behind the scenes. It is
regulated by the t w o principles of justice which define other aims
entirely.
T h e s a m e conclusion may be reached in a n o t h e r way. In the
preceding r e m a r k s the notion of m o r a l w o r t h as distinct from a
p e r s o n ' s claims based u p o n his legitimate expectations has not
been explained. Suppose, then, that w e define this notion and
s h o w t h a t it has n o correlation with distributive shares. W e have
only t o consider a well-ordered society, t h a t is, a society in which
institutions are just a n d this fact is publicly recognized. Its m e m b e r s
also h a v e a s t r o n g sense of justice, an effective desire t o comply
with the existing rules a n d to give o n e a n o t h e r that t o which they
are entitled. In this case we m a y assume t h a t everyone is of equal
m o r a l w o r t h . W e h a v e n o w defined this n o t i o n in terms of the sense
of justice, the desire t o act in accordance w i t h the principles t h a t
w o u l d be chosen in the original position. But it is evident t h a t
u n d e r s t o o d in this w a y , the equal moral w o r t h of persons does n o t
entail t h a t distributive shares are equal. Each is to receive w h a t the
principles of justice say he is entitled to, and these d o n o t require
equality.
The essential point is that the concept of moral w o r t h does not
provide a first principle of distributive justice. This is because it
cannot be introduced until after the principles of justice and of
natural duty and obligation have been a c k n o w l e d g e d . O n c e these
principles are on h a n d , moral w o r t h can be defined as having a
sense of justice; and as I shall discuss later, the virtues can be
characterized as desires or tendencies to act upon the corresponding
principles. T h u s the concept of moral w o r t h is s e c o n d a r y to those
of right and justice, and it plays n o role in the substantive definition
of distributive shares. T h e case is a n a l o g o u s to the relation between
the substantive rules of property and the law of r o b b e r y and theft.
These offences and the demerits they entail p r e s u p p o s e the institu
tion of property which is established for prior and independent
social ends. For a society to organize itself with the aim of
rewarding moral desert as a first principle w o u l d be like having the
institution of property in order to punish thieves. T h e criterion to
each according to his virtue would not, then, be chosen in the
original position. Since the parties desire to a d v a n c e their con
ceptions of the good, they have n o reason for a r r a n g i n g their
institutions so that distributive shares are d e t e r m i n e d by moral
desert, even if they could find an antecedent s t a n d a r d for its
definition.
In a well-ordered society individuals acquire claims t o a share of
the social product by doing certain things e n c o u r a g e d by the
existing arrangements. T h e legitimate e x p e c t a t i o n s t h a t arise are
the other side, so to speak, of the principle of fairness a n d the
natural duty of justice. For in the w a y t h a t o n e has a d u t y to uphold
just arrangements, and an obligation t o d o o n e ' s p a r t w h e n o n e has
accepted a position in them, so a p e r s o n w h o has complied w i t h the
scheme and done his share has a right to be t r e a t e d accordingly by
others. They are b o u n d to meet his legitimate e x p e c t a t i o n s . T h u s
when just economic arrangements exist, the claims of individuals
are properly settled by reference t o the rules a n d precepts (with
their respective weights) which these practices t a k e as relevant. As
we have seen, it is incorrect to say that just distributive shares
reward individuals according to their m o r a l w o r t h . But w h a t we
can say is that, in the traditional p h r a s e , a just scheme gives each
person his due: that is, it allots to each w h a t h e is entitled to as
aenned by the scheme itself. The principles of justice for institutions
and individuals establish that doing this is fair.
s h o u l d b e
w " noted that even t h o u g h a p e r s o n ' s claims are
John Rawls 47
regulated by the existing rules, we can still make a distinction
between being entitled to something and deserving it in a familar
10
although n o n - m o r a l s e n s e . T o illustrate, after a game one often
says t h a t the losing side deserved to win. H e r e one does not mean
t h a t the victors are not entitled to claim the c h a m p i o n s h i p , or
whatever spoils go t o the winner. O n e means instead that the losing
team displayed to a higher degree the skills and qualities that the
g a m e calls forth, a n d the exercise of which gives the sport its
appeal. Therefore the losers truly deserved to win but lost out as a
result of b a d luck, or from other contingencies that caused the
contest to miscarry. Similarly even the best e c o n o m i c arrangements
will not always lead to the m o r e preferred outcomes. T h e claims
t h a t individuals actually acquire inevitably deviate m o r e or less
widely from those t h a t the scheme is designed to allow for. Some
persons in favoured positions, for example, may not have to a
higher degree t h a n o t h e r s the desired qualities and abilities. All this
is evident e n o u g h . Its bearing here is that although w e can indeed
distinguish between the claims t h a t existing arrangements require
us to h o n o u r , given w h a t individuals have d o n e and h o w things
have t u r n e d out, a n d the claims that w o u l d have resulted under
m o r e ideal circumstances, none of this implies that distributive
shares s h o u l d be in accordance with m o r a l w o r t h . Even when
things h a p p e n in the best w a y , there is still no tendency for
distribution and virtue to coincide.
N o d o u b t some m a y still c o n t e n d that distributive shares should
m a t c h m o r a l w o r t h at least to the extent that this is feasible. They
m a y believe that unless those w h o are better off have superior
m o r a l character, their having greater advantages is an affront t o
o u r sense of justice. N o w this opinion may arise from thinking of
distributive justice as s o m e h o w the opposite of retributive justice. It
is true t h a t in a reasonably well-ordered society those w h o are
p u n i s h e d for violating just laws have normally d o n e something
w r o n g . This is because the p u r p o s e of the criminal law is t o uphold
basic n a t u r a l duties, those which forbid us to injure other persons
in their life a n d limb, or to deprive t h e m of their liberty and
p r o p e r t y , a n d p u n i s h m e n t s are to serve this end. They are not
simply a scheme of taxes and b u r d e n s designed to p u t a price on
certain forms of c o n d u c t a n d in this w a y t o guide men's conduct for
m u t u a l a d v a n t a g e . It w o u l d be far better if the acts proscribed
1 1
by penal statutes w e r e never d o n e . T h u s a propensity to commit
such acts is a m a r k of bad character, a n d in a just society legal
p u n i s h m e n t s will only fall u p o n those w h o display these faults.
It is clear t h a t the distribution of e c o n o m i c a n d social advantages
is entirely different. These arrangements are n o t the converse, so to
speak, of the criminal law, so t h a t just as the o n e punishes certain
1 2
offences, the other rewards moral w o r t h . T h e function of unequal
distributive shares is to cover the costs of training a n d e d u c a t i o n , to
attract individuals to places and associations w h e r e they are most
needed from a social point to view, and so o n . A s s u m i n g that
everyone accepts the propriety of self- or group-interested motiva
tion duly regulated by a sense of justice, each decides to d o those
things that best accord with his aims. Variations in wages and
income and the perquisites of position are simply t o influence these
choices so that the end result accords with efficiency a n d justice. In
a well-ordered society there would be n o need for the penal law
except insofar as the assurance p r o b l e m m a d e it necessary. The
question of criminal justice belongs for the m o s t p a r t t o partial
compliance theory, whereas the account of distributive shares
belongs to strict compliance theory a n d so t o the consideration of
the ideal scheme. T o think of distributive a n d retributive justice as
converses of one another is completely misleading a n d suggests a
different justification for distributive shares t h a n the o n e they in
fact have.
68. SEVERAL CONTRASTS BETWEEN THE RIGHT

AND THE GOOD
In order to bring out the structural features of the contract view, 1

shall now mention several contrasts between the concepts of the
right and the good. Since these concepts enable us to explain moral
worth, they are the two fundamental concepts of the t h e o r y . T h e
structure of an ethical doctrine depends u p o n h o w it relates these
two notions and defines their differences. T h e distinctive features of
justice as fairness can be shown by noting these p o i n t s .
One difference is that whereas the principles of justice (and the
principles of right generally) are those t h a t w o u l d be chosen in the
original position, the principles of rational choice a n d the criteria
of deliberative rationality are not chosen at all. T h e first t a s k in
the theory of justice is to define the initial situation so that the
principles that result express the correct conception of justice from
a philosophical point of view. This m e a n s t h a t the typical features
of this situation should represent reasonable c o n s t r a i n t s o n argu
ments for accepting principles and t h a t t h e principles a g r e e d t o
should match our considered convictions of justice in reflective
equilibrium. N o w , the analogous p r o b l e m for the theory of the
John Rawls 49
good does n o t arise. T h e r e is, to begin with, n o necessity for an
agreement u p o n the principles of rational choice. Since each person
is free to plan his life as he pleases (so long as is intentions are
consistent with the principles of justice), unanimity concerning the
s t a n d a r d s of rationality is not required. All the theory of justice
assumes is t h a t , in the thin account of the good, the evident criteria
of rational choice are sufficient to explain the preference for the
p r i m a r y g o o d s , a n d that such variations as exist in conceptions of
rationality d o not affect the principles of justice adopted in the
original position.
Nevertheless, 1 have assumed that h u m a n beings d o recognize
certain principles a n d t h a t these standards may be taken by
e n u m e r a t i o n to replace the notion of rationality. We can, if we
wish, allow certain variations in the list. T h u s there is disagreement
as to the best w a y t o deal with u n c e r t a i n t y . " There is n o reason,
t h o u g h , w h y individuals in m a k i n g their plans should not be
t h o u g h t of as following their inclinations in this case. Therefore any
principle of choice u n d e r uncertainty which seems plausible can be
a d d e d to the list, so long as decisive arguments against it are not
forthcoming. It is only in the thin theory of the good that we have
t o w o r r y a b o u t these matters. H e r e the notion of rationality must
be interpreted so that the general desire for the primary goods can
be established and the choice of the principles of justice demon
strated. But even in this case, I have suggested that the conception
of justice a d o p t e d is insensitive with respect to conflicting interpre
tations of rationality. But in any event, once the principles of justice
are chosen, a n d we are w o r k i n g within the full theory, there is n o
need t o set u p the a c c o u n t of the good so as to force unanimity on
all the s t a n d a r d s of the rational choice. In fact, it would contradict
the freedom of choice t h a t justice as fairness assures to individuals
a n d g r o u p s within the framework of just institutions.
A second contrast between the right and the good is t h a t it is, in
general, a g o o d thing t h a t individuals' conceptions of their good
should differ in significant w a y s , whereas this is not so for
conceptions of right. In a well-ordered society citizens hold the
same principles of right a n d they try to reach the same judgement in
p a r t i c u l a r cases. These principles are to establish a final ordering
a m o n g the conflicting claims t h a t persons m a k e upon one another
a n d it is essential t h a t this ordering be identifiable from everyone's
point of view, h o w e v e r difficult it m a y be in practice for everyone t o
accept it. O n the o t h e r h a n d , individuals find their good in different
w a y s , a n d m a n y things m a y be good for o n e person that w o u l d
n o t be g o o d for a n o t h e r . M o r e o v e r , there is n o urgency t o reach
publicly accepted judgement as to w h a t is the g o o d of particular
individuals. The reasons that make such an agreement necessary in
questions of justice do not obtain for judgements of value. Even
when we take up another's point of view and a t t e m p t to estimate
what would be to his advantage, we d o so as an adviser, so to
speak. We try to put ourselves in the other's place, a n d imagining
that we have his aims and wants, we attempt to see things from his
standpoint. Cases of paternalism aside, our judgement is offered
when it is asked for, but there is no conflict of right if our advice is
disputed and our opinion is not acted u p o n .
In a well-ordered society, then, the plans of life of individuals are
different in the sense that these plans give p r o m i n e n c e to different
aims, and persons are left free to determine their g o o d , the views
of others being counted as merely advisory. N o w this variety in
conceptions of the good is itself a good thing, that is, it is rational
for members of a well-ordered society to w a n t their plans to be
different. The reasons for this are obvious. H u m a n beings have
various talents and abilities the totality of which is unrealizable by
any one person or group of persons. T h u s we not only benefit from
the complementary nature of our developed inclinations but we
take pleasure in one another's activities. It is as if others were
bringing forth a part of ourselves that we have not been able to
cultivate. We have had to devote ourselves t o other things, to
only a small part of what we might have d o n e . But the situation
is quite otherwise with justice: here we require n o t only c o m m o n
principles but sufficiently similar ways of applying t h e m in particu
lar cases so that a final ordering of conflicting claims can be defined.
Judgements of justice are advisory only in special circumstances.
The third difference is that many applications of the principles of
justice are restricted by the veil of ignorance, whereas evaluations
of a persons's good may rely upon a full k n o w l e d g e of the facts.
Thus, as we have seen, not only must the principles of justice be
chosen in the absence of certain kinds of particular information,
but when these principles are used in designing constitutions a n d
basic social arrangements, and in deciding between laws a n d
W C s u b e c t t o s i m i l
TK !M ' a r although n o t as strict limitations.
1 he delegates to a constitutional convention, a n d ideal legislators
and voters, are also required to take u p a point of view in which
they know only the appropriate general facts. An individual's
conception of his good, on the other h a n d , is to be adjusted from
the start to his particular situation. A rational plan of life takes into
account our special abilities, interests, a n d circumstances, a n d
therefore it quite properly depends u p o n o u r social position a n d
John Rawls 51
natural assets. T h e r e is n o objection to fitting rational plans to these
contingencies, since the principles of justice have already been
chosen a n d constrain the content of these plans, the ends that they
encourage a n d the m e a n s t h a t they use. But in judgements of
justice, it is only at the judicial a n d administrative stage that all
restrictions o n i n f o r m a t i o n are d r o p p e d , and particular cases are to
be decided in view of all the relevant facts.
In the light of these contrasts we may further clarify an i m p o r t a n t
difference between the contract doctrine a n d utilitarianism. Since
the principle of utility is to maximize the good understood as the
satisfaction of rational desire, we are to take as given existing
preferences and the possibilities of their continuation into the
future, a n d then to strive for the greatest net balance of satisfaction.
But as we h a v e seen, the determination of rational plans is indeter
minate in i m p o r t a n t w a y s . T h e more evident and easily applied
principles of rational choice d o not specify the best plan; a
great deal remains to be decided. This indeterminacy is n o difficulty
for justice as fairness, since the details of plans d o not affect in any
way w h a t is right or just. O u r w a y of life, whatever o u r particular
circumstances, must always conform to the principles of justice that
are arrived at independently. T h u s the arbitrary features of plans of
life d o n o t affect these principles, or h o w the basic structure is to be
a r r a n g e d . T h e indeterminacy in the notion of rationality does not
translate itself into legitimate claims that men can impose o n one
a n o t h e r . T h e priority of the right prevents this.
T h e utilitarian, o n the other h a n d , must concede the theoretical
possibility t h a t configurations of preferences allowed by this
indeterminacy m a y lead t o injustice as ordinarily understood. For
e x a m p l e , a s s u m e t h a t the larger p a r t of society has an abhorrence
for certain religious o r sexual practices, a n d regards them as an
a b o m i n a t i o n . This feeling is so intense that it is not enough that
these practices be k e p t from the public view; the very t h o u g h t that
these things are going o n is e n o u g h to arouse the majority to anger
a n d h a t r e d . Even w h e n these attitudes are u n s u p p o r t a b l e on moral
g r o u n d s , there a p p e a r s t o be n o sure w a y t o exclude them as
irrational. Seeking the greatest satisfaction of desire m a y , then,
justify h a r s h repressive measures against actions that cause n o
social injury. T o defend individual liberty in this case the utilitarian
has to s h o w t h a t given the circumstances the real balance of
advantages in the long r u n still lies o n the side of freedom; and this
a r g u m e n t m a y or m a y not be successful.
In justice as fairness, however, this problem never arises.
T h e intense convictions of the majority, if they are indeed mere
The Right and the Good Contrasted
p r e f e r e n c e s w i t h o u t any f o u n d a t i o n in the principles of justice
a n t e c e d e n t l y e s t a b l i s h e d , h a v e n o w e i g h t to begin with. The
satisfaction of these feelings has n o value t h a t can be put in the
scales a g a i n s t the c l a i m s of equal liberty. T o have a complaint
a g a i n s t the c o n d u c t a n d belief of o t h e r s we must show that their
a c t i o n s injure us, o r t h a t the i n s t i t u t i o n s that authorize what they
d o t r e a t us unjustly. A n d this m e a n s t h a t we must appeal to the
p r i n c i p l e s t h a t we w o u l d a c k n o w l e d g e in the original position.
A g a i n s t t h e s e p r i n c i p l e s n e i t h e r the intensity of feeling nor its being
s h a r e d by the m a j o r i t y c o u n t s for a n y t h i n g . O n the contract view,
t h e n , the g r o u n d s of liberty are c o m p l e t e l y separate from existing
p r e f e r e n c e s . I n d e e d , we m a y t h i n k of the principles of justice as an
a g r e e m e n t n o t t o t a k e i n t o a c c o u n t certain feelings when assessing
the c o n d u c t of o t h e r s . As I n o t e d before, these points are familiar
e l e m e n t s of the classical liberal d o c t r i n e . I have mentioned them
a g a i n in o r d e r to s h o w t h a t the i n d e t e r m i n a c y in the full theory of
the g o o d is n o c a u s e for o b j e c t i o n . It m a y leave a person unsettled
as t o w h a t to d o , since it c a n n o t p r o v i d e him with instructions as to
h o w t o d e c i d e . But since t h e aim of justice is n o t to maximize the
fulfilment of r a t i o n a l p l a n s , the c o n t e n t of justice is n o t in any way
affected. Of c o u r s e , it c a n n o t be denied that prevailing social
a t t i t u d e s tie t h e s t a t e s m a n ' s h a n d s . T h e convictions and passions of
t h e m a j o r i t y m a y m a k e liberty i m p o s s i b l e to m a i n t a i n . But bowing
t o t h e s e p r a c t i c a l necessities is a different thing from accepting the
justification t h a t if these feelings a r e s t r o n g e n o u g h and outweigh in
intensity a n y feelings t h a t m i g h t replace t h e m , they should carry the
d e c i s i o n . By c o n t r a s t , t h e c o n t r a c t view requires that we move
t o w a r d s just i n s t i t u t i o n s as speedily as the circumstances permit
irrespective of e x i s t i n g s e n t i m e n t s . A definite scheme of ideal
i n s t i t u t i o n s is e m b e d d e d in its principles of justice.
It is e v i d e n t from these c o n t r a s t s t h a t in justice as fairness the
c o n c e p t s of the r i g h t a n d t h e g o o d h a v e m a r k e d l y distinct features.
T h e s e differences arise f r o m the s t r u c t u r e of c o n t r a c t theory and the
p r i o r i t y of r i g h t a n d justice t h a t results. I d o n o t suggest, however,
t h a t t h e t e r m s ' r i g h t ' a n d ' g o o d ' ( a n d their relatives) are normally
used in w a y s t h a t reflect t h e s e d i s t i n c t i o n s . A l t h o u g h o u r ordinary
s p e e c h m a y t e n d to s u p p o r t the a c c o u n t of these concepts, this
c o r r e s p o n d e n c e is n o t n e e d e d for the correctness of the contract
d o c t r i n e . R a t h e r , t w o t h i n g s suffice. First, there is a way of mapping
o u r c o n s i d e r e d j u d g e m e n t s i n t o t h e t h e o r y of justice such that in
reflective e q u i l i b r i u m t h e c o u n t e r p a r t s of these convictions turn out
t o be t r u e , t o e x p r e s s j u d g e m e n t s t h a t w e can accept. And second,
o n c e w e u n d e r s t a n d t h e t h e o r y , w e can a c k n o w l e d g e these interpre-
John Ratvls 53
tations as suitable renderings of w h a t on reflection we now wish to
m a i n t a i n . Even t h o u g h we w o u l d not normally use these replace
ments, p e r h a p s because they are too c u m b e r s o m e , or would be
m i s u n d e r s t o o d , or w h a t e v e r , we are prepared to grant that they
cover in s u b s t a n c e all that w a n t s to be said. Certainly these
substitutes m a y n o t m e a n the same as the ordinary judgements with
which they are paired. H o w far this is the case is a question that 1
shall n o t e x a m i n e . M o r e o v e r , the replacements may indicate a shift
m o r e or less drastic from o u r initial moral judgements as they
existed p r i o r to philosophical reflection. Some changes anyway are
b o u n d to h a v e taken place as philosophical criticism and construc
tion lead us to revise a n d extend o u r views. But what counts
is w h e t h e r the c o n c e p t i o n of justice as fairness, better than any
other theory presently k n o w n to us, turns out to lead to true inter
pretations of o u r considered judgements, and provides a mode of
expression for w h a t we w a n t to affirm.
84. HEDONISM AS A M E T H O D OF CHOICE
Traditionally h e d o n i s m is interpreted in one of t w o ways: either as

the c o n t e n t i o n t h a t the sole intrinsic good is pleasurable feeling, or
as the psychological thesis that the only thing individuals strive for
is pleasure. H o w e v e r 1 shall u n d e r s t a n d hedonism in a third way,
namely, as trying to carry t h r o u g h the d o m i n a n t - e n d conception of
deliberation. It a t t e m p t s t o s h o w h o w a rational choice is always
possible, at least in principle. Although this effort fails, I shall
e x a m i n e it briefly for the light it t h r o w s u p o n the contrast between
utilitarianism a n d the contract doctrine.
I imagine the h e d o n i s t to reason as follows. First he thinks that, if
h u m a n life is to be guided by reason, there m u s t exist a d o m i n a n t
end. T h e r e is n o rational w a y to balance o u r competing aims
against o n e a n o t h e r e x c e p t as m e a n s to some higher end. Second, he
interprets pleasure n a r r o w l y as agreeable feeling. Pleasantness as an
a t t r i b u t e of feeling a n d sensation is t h o u g h t t o be the only plausible
c a n d i d a t e for the role of the d o m i n a n t end, a n d therefore it is the
only thing g o o d in itself. T h a t , so conceived, pleasure alone is good
is n o t p o s t u l a t e d s t r a i g h t w a y as a first principle and then held to
accord w i t h o u r considered judgements of value. Rather pleasure
is arrived at as the d o m i n a n t end by a process of elimination.
G r a n t i n g t h a t rational choices are possible, such an end must exist.
At the s a m e time this e n d c a n n o t be happiness or any objective
goal. T o avoid the circularity of the one and the inhumanity and
fanaticism of the other, the hedonist turns i n w a r d s . H e finds the
ultimate end in some definite quality of sensation or feeling
identifiable by introspection. We can suppose, if we like, t h a t
pleasantness can be ostensively defined as that attribute w h i c h is
c o m m o n t o the feelings and experiences t o w a r d s which we h a v e a
favourable attitude and wish to prolong, other things equal. T h u s ,
for purposes of illustration, one might say that pleasantness is t h a t
feature which is c o m m o n t o the experience of smelling roses, of
tasting chocolate, of requited affection, and so on, and analogously
14
for the opposite attribute of painfulness.
The hedonist maintains, then, that a rational agent k n o w s
exactly how to proceed in determining his good: he is to ascertain
which of the plans open to him promises the greatest net balance of
pleasure over pain. This plan defines his rational choice, the best
way to order his competing aims. T h e counting principles n o w
apply trivially, since all good things are h o m o g e n e o u s and therefore
comparable as means to the one end of pleasure. Of course these
assessments are plagued by uncertainties and lack of information,
and normally only the crudest estimates can be m a d e . Yet for
hedonism this is not a real difficulty: w h a t counts is that the
maximum of pleasure provides a clear idea of the good. W e are n o w
said to k n o w the one thing the pursuit of which gives rational form
to our life. Largely for these reasons Sidgwick thinks that pleasure
must be the single rational end t h a t is to guide deliberation.
It is important to note t w o points. First, w h e n pleasure is
regarded as a special attribute of feeling and sensation, it is
conceived as a definite measure on which calculations can be based.
By reckoning in terms of the intensity and duration of pleasant
experiences, the necessary computations can theoretically be m a d e .
The method of hedonism provides a first-person p r o c e d u r e of
choice as the standard of happiness does not. Second, t a k i n g
pleasure as the d o m i n a n t end does not imply that w e h a v e any
particular objective goals. W e find pleasure in the m o s t varied
activities and in the quest for any number of things. Therefore
aiming to maximize pleasurable feeling seems at least t o avoid the
appearance of fanaticism a n d inhumanity while still defining a
rational method for first-person choice. F u r t h e r m o r e , the t w o
traditional interpretations of hedonism are n o w easily accounted
for. If pleasure is indeed the only end the pursuit of which enables
us to identify rational plans, then surely pleasure w o u l d a p p e a r t o
be the sole intrinsic good, a n d so we w o u l d have arrived at the
principle of hedonism by an argument from the conditions of
rational deliberation. A variant of psychological hedonism also
John Rawls 55
follows: for a l t h o u g h it is going t o o far to say that rational conduct
would always consciously aim at pleasure, it would in any case be
regulated by a schedule of activities designed to maximize the net
balance of p l e a s u r a b l e feeling. Since it leads to the more familiar
interpretations, the thesis t h a t the pursuit of pleasure provides the
only rational m e t h o d of deliberation seems to be the fundamental
idea of h e d o n i s m .
It seems o b v i o u s t h a t h e d o n i s m fails to define a reasonable
d o m i n a n t end. W e need only note that once pleasure is conceived,
as it must be, in a sufficiently definite way so that its intensity and
duration can enter into the agent's calculations, then it is n o longer
16
plausible t h a t it s h o u l d be taken as the sole rational a i m . Surely
the preference for a certain attribute of feeling or sensation above
all else is as u n b a l a n c e d a n d i n h u m a n as an overriding desire to
maximize o n e ' s p o w e r over others or one's material wealth. N o
d o u b t it is for this reason t h a t Sidgwick is reluctant to grant that
pleasantness is a p a r t i c u l a r quality of feeling; yet he must concede
this if pleasure is to serve, as he w a n t s it to, as the ultimate criterion
to weigh ideal values such as knowledge, beauty, and friendship
1 7
against one a n o t h e r .
A n d t h e n t o o there is the fact t h a t there are different sorts of
agreeable feelings themselves i n c o m p a r a b l e , as well as the quantita
tive d i m e n s i o n s of pleasure, intensity and duration. H o w are we to
balance these w h e n they conflict? Are we to choose a brief but
intense p l e a s a n t experience of one kind of feeling over a less intense
but longer pleasant experience of another? Aristotle says that the
g o o d m a n if necessary lays d o w n his life for his friends, since he
prefers a s h o r t p e r i o d of intense pleasure to a long one of mild
enjoyment, a t w e l v e m o n t h of noble life to m a n y years of h u m d r u m
18
e x i s t e n c e . But h o w does he decide this? Further, as Santayana
observes, w e m u s t settle the relative w o r t h of pleasure and pain.
W h e n Petrarch says t h a t a t h o u s a n d pleasures are not w o r t h one
pain, he a d o p t s a s t a n d a r d for c o m p a r i n g them that is more basic
t h a n either. T h e p e r s o n himself m u s t m a k e this decision, taking
into a c c o u n t the full range of inclinations a n d desires, present
a n d future. Clearly w e have m a d e n o advance beyond deliberate
rationality. T h e p r o b l e m of a plurality of ends arises all over again
19
within the class of subjective f e e l i n g s .
It m a y be objected t h a t in economics and decision theory these
p r o b l e m s are o v e r c o m e . But this contention is based on a misunder
s t a n d i n g . In the t h e o r y of d e m a n d , for example, it is assumed that
the c o n s u m e r ' s preferences satisfy various postulates: they define a
complete o r d e r i n g over the set of alternatives and exhibit the
properties of convexity and continuity, a n d the like. Given these
assumptions, it can be shown that a utility function exists w h i c h
matches these preferences in the sense that one alternative is chosen
over another if and only if the value of the function for the selected
alternative is greater. This function characterizes the individual's
choices, w h a t he in fact prefers, granted t h a t his preferences meet
certain stipulations. It asserts nothing at all a b o u t h o w a p e r s o n
arranges his decisions in such a coherent order to begin w i t h , n o r
clearly can it claim to be a first-person procedure of choice t h a t
someone might reasonably follow, since it only records the
outcome of his deliberations. At best the principles that economists
have supposed the choices of rational individuals to satisfy can be
presented as guidelines for us to consider w h e n w e m a k e o u r
decisions. But so understood, these criteria are just the principles of
rational choice (or their analogues) and we are back once again
20
with deliberative r a t i o n a l i t y .
It seems indisputable, then, that there is n o d o m i n a n t end the
pursuit of which accords with our considered judgements of value.
The inclusive end of realizing a rational plan of life is an entirely
different thing. But the failure of hedonism to provide a rational
procedure of choice should occasion n o surprise. Wittgenstein
showed that it is a mistake to postulate certain special experiences
to explain h o w we distinguish memories from imaginings, beliefs
from suppositions, and so o n for other mental acts. Similarly, it is
antecedently unlikely that certain kinds of agreeable feeling can
define a unit of account the use of which explains the possibility of
rational deliberation. Neither pleasure n o r any other d e t e r m i n a t e
21
end can play the role that the hedonist would assign i t .
N o w philosophers have supposed t h a t characteristic experiences
exist and guide o u r mental life for many different reasons. So while
it seems a simple matter to show t h a t h e d o n i s m gets us n o w h e r e ,
the important thing is to see why one might be driven to resort t o
such a desperate expedient. I have already noted one possible
reason: the desire t o n a r r o w d o w n the scope of purely preferential
choice in determining our good. In a teleological t h e o r y a n y
vagueness or ambiguity in the conception of the good is transferred
to that of the right. Hence if the good of individuals is s o m e t h i n g
that, so to speak, is just up to t h e m t o decide as individuals, so
likewise within certain limits is that w h i c h is right. But it is n a t u r a l
to think that w h a t is right is not a matter of mere preference, a n d
therefore one tries t o find a definite conception of the g o o d .
There is, however, a n o t h e r reason: a teleological theory needs a
way to compare the diverse goods of different individuals so t h a t
John Raivls 57
the total g o o d can be m a x i m i z e d . H o w can these assessments be
made? Even if certain e n d s serve to organize the plans of individuals
taken singly, they d o n o t suffice to define a conception of right. It
would a p p e a r , t h e n , t h a t the turn inwards to the standard of
agreeable feeling is an a t t e m p t to find a c o m m o n denominator
a m o n g the plurality of persons, an interpersonal currency as it
were, by m e a n s of which the social ordering can be specified. And
this suggestion is all the m o r e compelling if it is already maintained
that this s t a n d a r d is the aim of each person to the extent that he is
rational.
By way of conclusion, 1 should not say that a teleological
doctrine is necessarily driven to some form of hedonism in order to
define a c o h e r e n t t h e o r y . Yet it does seem that the tendency in this
direction has a certain n a t u r a l n e s s . H e d o n i s m is, one might say, the
s y m p t o m a t i c drift of teleological theories insofar as they try to
formulate a clear a n d applicable m e t h o d of moral reasoning. The
weakness of h e d o n i s m reflects the impossibility of defining an
a p p r o p r i a t e definite e n d t o be maximized. And this suggests that
the structure of teleological doctrines is radically misconceived:
from the start they relate the right and the good in the wrong way.
We should n o t a t t e m p t to give form to our life by first looking to
the good independently defined. It is not our aims that primarily
reveal o u r n a t u r e but r a t h e r the principles that we would acknowl
edge to govern the b a c k g r o u n d conditions under which these aims
are to be formed a n d the m a n n e r in which they are to be pursued.
For the self is prior to the ends which are affirmed by it; even a
d o m i n a n t end m u s t be chosen from a m o n g n u m e r o u s possibilities.
There is n o w a y to get beyond deliberative rationality. We should
therefore reverse the relation between the right and the good
proposed by teleological doctrines a n d view the right as prior. The
moral theory is then developed by w o r k i n g in the opposite
direction.
NOTES
On this point see Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics, pp. 416 f.

^ See J. S. Mill, Utilitarianism, ch. 5, last two paras.
For Bentham see The Principles of International Law, Essay I, in The
Works of Jeremy Bentham, ed. John Bowring (Edinburgh, 1838-43),
vol. II, p. 537; for Edgeworth see Mathematical Psychics, pp. 52-6, and
also the first pages of T h e Pure Theory of Taxation', Economic
Journal, vol. 7 (1897), where the same argument is presented more
briefly.
Bentham, The Principles of Morals and Legislation, ch. I, sec. IV.
5
The priority of right is a central feature of Kant's ethics. See, for
example, The Critique of Practical Reason, ch. II, bk I of pt I, especially
pp. 62-5 of vol. 5 of Kants Gesammelte Schriften, Preussische
Akademie der Wissenschaften (Berlin, 1913). A clear statement is to
be found in 'Theory and Practice' (to abbreviate the title), Political
Writings, pp. 67 f.
6
'Of the Original Contract', Essays: Moral, Political, and Literary, ed.
T. H. Green and T. H. Grose, vol. 1 (London, 1875), pp. 454 f.
7
See, for example, W. D. Ross, The Right and the Good (Oxford, The
Clarendon Press, 1930), pp. 21, 26-8, 35, 57 f. Similarly, Leibniz in
'On the Ultimate Origin of Things' (1697) speaks of the law of justice
which 'declares that each one [each individual] participate in the
perfection of the universe and in a happiness of his own in proportion
to his own virtue and to the good will he entertains toward the common
good.' Leibniz, ed. P. P. Wiener (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons,
1951), p. 353.
s
See F. H. Knight, The Ethics of Competition (New York, Harper and
Brothers, 1935), pp. 54-7.
9
See Knight, ibid., p. 56 n.
1 0
Here I borrow from Joel Feinberg, Doing and Deserving (Princeton,
Princeton University Press, 1970), pp. 64 f.
11
See H. L. A. Hart, The Concept of Law (Oxford, The Clarendon Press,
1961), p. 39; and Feinberg, Doing and Deserving, ch. 5.
1 2
On this point, see Feinberg, ibid., pp. 62, 69 n.
1 3
See the discussion in R. D. Luce and Howard Raiffa, Games and
Decisions (New York, John Wiley and Sons, 1957), pp. 278-306.
1 4
The illustration is from C. D. Broad, Five Types of Ethical Theory
(London, Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1930), pp. 186 f.
15
The Methods of Ethics, 7th edn (London, Macmillan, 1907),
pp. 405-7,479.
1 6
As Broad observes in Five Types of Ethical Theory, p. 187.
In Methods of Ethics, p. 127, Sidgwick denies that pleasure is a
measurable quality of feeling independent of its relation from volition.
This is the view of some writers, he says, but one he cannot accept. He
defines pleasure 'as a feeling which, when experienced by intelligent
beings, is at least apprehended as desirable or - in cases of comparison -
preferable'. It would seem that the view he here rejects is the one he
relies upon later as the final criterion to introduce coherence among
ends. See pp. 405-7, 479. Otherwise the hedonist method of choice no
longer provides instructions that can be followed.
18
Nicomachean Ethics, 1169al7-26.
19
The Life of Reason in Common Sense (New York, Charles Scribner's,
Sons 1905), pp. 237 f.
Thus to the objection that price theory must fail because it seeks to
predict the unpredictable, the decisions of persons with free will, Walras
says: 'Actually, we have never attempted to predict decisions made
under conditions of perfect freedom; we have only tried to express the
John Rawls 59
effects of such decisions in terms of mathematics. In our theory each
trader may be assumed to determine his utility or want curves as he
pleases.' Elements of Pure Economics, trans. William Jaffe (Home-
wood, 111., Richard D. Irwin, 1954), p. 256. See also P. A. Samuelson,
Foundations of Economic Analysis (Cambridge, Harvard University
Press, 1947), the remarks pp. 9 0 - 2 , 97 f; and R.D. Luce and Howard
Raiffa, Games and Decisions (New York, John Wiley and Sons, 1957),
pp. 1 6 , 2 1 - 4 , 3 8 .
See the Philosophical Investigations (Oxford, Basil Blackwell, 1953).
The argument against postulating special experiences is made through
out for many different cases. For the application to pleasure, see the
remarks of G. E. M. Anscombe, Intention (Oxford, Basil Blackwell,
1957). Anscombe says: 'We might adapt a remark of Wittgenstein's
about meaning and say "Pleasure cannot be an impression; for no
impression could have the consequences of pleasure." They [the British
Empiricists] were saying that something which they thought of as like a
particular tickle or itch was quite obviously the point of doing anything
whatsoever' (p. 77). See also Gilbert Ryle, 'Pleasure', Proceedings of the
Aristotelian Society, supp. vol. 28 (1954), and Dilemmas (Cambridge,
The University Press, 1954), ch. 4; Anthony Kenny, Action, Emotion
and Will (London, Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1963), ch. 6; and
C. C. W. Taylor, 'Pleasure', Analysis, supp. vol. (1963). These studies
present what seems to be the more correct view. In the text I try to
explain the motivation from the standpoint of moral philosophy of the
so-called British Empiricist conception of pleasure. That it is fallacious I
pretty much take for granted, as the writers mentioned have, I believe,
shown.
3
51
Ronald Dworkin: Liberalism '
. . . Is there a thread of principle t h a t runs t h r o u g h the core liberal

positions, a n d that distinguishes these from the c o r r e s p o n d i n g
conservative positions? There is a familiar answer t o this question
that is mistaken, but mistaken in an illuminating w a y . T h e politics
of democracies, according to this answer, recognizes several
independent constitutive political ideals, the most i m p o r t a n t of
which are the ideals of liberty a n d equality. Unfortunately, liberty
and equality often conflict: sometimes the only effective m e a n s t o
p r o m o t e equality require some limitation of liberty, and sometimes
the consequences of p r o m o t i n g liberty are detrimental t o equality.
In these cases, good government consists in the best c o m p r o m i s e
between the competing ideals, b u t different politicians a n d citizens
will make t h a t compromise differently. Liberals tend relatively to
favour equality more a n d liberty less t h a n conservatives d o , a n d the
core set of liberal positions I described is the result of striking the
balance that way.
This account offers a theory a b o u t w h a t liberalism is. Liberalism
shares the same constitutive principles with many other political
theories, including conservatism, but is distinguished from these by
attaching different relative importance t o different principles. T h e
theory therefore leaves r o o m , o n the spectrum it describes, for the
radical w h o cares even more for equality and less for liberty than the
liberal, and therefore stands even further away from the e x t r e m e
conservative. T h e liberal becomes the m a n in the middle, w h i c h
explains w h y liberalism is so often n o w considered wish-washy, an
untenable compromise between t w o more forthright positions.
N o d o u b t this description of American politics could b e m a d e
* Reprinted from Liberalism by Ronald Dworkin, in Public and Private

Morality by Stuart Hampshire (ed.), 1978, by permission of Cambridge
University Press.
\
Ronald Dworkin 61
m o r e sophisticated. It might m a k e r o o m for other independent
constitutive ideals shared by liberalism and its o p p o n e n t s , like
stability or security, so that the compromises involved in particular
decisions are m a d e o u t to be m o r e complex. But if the nerve of the
theory r e m a i n s the competition between liberty and equality as
constitutive ideals, then the theory c a n n o t succeed. . . . It seems t o
apply, at best, to only a limited n u m b e r of the political
controversies it tries to explain. It is designed for economic
controversies, b u t is either irrelevant or misleading in the case of
censorship a n d p o r n o g r a p h y , a n d indeed, in the criminal law
generally.
But there is a m u c h more i m p o r t a n t defect in this explanation. It
assumes t h a t liberty is m e a s u r a b l e so that, if t w o political decisions
each invades the liberty of a citizen, we can sensibly say that o n e
decision takes m o r e liberty a w a y from him than the other. T h a t
a s s u m p t i o n is necessary, because otherwise the postulate, t h a t
liberty is a constitutive ideal of both the liberal and conservative
political structures, c a n n o t be maintained. Even firm conservatives
are c o n t e n t t h a t their liberty to drive as they wish (for example t o
drive u p t o w n on Lexington Avenue) m a y be invaded for the sake,
not of s o m e i m p o r t a n t c o m p e t i n g political ideal, but only for
m a r g i n a l gains in convenience or orderly traffic p a t t e r n s . But since
traffic regulation plainly involves some loss of liberty, the conserva
tive c a n n o t be said t o value liberty as such unless he is able to s h o w
t h a t , for some reason, less liberty is lost by traffic regulation than by
restrictions on, for e x a m p l e , free speech, or the liberty to sell for
prices others are willing to pay, or w h a t e v e r other liberty he takes
to be f u n d a m e n t a l .
But t h a t is precisely w h a t he c a n n o t s h o w , because we d o n o t
have a concept of liberty t h a t is quantifiable in the way t h a t
d e m o n s t r a t i o n w o u l d require. H e c a n n o t say, for example, t h a t
traffic regulations interfere less with w h a t most men and w o m e n
w a n t t o d o t h a n w o u l d a law forbidding them t o speak o u t in
favour of C o m m u n i s m , or a law requiring them n o t t o fix their
prices as they think best. M o s t people care m o r e a b o u t driving t h a n
s p e a k i n g for C o m m u n i s m , a n d have n o occasion to fix prices even
if they w a n t t o . I d o n o t m e a n t h a t we can m a k e n o sense of the idea
of f u n d a m e n t a l liberties, like freedom of speech. But we c a n n o t
argue in their favour by s h o w i n g t h a t they protect m o r e liberty,
t a k e n t o be an even roughly measurable c o m m o d i t y , t h a n does the
right t o drive as w e wish; the fundamental liberties are i m p o r t a n t
because w e value s o m e t h i n g else t h a t they protect. But if t h a t is so,
t h e n w e c a n n o t explain the difference between liberal a n d conserva-
62 Liberalism
tive political positions by supposing that the latter protect the
commodity of liberty, valued for its o w n sake, m o r e effectively t h a n
1
the former.
It might n o w be said, however, that the other half of the
liberty-equality explanation may be salvaged. Even if w e c a n n o t
say that conservatives value liberty, as such, m o r e than liberals, we
can still say that they value equality less, a n d that the different
political positions may be explained in t h a t w a y . Conservatives
tend to discount the importance of equality w h e n set beside other
goals, like general prosperity or even security; while liberals, in
contrast, value equality relatively more, a n d radicals m o r e still.
Once again, it is a p p a r e n t that this explanation is tailored to the
economic controversies, and fits poorly with the n o n - e c o n o m i c
controversies. Once again, however, its defects are m o r e general
and more i m p o r t a n t . We must identify m o r e clearly the sense in
which equality could be a constitutive ideal for either liberals or
conservatives. Once we d o so we shall see that it is misleading t o
say that the conservative values equality, in that sense, less t h a n
the liberal. W e shall w a n t to say, instead, that he has a different
conception of w h a t equality requires.
We must distinguish between t w o different principles t h a t t a k e
2
equality to be a political i d e a l . T h e first requires t h a t the
government treat all those in its charge as equals, that is, as entitled
to its equal concern a n d respect. T h a t is n o t an empty r e q u i r e m e n t :
most of us do not suppose that we must, as individuals, t r e a t o u r
neighbour's children with the same concern as o u r o w n , or treat
everyone we meet with the same respect. It is nevertheless plausible
to think that any government should treat all its citizens as equals in
that way. The second principle requires that the g o v e r n m e n t treat
all those in its charge equally in the distribution of some resource of
opportunity, or at least w o r k to secure the state of affairs in w h i c h
they all are equal or m o r e nearly equal in t h a t respect. It is, of
course, conceded by everyone t h a t the government c a n n o t m a k e
everyone equal in every respect, b u t people d o disagree a b o u t h o w
far government should try t o secure equality in some particular
resource; for example, in monetary w e a l t h .
If we look only at the economic-political controversies, then w e
might well be justified in saying that liberals w a n t m o r e equality
in the sense of the second principle t h a n conservatives d o . But it
w o u l d be a mistake t o conclude t h a t they value equality in the sense
of the first and more fundamental principle any m o r e highly. I say
t h a t the first principle is more fundamental because I assume that,
for both liberals a n d conservatives, the first is constitutive a n d the
Ronald Dworkin 63
second derivative. Sometimes treating people equally is the only
way to treat them as equals; but sometimes not. Suppose a limited
a m o u n t of emergency relief is available for t w o equally populous
areas injured by floods; treating the citizens of both areas as equals
requires giving m o r e aid to the more seriously devastated area
rather t h a n splitting the available funds equally. The conservative
believes t h a t in m a n y other, less a p p a r e n t , cases treating citizens
equally a m o u n t s to n o t treating them as equals. He might concede,
for e x a m p l e , t h a t positive discrimination in university admissions
will w o r k to m a k e the t w o races more nearly equal in wealth, but
nevertheless m a i n t a i n that such p r o g r a m m e s do not treat black
and white university applicants as equals. If he is a utilitarian he
will have a similar, t h o u g h m u c h more general, argument against
any redistribution of wealth t h a t reduces economic efficiency. H e
will say t h a t the only way t o treat people as equals is to maximize
the average welfare of all m e m b e r s of c o m m u n i t y , counting gains
and losses to all in the same scales, a n d that a free m a r k e t is the
only, or best, i n s t r u m e n t for achieving that goal. This is not
(I think) a g o o d a r g u m e n t , but if the conservative w h o makes it is
sincere he c a n n o t be said to have discounted the importance of
treating all citizens as equals.
So w e must reject the simple idea t h a t liberalism consists in a
distinctive weighting between constitutive principles of equality
a n d liberty. But o u r discussion of the idea of equality suggests a
m o r e fruitful line. I assume (as I said) t h a t there is broad agreement
within m o d e r n politics that the g o v e r n m e n t must treat all its
citizens with equal concern and respect. 1 d o not mean to deny the
great p o w e r of prejudice in, for example, American politics. But
few citizens, a n d even fewer politicians, would n o w admit to
political convictions t h a t contradict the abstract principle of equal
concern a n d respect. Different people hold, however, as o u r
discussion m a d e plain, very different conceptions of w h a t that
abstract principle requires in particular cases.
II
W h a t does it m e a n for the g o v e r n m e n t t o treat its citizens as_e_quals?

T h a t is, I think, the same question as the question of w h a t it means
for the g o v e r n m e n t to treat all its citizens as free, or as independent,
o r w i t h equal dignity. In any case, it is a question t h a t has been
central to political theory at least since Kant.
It m a y be a n s w e r e d in t w o fundamentally different ways. T h e
64 Liberalism
first supposes that government m u s t be neutral on w h a t might be
' called the question of the good life. T h e second supposes t h a t
government cannot be neutral on t h a t question, because it c a n n o t
<* treat its citizens as equal h u m a n beings w i t h o u t a theory of w h a t
h u m a n beings ought to be. I must explain that distinction further.
Each person follows a more-or-less articulate conception of w h a t
gives value to life. The scholar w h o values a life of c o n t e m p l a t i o n
has such a conception; so does the television-watching, beer-
drinking citizen w h o is fond of saying 'This is the life', t h o u g h of
course he has thought less a b o u t the issue and is less able t o
describe or defend his conception.
, T h e first theory of equality supposes that political decisions must
j s be,"so far as is possible, independent of any particular conception of
the good life, or of w h a t gives value t o life. Since the citizens of a
i society differ in their conceptions, the government does n o t treat
them as equals if it prefers one conception t o a n o t h e r , either
because the officials believe t h a t one is intrinsically superior, or
because one is held by the more n u m e r o u s or m o r e powerful g r o u p .
T h e second theory argues, on the contrary, t h a t the content of equal
treatment cannot be independent of some theory a b o u t the g o o d for
m a n or the good of life, because treating a person as an equal means
treating him the way the^good or truly wise person w o u l d wish
to be treated. G o o d government consists in fostering or at least
recognizing good lives; treatment as an equal consists in treating
each person as if he were desirous of leading the life t h a t is in fact
good, at least so far as this is possible.
This distinction is very abstract, b u t it is also very i m p o r t a n t . I
shall n o w argue t h a t liberalism takes, as its constitutive political
morality, the first conception of equality. I shall try to s u p p o r t that
claim in this way. In the next section of this essay I shall s h o w h o w
it is plausible, a n d even likely, t h a t a thoughtful person w h o
accepted the first conception of equality w o u l d , given the e c o n o m i c
and political circumstances of America in the last several decades,
reach the positions I identified as the familiar core of liberal
positions. If so, then the hypothesis satisfies the second of the
conditions I described for a successful theory. In the following
section I shall try to satisfy the third condition by s h o w i n g h o w it is
plausible and even likely that s o m e o n e w h o held a particular
version of the second theory of equality w o u l d reach w h a t are
normally regarded as the core of American conservative positions. I
say *a particular version o f because American conservatism does
not follow automatically from rejecting the liberal t h e o r y of
equality. T h e second (or non-liberal) theory of equality h o l d s
Ronald Dworkin 65
merely t h a t the t r e a t m e n t government owes citizens is at least partly
determined by s o m e conception of the g o o d life. M a n y political
theories s h a r e t h a t thesis, including theories as far apart as, for
e x a m p l e , A m e r i c a n conservatism and various forms of socialism or
M a r x i s m , t h o u g h these will of course differ in the conception of the
good life they a d o p t , and hence in the political institutions and
decisions they e n d o r s e . In this respect, liberalism is decidedly not
some c o m p r o m i s e or half-way house between more forceful
positions, but stands on o n e side of an i m p o r t a n t line that
distinguishes it from all competitors taken as a group.
I shall n o t provide a r g u m e n t s in this essay that my theory of
liberalism meets the first condition 1 described - that the theory
must provide a political morality t h a t it makes sense to suppose
people in o u r culture h o l d - t h o u g h I think it plain that the theory
does meet this condition. T h e fourth condition requires that a
theory be as a b s t r a c t a n d general as the first three conditions allow.
I d o u b t there will be objections to my theory on that account.
HI
I n o w define a liberal as s o m e o n e w h o holds the first, or liberal,

theory of w h a t equality requires. Suppose that a liberal is asked
to found a n e w state. H e is required to dictate its constitution and
fundamental institutions. H e must p r o p o s e a general theory
of political distribution, t h a t is, a theory of h o w whatever the
c o m m u n i t y has to assign, by w a y of goods or resources o r
o p p o r t u n i t i e s , s h o u l d be assigned. H e will arrive initially at
s o m e t h i n g like this principle of rough equality: resources and
o p p o r t u n i t i e s s h o u l d be distributed, so far as possible, equally, so
that roughly the same share of whatever is available is devoted
to satisfying the ambitions of each. Any other general aim of
distribution will a s s u m e either that the fate of some people should
be of greater concern t h a n t h a t of others, or that the ambitions or
talents of s o m e are m o r e w o r t h y , and should be supported m o r e
generously o n t h a t a c c o u n t .
S o m e o n e m a y object that this principle of rough equality is unfair
because it ignores the fact that people have different tastes, and t h a t
some of these are m o r e expensive to satisfy t h a n others, so that, for
e x a m p l e , the m a n w h o prefers c h a m p a g n e will need m o r e funds if
he is n o t to be frustrated t h a n the m a n satisfied with beer. But the
liberal m a y reply t h a t tastes as to which people differ are, by a n d
large, n o t afflictions, like diseases, but are rather cultivated, in
66 Liberalism
accordance with each person's theory of w h a t his life should be
3
like. The most effective neutrality, therefore, requires that the
same share be devoted to each, so that the choice between
expensive and less expensive tastes can be m a d e by each person for
himself, with no sense that his overall share will be enlarged by
choosing a more expensive life, or that, whatever he chooses, his
choice will subsidize those w h o have chosen more expensively.
But w h a t does the principle of rough equality of distribution
require in practice? If all resources were distributed directly by the
government through grants of food, housing, and so forth; if every
opportunity citizens have were provided directly by the g o v e r n m e n t
through the provisions of civil and criminal law; if every citizen h a d
exactly the same talents; if every citizen started his life with no
more than what any other citizen had at the start; a n d if every
citizen had exactly the same theory of the good life a n d hence
exactly the same scheme of preferences as every other citizen,
including preferences between productive activity of different forms
and leisure, then the principle of rough equality of t r e a t m e n t could
be satisfied simply by equal distributions of everything t o be
distributed and by civil and criminal laws of universal application.
Government would arrange for production t h a t maximized the mix
of goods, including jobs and leisure, that everyone favoured,
distributing the product equally.
Of course, n o n e of these conditions of similarity h o l d s . But the
moral relevance of different sorts of diversity are very different, as
may be shown by the following exercise. Suppose all the conditions
of similarity I mentioned did hold except the last: citizens have
different theories of the g o o d a n d hence different preferences. T h e y
therefore disagree a b o u t w h a t p r o d u c t the raw materials and
labour and savings of the c o m m u n i t y should be used to p r o d u c e ,
a n d about which activities should b e prohibited or regulated so as
t o make others possible or easier. T h e Hberal, as lawgiver, n o w
needs mechanisms to satisfy the principles of equal t r e a t m e n t in
spite of these disagreements. H e will decide t h a t there are n o better
mechanisms available, as general political institutions, t h a n t h e t w o
main institutions of o u r o w n political e c o n o m y : the e c o n o m i c
market, for decisions a b o u t w h a t goods shall be p r o d u c e d a n d h o w
they shall be distributed, and representative democracy, for collec
tive decisions a b o u t w h a t conduct shall be prohibited or regulated
so that other conduct might be m a d e possible or convenient. Each
of these familiar institutions m a y be expected t o provide a" m o r e
egalitarian division t h a n any other general a r r a n g e m e n t . T h e
market, if it can be m a d e to function efficiently, will determine for
Ronald Dworkin 67
each p r o d u c t a price t h a t reflects the cost in resources of material,
labour a n d capital t h a t might have been applied to produce
something different t h a t s o m e o n e else w a n t s . T h a t cost determines,
for a n y o n e w h o c o n s u m e s t h a t p r o d u c t , h o w much his account
should be charged in c o m p u t i n g the egalitarian division of social
resources. It provides a measure of h o w much more his account
should be charged for a house t h a n a b o o k , a n d for one book rather
than a n o t h e r . T h e m a r k e t will also provide, for the labourer, a
measure of h o w m u c h should be credited to his account for his
choice of p r o d u c t i v e activity over leisure, and for one activity rather
than a n o t h e r . It will tell us, t h r o u g h the price it puts on his labour,
h o w m u c h he w o u l d gain or lose by his decision to pursue one
career r a t h e r than a n o t h e r . These measurements m a k e a citizen's
o w n distribution a function of the personal preferences of others as
well as of his o w n , a n d it is the sum of these personal preferences
that fixes the true cost to the c o m m u n i t y of meeting his own
preferences for g o o d s a n d activities. T h e egalitarian distribution,
which requires t h a t the cost of satisfying one person's preferences
should as far as is possible be equal to the cost of satisfying
a n o t h e r ' s , c a n n o t be enforced unless those measurements are made.
W e are familiar w i t h the anti-egalitarian consequences of free
enterprise in practice; it may therefore seem paradoxical that the
liberal as lawgiver should choose a m a r k e t economy for reasons of
equality r a t h e r t h a n efficiency. But, under the special condition that
people differ only in preferences for goods and activities, the
m a r k e t is m o r e egalitarian t h a n any alternative of comparable
generality. T h e m o s t plausible alternative would be t o allow
decisions of p r o d u c t i o n , investment, price a n d wage to be made by
elected officials in a socialist economy. But w h a t principles should
officials use in m a k i n g those decisions? The liberal might tell them
to mimic the decisions t h a t a m a r k e t w o u l d make if it was working
efficiently u n d e r p r o p e r competition a n d full knowledge. This
mimicry w o u l d be, in practice, much less efficient than an actual
m a r k e t w o u l d be. In any case, unless the liberal had reason to think
it w o u l d be m u c h m o r e efficient, he w o u l d have good reason to
reject it. Any minimally efficient mimicking of a hypothetical
m a r k e t w o u l d require invasions of privacy to determine w h a t
decisions individuals w o u l d m a k e if forced actually to pay for their
investment, c o n s u m p t i o n a n d e m p l o y m e n t decisions at market
rates, a n d this i n f o r m a t i o n gathering w o u l d be, in many other
ways, m u c h m o r e expensive t h a n an actual market. Inevitably,
m o r e o v e r , the a s s u m p t i o n s officials m a k e a b o u t h o w people would
behave in a hypothetical m a r k e t reflect the officials' o w n beliefs
^ Liberalism
a b o u t h o w p e o p l e s h o u l d b e h a v e . So there w o u l d be, for the liberal,
little t o g a m a n d m u c h t o lose in a socialist economy in which
officials w e r e a s k e d t o m i m i c a h y p o t h e t i c a l market.
But a n y o t h e r i n s t r u c t i o n s w o u l d be a direct violation of the
liberal t h e o r y of w h a t e q u a l i t y requires, because if a decision is
m a d e t o p r o d u c e a n d sell g o o d s at a price below the price a market
w o u l d fix, t h e n t h o s e w h o prefer those goods are, pro tanto,
receiving m o r e t h a n an e q u a l s h a r e of the resources of the
c o m m u n i t y at t h e e x p e n s e of t h o s e w h o w o u l d prefer some other
use of the r e s o u r c e s . S u p p o s e the limited d e m a n d for books,
m a t c h e d a g a i n s t the d e m a n d for c o m p e t i n g uses for wood-pulp,
w o u l d fix t h e p r i c e of b o o k s a t a p o i n t higher than the socialist
m a n a g e r s of the e c o n o m y will c h a r g e ; those w h o want books are
h a v i n g less c h a r g e d t o t h e i r a c c o u n t t h a n the egalitarian principle
w o u l d r e q u i r e . It m i g h t be said t h a t in a socialist economy books
a r e s i m p l y v a l u e d m o r e , b e c a u s e they are inherently more worthy
uses of social r e s o u r c e s , q u i t e a p a r t from the p o p u l a r demand for
b o o k s . But t h e liberal t h e o r y of e q u a l i t y rules o u t that appeal to the
i n h e r e n t v a l u e of o n e t h e o r y of w h a t is g o o d in life.
In a society in w h i c h p e o p l e differed only in preferences, then,
a m a r k e t w o u l d be f a v o u r e d for its egalitarian consequences.
I n e q u a l i t y of m o n e t a r y w e a l t h w o u l d be the consequence only of
t h e fact t h a t s o m e preferences are m o r e expensive than others,
i n c l u d i n g t h e p r e f e r e n c e for leisure t i m e r a t h e r than the most
l u c r a t i v e p r o d u c t i v e activity. B u t w e m u s t n o w return to the real
w o r l d . In t h e a c t u a l society for which the liberal must construct
political i n s t i t u t i o n s , t h e r e a r e all the o t h e r differences. Talents are
n o t d i s t r i b u t e d e q u a l l y , s o t h e decision of o n e person to work in a
factory r a t h e r t h a n a l a w firm, o r n o t t o w o r k at all, will be
g o v e r n e d in l a r g e p a r t by his abilities r a t h e r t h a n his preferences for
w o r k o r b e t w e e n w o r k a n d leisure. T h e institutions of wealth,
w h i c h a l l o w p e o p l e t o d i s p o s e of w h a t they receive by gift,
m e a n t h a t c h i l d r e n of the successful will s t a r t with more wealth
t h a n t h e c h i l d r e n of t h e unsuccessful. S o m e people have special
n e e d s , b e c a u s e t h e y a r e h a n d i c a p p e d ; their h a n d i c a p will not only
d i s a b l e t h e m f r o m t h e m o s t p r o d u c t i v e a n d lucrative employment,
b u t will i n c a p a c i t a t e t h e m from u s i n g t h e proceeds of whatever
e m p l o y m e n t t h e y find as efficiently, s o t h a t they will need more
t h a n t h o s e w h o a r e n o t h a n d i c a p p e d t o satisfy identical ambitions.
T h e s e i n e q u a l i t i e s will h a v e g r e a t , often catastrophic, effects on
t h e d i s t r i b u t i o n t h a t a m a r k e t e c o n o m y will provide. But, unlike
differences in p r e f e r e n c e s , t h e differences these inequalities make
a r e indefensible a c c o r d i n g t o t h e liberal c o n c e p t i o n of equality. It is
Ronald Dworkin 69
obviously o b n o x i o u s t o the liberal conception, for example, that
s o m e o n e s h o u l d h a v e m o r e of w h a t the c o m m u n i t y as a whole has
to distribute because he or his father h a d superior skill or luck. T h e
liberal lawgiver therefore faces a difficult task. His conception of
equality requires an e c o n o m i c system that produces certain ine
qualities (those t h a t reflect t h e true differential costs of goods and
opportunities) b u t n o t others (those that follow from differences in
ability, inheritance, etc.). T h e m a r k e t produces both the required
and t h e forbidden inequalities, a n d there is no alternative system
that can be relied u p o n t o p r o d u c e the former without the latter.
T h e liberal m u s t be tempted, therefore, t o a reform of the market
t h r o u g h a scheme of redistribution that leaves its pricing system
relatively intact b u t sharply limits, at least, the inequalities in
welfare t h a t his initial principle prohibits. N o solution will seem
perfect. T h e liberal m a y find the best answer in a scheme of welfare
rights financed t h r o u g h redistributive income and inheritance taxes
of the conventional sort, which redistributes just to the Rawlsian
point, that is, t o the point at which the worst-off g r o u p would be
h a r m e d r a t h e r than benefited by further transfers. In that case, he
will r e m a i n a reluctant capitalist, believing t h a t a market economy
so reformed is superior, from t h e s t a n d p o i n t of his conception of
equality, t o any practical socialist alternative. O r he may believe
that t h e redistribution that is possible in a capitalist economy will
be so i n a d e q u a t e , o r will be purchased at the cost of such
inefficiency, t h a t it is better t o proceed in a more radical way, by
substituting socialist for m a r k e t decisions over a large part of the
e c o n o m y , a n d then relying on t h e political process to insute that
prices a r e set in a m a n n e r a t least roughly consistent with his
conception of equality. In t h a t case he will be a reluctant socialist,
w h o a c k n o w l e d g e s t h e egalitarian defects of socialism but counts
them as less severe t h a n the practical alternatives. In either case, he
chooses a mixed e c o n o m i c system - either redistributive capitalism
or limited socialism - n o t in order t o compromise antagonistic
ideals of efficiency a n d equality, b u t t o achieve the best practical
realization of the d e m a n d s of equality itself.
Let us assume t h a t in this m a n n e r t h e liberal either refines or
partially retracts his original selection of a market economy. H e
must n o w consider t h e second of the t w o familiar institutions he
first selected, w h i c h is representative democracy. Democracy is
justified because it enforces the right of each person t o respect a n d
concern as an individual; b u t in practice the decisions of a
d e m o c r a t i c m a j o r i t y may often violate that right, according to the
liberal t h e o r y of what the right requires. Suppose a legislature
70 Liberalism
elected by a majority decides t o m a k e criminal s o m e act (like
speaking in favour of an u n p o p u l a r political p o s i t i o n , o r participat
ing in eccentric sexual practices) n o t because the act deprives others
of opportunities they w a n t , b u t because the majority disapproves of
those views o r that sexual morality. T h e political decision, in other
w o r d s , reflects n o t simply s o m e a c c o m m o d a t i o n of t h e personal
preferences of everyone, in such a w a y as t o m a k e the opportunities
of all as nearly equal as may b e , b u t the d o m i n a t i o n of one set of
external preferences, that is, preferences people h a v e a b o u t what
5
others shall d o or h a v e . T h e decision invades rather than enforces
the right of citizens t o be treated as equals.
H o w can the liberal protect citizens against that sort of violation
of their fundamental right? It will n o t d o for the liberal simply t o
instruct legislators, in some constitutional e x h o r t a t i o n , t o disregard
the external preferences of their constituents. Citizens will vote
these preferences in electing their representatives, a n d a legislator
w h o chooses to ignore them will n o t survive. In any case, it is
sometimes impossible t o distinguish, even by introspection, the
external a n d personal c o m p o n e n t s of a political p o s i t i o n : this is
the case, for example, with associational preferences, w h i c h are the
preferences some people have for opportunities, like the o p p o r t u n
ity to attend public schools, b u t only with others of the same
'background'.
T h e liberal, therefore, needs a scheme of civil rights, whose effect
will be t o determine those political decisions IK'aFaTe antecedently
likely to reflect strong external preferences, a n d t o r e m o v e those
decisions from majoritarian political institutions altogether. Of
course, the scheme of rights necessary t o d o this will d e p e n d on
general facts a b o u t the prejudices a n d other external preferences of
the majority at any given time, a n d different liberals will disagree
6
about w h a t is needed at any particular t i m e . But t h e rights encoded
in the Bill of Rights of the United States Constitution, as interpreted
(on the whole) by the Supreme C o u r t , are those t h a t a substantial
n u m b e r of liberals w o u l d think reasonably well suited t o w h a t the
United States n o w requires (though most w o u l d think t h a t the
protection of the individual in certain i m p o r t a n t areas, including
sexual publication a n d practice, are m u c h t o o w e a k ) .
The main parts of the criminal law,.however, present a special
problem n o t easily met by a scheme of civil rights t h a t disable the
legislature from taking certain political decisions. T h e liberal
knows that many of the most important decisions required by an
effective criminal law are not made by legislators at all, but by
prosecutors deciding whom to prosecute for what crime, and by
Ronald Dworkin 71
juries a n d judges deciding w h o m to convict a n d w h a t sentences to
impose. H e also k n o w s that these decisions are antecedently very
likely t o be c o r r u p t e d by the external preferences of those w h o
m a k e these decisions because those they judge, typically, have
attitudes a n d ways of life very different from their own. The liberal
does n o t h a v e available, as p r o t e c t i o n against these decisions, any
strategy c o m p a r a b l e to the strategy of civil rights that simply
remove a decision from an institution. Decisions to prosecute,
convict a n d sentence m u s t be m a d e by someone. But he has
available, in the n o t i o n of p r o c e d u r a l rights, a different device to
protect equality in a different way. He will insist that criminal
p r o c e d u r e be s t r u c t u r e d to achieve a margin of safety in decisions,
so t h a t t h e process is biased strongly against the conviction of the
innocent. It w o u l d be a mistake to suppose that the liberal thinks
that these p r o c e d u r a l rights will improve the accuracy of the
criminal process, t h a t is, the probability t h a t any particular decision
a b o u t guilt or innocence will be the right one. Procedural rights
intervene in the process, even at the cost of inaccuracy, to
c o m p e n s a t e in a rough w a y for the antecedent risk that a criminal
process, especially if it is largely administered by one class against
a n o t h e r , will be c o r r u p t e d by the impact of external preferences
t h a t c a n n o t be eliminated directly. This is, of course, only the
briefest sketch of h o w various substantive and procedural civil
rights follow from t h e liberal's initial conception of equality; it
is m e a n t t o suggest, r a t h e r t h a n d e m o n s t r a t e , the more precise
a r g u m e n t t h a t w o u l d be available for more particular rights.
So the liberal, d r a w n t o the economic market and to political
d e m o c r a c y for distinctly egalitarian reasons, finds that these
institutions will p r o d u c e inegalitarian results unless he adds to his
scheme different sorts of individual rights. These rights will
function as t r u m p c a r d s held by individuals; they will enable
individuals to resist particular decisions in spite of the fact that
these decisions a r e o r w o u l d be reached through the normal
w o r k i n g s of general institutions that are n o t themselves challenged.
T h e u l t i m a t e justification for these rights is t h a t they are necessary
to p r o t e c t e q u a l c o n c e r n a n d respect; but they are not to be
u n d e r s t o o d as representing equality in contrast to some other goal
or principle served by d e m o c r a c y or the economic market. T h e
familiar idea, for e x a m p l e , t h a t rights of redistribution are justified
by a n ideal of equality t h a t overrides the efficiency ideals of the
m a r k e t in certain cases, h a s n o place in liberal theory. For the
liberal, rights are justified, n o t by s o m e principle in competition
with a n i n d e p e n d e n t justification of the political a n d economic
72 Liberalism
institutions they qualify, but in order t o m a k e m o r e perfect t h e only
justification o n which these o t h e r institutions m a y themselves rely.
If the liberal arguments for a particular right are s o u n d , then the
right is an unqualified improvement in political morality, n o t a
necessary b u t regrettable compromise of some other i n d e p e n d e n t
goal, like economic efficiency.
IV
I said that the conservative holds one a m o n g a n u m b e r of possible

alternatives to^the "liberal" conception of equality. Each of these
alternatives shares the opinion t h a t treating a person with respect
requires treating him as the good m a n w o u l d wish t o be treated.
The conservative supposes that the good m a n w o u l d wish to be
treated in accordance with the principles of a special sort of society,
which I shall call the virtuous society. A virtuous society has these
general features. Its members share a s o u n d conception of virtue,
that is, of the qualities and dispositions people should strive to have
and exhibit. They share this conception in virtue n o t only privately,
as individuals, but publicly: they believe their c o m m u n i t y , in its
social and political activity, exhibits virtues, a n d t h a t they have a
responsibility, as citizens, to p r o m o t e these virtues. In t h a t sense
they treat the lives of other members of their c o m m u n i t y as part of
their o w n lives. The conservative position is n o t the only position
that relies on this ideal of the virtuous society (some forms of
socialism rely on it as well). But the conservative is distinct in
believing that his o w n society, with its present institutions, is a
virtuous society for the special reason t h a t its history a n d c o m m o n
experience ate better guides to s o u n d virtue t h a n any non-historical
a n d therefore abstract deduction of virtue from first principles
could provide.
Suppose a conservative is asked t o draft a constitution for a
society generally like ours, which he believes to be virtuous. Like
the liberal, he will see great merit in the familiar institutions of
political democracy and an economic market. T h e appeal of these
institutions will be very different for the conservative, h o w e v e r . T h e
economic market, in practice, assigns greater r e w a r d s t o those w h o ,
because they have the virtues of talent a n d industry, supply m o r e of
w h a t is w a n t e d by the other m e m b e r s of the v i r t u o u s society; and
t h a t is, for the conservative, the p a r a d i g m of fairness in distri
bution. Political democracy distributes opportunities, t h r o u g h the
provisions of civil a n d criminal law, as the citizens of a v i r t u o u s
Ronald Dworkin 73
society wish it t o be distributed, and that process will provide more
scope for virtuous activity a n d less for vice than any less democratic
technique. D e m o c r a c y has a further advantage, moreover, that no
other t e c h n i q u e could have. It allows the community to use the
processes of legislation to reaffirm, as a community, its public
conception of virtue.
The a p p e a l of the familiar institutions to the conservative is,
therefore, very different from their appeal to the liberal. Since the
conservative a n d t h e liberal b o t h find the familiar institutions
useful, t h o u g h for different reasons, the existence of these institu
tions, as institutions, will n o t necessarily be a point of controversy
between t h e m . But they will disagree sharply over which corrective
devices, in the form of individual rights, are necessary in order to
maintain justice, a n d the disagreement will not be a matter of
degree. T h e liberal, as 1 said, finds the m a r k e t defective principally
because it allows m o r a l l y irrelevant differences, like differences in
talent, to affect d i s t r i b u t i o n , a n d he therefore considers that those
w h o h a v e less talent, as the m a r k e t judges talent, have a right
to some form of redistribution in the n a m e of justice. But the
conservative prizes just the feature of the market that puts a
p r e m i u m o n talents prized in the c o m m u n i t y , because these are, in a
virtuous c o m m u n i t y , virtues. So he will find n o genuine merit, but
only expediency, in the idea of redistribution. H e will allow room,
of course, for the virtue of charity, for it is a virtue that is part of the
public c a t a l o g u e ; b u t he will prefer private charity to public,
because it is a p u r e r expression of t h a t virtue. H e may accept public
charity as well, particularly w h e n it seems necessary to retain the
political allegiance of those w h o w o u l d otherwise suffer t o o much
to tolerate a capitalist society at all. But public charity, justified
either o n g r o u n d s of virtue or expediency, will seem to the
conservative a c o m p r o m i s e with a primary justification of the
m a r k e t , r a t h e r t h a n , as redistribution seems to the liberal, an
i m p r o v e m e n t in t h a t p r i m a r y justification.
N o r will the conservative find the same defects in representative
democracy t h a t the liberal finds there. T h e conservative will not
aim t o exclude moralistic or other external preferences from the
democratic process by any scheme of civil rights; on the contrary, it
is the p r i d e of d e m o c r a c y , for him, that external preferences are
legislated i n t o a p u b l i c morality. But the conservative will find
different defects in d e m o c r a c y , a n d he will contemplate a different
scheme of rights t o diminish t h e injustice they w o r k .
T h e e c o n o m i c m a r k e t distributes rewards for talents valued in
the v i r t u o u s society, b u t since these talents are unequally distn-
74 Liberalism
buted, wealth will be concentrated, a n d the wealthy will be at the
mercy of an envious political majority a n x i o u s t o t a k e by l a w w h a t
it cannot take by talent. Justice requires some p r o t e c t i o n for the
successful. T h e conservative will be (as historically he h a s been)
anxious to hold some line against extensions of t h e vote t o those
groups most likely t o be envious, b u t there is an a p p a r e n t conflict
between the ideals of abstract equality, even in t h e conservative
conception, and disenfranchisement of large parts of t h e p o p u l a
tion. In any case, if conservatism is to be politically powerful, it
must not threaten to exclude from political p o w e r those w h o w o u l d
be asked t o consent, formally or tacitly, t o their o w n exclusion. T h e
conservative will find m o r e appeal in the different, a n d politically
much more feasible, idea of rights t o p r o p e r t y .
These rights have the same force, t h o u g h of course radically
different content, as the liberal's civil rights. T h e liberal will, for his
own purposes, accept some right t o p r o p e r t y , because he will count
some sovereignty over a range of personal possessions essential t o
dignity. But the conservative will strive for rights to p r o p e r t y of a
very different order; he will w a n t rights t h a t protect, n o t some
minimum dominion over a range of possessions independently
shown t o be desirable, but an unlimited d o m i n i o n over w h a t e v e r
has been acquired t h r o u g h an institution t h a t defines a n d r e w a r d s
talent.
The conservative will n o t , of course, follow t h e liberal in the
latter's concern for procedural rights in t h e criminal process. H e
will accept the basic institutions of criminal legislation a n d trial as
proper; but he will see, in the possible acquittal of t h e guilty, not
simply an inefficiency in the strategy of deterrence, b u t a n affront t o
the basic principle t h a t the censure of vice is indispensable t o the
h o n o u r of virtue. H e will believe, therefore, that just criminal
procedures are those that improve t h e antecedent probability t h a t
particular decisions of guilt or innocence will b e accurate. H e will
support rights against interrogation or self-incrimination, for
example, w h e n such rights seem necessary to protect against t o r t u r e
or other means likely t o elicit a confession from the innocent; b u t
he will lose his concern for such rights w h e n non-coercion c a n be
guaranteed in other ways.
T h e fair-minded conservative will be concerned a b o u t racial
discrimination, b u t his concern will differ from t h e concern of the
liberal, and the remedies he will countenance will also be different.
The distinction between equality of o p p o r t u n i t y a n d equality of
result is crucial to the conservative: the institutions of the e c o n o m i c
market and representative democracy cannot achieve what he
Ronald Dworkin 75
supposes they d o unless each citizen has a n equal o p p o r t u n i t y to

capitalize o n his g e n u i n e talents a n d o t h e r virtues in the contest
these institutions p r o v i d e . But since the conservative k n o w s that
these virtues are u n e q u a l l y d i s t r i b u t e d , he also k n o w s that equality
of opportunity m u s t h a v e been denied if the o u t c o m e of the contest
is equality of result.
The fair conservative m u s t , therefore, a t t e n d t o the charge that
prejudice denies e q u a l i t y of o p p o r t u n i t y between m e m b e r s of
different races, a n d he m u s t accept the justice of remedies designed
to reinstate t h a t equality, so far as this m a y be possible. But he will
steadily o p p o s e any form of 'affirmative a c t i o n ' that offers special
opportunities, like places in medical school or jobs, on criteria
other t h a n some p r o p e r c o n c e p t i o n of the virtue a p p r o p r i a t e to the
reward.
The issue of gun c o n t r o l , w h i c h I have t h u s far not mentioned, is
an excellent illustration of the p o w e r of the conservative's constitu
tive political morality. H e favours strict control of sexual publica
tion and practice, b u t h e o p p o s e s parallel control of the ownership
or use of g u n s , t h o u g h of course guns are m o r e dangerous than sex.
President F o r d , in the s e c o n d C a r t e r - F o r d d e b a t e , p u t the conserva
tive position of gun c o n t r o l especially clearly. Sensible conserva
tives d o n o t dispute t h a t private a n d uncontrolled ownership of
guns leads t o violence, because it p u t s guns in circulation that bad
men m a y use b a d l y . B u t (President Ford said) if we meet that
problem by n o t a l l o w i n g g o o d m e n t o have guns, we are punishing
the w r o n g p e o p l e . It is, of c o u r s e , distinctive to the conservative's
position to regard r e g u l a t i o n as c o n d e m n a t i o n a n d hence as
punishment. But he m u s t r e g a r d regulation t h a t way, because he
believes t h a t o p p o r t u n i t i e s s h o u l d be distributed, in a virtuous
society, so as t o p r o m o t e v i r t u o u s acts at the expense of vicious
ones.
In place of a c o n c l u s i o n , I shall say s o m e t h i n g , t h o u g h n o t much,

about t w o of the m a n y i m p o r t a n t questions raised by w h a t I have
said. The first is the q u e s t i o n p o s e d in the first section of the essay
Does t h e t h e o r y of liberalism I described answer the sceptical
t K s i s r D o e s i t explain o u r p r e s e n t uncertainty a b o u t w h a t liberal
ism n o w requires, a n d w h e t h e r it is a genuine a n d tenable political
theory? A great p a r t of t h a t uncertainty can b e traced, as I said, to
doubts a b o u t the c o n n e c t i o n s b e t w e e n liberalism and the suddenly
76 Liberalism
unfashionable idea of economic g r o w t h . T h e o p i n i o n is p o p u l a r
t h a t some form of utilitarianism, which does take g r o w t h to be a
v a f u T i n . l t ^ i l L ^ x o n s t i t u t i v e of liberalism; b u t my a r g u m e n t s , if
Successful, s h o w that this opinion is a mistake. E c o n o m i c g r o w t h ,
1Ts~c6nvefttibnally measured, was a derivative element in N e w Deal
liberalism. It seemed t o play a useful role in achieving the complex
egalitarian distribution of resources t h a t liberalism requires. If it
n o w appears that economic g r o w t h injures m o r e t h a n it aids the
liberal conception of equality, then the liberal is free to reject or
curtail growth as a strategy. If the effect of g r o w t h is d e b a t a b l e , as I
believe it is, then liberals will be uncertain, a n d a p p e a r t o straddle
the issue.
But the matter is m o r e complicated t h a n t h a t analysis makes
it seem, because economic g r o w t h m a y be deplored for m a n y
different reasons, some of which are plainly n o t available t o the
liberal. There is a powerful sentiment that a simpler w a y of life is
better, in itself, t h a n the life of c o n s u m p t i o n m o s t Americans have
recently preferred; this simpler life requires living in h a r m o n y with
n a t u r e , and is therefore disturbed w h e n , for e x a m p l e , a beautiful
mountainside is spoiled by strip mining for the coal t h a t lies within
it. Should the mountainside be saved, in order to protect a w a y of
life that depends upon it, either by regulation that prohibits mining,
or by acquisition with taxpayers' money of a national park? M a y
a liberal support such policies, consistently w i t h his constitutive
political morality? If he believes that government intervention is
necessary to achieve a fair distribution of resources, on the g r o u n d
t h a t the m a r k e t does n o t fairly reflect the preferences of those w h o
w a n t a park against those w h o w a n t w h a t the coal will p r o d u c e ,
then he has a s t a n d a r d , egalitarian reason for s u p p o r t i n g interven
tion. But suppose h e does not believe that, but rather believes that
those w h o w a n t the park have a superior conception of w h a t a truly
worthwhile life is. A non-liberal m a y s u p p o r t conservation o n that
theory; but a liberal may n o t .
Suppose, however, that the liberal holds a different, m o r e
complex, belief a b o u t the i m p o r t a n c e of preserving n a t u r a l re
sources. He believes t h a t the conquest of unspoilt terrain by the
consumer economy is self-fuelling a n d irreversible, a n d t h a t this
process will make a w a y of life that has been desired a n d found
satisfying in the past unavailable to future generations, and indeed
t o the future of those w h o n o w seem u n a w a r e of its appeal. H e
fears that this w a y of life will become u n k n o w n , so t h a t the process
is not neutral a m o n g s t competing ideas of the g o o d life, b u t in fact
Ronald Dworkin 77
destructive of the very possibility of some of these. In t h a t case the
liberal has reasons for a p r o g r a m m e of conservation that are not
only consistent with his constitutive morality, but in fact sponsored
by it.
I raise these possible lines of argument, n o t t o provide the liberal
with a n easier p a t h to a p o p u l a r political position, but to illustrate
the complexity of the issues that the new politics has provided.
Liberalism seems precise and powerful w h e n it is relatively clear
w h a t practical political positions are derivative from its funda
mental constitutive morality; o n these occasions politics allows
w h a t I called a liberal settlement of political positions. But such a
settlement is fragile, a n d when it dissolves liberals must regroup,
first t h r o u g h study a n d analysis, which will encourage a fresh and
deeper u n d e r s t a n d i n g of w h a t liberalism is, a n d then t h r o u g h the
f o r m a t i o n of a n e w a n d c o n t e m p o r a r y p r o g r a m m e for liberals. The
study a n d theory are n o t yet in progress, a n d the new p r o g r a m m e is
n o t yet in sight.
T h e second question I wish t o mention, finally, is a question I
have n o t t o u c h e d at all. W h a t is to be said in favour of liberalism? I
d o n o t s u p p o s e t h a t I have m a d e liberalism m o r e attractive By
arguing t h a t its constitutive morality is a theory of equality that
requires official neutrality a m o n g s t theories of w h a t is valuable in
life. T h e a r g u m e n t will p r o v o k e a variety of objections. It might be
said t h a t liberalism so conceived rests on scepticism a b o u t theories
of the g o o d , o r t h a t it is based on a mean view of h u m a n n a t u r e that
assumes t h a t h u m a n beings are a t o m s w h o can exist and find
self-fulfillment a p a r t from political c o m m u n i t y , or that it is self-
c o n t r a d i c t o r y because liberalism m u s t itself be a theory of the good,
or t h a t it denies to political society its highest function a n d ultimate
justification, which is t h a t society must help its members to achieve
w h a t is in fact g o o d . T h e first three of these objections need not
concern us for long, because they are based on philosophical
mistakes which I can quickly n a m e if n o t refute. Liberalism c a n n o t
be based o n scepticism. Its constitutive morality provides t h a t
h u m a n beings m u s t be treated as equals by their government, not
because there is n o right and w r o n g in political morality, but
because t h a t is w h a t is right. Liberalism does n o t rest on any special
theory of personality, n o r does it deny that m o s t h u m a n beings will
think t h a t w h a t is g o o d for t h e m is that they be active in society.
Liberalism is n o t self-contradictory: the liberal conception of
equality is a principle of political organization that is required by
justice, n o t a w a y of life for individuals, a n d liberals, as such, are
78 Liberalism
indifferent as t o whether people choose to speak o u t on political
matters, or to lead eccentric lives, or otherwise to behave as liberals
are supposed t o prefer.
But the fourth objection c a n n o t so easily be set aside. T h e r e is no
easy way to demonstrate the p r o p e r role in institutions t h a t have a
m o n o p o l y of p o w e r over the lives of o t h e r s ; reasonable a n d moral
m e n will disagree. T h e issue is at b o t t o m the issue I identified: w h a t
is the content of the respect t h a t is necessary t o dignity and
independence?
T h a t raises problems in moral philosophy and in the philosophy
of mind that are fundamental for political theory t h o u g h not
discussed here; but this essay does bear on o n e issue sometimes
thought to be relevant. It is sometimes said t h a t liberalism m u s t be
w r o n g because it assumes that the o p i n i o n s people have a b o u t the
sort of lives they w a n t are self-generated, w h e r e a s these opinions
are in fact the products of the economic system or other aspects of
the society in which they live. T h a t would be an objection to
liberalism if liberalism were based on some form of preference-
utilitarianism which argued that justice in distribution consists in
maximizing the extent t o which people have w h a t they h a p p e n to
w a n t . It is useful t o point out, against t h a t preference-utilitarian
ism, that since the preferences people have are formed by the system
of distribution already in place, these preferences will tend to
support that system, which is b o t h circular a n d unfair. But
liberalism, as I have described it, does n o t m a k e the c o n t e n t of
preferences the test of fairness in distribution. O n the c o n t r a r y , it is
anxious t o protect individuals whose needs are special or whose
ambitions are eccentric from the fact that more p o p u l a r preferences
are institutionally a n d socially reinforced, for t h a t is the effect and
justification of the liberal's scheme of economic a n d political rights.
Liberalism responds t o the claim, t h a t preferences are caused by
systems of distribution, w i t h the sensible answer t h a t in t h a t case it
is all the more i m p o r t a n t that distribution be fair in itself, n o t as
tested by the preferences it produces.
NOTES
1
See Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously, ch. 12.
2
See Taking Rights Seriously, p. 227.
3
See Scanlon,'Preference and Urgency',/. Phil., Lxxu,p. 655.
A very different objection calls attention to the fact that some people are
afflicted with incapacities like blindness or mental disease, so that they
require more resources to satisfy the same scheme of preferences. That
Ronald Divorkin 79
is a more appealing objection to my principle of rough equality of
treatment, but it calls, not for choosing a different basic principle of
distribution, but for corrections in the application of the principle like
those 1 considered later.
^ Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously, pp. 234 ff, 275.
6
See Dworkin, 'Social Sciences and Constitutional Rights', The Edu
cational Forum, XLI (March, 1977), p. 271.
Friedrich A. Hayek: Equality,
51
Value, and Merit "
/ have no respect for the passion for equality,

which seems to me merely idealizing envy.
Oliver Wendell H o l m e s , Jr.
(1) The great aim of the struggle for liberty has been equality
before the law. This equality u n d e r the rules which the state
enforces may be supplemented by a similar equality of the rules that
m e n voluntarily obey in their relations with o n e a n o t h e r . This
extension of the principle of equality to the rules of m o r a l and
social conduct is the chief expression of w h a t is c o m m o n l y called
the democratic spirit - and probably that aspect of it that does
most to make inoffensive the inequalities t h a t liberty necessarily
produces.
Equality of the general rules of law a n d c o n d u c t , h o w e v e r , is the
only kind of equality conductive t o liberty and the only equality
which we can secure w i t h o u t destroying liberty. N o t only has
liberty nothing to d o with any other sort of equality, b u t it is even
b o u n d to produce inequality in m a n y respects. T h i s is the necessary
result a n d p a r t of the justification of individual liberty: if the result
of individual liberty did not d e m o n s t r a t e t h a t some m a n n e r s of
living are more successful than others, m u c h of the case for it w o u l d
vanish.
It is neither because it assumes that people are in fact equal nor
because it attempts t o m a k e them equal t h a t the a r g u m e n t for
liberty d e m a n d s that government treat t h e m equally. This a r g u m e n t
* Reprinted from Friedrich Hayek, The Constitution of Liberty by per

mission of Chicago University Press. © 1960 by The University of
Chicago. In Great Britain, published by permission of Routledge and
Kegan Paul Ltd.
Friedrich A. Hayek 81
not only recognizes t h a t individuals are very different but in a great
measure rests on t h a t a s s u m p t i o n . It insists t h a t these individual
differences provide n o justification for government to treat them
differently. A n d it objects to the differences in treatment by the
state t h a t w o u l d be necessary if persons w h o are in fact very
different w e r e to be assured equal positions in life.
M o d e r n a d v o c a t e s of a m o r e far-reaching material equality
usually deny t h a t their d e m a n d s are based on any assumption of the
1
factual equality of all m e n . It is nevertheless still widely believed
that this is the m a i n justification for such demands. Nothing,
however, is m o r e d a m a g i n g to the d e m a n d for equal treatment than
to base it o n s o obviously u n t r u e an assumption as that of the
factual equality of all m e n . T o rest the case for equal treatment of
national o r racial minorities o n the assertion t h a t they d o not differ
from o t h e r m e n is implicitly to a d m i t that factual inequality would
justify unequal t r e a t m e n t ; a n d the proof that some differences do,
in fact, exist w o u l d n o t be long in forthcoming. It is of the essence
of the d e m a n d for equality before the law that people should be
treated alike in spite of the fact t h a t they are different.
(2) T h e b o u n d l e s s variety of h u m a n nature - the wide range of
differences in individual capacities and potentialities - is one of the
most distinctive facts a b o u t the h u m a n species. Its evolution has
m a d e it p r o b a b l y the m o s t variable a m o n g all kinds of creatures. It
has been well said t h a t
biology, with variability as its cornerstone, confers on every

h u m a n individual a unique set of attributes which give him a
dignity h e could n o t o t h e r w i s e possess. Every newborn baby
is an u n k n o w n q u a n t i t y so far as potentialities are concerned
because there are m a n y t h o u s a n d s of u n k n o w n interrelated
genes a n d gene-patterns which contribute to his m a k e - u p . As
a result of n a t u r e a n d n u r t u r e the n e w b o r n infant may
b e c o m e o n e of the greatest of men or w o m e n ever to have
lived. In every case he or she has the m a k i n g of a distinctive
individual. . . . If the differences are n o t very important, then
freedom is not very i m p o r t a n t and the idea of individual
2
w o r t h is n o t very i m p o r t a n t .
T h e writer justly a d d s t h a t the widely held uniformity theory of

h u m a n n a t u r e , ' w h i c h o n the surface appears to accord with
d e m o c r a c y . . . w o u l d in time u n d e r m i n e the very basic ideals of
freedom a n d individual w o r t h a n d render life as w e k n o w it
3
meaningless.'
82 Equality, Value, and Merit
It has been the fashion in m o d e r n times t o minimize the
importance of congenital differences between m e n a n d t o ascribe all
the important differences to the influence of e n v i r o n m e n t . H o w
ever important the latter may be, we m u s t n o t o v e r l o o k the fact that
individuals are very different from t h e outset. T h e i m p o r t a n c e of
individual differences would hardly be less if all people were
brought up in very similar environments. As a statement of fact, it
just is not true that 'all m e n are b o r n e q u a l ' . W e may continue t o
use this hallowed phrase t o express t h e ideal that legally a n d
morally all m e n ought to be treated alike. But if w e w a n t t o
understand w h a t this ideal of equality can o r should m e a n , t h e first
requirement is that w e free ourselves from t h e belief in factual
equality.
From the fact that people are very different it follows t h a t , if we
treat them equally, the result must be inequality in their actual
5
position, and that the only way t o place them in an equal position
would be to treat them differently. Equality before t h e law a n d
material equality are therefore n o t only different b u t a r e in conflict
with each other; and w e can achieve either t h e o n e o r the o t h e r , b u t
not both at the same time. T h e equality before the law which
freedom requires leads t o material inequality. O u r a r g u m e n t will be
that, though where the state must use coercion for other reasons,
it should treat all people alike, the desire of m a k i n g people m o r e
alike in their condition c a n n o t be accepted in a free society as a
justification for further a n d discriminatory coercion.
W e d o not object to equality as such. It merely h a p p e n s to be the
case that a d e m a n d for equality is t h e professed motive of m o s t of
those w h o desire to impose upon society a preconceived p a t t e r n of
distribution. O u r objection is against all attempts t o impress u p o n
society a deliberately chosen pattern of distribution, w h e t h e r it b e
an order of equality or of inequality. W e shall indeed see t h a t m a n y
of those w h o d e m a n d an extension of equality d o n o t really
d e m a n d equality b u t a distribution t h a t conforms m o r e closely t o
h u m a n conceptions of individual merit a n d that their desires are
as irreconcilable with freedom as t h e m o r e strictly egalitarian
demands.
If one objects to the use of coercion in order to bring a b o u t a
more even or a m o r e just distribution, this does n o t mean t h a t o n e
does not regard these as desirable. But if we wish to preserve a free
society, it is essential that we recognize that the desirability of a
particular object is not sufficient justification for t h e use of
coercion. One may well feel attracted to a c o m m u n i t y in w h i c h
there are no extreme contrasts between rich a n d poor and may
welcome the fact t h a t the general increase in wealth seems
gradually to reduce those differences. I fully share these feelings and
certainly regard the degree of social equality that the United States
has achieved as w h o l l y a d m i r a b l e .
There also seems n o reason w h y these widely felt preferences
should n o t guide policy in some respects. Wherever there is a
legitimate need for g o v e r n m e n t action a n d we have to choose
between different m e t h o d s of satisfying such a need, those that
incidentally also reduce inequality may well be preferable. If, for
example, in the law of intestate succession one kind of provision
will be m o r e c o n d u c i v e t o equality than a n o t h e r , this may be a
strong a r g u m e n t in its favour. It is a different matter, however, if it
is d e m a n d e d t h a t , in o r d e r to p r o d u c e substantive equality, we
should a b a n d o n the basic postulate of a free society, namely, the
limitation of all coercion by equal law. Against this we shall hold
that e c o n o m i c inequality is n o t o n e of the evils which justify our
resorting t o d i s c r i m i n a t o r y coercion or privilege as a remedy.
(3) O u r c o n t e n t i o n rests o n t w o basic propositions which probably

need only be stated t o w i n fairly general assent. The first of them is
an expression of t h e belief in a certain similarity of all h u m a n
beings: it is the p r o p o s i t i o n t h a t n o m a n or group of men possesses
the capacity t o d e t e r m i n e conclusively the potentialities of other
h u m a n beings a n d t h a t we should certainly never trust anyone
invariably to exercise such a capacity. H o w e v e r great the differ
ences between m e n m a y be, w e h a v e n o g r o u n d for believing that
they will ever be so great as to enable one man's mind in a
particular instance t o c o m p r e h e n d fully all t h a t another responsible
m a n ' s m i n d is capable of.
T h e second basic p r o p o s i t i o n is that the acquisition by any
m e m b e r of the c o m m u n i t y of additional capacities t o d o things
which m a y be valuable m u s t always be regarded as a gain for that
c o m m u n i t y . It is t r u e t h a t particular people may be worse off
because of the s u p e r i o r ability of some new competitor in their
field; but any such a d d i t i o n a l ability in the community is likely t o
benefit the majority. This implies t h a t the desirability of increasing
the abilities a n d o p p o r t u n i t i e s of any individual does not depend on
whether the s a m e can also be d o n e for the others - provided, of
course, t h a t others are n o t thereby deprived of the opportunity of
acquiring the s a m e o r other abilities which might have been
accessible t o t h e m h a d they n o t been secured by that individual.
Egalitarians generally regard differently those differences in
individual capacities w h i c h are i n b o r n a n d those which are due t o
the influences of environment, or those which are the result of
' n a t u r e ' and those which are the result of ' n u r t u r e ' . N e i t h e r , be it
6
said at once, has anything to do with moral m e r i t . T h o u g h either
may greatly affect the value which an individual has for his fellows,
n o more credit belongs to h i m for having been b o r n w i t h desirable
qualities than for having grown u p u n d e r favourable circumstances.
T h e distinction between the two is i m p o r t a n t only because the
former advantages are due to circumstances clearly beyond h u m a n
control, while the latter are due t o factors which w e might be able
t o alter. T h e important question is w h e t h e r there is a case for so
changing our institutions as t o eliminate as m u c h as possible those
advantages due t o environment. Are w e to agree t h a t 'all inequali
ties that rest o n birth and inherited property o u g h t t o be abolished
and none remain unless it is an effect of superior talent and
7
industry'?
T h e fact that certain advantages rest o n h u m a n a r r a n g e m e n t s
does not necessarily mean that we could p r o v i d e the same
advantages for all or that, if they are given to some, s o m e b o d y else
is thereby deprived of them. The most i m p o r t a n t factors t o be
considered in this connection are the family, inheritance, and
education, and it is against the inequality which they p r o d u c e that
criticism is mainly directed. T h e y a r e , h o w e v e r , n o t the only
i m p o r t a n t factors of environment. Geographic conditions such as
climate a n d landscape, n o t t o speak of local and sectional
differences in cultural and moral traditions, are scarcely less
important. W e can, however, consider h e r e only the three factors
whose effects are most c o m m o n l y impugned.
So far as the family is concerned, there exists a curious contrast
between the esteem most people profess for the institution a n d their
dislike of the fact that being born into a particular family should
confer on a person special advantages. It seems t o be widely
believed that, while useful qualities w h i c h a person acquires
because of his native gifts under conditions which are the s a m e for
all are socially beneficial, the same qualities become s o m e h o w
undesirable if they are the result of environmental a d v a n t a g e s not
available to others. Yet it is difficult to see w h y the same useful
quality which is welcomed when it is the result of a person's n a t u r a l
e n d o w m e n t should be less valuable w h e n it is the p r o d u c t of such
circumstances as intelligent parents or a g o o d h o m e .
T h e value which m o s t people attach to the institution of the
family rests o n the belief t h a t , as a rule, p a r e n t s can d o m o r e to
p r e p a r e their children for a satisfactory life t h a n a n y o n e else. T h i s
means not only t h a t the benefits which particular people derive
from their family e n v i r o n m e n t will be different but also that these
benefits m a y o p e r a t e cumulatively t h r o u g h several generations.
What reason can t h e r e be for believing that a desirable quality in a
person is less valuable t o society if it has been the result of family
b a c k g r o u n d t h a n if it has not? There is, indeed, good reason to
think t h a t there are s o m e socially valuable qualities which will be
rarely acquired in a single generation but which will generally be
formed only by the c o n t i n u o u s efforts of t w o or three. This means
simply t h a t there are p a r t s of the cultural heritage of a society that
are m o r e effectively t r a n s m i t t e d t h r o u g h the family. Granted this, it
would be u n r e a s o n a b l e t o deny t h a t a society is likely to get a better
elite if ascent is n o t limited to one generation, if individuals are not
deliberately m a d e to s t a r t from the same level, and if children are
not deprived of the c h a n c e to benefit from the better education and
materia] e n v i r o n m e n t w h i c h their parents may be able to provide.
T o a d m i t this is merely t o recognize that belonging t o a particular
family is p a r t of the individual personality, that society is made up
as much of families as of individuals, and that the transmission of
the heritage of civilization within the family is as important a tool
in m a n ' s striving t o w a r d s better things as is the heredity of
beneficial physical a t t r i b u t e s .
(4) M a n y people w h o agree t h a t the family is desirable as an

instrument for the t r a n s m i s s i o n of morals, tastes, and knowledge,
still question the desirability of the transmission of material
property. Yet there can be little d o u b t that, in order that the former
may be possible, s o m e continuity of s t a n d a r d s , of the external
forms of life, is essential, a n d t h a t this will be achieved only if it is
possible t o t r a n s m i t n o t only immaterial but also material advan
tages. T h e r e is, of c o u r s e , neither greater merit nor any greater
injustice involved in s o m e people being born to wealthy parents
t h a n there is in o t h e r s being b o r n to k i n d o r intelligent parents. The
fact is t h a t it is n o less of a n a d v a n t a g e to the community if at least
some children can s t a r t w i t h the advantages which at any given
time only w e a l t h y h o m e s can offer than if some children inherit
great intelligence o r are t a u g h t better morals at home.
We are n o t c o n c e r n e d here w i t h the chief argument for private
inheritance, namely, t h a t it seems essential as a means to preserve
the dispersal in the c o n t r o l of capital and as an inducement for its
a c c u m u l a t i o n . R a t h e r , o u r concern here is w h e t h e r the fact that it
confers u n m e r i t e d benefits o n s o m e is a valid argument against the
institution. It is u n q u e s t i o n a b l y o n e of the institutional causes of
inequality. In the p r e s e n t c o n t e x t we need not enquire whether
liberty demands unlimited freedom of bequest. O u r p r o b l e m here
is merely whether people ought t o be free t o pass on t o children or
others such material possessions as will cause substantial
inequality.
Once we agree that it is desirable t o harness the n a t u r a l instincts
of parents t o equip the new generation as well as they can, there
seems no sensible ground for limiting this t o n o n - m a t e r i a l benefits.
T h e family's function of passing on s t a n d a r d s a n d traditions is
closely tied u p with the possibility of transmitting material goods.
And it is difficult to see h o w it w o u l d serve the true interest of
society t o limit the gain in material conditions t o o n e generation.
There is also another consideration which, t h o u g h it m a y a p p e a r
s o m e w h a t cynical, strongly suggests t h a t if w e wish to m a k e the
best use of the natural partiality of parents for their children, w e
ought not t o preclude the transmission of property. It seems certain
t h a t a m o n g the m a n y ways in which those w h o h a v e gained p o w e r
a n d influence might provide for their children, the bequest of a
fortune is socially by far the cheapest. W i t h o u t this outlet, these
men would look for other ways of providing for their children, such
as placing them in positions which might bring them the income
a n d the prestige that a fortune w o u l d have d o n e ; a n d this w o u l d
cause a waste of resources and an injustice much greater than is
caused by the inheritance of property. Such is the case w i t h all
societies in which inheritance of p r o p e r t y does n o t exist, including
the communist. T h o s e w h o dislike the inequalities caused by
inheritance should therefore recognize that, m e n being w h a t they
are, it is the least of evils, even from their p o i n t of view.
(5) T h o u g h inheritance used t o be the most widely criticized source

of inequality, it is today probably n o longer s o . Egalitarian
agitation n o w tends t o concentrate o n the u n e q u a l a d v a n t a g e s due
to differences in education. There is a g r o w i n g tendency t o express
the desire t o secure equality of conditions in t h e claim t h a t t h e best
education we have learned t o provide for some should be m a d e
gratuitously available for all a n d t h a t , if this is not possible, o n e
should n o t be allowed to get a better education than t h e rest merely
because one's parents are able t o pay for it, b u t only those a n d all
those who can pass a uniform test of ability should be a d m i t t e d t o
the benefits of the limited resources of higher education.
The problem of educational policy raises too many issues t o
allow of their being discussed incidentally u n d e r t h e general
heading of equality. For the present we shall only point o u t that
enforced equality in this field can hardly avoid preventing some
from getting the e d u c a t i o n they otherwise might. Whatever we
might d o , there is n o w a y of preventing those advantages which
only some can h a v e , a n d which it is desirable that some should
have, from going t o p e o p l e w h o neither individually merit them nor
will m a k e as g o o d a use of t h e m as some other person might have
done. Such a p r o b l e m c a n n o t be satisfactorily solved by the
exclusive a n d coercive p o w e r s of the state.
It is instructive at this point to glance briefly at the change that
the ideal of equality h a s u n d e r g o n e in this field in modern times. A
hundred years ago, at the height of the classical liberal movement,
the d e m a n d w a s generally expressed by the phrase la carriere
ouverte aux talents. It w a s a d e m a n d that all m a n - m a d e obstacles to
the rise of s o m e s h o u l d be removed, that all privileges of individuals
should be abolished, and that w h a t the state contributed to the
chance of i m p r o v i n g o n e ' s conditions should be the same for all.
T h a t so long as p e o p l e were different and grew up in different
families this could n o t assure an equal start was fairly generally
accepted. It w a s u n d e r s t o o d t h a t the duty of government was not to
ensure t h a t e v e r y b o d y h a d the same prospect of reaching a given
position but merely t o m a k e available to all on equal terms those
facilities w h i c h in their n a t u r e depended on government action.
T h a t the results w e r e b o u n d to be different, n o t only because the
individuals w e r e different, but also because only a small part of the
relevant c i r c u m s t a n c e s d e p e n d e d o n government action, was taken
for granted.
This c o n c e p t i o n t h a t all should be allowed to try has been largely
replaced by the altogether different conception that all must be
assured an equal start a n d the same prospects. This means little less
than t h a t the g o v e r n m e n t , instead of providing the same circum
stances for all, s h o u l d a i m at controlling all conditions relevant to a
particular individual's prospects a n d so adjust them to his capaci
ties as to assure h i m of the same prospects as everybody else. Such
deliberate a d a p t a t i o n of opportunities to individual aims and
capacities w o u l d , of c o u r s e , be the opposite of freedom. N o r could
it be justified as a m e a n s of m a k i n g the best use of all available
k n o w l e d g e e x c e p t o n t h e a s s u m p t i o n that government k n o w s best
h o w individual capacities can be used.
W h e n w e e n q u i r e i n t o the justification of these demands, we find
that they rest o n the discontent that the success of some people
often p r o d u c e s in t h o s e t h a t are less successful, or, to put it bluntly,
on envy. T h e m o d e r n tendency t o gratify this passion and to
disguise :t in the respectable g a r m e n t of social justice is developing
into a serious t h r e a t t o freedom. Recently an attempt was made to
base these d e m a n d s o n the a r g u m e n t t h a t it o u g h t t o be t h e aim of
8
politics to remove all sources of d i s c o n t e n t . This w o u l d , of course,
necessarily mean that it is the responsibility of g o v e r n m e n t t o see
t h a t n o b o d y is healthier or possesses a h a p p i e r t e m p e r a m e n t , a
better-suited spouse or more prospering children, t h a n a n y b o d y
else. If really all unfulfilled desires h a v e a claim o n the c o m m u n i t y ,
individual responsibility is a t a n e n d . H o w e v e r h u m a n , envy is
certainly not one of the sources of discontent t h a t a free society can
eliminate. It is probably o n e of the essential conditions for the
preservation of such a society t h a t w e d o n o t c o u n t e n a n c e envy, not
sanction its d e m a n d s by camouflaging it as social justice, b u t treat
it, in the w o r d s of John Stuart Mill, as 'the m o s t anti-social a n d evil
9
of all p a s s i o n s ' .
(6) While most of the strictly egalitarian d e m a n d s are based on

nothing better t h a n envy, w e must recognize t h a t m u c h t h a t o n the
surface appears as a d e m a n d for greater equality is in fact a d e m a n d
for a juster distribution of the good things of this w o r l d a n d springs
therefore from much m o r e creditable motives. M o s t p e o p l e will
object not to the bare fact of inequality b u t to the fact t h a t the
differences in reward do not c o r r e s p o n d to any recognizable
differences in the merits of those w h o receive t h e m . T h e answer
commonly given to this is t h a t a free society o n the w h o l e achieves
10
this kind of j u s t i c e . This, however, is an indefensible c o n t e n t i o n if
by justice is meant proportionality of r e w a r d to m o r a l merit. Any
attempt to found the case for freedom o n this a r g u m e n t is very
damaging t o it, since it concedes that material r e w a r d s o u g h t to be
made to correspond to recognizable merit a n d then o p p o s e s the
conclusion that most people will d r a w from this by an assertion
which is untrue. T h e p r o p e r answer is that in a free system it is
neither desirable nor practicable that material r e w a r d s s h o u l d be
. made generally t o correspond to w h a t men recognize as merit and
that it is an essential characteristic of a free society t h a t an
individual's position should not necessarily d e p e n d o n the views
t h a t his fellows hold a b o u t the merit he has acquired.
This contention may a p p e a r at first so strange a n d even shocking
that I will ask the reader to suspend judgement until I have further
11
explained the distinction between value a n d m e r i t . T h e difficulty
in making the point clear is due t o the fact t h a t the t e r m 'merit',
which is the only one available t o describe w h a t I m e a n , is also used
in a wider a n d vaguer sense. It will be used here exclusively to
describe the attributes of conduct t h a t m a k e it deserving of praise,
Frtedricb A. Hayek 89
that is, the m o r a l c h a r a c t e r of the action and not the value of the
12
achievement.
As we have seen t h r o u g h o u t o u r discussion, the value that the
performance or capacity of a person has to his fellows has no
neccessary c o n n e c t i o n w i t h its ascertainable merit in this sense. The
inborn as well as the acquired gifts of a person clearly have a value
to his fellows which d o e s not d e p e n d on any credit due to him for
possessing t h e m . T h e r e is little a m a n can do to alter the fact that
his special talents are very c o m m o n or exceedingly rare. A good
mind or a fine voice, a beautiful face or a skilful hand, and a ready
wit or an attractive personality are in a large measure as indepen
dent of a p e r s o n ' s efforts as the opportunities or the experiences he
has had. In all these instances the value which a person's capacities
or services h a v e for us a n d for which he is recompensed has
little relation t o a n y t h i n g that we can call moral merit or deserts.
O u r p r o b l e m is w h e t h e r it is desirable that people should enjoy
advantages in p r o p o r t i o n t o the benefits which their fellows derive
from their activities or w h e t h e r the distribution of these advantages
should be based o n o t h e r m e n ' s views of their merits.
R e w a r d a c c o r d i n g t o merit must in practice mean reward
according t o assessable merit, merit that other people can recognize
and agree u p o n a n d n o t merit merely in the sight of some higher
power. Assessable m e r i t in this sense presupposes that we can
ascertain t h a t a m a n h a s d o n e w h a t some accepted rule of conduct
d e m a n d e d of h i m a n d t h a t this has cost him some pain and effort.
Whether this has been the case c a n n o t be judged by the result: merit
is not a m a t t e r of the objective o u t c o m e but of subjective effort. The
attempt t o achieve a valuable result m a y be highly meritorious but a
complete failure, a n d full success may be entirely the result of
accident a n d t h u s w i t h o u t merit. If we k n o w that a man has done
his best w e will often wish to see him rewarded irrespective of the
result; a n d if w e k n o w t h a t a m o s t valuable achievement is almost
entirely d u e t o luck or favourable circumstances, we will give little
credit to the a u t h o r .
W e m a y wish t h a t w e w e r e able to d r a w this distinction in every
instance. In fact, w e can d o so only rarely with any degree of
assurance. It is possible only w h e r e we possess ail the knowledge
which w a s at the disposal of the acting person, including a
knowledge of his skill a n d confidence, his state of mind and his
feelings, his capacity for attention, his energy a n d persistence, etc.
T h e possibility of a t r u e j u d g e m e n t of merit thus depends on the
presence of precisely t h o s e conditions w h o s e general absence is the
main argument for liberty. It is because w e w a n t p e o p l e to use
knowledge which we d o not possess t h a t w e let t h e m decide for
themselves. But insofar as we w a n t them to be free t o use capacities
and knowledge of facts which w e d o n o t h a v e , we are n o t in a
position to judge the merit of their achievements. T o decide on
merit presupposes that we can judge w h e t h e r people h a v e made
such use of their opportunities as they o u g h t to h a v e m a d e a n d how
much effort of will or self-denial this has cost t h e m ; it presupposes
also that we can distinguish between t h a t p a r t of their achievement
which is due to circumstances within their c o n t r o l a n d t h a t part
which is not.
(7) T h e incompatibility of r e w a r d according t o merit with freedom

t o choose one's pursuit is most evident in those areas w h e r e the
uncertainty of the o u t c o m e is particularly great a n d o u r individual
estimates of the changes of various kinds of effort very different.
In those speculative efforts which w e call 'research' or 'explora
tion', or in economic activities which we c o m m o n l y describe as
'speculation', we c a n n o t expect to attract those best qualified for
t h e m unless we give the successful ones all the credit or gain,
though many others may have striven as meritoriously. For the
same reason that n o b o d y can k n o w beforehand w h o will be the
successful ones, nobody can say w h o has e a r n e d greater merit. It
would clearly not serve our p u r p o s e if we let all w h o h a v e honestly
striven share in the prize. M o r e o v e r , t o d o s o w o u l d m a k e it
necessary that s o m e b o d y h a v e the right t o decide w h o is t o be
allowed to strive for it. If in their pursuit of uncertain goals people
are t o use their o w n knowledge and capacities, they m u s t b e guided,
not by w h a t other people think they ought to d o , b u t by the value
others attach to the result at which they aim.
W h a t is so- obviously true a b o u t those u n d e r t a k i n g s w h i c h we
commonly regard as risky is scarcely less true of a n y chosen object
we decide to pursue. Any such decision is beset with uncertainty,
and if the choice is t o be as wise as it is h u m a n l y possible t o m a k e it,
the alternative results anticipated must be labelled a c c o r d i n g to
their value. If the remuneration did n o t c o r r e s p o n d t o the value that
the product of a m a n ' s efforts has for his fellows, he w o u l d h a v e no
basis for deciding whether the pursuit of a given object is w o r t h the
effort a n d risk. He w o u l d necessarily have t o be told w h a t t o d o ,
and some other person's estimate of w h a t w a s the best use of
his capacities would have to determine b o t h his duties a n d his
14
remuneration.
The fact is, of course, t h a t w e d o n o t wish people t o earn a
maximum of merit b u t t o achieve a m a x i m u m of usefulness a t a
minimum of pain a n d sacrifice a n d therefore a m i n i m u m of merit.
Not only w o u l d it be impossible for us to r e w a r d all merit justly,
but it would n o t even be desirable t h a t p e o p l e s h o u l d aim chiefly at
earning a m a x i m u m of m e r i t . Any a t t e m p t to i n d u c e t h e m t o d o this
would necessarily result in p e o p l e b e i n g r e w a r d e d differently for
the same service. A n d it is only the value of the result t h a t we can
judge with any degree of confidence, n o t the different degrees of
effort and care t h a t it h a s cost different p e o p l e t o achieve it.
The prizes that a free society offers for t h e result serve t o tell
those w h o strive for t h e m h o w m u c h effort they are w o r t h .
However, the same prizes will g o t o all t h o s e w h o p r o d u c e the s a m e
result, regardless of effort. W h a t is t r u e here of the r e m u n e r a t i o n
for the same services r e n d e r e d by different people is even m o r e true
of the relative r e m u n e r a t i o n for different services r e q u i r i n g differ
ent gifts and capacities: they will h a v e little r e l a t i o n to merit. T h e
matket will generally offer for services of any k i n d the value they
will have for those w h o benefit f r o m t h e m ; b u t it will rarely be
known whether it w a s necessary t o offer so m u c h in o r d e r t o o b t a i n
these services, a n d often, n o d o u b t , the c o m m u n i t y could have h a d
them for much less. T h e pianist w h o w a s r e p o r t e d n o t long a g o t o
have said that he w o u l d p e r f o r m even if h e h a d t o p a y for the
privilege p r o b a b l y described the p o s i t i o n of m a n y w h o e a r n large
incomes from activities w h i c h are a l s o t h e i r chief p l e a s u r e .
(8) Though most p e o p l e regard as very n a t u r a l the claim t h a t

nobody should be r e w a r d e d m o r e t h a n he deserves for his pain
and effort, it is nevertheless based o n a colossal p r e s u m p t i o n . It
presumes t h a t w e are able t o judge in every individual instance h o w
well people use the different o p p o r t u n i t i e s a n d t a l e n t s given t o t h e m
and how meritorious their a c h i e v e m e n t s are in t h e light of all the
circumstances which h a v e t h e m possible. It p r e s u m e s t h a t s o m e
human beings are in a p o s i t i o n t o d e t e r m i n e conclusively w h a t a
Person is w o r t h a n d are entitled t o d e t e r m i n e w h a t h e m a y achieve.
It presumes, t h e n , w h a t t h e a r g u m e n t for liberty specifically rejects:
that we can a n d d o k n o w all t h a t guides a p e r s o n ' s action.
A society in which t h e p o s i t i o n of the individuals w a s m a d e to
correspond t o h u m a n ideas of m o r a l merit w o u l d therefore be the
exact opposite of a free society. It w o u l d be a society in w h i c h
People were r e w a r d e d for d u t y p e r f o r m e d instead of for success, in
which every m o v e of every individual w a s g u i d e d by w h a t other
People t h o u g h t h e o u g h t t o d o , a n d in w h i c h t h e individual w a s
t h u s
relieved of the responsibility a n d the risk of decision. But if
n o b o d y ' s knowledge is sufficient t o guide all h u m a n action, there
is also n o h u m a n being w h o is competent t o r e w a r d all efforts
according t o merit.
In our individual conduct we generally act on the a s s u m p t i o n
that it is the value of a person's performance a n d not his merit t h a t
determines our obligation to him. Whatever may be true in m o r e
intimate relations, in the ordinary business of life we d o n o t feel
that, because a m a n has rendered us a service at a great sacrifice,
our debt to h i m is determined by this, so long as w e could h a v e h a d
the same service provided w i t h ease by s o m e b o d y else. In o u r
dealings with other men we feel tht w e are doing justice if we
recompense value rendered w i t h equal value, w i t h o u t enquiring
what it might have cost the particular individual t o supply us w i t h
these services. W h a t determines o u r responsibility is the a d v a n t a g e
we derive from w h a t others offer us, n o t their merit in providing it.
W e also expect in our dealings with others to be r e m u n e r a t e d n o t
according t o our subjective merit but according to w h a t o u r
services are w o r t h to them. Indeed, so long as we t h i n k in t e r m s of
our relations to particular people, we are generally quite a w a r e t h a t
the m a r k of the free m a n is to be dependent for his livelihood n o t on
other people's views of his merit but solely o n w h a t he has to
offer them. It is only when we think of o u r position o r o u r income
as determined by 'society' as a whole that we d e m a n d r e w a r d
according to merit.
T h o u g h m o r a l value or merit is a species of value, n o t all value is
moral value, and most of o u r judgements of value are n o t m o r a l
judgements. T h a t this must be so in a free society is a p o i n t of
cardinal importance; and the failure to distinguish between value
and merit has been the source of serious confusion. W e d o n o t
necessarily admire all activities whose p r o d u c t w e value; a n d in
most instances where we value w h a t we get, w e are in n o p o s i t i o n
to assess the merit of those w h o have provided it for us. If a m a n ' s
ability in a given field is more valuable after thirty years' w o r k t h a n
it was earlier, this is independent of whether these thirty years w e r e
most profitable and enjoyable or w h e t h e r they w e r e a time of
unceasing sacrifice and w o r r y . If the pursuit of a h o b b y p r o d u c e s a
special skill or an accidental invention t u r n s o u t t o be extremely
useful to o t h e r s , the fact that there is little merit in it does m a k e it
any less valuable t h a n if the result h a d been p r o d u c e d by painful
effort.
This difference between value and merit is not peculiar t o any
one type of society - it would exist anywhere. W e might, of course,
attempt to m a k e r e w a r d s correspond to merit instead of value, but
we are n o t likely t o succeed in this. In attempting it, we would
destroy the incentives which enable people to decide for themselves
w h a t they should d o . M o r e o v e r , it is m o r e than doubtful whether
even a fairly successful a t t e m p t to m a k e rewards correspond to
merit w o u l d p r o d u c e a m o r e attractive or even a tolerable social
order. A society in w h i c h it w a s generally presumed that a high
income w a s proof of merit a n d a low income of the lack of it, in
which it w a s universally believed t h a t position and remuneration
c o r r e s p o n d e d t o merit, in which there was n o other r o a d to success
than the a p p r o v a l of o n e ' s c o n d u c t by the majority of one's fellows,
w o u l d p r o b a b l y be m u c h m o r e u n b e a r a b l e to the unsuccessful ones
than o n e in which it w a s frankly recognized that there was no
15
necessary c o n n e c t i o n between merit and s u c c e s s .
It w o u l d p r o b a b l y c o n t r i b u t e more t o h u m a n happiness if,
instead of trying t o m a k e r e m u n e r a t i o n correspond to merit, we
m a d e clearer h o w uncertain is the connection between value and
merit. W e are p r o b a b l y all m u c h t o o ready to ascribe personal merit
w h e r e there is, in fact, only superior value. The possession by
an individual or a g r o u p of a superior civilization or education
certainly represents an i m p o r t a n t value a n d constitutes as asset for
the c o m m u n i t y t o w h i c h they belong; b u t it usually constitutes little
merit. P o p u l a r i t y a n d esteem d o n o t depend more on merit than
does financial success. It is, in fact, largely because we are so used to
assuming an often non-existent merit wherever we find value that
we balk w h e n , in particular instances, the discrepancy is too large
to be ignored.
T h e r e is every r e a s o n w h y w e o u g h t to endeavour to h o n o u r
special merit w h e r e it has gone w i t h o u t adequate reward. But the
p r o b l e m of r e w a r d i n g action of o u t s t a n d i n g merit which we wish to
be widely k n o w n as a n e x a m p l e is different from t h a t of the
incentives o n w h i c h the o r d i n a r y functioning of society rests. A free
society p r o d u c e s institutions in which, for those w h o prefer it, a
m a n ' s a d v a n c e m e n t d e p e n d s o n the judgement of some superior or
of the majority of his fellows. Indeed, as organizations grow larger
a n d m o r e c o m p l e x , the task of ascertaining the individual's
c o n t r i b u t i o n will b e c o m e m o r e difficult; a n d it will become
increasingly necessary t h a t , for m a n y , merit in the eyes of the
m a n a g e r s r a t h e r t h a n the ascertainable value of the contribution
should d e t e r m i n e the r e w a r d s . So long as this does n o t produce a
situation in which a single comprehensive scale of merit is imposed
u p o n the w h o l e society, so long as a multiplicity of organizations
compete with one another in offering different prospects, this is not
merely compatible with freedom but extends the range of choice
open to the individual.
(9) Justice, like liberty and coercion, is a concept w h i c h , for the

sake of clarity, ought t o be confined to the deliberate t r e a t m e n t of
men by other men. It is an aspect of the intentional d e t e r m i n a t i o n
of those conditions of people's lives that are subject t o such control.
Insofar as we w a n t the efforts of individuals to be guided by their
o w n views a b o u t prospects a n d chances, the results of the
individual's efforts are necessarily unpredictable, a n d the question
as to whether the resulting distribution of incomes is just has n o
16
m e a n i n g . Justice does require that those conditions of people's
lives that are determined by government be provided equally for all.
But equality of those conditions must lead to inequality of results.
Neither the equal provision of particular public facilities nor the
equal treatment of different partners in o u r voluntary dealings with
one a n o t h e r will secure r e w a r d that is p r o p o r t i o n a l t o merit.
Reward for merit is reward for obeying the wishes of o t h e r s in w h a t
we d o , not compensation for the benefits w e have conferred u p o n
them by doing w h a t we t h o u g h t best.
It is, in fact, one of the objections against attempts by govern
ment to fix income scales that the state must a t t e m p t t o be just in all
it does. O n c e the principle of r e w a r d according t o merit is accepted
as the just foundation for the distribution of incomes, justice w o u l d
require that all w h o desire it s h o u l d be r e w a r d e d a c c o r d i n g t o t h a t
principle. Soon it w o u l d also be d e m a n d e d t h a t the s a m e principle
be applied t o all and t h a t incomes not in p r o p o r t i o n to recognizable
merit n o t be tolerated. Even a n a t t e m p t merely t o distinguish
between those incomes or gains which are ' e a r n e d ' a n d those which
are not will set u p a principle which the state will have t o try to
17
apply but c a n n o t in fact apply g e n e r a l l y . A n d every such a t t e m p t
at deliberate control of some r e m u n e r a t i o n s is b o u n d t o create
further d e m a n d s for new controls. T h e principle of distributive
justice, once introduced, w o u l d n o t be fulfilled until the w h o l e of
society was organized in accordance with it. This w o u l d p r o d u c e a
kind of society which in all essential respects w o u l d be the opposite
of a free society - a society in which authority decided w h a t the
individual w a s t o d o and h o w h e w a s t o d o it.
(10) In conclusion w e must briefly look at a n o t h e r a r g u m e n t o n

which the d e m a n d s for a m o r e equal distribution are frequently
based, t h o u g h it is rarely explicitly stated. This is t h e contention
that m e m b e r s h i p in a p a r t i c u l a r c o m m u n i t y or nation entitles the
individual t o a p a r t i c u l a r material standard that is determined by
the general wealth of the g r o u p to which he belongs. This demand
is in curious conflict with the desire to base distribution on personal
merit. T h e r e is clearly n o merit in being born into a particular
c o m m u n i t y , a n d n o a r g u m e n t of justice can be based on the
accident of a p a r t i c u l a r individual's being b o r n in one place rather
than a n o t h e r . A relatively wealthy community in fact regularly
confers a d v a n t a g e s o n its poorest members u n k n o w n to those born
in p o o r c o m m u n i t i e s . In a wealthy c o m m u n i t y the only justification
its m e m b e r s can have for insisting on further advantages is that
there is m u c h private wealth that the government can confiscate
and redistribute a n d t h a t men w h o constantly see such wealth being
enjoyed by others will have a stronger desire for it than those w h o
k n o w of it only abstractly, if at all.
There is n o o b v i o u s reason w h y the joint efforts of the members
of any g r o u p to ensure the m a i n t e n a n c e of law and order and to
organize the provision of certain services should give the members a
claim t o a p a r t i c u l a r share in the wealth of this group. Such claims
would be especially difficult to defend where those w h o advanced
t h e m w e r e unwilling t o concede the same rights to those w h o did
not belong to the s a m e nation or community. The recognition of
such claims on a n a t i o n a l scale would in fact only create a new kind
of collective (but n o t less exclusive) property right in the resources
of the nation t h a t could n o t be justified o n the same grounds as
individual p r o p e r t y . Few people w o u l d be prepared to recognize the
justice of these d e m a n d s on a world scale. And the bare fact that
within a given n a t i o n the majority h a d the actual p o w e r to enforce
such d e m a n d s , while in the world as a whole it did not yet have it,
w o u l d hardly m a k e t h e m m o r e just.
T h e r e are g o o d reasons w h y we should endeavour to use
w h a t e v e r political o r g a n i z a t i o n we have at our disposal to make
provision for the w e a k or infirm or for the victims of unforeseeable
disaster. It m a y well be true that the most effective method of
providing against certain risks c o m m o n to all citizens of a state is to
give every citizen p r o t e c t i o n against those risks. The level on which
such provisions against c o m m o n risks can be m a d e will necessarily
depend o n the general wealth of the c o m m u n i t y .
It is a n entirely different m a t t e r , however, to suggest that those
w h o are p o o r , merely in the sense that there are those in the same
c o m m u n i t y w h o are richer, are entitled t o a share in the wealth of
the latter o r t h a t being b o r n into a group that has reached a
particular level of civilization a n d comfort confers a title to a share
in all its benefits. T h e fact t h a t all citizens have an interest in the
c o m m o n provision of some services is n o justification for anyone's
claiming as a right a share in all the benefits. It may set a s t a n d a r d
for w h a t some ought t o be willing to give, but n o t for w h a t a n y o n e
can demand.
National groups will become m o r e and more exclusive as the
acceptance of this view that we have been c o n t e n d i n g against
spreads. Rather t h a n admit people t o the advantages that living in
their country offers, a nation will prefer to keep t h e m o u t
altogether; for, once admitted, they will soon claim as a right a
particular share in its wealth. T h e conception that citizenship or
even residence in a country confers a claim t o a particular s t a n d a r d
of living is becoming a serious source of international friction. And
since the only justification for applying the principle w i t h i n a given
country is t h a t its government has the p o w e r to enforce it, we m u s t
not be surprised if we find the same principle being applied by force
on an international scale. O n c e the right of the majority to the
benefits that minorities enjoy is recognized o n a national scale,
there is n o reason w h y this should stop at the b o u n d a r i e s of the
existing states.
NOTES
The quotation at the head of the chapter is taken from The Holmes-Laski
Letters: The Correspondence of Mr Justice Holmes and Harold ]. Laski,
1916-35 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1953), n, p. 942. A
German translation of an earlier version of this chapter has appeared in
Ordo, vol. x (1958).
1
See, e.g., R. H. Tawney, Equality (London, 1931), p. 47.
2
Roger J. Williams, Free and Unequal: The Biological Basis of Indi
vidual Liberty (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1953), pp. 23 and 70;
cf. also J. B. S. Haldane, The Inequality of Man (London, 1932), and
P. B. Medawar, The Uniqueness of the Individual (London, 1957).
3
Williams, Free and Unequal, p. 152.
See the description of this fashionable view in H. M. Kallen's article
'Behaviorism', £55, n, p. 498: 'At birth human infants, regardless of
their heredity, are as equal as Fords.'
Cf. Plato Laws vi. 757A: 'To unequals equals become unequal.'
6
Cf. F. H. Knight, Freedom and Reform (New York, 1947), p. 151:
'There is no visible reason why anyone is more or less entitled to the
earnings of inherited personal capacities than to those of inherited
property in any other form'; and the discussion in W. Roepke, Mass
und Mitte (Erlenbach and Zurich, 1950), pp. 6 5 - 7 5 .
This is the position of R. H. Tawney as summarized by J. P. Plamenatz,
'Equality of Opportunity', in Aspects of Human Equality, ed. L. Bryson
and others (New York, 1956), p. 100.
C. A. R. Crosland, The Future of Socialism (London, 1956), p. 205.
J. S. Mill, On Liberty, ed. R. B. McCallum (Oxford, 1946), p. 70.
Cf. W. B. Gallie, 'Liberal Morality and Socialist Morality', in Philoso
phy, Politics, and Society, ed. P. Lasletr (Oxford, 1956), pp. 123-5. The
author represents it as the essence of 'liberal morality' that it claims that
rewards are equal to merit in a free society. This was the position of
some nineteenth-century liberals which often weakened their argument.
A characteristic example is W. G. Sumner, who argued (What Social
Classes Owe to Each Other, reprinted in Freeman, vi (Los Angeles,
n.d.), 141) that if all 'have equal chances so far as chances are provided
or limited by society', this will 'produce unequal results - that is results
which shall be proportioned to the merits of individuals.' This is true
only if 'merit' is used in the sense in which we have used 'value', without
any moral connotations, but certainly not if it is meant to suggest
proportionality to any endeavour to do the good or right thing, or to
any subjective effort to conform to an ideal standard.
But, as we shall presently see, Mr Gallie is right that, in the
Aristotelian terms he uses, liberalism aims at commutative justice and
socialism at distributive justice. But, like most socialists, he does not see
that distributive justice is irreconcilable with freedom in the choice of
one's activities: it is the justice of a hierarchic organization, not of a free
society.
Although I believe that this distinction between merit and value is the
same as that which Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas had in mind when
they distinguished 'distributive justice' from 'commutative justice', 1
prefer not to tie up the discussion with all the difficulties and confusions
which in the course of time have become associated with these
traditional concepts. That what we call here 'reward according to merit'
corresponds to the Aristotelian distributive justice seems clear. The
difficult concept is that of 'commutative justice', and to speak of justice
in this sense seems always to cause a little confusion. Cf. M. Solomon,
Der Begriffder Gerechtigkeit bei Aristoteles (Leiden, 1937); and for a
survey of the extensive literature G. del Vecchio, Die Gerechtigkeit (2nd
ed.: Basel, 1950).
The terminological difficulties arise from the fact that we use the word
merit also in an objective sense and will speak of the 'merit' of an idea, a
book, or a picture, irrespective of the merit acquired by the person who
has created them. Sometimes the word is also used to describe what we
regard as the 'true' value of some achievement as distinguished from its
market value. Yet even a human achievement which has the greatest
value or merit in this sense is not necessarily proof of moral merit on the
part of him to whom it is due. It seems that our use has the sanction of
philosophical tradition. Cf., for instance, D. Hume, Treatise, n, p. 252:
'The external performance has no merit. We must look within to find
the moral quality. . . . The ultimate object of our praise and approba
tion is the motive, that produc'd them.'
1 3
Cf. the important essay by A. A. Alchian, 'Uncertainty, Evolution, and
Economic Theory', JPE, LVUI (1950), especially pp. 213-14, Sec, n,
headed 'Success Is Based on Results, Not Motivation'. It probably is
also no accident that the American economist who has done most to
advance our understanding of a free society, F. H. Knight, began his
professional career with a study of Risk, Uncertainty, and Profit. Cf.
also B. de Jouvenel, Power (London, 1948), p. 298.
1 4
It is often maintained that justice requires that remuneration be
proportional to the unpleasantness of the job and that for this reason
the street cleaner or the sewage worker ought to be paid more than the
doctor or office worker. This, indeed, would seem to be the consequence
of the principle of remuneration according to merit (or 'distributive
justice'). In a market such a result would come about only if all people
were equally skilful in all jobs so that those who could earn as much as
others in the more pleasant occupations would have to be paid more to
undertake the distasteful ones. In the actual world those unpleasant jobs
provide those whose usefulness in the more attractive jobs is small an
opportunity to earn more than they could elsewhere. That persons who
have little to offer their fellows should be able to earn an income similar
to that of the rest only at a much greater sacrifice is inevitable in any
arrangement under which the individual is allowed to choose his own
sphere of usefulness.
15
Cf. Crosland, The Future of Socialism, p. 235: 'Even if all the failures
could be convinced that they had an equal chance, their discontent
would still not be assuaged; indeed it might actually be intensified.
When opportunities are known to be unequal, and the selection clearly
biased towards wealth or lineage, people can comfort themselves for
failure by saying that they never had a proper chance - the system was
unfair, the scales too heavily weighted against them. But if the selection
is obviously by merit, this source of comfort disappears, and failure
induces a total sense of inferiority, with no excuse or consolation; and
this, by a natural quirk of human nature, actually increases the envy and
resentment at the success of others.' Cf. also ch. 24, at n. 8.1 have not
yet seen Michael Young, The Rise of the Meritocracy (London, 1958),
which, judging from reviews, appears to bring out these problems very
clearly.
1 6
See the interesting discussion in R. G. Collingwood, 'Economics as a
Philosophical Science', Ethics, vol. xxxvi (1926), who concludes
(p. 174): 'A just price, a just wage, a just rate of interest, is a
contradiction in terms. The question what a person ought to get in
return for his goods and labor is a question absolutely devoid of
meaning. The only valid questions are what he can get in return for his
goods or labor, and whether he ought to sell them at all.'
It is, of course, possible to give the distinction between 'earned' and
'unearned' incomes, gains, or increments a fairly precise legal meaning,
but it then rapidly ceases to correspond to the moral distinction which
provides its justification. Any serious attempt to apply the moral
distinction in practice soon meets the same insuperable difficulties as
any attempt to assess subjective merit. How little these difficulties are
generally understood by philosophers (except in rare instances, as that
quoted in the preceding note) is well illustrated by a discussion in L. S.
Stebbing, Thinking to Some Purpose (Pelican Books-. London, 1939),
p. 184, in which, as an illustration of a distinction which is clear but not
sharp, she chooses that between 'legitimate' and 'excess' profits and
asserts: 'The distinction is clear between "excess profits" (or "profiteer
ing") and "legitimate profits", although it is not a sharp distinction.'
5
Robert Nozick: Moral Constraints
and Distributive Justice*
THE M I N I M A L STATE A N D THE

ULTRAMINIMAL STATE
T h e night-watchman state of classical liberal theory, limited to the

functions of protecting all its citizens against violence, theft, a n d
fraud, and to the enforcement of contracts, a n d so o n , a p p e a r s to
1
be redistributive. We can imagine at least one social a r r a n g e m e n t
intermediate between the scheme of private protective associa
tions and the night-watchman state. Since the n i g h t - w a t c h m a n
state is often called a minimal state, w e shall call this o t h e r a r r a n g e
ment the ultraminimal state. An ultraminimal state m a i n t a i n s a
monopoly over all use of force except that necessary in i m m e d i a t e
self-defence, a n d so excludes private (or agency) retaliation for
w r o n g a n d exaction of compensation; b u t it provides protection
and enforcement services only t o those w h o purchase its protec
tion and enforcement policies. People w h o d o n ' t buy a protection
contract from the m o n o p o l y d o n ' t get p r o t e c t e d . T h e m i n i m a l
(night-watchman) state is equivalent t o the u l t r a m i n i m a l state
conjoined with a (clearly redistributive) F r i e d m a n e s q u e v o u c h e r
2
plan, financed from tax r e v e n u e s . Under this p l a n all people, or
some (for example, those in need), are given tax-funded vouchers
t h a t can be used only for their purchase of a p r o t e c t i o n policy from
the ultraminimal state.
Since the night-watchman state a p p e a r s redistributive t o the
extent that it compels some people t o pay for the p r o t e c t i o n of
others, its p r o p o n e n t s must explain w h y this redistributive function
* From Anarchy, State and Utopia, by Robert Nozick © 1974 by Basic

Books, Inc., Publishers. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
Robert Nozick 101
of the state is u n i q u e . If s o m e r e d i s t r i b u t i o n is legitimate in o r d e r to
protect everyone, w h y is r e d i s t r i b u t i o n n o t legitimate for other
attractive a n d desirable p u r p o s e s as well? W h a t r a t i o n a l e speci
fically selects protective services as the sole subject of legitimate
redistributive activities? A r a t i o n a l e , o n c e f o u n d , m a y s h o w t h a t
this provision of p r o t e c t i v e service is not redistributive. M o r e
precisely, the t e r m ' r e d i s t r i b u t i v e ' applies to types of reasons for an
arrangement, r a t h e r t h a n t o an a r r a n g e m e n t itself. W e might
elliptically call a n a r r a n g e m e n t ' r e d i s t r i b u t i v e ' if its m a j o r (only
possible) s u p p o r t i n g r e a s o n s are themselves redistributive. ('Pater
nalistic' functions similarly.) F i n d i n g c o m p e l l i n g non-redistributive
reasons w o u l d cause us t o d r o p this label. W h e t h e r w e say a n
institution that takes m o n e y from s o m e a n d gives it to others is
redistributive will d e p e n d u p o n why w e t h i n k it does so. R e t u r n i n g
stolen money or c o m p e n s a t i n g for v i o l a t i o n s of rights are not
redistributive r e a s o n s . I have s p o k e n until n o w of the night-
watchman state's appearing t o be redistributive, to leave o p e n the
possibility that n o n - r e d i s t r i b u t i v e types of r e a s o n s m i g h t be found
to justify the provision of p r o t e c t i v e services for some by o t h e r s .
A p r o p o n e n t of the u l t r a m i n i m a l state m a y seem t o occupy a n
inconsistent position, even t h o u g h h e avoids the question of w h a t
makes protection u n i q u e l y suitable for redistributive provision.
Greatly concerned t o p r o t e c t rights against violation, he m a k e s this
the sole function of t h e s t a t e ; a n d he p r o t e s t s t h a t all other
functions are illegitimate because they themselves involve the
violation of rights. Since h e a c c o r d s p a r a m o u n t place t o the
protection and n o n - v i o l a t i o n of rights, h o w c a n he s u p p o r t the
ultraminimal state, w h i c h w o u l d seem t o leave s o m e p e r s o n ' s rights
unprotected or ill-protected? H o w can he s u p p o r t this in the name
of the non-violation of rights?
MORAL CONSTRAINTS AND MORAL GOALS
This question assumes t h a t a m o r a l c o n c e r n can function only as a

moral goal, as an e n d state for s o m e activities t o achieve as t h e n
result. It m a y , indeed, seem t o b e a necessary t r u t h t h a t ' r i g h t ,
'ought', 'should', a n d s o o n , a r e t o b e e x p l a i n e d in t e r m s of w h a t is,
or is intended t o be, p r o d u c t i v e of t h e greatest g o o d , w i t h all goals
huilt into the g o o d / T h u s it is often t h o u g h t t h a t w h a t is w r o n g
with utilitarianism (which is of this form) is its t o o n a r r o w
conception of g o o d . U t i l i t a r i a n i s m d o e s n ' t , it is said, p r o p e r l y take
ngnts and their n o n - v i o l a t i o n i n t o a c c o u n t ; it i n s t e a d leaves t h e m a
102 Moral Constraints and Distributive justice
derivative status. M a n y of the c o u n t e r - e x a m p l e cases t o utilitarian
ism fit under this objection, for e x a m p l e , p u n i s h i n g an innocent
man to save a n e i g h b o u r h o o d from a vengeful r a m p a g e . But a
theory m a y include in a primary w a y the non-violation of rights, yet
include it in the w r o n g place a n d t h e w r o n g m a n n e r . F o r suppose
some condition a b o u t minimizing the total (weighted) a m o u n t of
violations of rights is built into the desirable e n d state t o be
achieved. W e then w o u l d have something like a 'utilitarianism of
rights'; violations of rights (to be minimized) merely w o u l d replace
the total happiness as the relevant e n d state in t h e utilitarian
structure. (Note t h a t w e d o n o t hold t h e non-violation of o u r rights
as our sole greatest good or even r a n k it first lexicographically to
exclude trade-offs, if there is some desirable society w e would
choose t o inhabit even t h o u g h in it some rights of o u r s sometimes
are violated, rather than move to a desert island w h e r e we could
survive alone.) This still w o u l d require us t o violate someone's
rights w h e n doing so minimizes the total (weighted) a m o u n t of
violation of rights in the society. For e x a m p l e , violating someone's
rights might deflect others from their intended action of gravely
violating rights, or might remove their motive for d o i n g s o , or
might divert their attention, a n d so o n . A m o b r a m p a g i n g t h r o u g h a
part of t o w n killing a n d burning will violate the rights of those
living there. Therefore, someone might try t o justify his p u n i s h i n g
another he k n o w s to be innocent of a crime that enraged a m o b , on
the grounds that punishing this innocent person w o u l d help t o
avoid even greater violations of rights by others, a n d s o w o u l d lead
to a minimum weighted score of rights violations in the society.
In contrast to incorporating rights into t h e e n d state t o be
achieved, one might place them as side constraints u p o n t h e actions
to be d o n e : d o n ' t violate constraints C. T h e rights of others
determine the constraints u p o n your actions. (A goal-directed view
with constraints added w o u l d be: a m o n g those acts available t o you
that d o n ' t violate constraints C, act so as to maximize goal G. Here,
the rights of others w o u l d constrain your goal-directed behaviour.
1 d o n o t mean t o imply that the correct moral view includes
mandatory goals that must be pursued, even within the con
straints.) This view differs from o n e t h a t tries t o build t h e side
constraints C into the goal G. The side-constraint view forbids you
to violate these moral constraints in the pursuit of your goals;
whereas the view whose objective is too minimize the violation of
these rights allows you to violate the rights (the constraints) in
4
order to lessen their total violation in the society.
The claim that the proponent of the ultraminimal state is
Robert Nozick 103
inconsistent, we n o w can see, a s s u m e s t h a t h e is a ' u t i l i t a r i a n of
rights'. It assumes t h a t his goal is, for e x a m p l e , t o m i n i m i z e the
weighted a m o u n t of t h e violation of rights in t h e society, a n d t h a t
he should p u r s u e this g o a l even t h r o u g h m e a n s t h a t themselves
violate people's rights. I n s t e a d , h e m a y p l a c e t h e n o n - v i o l a t i o n of
rights as a constraint u p o n a c t i o n , r a t h e r t h a n (or in a d d i t i o n to)
building it into the end state t o be realized. T h e p o s i t i o n held by this
proponent of the u l t r a m i n i m a l state will b e a c o n s i s t e n t o n e if his
conception of rights h o l d s t h a t y o u r being forced t o c o n t r i b u t e
to another's welfare violates y o u r rights, w h e r e a s s o m e o n e else's
not providing you w i t h things y o u n e e d g r e a t l y , i n c l u d i n g things
essential to the p r o t e c t i o n of y o u r rights, d o e s n o t itself viol ate y o u r
rights, even t h o u g h it a v o i d s m a k i n g it m o r e difficult for s o m e o n e
else to violate t h e m . (That c o n c e p t i o n will be consistent p r o v i d e d it
does not construe the m o n o p o l y e l e m e n t of t h e u l t r a m i n i m a l state
as itself a violation of rights.) T h a t it is a c o n s i s t e n t p o s i t i o n d o e s
not, of course, show t h a t it is an a c c e p t a b l e o n e .
1
WHY SIDE CONSTRAINTS.'
Isn't it irrational t o accept a side c o n s t r a i n t C , r a t h e r t h a n a view

that directs minimizing t h e v i o l a t i o n s of C? (The latter view treats
C as a condition r a t h e r t h a n a c o n s t r a i n t . ) If n o n - v i o l a t i o n of C is
so important, s h o u l d n ' t t h a t be the goal? H o w can a c o n c e r n for the
non-violation of C lead t o the refusal t o v i o l a t e C even w h e n this
would prevent other m o r e extensive v i o l a t i o n s of C? W h a t is t h e
rationale for placing the n o n - v i o l a t i o n of rights as a side c o n s t r a i n t
upon action instead of including it solely as a g o a l of o n e ' s actions?
Side constraints u p o n action reflect the u n d e r l y i n g K a n t i a n
principle that individuals are e n d s a n d n o t merely m e a n s ; they m a y
not be sacrificed or u s e d for the achieving of o t h e r e n d s w i t h o u t
their consent. Individuals are inviolable. M o r e s h o u l d be said t o
illuminate this talk of e n d s a n d m e a n s . C o n s i d e r a p r i m e e x a m p l e
of a means, a tool. T h e r e is n o side c o n s t r a i n t o n h o w w e m a y use a
tool, other t h a n the m o r a l c o n s t r a i n t s o n h o w w e m a y use it u p o n
others. There are p r o c e d u r e s t o b e followed t o preserve it for future
use ('don't leave it o u t in the r a i n ' ) , a n d t h e r e are m o r e a n d less
efficient ways of using it. B u t t h e r e is n o limit o n w h a t w e m a y d o
to it to best achieve o u r g o a l s . N o w i m a g i n e t h a t t h e r e w a s a n
overrideable c o n s t r a i n t C o n s o m e t o o l ' s use. F o r e x a m p l e , t h e tool
might have been lent t o y o u o n l y o n the c o n d i t i o n t h a t C n o t b e
violated unless the gain from d o i n g so w a s a b o v e a certain specified
104 Moral Constraints and Distributive Justice
a m o u n t , or unless it w a s necessary t o achieve a certain specified
goal. H e r e t h e object is n o t completely y o u r t o o l , for use according
t o your wish or w h i m . But it is a tool nevertheless, even w i t h regard
t o the overrideable constraint. If we a d d c o n s t r a i n t s o n its use that
m a y n o t be overridden, t h e n the object m a y n o t be used as a tool in
those ways. In those respects, it is n o t a tool at all. C a n o n e add
enough constraints so that an object c a n n o t be used as a tool at all,
in any respect?
Can behaviour t o w a r d s a person be c o n s t r a i n e d so t h a t he is not
to be used for any e n d except as he chooses? T h i s is a n impossibly
stringent condition if it requires everyone w h o provides us with a
good t o a p p r o v e positively of every use t o w h i c h w e wish t o put it.
Even the requirement that he merely s h o u l d n o t object t o any use
we plan w o u l d seriously curtail bilateral e x c h a n g e , n o t t o mention
sequences of such exchanges. It is sufficient t h a t t h e o t h e r party
stands t o gain enough from the e x c h a n g e so that he is willing to go
t h r o u g h with it, even t h o u g h he objects t o o n e o r m o r e of t h e uses
to which y o u shall p u t the good. U n d e r such c o n d i t i o n s , the other
party is n o t being used solely as a m e a n s , in t h a t respect. Another
party, however, w h o w o u l d not choose t o interact with y o u if he
k n e w of t h e uses t o w h i c h you intend t o p u t his a c t i o n s o r g o o d , is
being used as a m e a n s , even if he receives e n o u g h t o choose (in his
ignorance) t o interact w i t h you. ('All along, y o u w e r e just using m e '
can be said by s o m e o n e w h o chose t o interact only because he was
ignorant of a n o t h e r ' s goals and of t h e uses t o w h i c h he himself
w o u l d be put.) Is it morally i n c u m b e n t u p o n s o m e o n e t o reveal his
intended uses of an interaction if he h a s g o o d reason t o believe the
other w o u l d refuse t o interact if he k n e w ? Is h e using t h e other
person, if he does n o t reveal this? A n d w h a t of t h e cases w h e r e the
other does not choose to be of use a t all? In getting pleasure from
seeing a n attractive person g o by, does o n e use t h e o t h e r solely a s
5
a m e a n s ? D o e s s o m e o n e so use a n object of sexual fantasies?
These a n d related questions raise very interesting issues for moral
philosophy; b u t n o t , I think, for political philosophy.
Political philosophy is concerned only with certain w a y s t h a t
persons may not use others; primarily, physically aggressing against
them. A specific side constraint u p o n action t o w a r d s others
expresses the fact that others may n o t be used in the specific w a y s
the side constraint excludes. Side constraints express t h e inviolabil
ity of others, in the ways they specify. These modes of inviolability
are expressed by the following injunction: 'Don't use people in
specified ways.' An end-state view, on the other hand, would
express the vtew that people are ends and not merely means (if it
Robert Nozick 105
chooses to express this view at all), by a different injunction:
'Minimize the use in specified w a y s of p e r s o n s as m e a n s . ' Following
this precept itself m a y involve using s o m e o n e as a m e a n s in one of
the ways specified. H a d K a n t held this view, h e w o u l d h a v e given
the second formula of t h e categorical i m p e r a t i v e a s , 'So act as to
minimize the use of h u m a n i t y simply as a m e a n s ' , r a t h e r t h a n the
one he actually used: ' A c t in such a w a y t h a t y o u always treat
humanity, w h e t h e r in y o u r o w n p e r s o n or in t h e person of any
other, never simply as a m e a n s , b u t a l w a y s at t h e same t i m e as an
6
end.'
Side constraints express the inviolability of o t h e r p e r s o n s . But
why may not one violate p e r s o n s for the g r e a t e r social good?
Individually, we each s o m e t i m e s c h o o s e t o u n d e r g o s o m e pain or
sacrifice for a greater benefit or t o avoid a greater h a r m : we go to
the dentist to avoid w o r s e suffering later; w e d o some u n p l e a s a n t
work for its results; s o m e p e r s o n s diet t o i m p r o v e their health or
looks; some save m o n e y t o s u p p o r t themselves w h e n they are older.
In each case, s o m e cost is b o r n e for the sake of the greater overall
good. W h y n o t , similarly, hold that some persons have to bear
some costs t h a t benefit o t h e r p e r s o n s m o r e , for the sake of the
overall social good? B u t t h e r e is n o social entity with a g o o d that
undergoes some sacrifice for its o w n g o o d . T h e r e a r e only
individual people, different individual p e o p l e , with their o w n
individual lives. Using o n e of these p e o p l e for t h e benefit of o t h e r s ,
uses him and benefits t h e o t h e r s . N o t h i n g m o r e . W h a t h a p p e n s is
that something is d o n e t o h i m for t h e sake of o t h e r s . T a l k of an
overall social g o o d covers this u p . (Intentionally?) T o use a person
in this way does n o t sufficiently respect a n d t a k e a c c o u n t of the fact
7
that he is a separate p e r s o n , t h a t his is the only life he h a s . He does
not get some o v e r b a l a n c i n g g o o d from his sacrifice, a n d n o o n e is
entitled to force this u p o n h i m - least of all a state or g o v e r n m e n t
that claims his allegiance (as o t h e r individuals d o not) a n d t h a t
therefore scrupulously m u s t be neutral b e t w e e n its citizens.
LIBERTARIAN CONSTRAINTS
The moral side c o n s t r a i n t s u p o n w h a t w e m a y d o , 1 claim, reflect

the fact of o u r s e p a r a t e existences. T h e y reflect the fact t h a t n o
moral balancing act c a n t a k e place a m o n g u s ; t h e r e is n o m o r a l
outweighing of o n e of o u r lives b y o t h e r s so as t o lead t o a greater
overall social g o o d . T h e r e is n o justified sacrifice of s o m e of u s tor
others. This r o o t idea, n a m e l y , t h a t t h e r e a r e different individuals
with separate lives a n d so n o o n e m a y b e sacrificed for others,
underlies the existence of m o r a l side c o n s t r a i n t s , but it also, 1
believe, leads to a libertarian side c o n s t r a i n t t h a t prohibits aggres
sion against a n o t h e r . . . .
II
DISTRIBUTIVE JUSTICE
T h e minimal state is the most extensive state t h a t c a n be justified.

Any state m o r e extensive violates p e o p l e ' s rights. Yet m a n y persons
have p u t forth reasons p u r p o r t i n g t o justify a m o r e extensive state.
It is impossible within the c o m p a s s of this b o o k t o e x a m i n e all the
reasons that have been p u t forth. Therefore, I shall focus upon
those generally acknowledged t o be most weighty a n d influential,
t o see precisely wherein they fail. H e r e we consider t h e claim that
a more extensive state is justified, because necessary (or the best
instrument) to achieve distributive justice; then we shall take up
diverse other claims.
The term 'distributive justice' is n o t a neutral o n e . Hearing
the term 'distribution', most people p r e s u m e that some thing or
mechanism uses some principle o r criterion t o give o u t a supply of
things. Into this process of distributing shares some e r r o r m a y have
crept. So it is an open question, a t least, w h e t h e r redistribution
should take place; whether w e s h o u l d d o again w h a t h a s already
been d o n e once, t h o u g h poorly. H o w e v e r , w e a r e n o t in the
position of children w h o have been given p o r t i o n s of pie by
someone w h o n o w makes last m i n u t e adjustments t o rectify
careless cutting. There is n o central distribution, n o person or
group entitled t o control all t h e resources, jointly deciding h o w they
are to be doled o u t . What each person gets, he gets from o t h e r s w h o
give t o him in exchange for something, o r as a gift. In a free society,
diverse persons control different resources, a n d n e w h o l d i n g s arise
out of the voluntary exchanges and actions of p e r s o n s . T h e r e is no
more a distributing or distribution of shares t h a n there is a
distributing of mates in a society in which persons c h o o s e w h o m
they shall marry. The total result is the product of m a n y individual
decisions which the different individuals involved a r e entitled t o
make. Some uses of the term 'distribution', it is true, do n o t imply a
previous distributing appropriately judged by some criterion (for
example, 'probability distribution'); nevertheless, despite the title of
this chapter, it would be best to use a terminology that clearly is
1 0 7
Robert Nozick
neutral. We shall speak of p e o p l e ' s h o l d i n g s ; a principle of justice in
holdings describes (part of) w h a t justice tells us (requires) a b o u t
holdings. 1 shall state first w h a t 1 t a k e t o be t h e c o r r e c t view a b o u t
justice in holdings, a n d t h e n t u r n t o t h e d i s c u s s i o n ot a l t e r n a t e
8
views.
THE ENTITLEMENT THEORY
The subject of justice in h o l d i n g s consists of t h r e e m a j o r topics. T h e

first is the original acquisition of holdings, t h e a p p r o p r i a t i o n of
unheld things. This includes t h e issues of h o w u n h e l d t h i n g s m a y
come to be held, the p r o c e s s , o r p r o c e s s e s , by w h i c h u n h e l d t h i n g s
may come to be held, t h e things t h a t m a y c o m e t o be held by these
processes, the extent of w h a t c o m e s t o be h e l d by a p a r t i c u l a r
process, and so o n . W e shall refer t o t h e c o m p l i c a t e d t r u t h a b o u t
this topic, which w e shall n o t f o r m u l a t e h e r e , as t h e p r i n c i p l e of
justice in acquisition. T h e s e c o n d t o p i c c o n c e r n s t h e transfer of
holdings from one person t o a n o t h e r . By w h a t p r o c e s s e s m a y a
person transfer holdings t o a n o t h e r ? H o w m a y a p e r s o n a c q u i r e a
holding from another w h o h o l d s it? U n d e r this t o p i c c o m e general
descriptions of v o l u n t a r y e x c h a n g e , a n d gift a n d (on t h e o t h e r
hand) fraud, as well as reference t o p a r t i c u l a r c o n v e n t i o n a l details
fixed upon in a given society. T h e c o m p l i c a t e d t r u t h a b o u t this
subject (with placeholders for c o n v e n t i o n a l details) w e shall
call the principle of justice in transfer. ( A n d w e shall s u p p o s e it
also includes principles g o v e r n i n g h o w a p e r s o n m a y divest himself
of a holding, passing it into a n u n h e l d state.)
If the world were wholly just, t h e f o l l o w i n g i n d u c t i v e definition
would exhaustively cover the subject of justice in h o l d i n g s .
(1) A person w h o a c q u i r e s a h o l d i n g in a c c o r d a n c e w i t h t h e
principle of justice in a c q u i s i t i o n is entitled t o t h a t h o l d i n g .
U) A person w h o a c q u i r e s a h o l d i n g in a c c o r d a n c e w i t h t h e
principle of justice in transfer,|from s o m e o n e else e n t i t l e d t o
the holding, is entitled t o t h e h o l d i n g .
(3) No one is entitled t o a h o l d i n g e x c e p t by (repeated)
applications of 1 a n d 2 .
a j - C o
Principle of distributive justice w o u l d say s i m p l y t h a t
m p l e t e
istnbution is just if e v e r y o n e is e n t i t l e d t o t h e h o l d i n g s they

Possess under t h e d i s t r i b u t i o n .
distribution is just if it arises f r o m a n o t h e r just d i s t r i b u t i o n
t liate m e a n s
distrih '- - The legitimate m e a n s of m o v i n g f r o m o n e
button to a n o t h e r are specified by the p r i n c i p l e of justice in
transfer. T h e legitimate first ' m o v e s ' are specified by the principle of
9
justice in acquisition. W h a t e v e r arises from a just situation by just
steps is itself just. T h e means of change specified by the principle of
justice in transfer preserve justice. As correct rules of inference are
truth-preserving, and any conclusion deduced via repeated applica
tion of such rules from only true premisses is itself t r u e , so the
means of transition from one situation to a n o t h e r specified by the
principle of justice in transfer are justice-preserving, a n d any
situation actually arising from repeated transitions in a c c o r d a n c e
with the principle from a just situation is itself just. T h e parallel
between justice-preserving transformations a n d truth-preserving
transformations illuminates where it fails as well as w h e r e it h o l d s .
T h a t a conclusion could have been deduced by truth-preserving
means from premisses t h a t are true suffices to s h o w its t r u t h . T h a t
from a just situation a situation could have arisen via justice-
preserving means does not suffice t o s h o w its justice. T h e fact t h a t a
thief's victims voluntarily could have presented him w i t h gifts does
not entitle the thief to his ill-gotten gains. Justice in holdings is
historical; it depends u p o n w h a t actually has h a p p e n e d . W e shall
return to this point later.
N o t all actual situations are generated in accordance with the
two principles of justice in holdings: the principle of justice in
acquisition and the principle of justice in transfer. Some p e o p l e
steal from others, or defraud them, or enslave t h e m , seizing their
product and preventing them from living as they choose, or forcibly
exclude others from competing in exchanges. N o n e of these are
permissible modes of transition from o n e situation t o a n o t h e r . A n d
some persons acquire holdings by m e a n s not sanctioned by the
principle of justice in acquisition. T h e existence of past injustice
(previous violations of the first t w o principles of justice in holdings)
raises the third major topic under justice in holdings: the rectifica
tion of injustice in holdings. If past injustice h a s shaped present
holdings in various ways, some identifiable and some not, w h a t
n o w , if anything, o u g h t to be done to rectify these injustices? W h a t
obligations d o the performers of injustice have t o w a r d s those
whose position is worse t h a n it w o u l d have been h a d the injustice
not been done? O r , t h a n it w o u l d h a v e been h a d c o m p e n s a t i o n
been paid promptly? H o w , if a t all, d o things change if the
beneficiaries a n d those m a d e worse off are n o t the direct parties in
the act of injustice, b u t , for e x a m p l e , their descendants? Is an
injustice d o n e to someone whose holding w a s itself based u p o n an
unrectified injustice? H o w far back must one go in wiping clean the
historical slate of injustices? W h a t m a y victims of injustice permiss-
Robert Nozick 109
ibly do in o r d e r to rectify the injustices being done to them,
including the m a n y injustices d o n e by persons acting through
their g o v e r n m e n t ? 1 d o n o t k n o w of a t h o r o u g h or theoretically
10
sophisticated t r e a t m e n t of such i s s u e s . idealizing greatly, let us
suppose theoretical investigation will p r o d u c e a principle of
rectification. This principle uses historical information about
previous situations a n d injustices d o n e in them (as defined by the
first t w o principles of justice a n d rights against interference), and
information a b o u t the actual course of events that flowed from
these injustices, until the present, and it yields a description (or
descriptions) of holdings in the society. The principle of rectifica
tion p r e s u m a b l y will m a k e use of its best estimate of subjunctive
information a b o u t w h a t w o u l d have occurred (or a probability
distribution over w h a t might have occurred, using the expected
value) if the injustice h a d n o t t a k e n place. If the actual description
of holdings t u r n s o u t n o t to be o n e of the descriptions yielded by
the principle, then o n e of the descriptions yielded must be
11
realized.
T h e general outlines of the theory of justice in holdings are that
the holdings of a p e r s o n are just if he is entitled to them by the
principles of justice in acquisition and transfer, or by the principle
of rectification of injustice (as specified by the first two principles).
If each p e r s o n ' s holdings are just, then the total set (distribution) of
holdings is just. T o turn these general outlines into a specific theory
we w o u l d h a v e to specify the details of each of the three principles
of justice in h o l d i n g s : the principle of acquisition of holdings, the
principle of transfer of holdings, and the principle of rectification of
violations of the first t w o principles. I shall not attempt that task
here.
HISTORICAL PRINCIPLES
AND END-RESULT PRINCIPLES
T h e general outlines of t h e entitlement theory illuminate the nature

a n d defects of o t h e r conceptions of distributive justice. The
entitlement t h e o r y of justice in distribution is historical; whether a
distribution is just d e p e n d s u p o n h o w it came a b o u t . In contrast,
current time-slice principles of justice hold that the justice of a
distribution is d e t e r m i n e d by h o w things are distributed (who has
w h a t ) as j u d g e d by s o m e structural principle(s) of just distribution.
A utilitarian w h o judges between any t w o distributions by seeing
which h a s the greater s u m of utility a n d , if the sums tie, applies
some fixed equality criterion to choose the m o r e equal distribution,
w o u l d hold a current time-slice principle of justice. As w o u l d
someone w h o had a fixed schedule of trade-offs between the sum
of happiness and equality. According to a current time-slice
principle, all that needs t o be looked at, in judging the justice of
a distribution, is w h o ends up with w h a t ; in c o m p a r i n g any t w o
distributions one need look only a t the m a t r i x presenting the
distributions. N o further information need be fed into a principle of
justice. It is a consequence of such principles of justice t h a t any t w o
structurally identical distributions are equally just. ( T w o distri
butions are structurally identical if they present the same profile,
but perhaps have different persons occupying the particular slots.
M y having ten a n d your having five, a n d my having five a n d your
having ten are structurally identical distributions.) "Welfare econ
omics is the theory of current time-slice principles of justice. T h e
subject is conceived as operating o n matrices representing only
current information a b o u t distribution. This, as well as s o m e of the
usual conditions (for example, the choice of distribution is
invariant under relabelling of columns), g u a r a n t e e s t h a t welfare
economics will be a current time-slice theory, with all of its
inadequacies.
M o s t persons do not accept c u r r e n t time-slice principles as
constituting the whole story about distributive shares. T h e y t h i n k it
relevant in assessing the justice of a situation to consider n o t only
the distribution it embodies, but also h o w t h a t distribution came
a b o u t . If some persons are in prison for m u r d e r or war crimes, w e
d o not say that t o assess the justice of the distribution in the society
we must look only at w h a t this person has, a n d t h a t person h a s , a n d
that person has . . . at the current t i m e . W e t h i n k it relevant t o ask
whether someone did something so t h a t h e deserved t o be punished,
deserved t o have a lower share. M o s t will agree to the relevance of
further information with regard t o p u n i s h m e n t s and penalties.
Consider also desired things. O n e traditional socialist view is t h a t
workers are entitled to the p r o d u c t and full fruits of their l a b o u r ;
they have earned it; a distribution is unjust if it does not give the
workers w h a t they are entitled to. Such entitlements are based u p o n
some past history. N o socialist h o l d i n g this view w o u l d find it
comforting to b e told that because the actual distribution A
happens to coincide structurally w i t h the o n e h e desires D , A.
therefore is n o less just t h a n D ; it differs only in t h a t the 'parasitic'
o w n e r s of capital receive under A w h a t the w o r k e r s are entitled to
u n d e r D , and the workers receive u n d e r A w h a t the o w n e r s are
entitled t o under D , namely very little. This socialist rightly, in my
view, holds on t o the n o t i o n s of earning, p r o d u c i n g , entitlement,
Robert Nozick 111
desert, and so forth, a n d he rejects current time-slice principles that
look only to the structure of the resulting set of holdings. (The set
of holdings resulting from w h a t ? Isn't it implausible that how
holdings are p r o d u c e d a n d come to exist has no effect at all on who
should hold w h a t ? ) His mistake lies in his view of w h a t entitlements
arise out of w h a t sorts of productive processes.
We construe the position we discuss t o o narrowly by speaking of
current time-slice principles. N o t h i n g is changed if structural prin
ciples o p e r a t e u p o n a t i m e sequence of current time-slice profiles
and, for e x a m p l e , give s o m e o n e m o r e n o w to counterbalance the
less he has h a d earlier. A utilitarian or an egalitarian or any mixture
of the t w o over time will inherit the difficulties of his more myopic
comrades. H e is not helped by the fact t h a t some of the information
others consider relevant in assessing a distribution is reflected,
unrecoverably, in past matrices. Henceforth, we shall refer to such
unhistorical principles of distributive justice, including the current
time-slice principles, as end-result principles or end-state principles.
In contrast t o end-result principles of justice, historical principles
of justice h o l d t h a t past circumstances or actions of people can
create differential entitlements or differential deserts to things. An
injustice can be w o r k e d by m o v i n g from one distribution to another
structurally identical o n e , for the second, in profile the same, may
violate people's entitlements o r deserts; it may not fit the actual
history.
PATTERNING
T h e entitlement principles of justice in holdings that w e have

sketched are historical principles of justice. T o better understand
their precise c h a r a c t e r , w e shall distinguish them from another
subclass of the historical principles. Consider, as an example, the
principle of distribution according to moral merit. This principle
requires t h a t total distributive shares vary directly with moral
merit; n o p e r s o n should have a greater share than anyone whose
moral merit is greater. (If m o r a l merit could be not merely ordered
but measured o n an interval or ratio scale, stronger principles could
be formulated.) O r consider the principle that results by substitut
ing 'usefulness to society' for 'moral merit' in the previous
principle. O r instead of 'distribute according t o moral merit', or
^distribute a c c o r d i n g t o usefulness to society', we might consider
'distribute a c c o r d i n g t o t h e weighted sum of m o r a l merit, useful
ness t o society, a n d n e e d ' , with the weights of the different
dimensions equal. Let us call a principle of distribution patterned if
it specifies that a distribution is t o vary along with some natural
dimension, weighted s u m of natural dimensions, or lexicographic
ordering of natural dimensions. And let us say a distribution is
patterned if it accords w i t h some p a t t e r n e d principle. (I speak
of natural dimensions, admittedly w i t h o u t a general criterion for
them, because for any set of holdings some artificial dimensions can
b e gimmicked u p t o vary along w i t h t h e distribution of the set.) T h e
principle of distribution in accordance with moral merit is a
patterned historical principle, which specifies a p a t t e r n e d distri
bution. 'Distribute according t o I Q ' is a p a t t e r n e d principle that
looks t o information not contained in distributional matrices. It is
not historical, however, in that it d o e s n o t look to any past actions
creating differential entitlements t o evaluate a distribution; it
requires only distributional matrices w h o s e c o l u m n s are labeled
by IQ scores. The distribution in a society, however, may be
composed of such simple patterned distributions, w i t h o u t itself
being simply patterned. Different sectors m a y o p e r a t e different
patterns, or some combination of p a t t e r n s may o p e r a t e in different
proportions across a society. A distribution c o m p o s e d in this
manner, from a small n u m b e r of p a t t e r n e d distributions, w e also
shall term 'patterned'. And we e x t e n d the use of ' p a t t e r n ' to
include the overall designs put forth by c o m b i n a t i o n s of end-state
principles.
Almost every suggested principle of distributive justice is pat
terned: to each according to his m o r a l merit, or needs, or marginal
p r o d u c t , o r h o w h a r d h e tries, o r the weighted s u m of the
foregoing, a n d so on. The principle of entitlement w e have sketched
12
is not p a t t e r n e d . There is n o o n e n a t u r a l dimension o r weighted
sum or combination of a small n u m b e r of n a t u r a l d i m e n s i o n s t h a t
yields the distributions generated in accordance with the principle
of entitlement. T h e set of holdings that results w h e n some persons
receive their marginal p r o d u c t s , others win at g a m b l i n g , others
receive a share of their mate's income, others receive gifts from
foundations, others receive interest o n loans, o t h e r s receive gifts
from admirers, others receive returns o n investment, others m a k e
for themselves m u c h of w h a t they have, others find t h i n g s , a n d
so on, will not be patterned. Heavy strands of p a t t e r n s will run
through it; significant portions of the variance in holdings will be
accounted for by pattern-variables. If most people m o s t of the time
choose t o transfer some of their entitlements to others only in
exchange for something from them, then a large p a r t of w h a t m a n y
people hold will vary with w h a t they h e l d t h a t others w a n t e d . M o r e
details are provided by the theory of marginal productivity. But
Robert Nozick 113
gifts to relatives, charitable d o n a t i o n s , bequests to children, and the
like, are not best conceived, in the first instance, in this m a n n e r .
Ignoring the s t r a n d s of p a t t e r n , let us suppose for the m o m e n t that
a distribution actually arrived at by the o p e r a t i o n of the principle of
entitlement is r a n d o m w i t h respect to any p a t t e r n . T h o u g h the
resulting set of holdings will be u n p a t t e r n e d , it will not be
incomprehensible, for it c a n be seen as arising from the operation of
a small n u m b e r of principles. T h e s e principles specify h o w an initial
distribution m a y arise (the principle of acquisition of holdings) and
how distributions m a y b e t r a n s f o r m e d into others (the principle of
transfer of holdings). T h e process w h e r e b y the set of holdings is
generated will be intelligible, t h o u g h the set of holdings itself that
results from this process will be u n p a t t e r n e d .
The writings of F. A. H a y e k focus less t h a n is usually d o n e upon
what patterning distributive justice requires. H a y e k argues that we
cannot k n o w e n o u g h a b o u t each p e r s o n ' s situation to distribute to
each according to his m o r a l merit (but w o u l d justice d e m a n d we
do so if we did have this k n o w l e d g e ? ) ; a n d he goes on to say, 'our
objection is against all a t t e m p t s to impress upon society a
deliberately chosen p a t t e r n of distribution, w h e t h e r it be an order
3
of equality or of i n e q u a l i t y . ' ' H o w e v e r , H a y e k concludes that in a
free society there will be distribution in accordance with value
rather than m o r a l merit; t h a t is, in a c c o r d a n c e with the perceived
value of a p e r s o n ' s a c t i o n s a n d services to others. Despite his
rejection of a p a t t e r n e d c o n c e p t i o n of distributive justice, Hayek
himself suggests a p a t t e r n he thinks justifiable: distribution in
accordance with the perceived benefits given to others, leaving
room for the c o m p l a i n t t h a t a free society does n o t realize exactly
this pattern. Stating this p a t t e r n s t r a n d of a free capitalist society
more precisely, we get ' T o each according to h o w much he benefits
others w h o h a v e the resources for benefiting those w h o benefit
them.' This will seem a r b i t r a r y unless some acceptable initial set of
holdings is specified, o r unless it is held t h a t the operation of the
system over time w a s h e s o u t any significant effects from the initial
set of holdings. As an e x a m p l e of the latter, if almost anyone w o u l d
have b o u g h t a car from H e n r y F o r d , the supposition that it w a s an
arbitrary m a t t e r w h o held the m o n e y (and so bought) w o u l d not
Place Henry F o r d ' s earnings u n d e r a cloud. In any event, his coming
to hold it is n o t a r b i t r a r y . Distribution according to benefits to
others is a m a j o r p a t t e r n e d s t r a n d in a free capitalist society, as
Hayek correctly points o u t , b u t it is only a strand and does not
constitute the w h o l e p a t t e r n of a system of entitlements (namely,
'nheritance, gifts for a r b i t r a r y reasons, charity, a n d so on) or a
standard that one should insist a society fit. Will people tolerate for
long a system yielding distributions that they believe are unpat-
terned? N o d o u b t people will not l o n g accept a distribution they
believe is unjust. People w a n t their society t o be a n d t o look just.
But must the look of justice reside in a resulting p a t t e r n rather than
in the underlying generating principles? W e are in n o position to
conclude t h a t the inhabitants of a society e m b o d y i n g an entitlement
conception of justice in holdings will find it u n a c c e p t a b l e . Still, it
must be granted that were people's reasons for transferring some of
their holdings t o others always irrational o r a r b i t r a r y , w e would
find this disturbing. (Suppose people always determined what
holdings they w o u l d transfer, a n d t o w h o m , by using a r a n d o m
device.) W e feel m o r e comfortable u p h o l d i n g t h e justice of an
entitlement system if most of the transfers u n d e r it are d o n e for
reasons. This does not mean necessarily t h a t all deserve what
holdings they receive. It means only t h a t there is a p u r p o s e or point
to someone's transferring a holding to o n e person r a t h e r t h a n to
another; that usually w e c a n see w h a t t h e transferrer thinks he's
gaining, w h a t cause he thinks he's serving, w h a t goals he thinks he's
helping t o achieve, a n d so forth. Since in a capitalist society people
often transfer holdings to others in a c c o r d a n c e w i t h h o w m u c h they
perceive these others benefiting t h e m , the fabric constituted by
the individual transactions and transfers is largely reasonable a n d
15
intelligible. (Gifts t o loved ones, bequests t o children, charity t o
the needy also are non-arbitrary c o m p o n e n t s of the fabric.) In
stressing the large strand of distribution in a c c o r d a n c e with benefit
to others, Hayek shows the point of m a n y transfers, a n d s o shows
that the system of transfer of entitlements is n o t just spinning its
gears aimlessly. T h e system of entitlements is defensible when
constituted by t h e individual aims of individual t r a n s a c t i o n s . N o
overarching aim is needed, n o distributional p a t t e r n is required.
T o think that the task of a theory of distributive justice is t o fill in
the blank in ' t o each according t o his ' is t o be predisposed t o
search for a pattern; a n d the separate t r e a t m e n t of 'from each
according to his ' treats p r o d u c t i o n a n d distribution as t w o
separate and independent issues. O n an entitlement view these a r e
not two separate questions. Whoever makes s o m e t h i n g , having
bought or contracted for all other held resources used in t h e process
(transferring some of his holdings for these co-operating factors), is
l s i t u a
k ° t i o n is not one of something's getting m a d e ,
and there being an open question of who is to get it. Things come
into the world already attached to people having entitlements over
them. From the point of view of the historical entitlement
Robert Nozick 115
conception of justice in h o l d i n g s , t h o s e w h o s t a r t afresh t o

complete 'to each a c c o r d i n g t o his ' t r e a t objects as if they
appeared from n o w h e r e , o u t of n o t h i n g . A c o m p l e t e t h e o r y of
justice might cover this limit case as w e l l ; p e r h a p s h e r e is a use for
16
the usual conceptions of d i s t r i b u t i v e j u s t i c e .
So entrenched are m a x i m s of t h e usual form t h a t p e r h a p s w e
should present the e n t i t l e m e n t c o n c e p t i o n as a c o m p e t i t o r . I g n o r i n g
acquisition and rectification, w e m i g h t say:
From each a c c o r d i n g t o w h a t h e c h o o s e s t o d o , t o each

according to w h a t he m a k e s for himself ( p e r h a p s w i t h the
contracted aid of others) a n d w h a t o t h e r s c h o o s e t o d o for
him and choose t o give h i m of w h a t t h e y ' v e been given
previously (under this m a x i m ) a n d h a v e n ' t yet e x p e n d e d o r
transferred.
This, the discerning r e a d e r will h a v e n o t i c e d , h a s its defects as a

slogan. So as a s u m m a r y a n d g r e a t simplification (and n o t as a
maxim with a n y i n d e p e n d e n t m e a n i n g ) w e h a v e :
From each as they choose, to each as they are chosen.
HOW LIBERTY UPSETS PATTERNS
It is not clear h o w t h o s e h o l d i n g alternative c o n c e p t i o n s of

distributive justice can reject the e n t i t l e m e n t c o n c e p t i o n of justice in
holdings. For s u p p o s e a d i s t r i b u t i o n f a v o u r e d by o n e of these n o n -
entitlement c o n c e p t i o n s is realized. Let us s u p p o s e it is y o u r
favourite o n e a n d let us call this d i s t r i b u t i o n D l ; p e r h a p s everyone
has an equal share, p e r h a p s shares vary in a c c o r d a n c e w i t h s o m e
dimension you t r e a s u r e . N o w s u p p o s e t h a t W i l t C h a m b e r l a i n is
greatly in d e m a n d by b a s k e t b a l l t e a m s , being a great gate attrac
tion. (Also suppose c o n t r a c t s r u n o n l y for a y e a r , w i t h players being
free agents.) H e signs t h e following s o r t of c o n t r a c t w i t h a t e a m : In
each home g a m e , twenty-five cents from the price of each ticket of
admission goes t o h i m . ( W e i g n o r e the q u e s t i o n of w h e t h e r h e is
'gouging' the o w n e r s , letting t h e m l o o k o u t for themselves.) T h e
season starts, a n d p e o p l e cheerfully a t t e n d his t e a m ' s g a m e s ; they
huy their tickets, each t i m e d r o p p i n g a s e p a r a t e twenty-five cents of
their admission price i n t o a special b o x w i t h C h a m b e r l a i n ' s n a m e
on it. They are excited a b o u t seeing h i m play; it is w o r t h t h e total
admission price t o t h e m . Let us s u p p o s e t h a t in o n e s e a s o n o n e
million persons attend his h o m e g a m e s , a n d Wilt C h a m b e r l a i n
winds up with $ 2 5 0 , 0 0 0 , a much larger sum t h a n the average
income and larger even t h a n a n y o n e else h a s . Is he entitled to this
income? Is this n e w distribution D 2 , unjust? If so, w h y ? There is no
question about whether each of the people w a s entitled to the
control over the resources they held in D l ; because t h a t was the
distribution (your favourite) that (for the purposes of a r g u m e n t ) we
assumed w a s acceptable. Each of these p e r s o n s chose t o give
twenty-five cents of their m o n e y t o C h a m b e r l a i n . T h e y could have
spent it on going t o the movies, o r o n candy b a r s , o r on copies of
Dissent magazine, or of Monthly Review. But they all, at least one
million of them, converged on giving it to Wilt C h a m b e r l a i n in
exchange for watching him play basketball. If D l was a just
distribution, and people voluntarily m o v e d from it t o D 2 , transfer
ring parts of their shares they were given u n d e r D l (what w a s it for
if not to d o something with?), isn't D 2 also just? If the people w e r e
entitled to dispose of the resources to which they w e r e entitled
(under D l ) , d i d n ' t this include their being entitled t o give it to, or
exchange it with, Wilt Chamberlain? C a n a n y o n e else c o m p l a i n o n
grounds of justice? Each other person already h a s legitimate share
under D l . Under D l , there is n o t h i n g t h a t a n y o n e has t h a t a n y o n e
else has a claim of justice against. After s o m e o n e transfers
something to Wilt C h a m b e r l a i n , third parties still have their
legitimate shares; their shares are n o t changed. By w h a t process
could such a transfer a m o n g t w o persons give rise t o a legitimate
claim of distributive justice of w h a t w a s transferred, by a third
party w h o had n o claim of justice on any h o l d i n g of the others
17
before the t r a n s f e r ? T o cut off objections irrelevant here, we
might imagine the exchanges occurring in a socialist society, after
hours. After playing whatever basketball h e does in his daily w o r k ,
or doing whatever other daily w o r k he does, Wilt C h a m b e r l a i n
decides to put in overtime to earn additional m o n e y . (First his w o r k
quota is set; he w o r k s time over that.) O r imagine it is a skilled
juggler people like t o see, w h o puts on shows after h o u r s .
Why might someone w o r k overtime in a society in which it is
assumed their needs are satisfied? Perhaps because they care a b o u t
things other t h a n needs. I like t o write in b o o k s t h a t I read, a n d t o
have easy access to books for browsing at o d d h o u r s . It w o u l d be
very pleasant and convenient to have the resources of W i d e n e r
Library in my back yard. N o society, I assume, will provide such
resources close t o each person w h o w o u l d like t h e m as part of his
regular allotment (under D l ) . T h u s , p e r s o n s either m u s t d o w i t h o u t
some extra things t h a t they w a n t , or be allowed t o d o s o m e t h i n g
Robert Nozick 117
extra to get some of these things. O n w h a t basis could the
inequalities t h a t w o u l d e v e n t u a t e be f o r b i d d e n ? N o t i c e also t h a t
small factories w o u l d s p r i n g u p in a socialist society, unless
forbidden. I melt d o w n s o m e of m y p e r s o n a l possessions (under
D l ) and build a m a c h i n e o u t of the m a t e r i a l . I offer y o u , a n d
others, a philosophy lecture o n c e a w e e k in e x c h a n g e for y o u r
cranking the h a n d l e o n my m a c h i n e , w h o s e p r o d u c t s I e x c h a n g e for
yet other things, a n d so o n . (The r a w m a t e r i a l s used by the m a c h i n e
are given t o m e by o t h e r s w h o possess t h e m u n d e r D l , in e x c h a n g e
for hearing lectures.) E a c h p e r s o n m i g h t p a r t i c i p a t e to gain things
over and above their a l l o t m e n t u n d e r D l . S o m e p e r s o n s even m i g h t
want to leave their job in socialist i n d u s t r y a n d w o r k full t i m e in
this private sector. I shall say s o m e t h i n g m o r e a b o u t these issues
elsewhere. H e r e I wish merely t o n o t e h o w private p r o p e r t y
even in means of p r o d u c t i o n w o u l d o c c u r in a socialist society t h a t
did not forbid people t o use as they w i s h e d s o m e of the resources
1 8
they are given u n d e r t h e socialist d i s t r i b u t i o n D l . T h e socialist
society w o u l d have t o forbid capitalist acts b e t w e e n c o n s e n t i n g
adults.
The general p o i n t illustrated by the Wilt C h a m b e r l a i n e x a m p l e
and the example of the e n t r e p r e n e u r in a socialist society is t h a t n o
end-state principle or d i s t r i b u t i o n a l p a t t e r n e d principle of justice
can be continuously realized w i t h o u t c o n t i n u o u s interference with
people's lives. Any favoured p a t t e r n w o u l d be t r a n s f o r m e d i n t o o n e
unfavoured by the principle, by p e o p l e c h o o s i n g t o act in v a r i o u s
ways; for e x a m p l e , by p e o p l e e x c h a n g i n g g o o d s a n d services with
other people, or giving t h i n g s t o o t h e r p e o p l e , things the transfer
rers are entitled to u n d e r the f a v o u r e d d i s t r i b u t i o n a l p a t t e r n . T o
maintain a p a t t e r n o n e m u s t either c o n t i n u a l l y interfere to stop
people from transferring resources as they w i s h t o , or continually
(or periodically) interfere t o t a k e from s o m e p e r s o n s resources t h a t
others for some reason c h o s e t o transfer t o t h e m . (But if s o m e time
limit is to be set o n h o w l o n g p e o p l e m a y k e e p resources others
voluntarily transfer to t h e m , w h y let t h e m k e e p these resources for
a«y period of time? W h y n o t h a v e i m m e d i a t e confiscation?) It
might be objected t h a t all p e r s o n s v o l u n t a r i l y will c h o o s e to refrain
from actions w h i c h w o u l d upset the p a t t e r n . T h i s p r e s u p p o s e s
unrealistically (1) t h a t all will m o s t w a n t t o m a i n t a i n t h e p a t t e r n
(are those w h o d o n ' t , t o b e ' r e - e d u c a t e d ' or forced t o u n d e r g o 'self-
cnticism'?), (2) t h a t each can g a t h e r e n o u g h i n f o r m a t i o n a b o u t his
own actions a n d the o n g o i n g activities of o t h e r s t o discover w h i c h
of his actions will u p s e t t h e p a t t e r n , a n d (3) t h a t diverse a n d
far-flung persons can c o - o r d i n a t e their a c t i o n s t o dovetail i n t o the
pattern. C o m p a r e the m a n n e r in which the m a r k e t is neutral a m o n g
persons' desires, as it reflects a n d t r a n s m i t s widely scattered
information via prices, and co-ordinates p e r s o n s ' activities.
It puts things perhaps a bit t o o strongly to say that every
patterned (or end-state) principle is liable t o be t h w a r t e d by the
voluntary actions of the individual parties transferring some of
their shares they receive under the principle. For p e r h a p s some very
19
weak patterns are not so t h w a r t e d . Any distributional pattern
with any egalitarian c o m p o n e n t is o v e r t u r n a b l e by the voluntary
actions of individual persons over time; as is every p a t t e r n e d
condition with sufficient content so as actually to have been
proposed as presenting the central core of distributive justice. Still,
given the possibility that some w e a k c o n d i t i o n s or p a t t e r n s may not
be unstable in this way, it w o u l d be better to formulate an explicit
description of the kind of interesting a n d contentful p a t t e r n s under
discussion, and to prove a theorem a b o u t their instability. Since the
weaker the patterning, the more likely it is t h a t the entitlement
system itself satisfies it, a plausible conjecture is t h a t any patterning
either is unstable or is satisfied by the entitlement system.
NOTES
1
Here and in the next section 1 draw upon and amplify my discussion
of these issues in footnote 4 of 'On the Randian Argument', The
Personalist, Spring, 1971.
2
Milton Friedman, Capitalism and Freedom (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1962), ch. 6. Friedman's school vouchers, of course,
allow a choice about who is to supply the product, and so differ from
the protection vouchers imagined here.
For a clear statement that this view is mistaken, see John Rawls, A
Theory of justice (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1971),
pp. 3 0 , 5 6 5 - 6 .
Unfortunately, too few models of the structure of moral views have
been specified heretofore, though there are surely other interesting
structures. Hence an argument for a side-constraint structure that
consists largely in arguing against an end-state maximization structure
is i iconclusive, for these alternatives are not exhaustive. An array of
structures must be precisely formulated and investigated; perhaps some
novel structure then will seem most appropriate.
The issue of whether a side-constraint view can be put in the form of
the goal-without-side-constraint view is a tricky one. One might think,
for example, that each person could distinguish in his goal between his
violating rights and someone else's doing it. Give the former infinite
(negative) weight in his goal, and no amount of stopping others from
Robert Nozick 119
violating rights can outweigh his violating someone's rights. In addition
to a component of a goal receiving infinite weight, indexical expressions
also appear, for example, 'my doing something'. A careful statement
delimiting 'constraint views' would exclude these gimmicky ways of
transforming side constraints into the form of an end-state view as
sufficient to constitute a view as end state. Mathematical methods of
transforming a constrained minimization problem into a sequence of
unconstrained minimizations of an auxiliary function are presented
in Anthony Fiacco and Garth McCormick, Nonlinear Programming:
Sequential Unconstrained Minimization Techniques (New York:
Wiley, 1968). The book is interesting both for its methods and for their
limitations in illuminating our area of concern; note the way in which
the penalty functions include the constraints, the variation in weights of
penalty functions (sec. 7.1), and so on.
The question of whether these side constraints are absolute, or
whether they may be violated in order to avoid catastrophic moral
horror, and if the latter, what the resulting structure might look like, is
one I hope largely to avoid.
5
Which does which? Often a useful question to ask, as in the following:
'What is the difference between a Zen master and an analytic
philosopher?'
'One talks riddles and the other riddles talks.'
Groundwork of the Metaphysic of Morals. Translated by H. J. Paton,
^ The Moral Law (London: Hutchinson, 1956), p. 96.
8 See John Rawls, A Theory of Justice, sects 5, 6, 30.
The reader who has looked ahead and seen that the second part of this
chapter discusses Rawls' theory mistakenly may think that every
remark or argument in the first part against alternative theories of
justice is meant to apply to, or anticipate, a criticism of Rawls' theory.
This is not so; there are other theories also worth criticizing.
9
Applications of the principle of justice in acquisition may also occur as

part of the move from one distribution to another. You may find an
unheld thing now and appropriate it. Acquisitions also are to be
understood as included when, to simplify, I speak only of transitions by
transfers.
See, however, the useful book by Boris Bittker, The Case for Black
u ^rations (New York: Random House, 1973).
p n n c e
\A ' P ' °f rectification of violations of the first two principles
yields more than one description of holdings, then some choice must be
made as to which of these is to be realized. Perhaps the sort of
considerations about distributive justice and equality that 1 argue
against play a legitimate role in this subsidiary choice. Similarly, there
may be room for such considerations in deciding which otherwise
arbitrary features a statute will embody, when such features are
unavoidable because other considerations do not specify a precise line;
Y a h n e
n Q must be drawn.
ne might try to squeeze a patterned conception of distributive justice
into the framework of the entitlement conception, by formulating a
gimmicky obligatory 'principle of transfer' that would lead to the
pattern. For example, the principle that if one has more than the mean
income one must transfer everything one holds above the mean to
persons below the mean so as to bring them up to (but not over) the
mean. We can formulate a criterion for a 'principle of transfer' to rule
out such obligatory transfers, or we can say that no correct principle of
transfer, no principle of transfer in a free society will be like this. The
former is probably the better course, though the latter also is true.
Alternatively, one might think to make the entitlement conception
instantiate a pattern, by using matrix entries that express the relative
strength of a person's entitlements as measured by some real-valued
function. But even if the limitation to natural dimensions failed to
exclude this function, the resulting edifice would not capture our system
of entitlements to particular things.
" F. A. Hayek, The Constitution of Liberty (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1960), p. 87.
14
This question does not imply that they will tolerate any and every
patterned distribution. In discussing Hayek's views, Irving Kristol has
recently speculated that people will not long tolerate a system that yields
distributions patterned in accordance with value rather than merit.
('"When Virtue Loses All Her Loveliness" - Some Reflections on
Capitalism and "The Free Society'" The Public Interest, Fall, 1970,
pp. 3-15.) Kristol, following some remarks of Hayek's, equates the
merit system with justice. Since some case can be made for the external
standard of distribution in accordance with benefit to others, we ask
about a weaker (and therefore more plausible) hypothesis.
We certainly benefit because great economic incentives operate to get
others to spend much time and energy to figure out how to serve us by
providing things we will want to pay for. It is not mere paradox
mongenng to wonder whether capitalism should be criticized for most
rewarding and hence encouraging, not individualists like Thoreau who
go about their own lives, but people who are occupied with serving
others and winning them as customers. But to defend capitalism one
need not think businessmen are the finest human types. (I do not mean
to join here the general maligning of businessmen, either.) Those who
think the finest should acquire the most can try to convince their fellows
t o t r a n s t e r
l 6 resources in accordance with that principle.
Varying situations continuously from that limit situation to our own
would force us to make explicit the underlying rationale of entitlements
and to consider whether entitlement considerations lexicographically
precede the considerations of the usual theories of distributive justice, so
that the slightest strand of entitlement outweighs the considerations of
^ the usual theories of distributive justice.
Might not a transfer have instrumental effects on a third party,
changing his feasible options? (But what if the two parties to the
transfer independently had used their holdings in this fashion?) 1 discuss
l 2 1
Robert Nozick
this question below, but note here that this question concedes the point
for distributions of ultimate intrinsic non-instrumental goods (pure
utility experiences, so to speak) that are transferable. It also might be
objected that the transfer might make a third party more envious
because it worsens his position relative to someone else. 1 nnd it
incomprehensible how this can be thought to involve a claim of justice.
Here and elsewhere in this chapter, a theory which incorporates
elements of pure procedural justice might find what 1 say acceptable, if
kept in its proper place; that is, if background institutions exist t o
ensure the satisfaction of certain conditions o n distributive shares. But it
these institutions are not themselves the sum or invisible-hand result of
people's voluntary (non-aggressive) actions, the constraints they impose
require justification. At n o point does our argument assume any
background institutions more extensive than those of the minimal
night-watchman state, a state limited to protecting persons against
murder, assault, theft, fraud, and so forth.
8
See the selection from John Henry MacKay's novel, The Anarchists,
reprinted in Leonard Krimmerman and Lewis Perry, eds, Patterns of
Anarchy (New York: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1966), in which an
individualist anarchist presses upon a communist anarchist the follow
ing question: 'Would you, in the system of society which you call "free
Communism" prevent individuals from exchanging their labour among
themselves by means of their own medium of exchange? And further:
Would you prevent them from occupying land for the purpose of
personal use?' The novel continues: '[the] question was not to be
escaped. If he answered "Yes!" he admitted that society had the right of
control over the individual and threw overboard the autonomy of the
individual which he had always zealously defended; if on the other
hand, he answered " N o ! " he admitted the right of private property
which he had just denied so emphatically. . . . Then he answered "In
Anarchy any number of men must have the right of forming a voluntary
association, and so realizing their ideas in practice. Nor can 1
understand how any one could justly be driven from the land and house
which he uses and occupies . . . every serious man must declare himself:
tor Socialism, and thereby for force and against liberty or for
Anarchism, and thereby for liberty and against force." ' In contrast, we
nd Noam Chomsky writing, 'Any consistent anarchist must oppose
private ownership of the means of production', 'the consistent anarchist
wen . j w n j ij f p
D e u l a r sort.' Introduction to
a s o c a s t D a a r n C
paniel Guerin, Anarchism: From Theory to Practice (New York:

„ Monthly Review Press, 1970), pp. xiii, x v .
^ e patterned principle stable that requires merely that a distribution
a r e t o 0 t m a 1
th " P ' l - ' One person might give another a gift or bequest that
S e C O n c c o u e x c n a
the * ^ n g e with a third to their mutual benefit. Before
e ec
, ^ °nd makes this exchange, there is not Pareto-optimality. Is a
6 a t t e r n r e s e n t e
ODti ^ .P d by a principle choosing that among the Pareto-
P mal positions that satisfies some further condition C? It may seem
that there cannot be a counter-example, for won't any voluntary
exchange made away from a situation show that the first situation
wasn't Pareto-optimal? (Ignore the implausibility of this last claim for
the case of bequests.) But principles are to be satisfied over time, during
which new possibilities arise. A distribution that at one time satisfies the
criterion of Pareto-optimality might not do so when some new possibili
ties arise (Wilt Chamberlain grows up and starts playing basketball);
and though people's activities will tend to move then to a new Pareto-
optimal position, this new one need not satisfy the contentful condition
C. Continual interference will be needed to ensure the continual
satisfaction of C. (The theoretical possibility of a pattern's being
maintained by some invisible-hand process that brings it back to an
equilibrium that fits the pattern when deviations occur should be
investigated.)
PART II
6
Alasdair Maclntyre: The Virtues,
the Unity of a Human Life and the
Concept of a Tradition *
Any c o n t e m p o r a r y a t t e m p t to envisage each h u m a n life as a whole,

as a unity, w h o s e c h a r a c t e r provides the virtues with an adequate
telos e n c o u n t e r s t w o different kinds of obstacle, one social and one
philosophical. T h e social obstacles derive from the way in which
m o d e r n i t y p a r t i t i o n s each h u m a n life into a variety of segments,
each with its o w n n o r m s a n d modes of behaviour. So work is
divided from leisure, private life from public, the corporate from
the p e r s o n a l . So b o t h childhood and old age have been wrenched
a w a y from the rest of h u m a n life and m a d e over into distinct
realms. A n d all these separations have been achieved so that it is
the distinctiveness of each and n o t the unity of the life of the
individual w h o passes t h r o u g h those parts in terms of which we are
taught to think a n d to feel.
T h e philosophical obstacles derive from t w o distinct tendencies,
one chiefly, t h o u g h n o t only, domesticated in analytical philosophy
a n d one at h o m e in b o t h sociological theory a n d in existentialism.
T h e former is the tendency to think atomistically about h u m a n
action a n d t o analyse complex actions and transactions in terms of
simple c o m p o n e n t s . H e n c e the recurrence in more than one context
of the notion of 'a basic action'. T h a t particular actions derive their
character as parts of larger wholes is a point of view alien to our
d o m i n a n t ways of t h i n k i n g a n d yet one which it is necessary at least
t o consider if w e are to begin to understand h o w a life m a y be more
t h a n a sequence of individual actions and episodes.
Equally the unity of a h u m a n life becomes invisible to us when a
sharp s e p a r a t i o n is m a d e either between the individual and the roles
*Alasdair Maclntyre, After Virtue. University of Notre Dame Press, Notre

Dame, Indiana 46556. Copyright, 1981.
126 Concept of a Tradition
t h a t he or she plays - a separation characteristic n o t only of Sartre's
existentialism, but also of the sociological theory of Ralf D a h r e n -
dorf - or between the different role- a n d quasi-role-enactments of
an individual life so t h a t life comes to a p p e a r as n o t h i n g b u t a series
of unconnected episodes - a liquidation of the self characteristic, as
I noticed earlier, of Goffman's sociological theory. I already also
suggested that b o t h the Sartrian and the Goffmanesque conceptions
of selfhood are highly characteristic of the m o d e s of t h o u g h t
a n d practice of modernity. It is perhaps therefore unsurprising to
realize that the self as thus conceived cannot be envisaged as a
bearer of the Aristotelian virtues.
For a self separated from its roles in the Sartrian m o d e loses t h a t
arena of social relationships in which the Aristotelian virtues
function if they function at all. T h e patterns of a virtuous life w o u l d
fall under those c o n d e m n a t i o n s of conventionality which Sartre p u t
into a m o u t h of Antoine Roquentin in La Nausee and which he
uttered in his o w n person in L'Etre et le neant. Indeed the self's
refusal of the inauthenticity of conventionalized social relationships
becomes w h a t integrity is diminished into in Sartre's account.
At the same time the liquidation of the self into a set of
demarcated areas of role-playing allows no scope for the exercise of
dispositions which could genuinely be accounted virtues in any
sense remotely Aristotelian. For a virtue is not a disposition t h a t
makes for success only in some one particular type of situation.
W h a t are spoken of as the virtues of a good committee m a n or of a
good administrator or of a gambler or a pool hustler are profes
sional skills professionally deployed in those situations w h e r e they
can be effective, not virtues. Someone w h o genuinely possesses a
virtue can be expected to manifest it in very different types of
situation, m a n y of t h e m situations where the practice of a virtue
c a n n o t be expected to be effective in the way that w e expect a
professional skill t o be. H e c t o r exhibited one a n d the same courage
in his parting from A n d r o m a c h e a n d on the battlefield with
Achilles; Eleanor M a r x exhibited one and the same c o m p a s s i o n in
her relationship with her father, in her w o r k with t r a d e unionists
a n d in her entanglement with Aveling. And the unity of a virtue in
someone's life is intelligible only as a characteristic of a unitary life,
a life t h a t can be conceived and evaluated as a w h o l e . H e n c e just as
in the discussion of the changes in and fragmentation of morality
which accompanied the rise of modernity in the earlier parts of this
b o o k , each stage in the emergence of the characteristically m o d e r n
views of the m o r a l judgement w a s a c c o m p a n i e d by a c o r r e s p o n d i n g
stage in the emergence of the characteristically m o d e r n conceptions
Alasdair Maclntyre 127
of selfhood; so n o w , in defining the particular pre-modern concept

of the virtues with which I have been preoccupied, it has become
necessary to say s o m e t h i n g of the concomitant concept of selfhood,
a concept of a self w h o s e unity resides in the unity of a narrative
which links birth t o life to death as narrative beginning to middle to
end.
Such a conception of the self is perhaps less unfamiliar than it
may a p p e a r at first sight. Just because it has played a key part in the
cultures which are historically the predecessors of our o w n , it
w o u l d n o t be surprising if it turned out to be still an unacknow
ledged presence in m a n y of our ways of thinking and acting. Hence
it is not i n a p p r o p r i a t e to begin by scrutinizing some of o u r most
taken-for-granted, but clearly correct conceptual insights about
h u m a n actions a n d selfhood in order to show h o w natural it is to
think of the self in a narrative m o d e .
It is a conceptual c o m m o n p l a c e , both for philosophers and
for o r d i n a r y agents, t h a t one and the same segment of h u m a n
behaviour m a y be correctly characterized in a number of different
ways. T o the question ' W h a t is he doing?' the answers may with
equal t r u t h a n d a p p r o p r i a t e n e s s be 'Digging', ' G a r d e n i n g ' , 'Taking
exercise', ' P r e p a r i n g for winter' or 'Pleasing his wife'. Some of these
answers will characterize the agent's intentions, others unintended
consequences of his actions, and of these unintended consequences
s o m e m a y be such t h a t the agent is aware of them and others not.
W h a t is i m p o r t a n t t o notice immediately is t h a t any answer to the
questions of h o w we are to understand or to explain a given
segment of b e h a v i o u r will presuppose some prior answer to the
question of h o w these different correct answers to the question
' W h a t is he d o i n g ? ' are related to each other. For if someone's
primary intention is to p u t the garden in order before the winter
a n d it is only incidentally the case that in so doing he is taking
exercise a n d pleasing his wife, we have one type of behaviour to be
explained; b u t if the agent's primary intention is to please his wife
by t a k i n g exercise, we have quite another type of behaviour to be
explained a n d we will have t o look in a different direction for
understanding and explanation.
In the first place the episode has been situated in an annual cycle
of d o m e s t i c activity, a n d the behaviour embodies an intention
which p r e s u p p o s e s a particular type of household-cum-garden
setting with the peculiar narrative history of that setting in which
this segment of b e h a v i o u r n o w becomes an episode. In the second
instance the episode has been situated in the narrative history of a
m a r r i a g e , a very different, even if related, social setting. W e cannot,
that is to say, characterize behaviour independently of intentions,
and we c a n n o t characterize intentions independently of the settings
which make those intentions intelligible b o t h to agents themselves
and to others.
I use the w o r d 'setting' here as a relatively inclusive term. A social
setting may be an institution, it m a y be w h a t I have called a
practice, or it may be a milieu of some other h u m a n kind. But it is
central to the notion of a setting as I a m going to u n d e r s t a n d it t h a t
a setting has a history, a history within which the histories of
individual agents not only are, but have to be, situated, just because
without the setting and its changes t h r o u g h time the history of the
individual agent and his changes t h r o u g h time will be unintelligible.
Of course one a n d the same piece of behaviour may belong t o more
than one setting. There are at least t w o different ways in which this
may be so.
In my earlier example the agent's activity may be p a r t of the
history b o t h of the cycle of household activity and of his m a r r i a g e ,
t w o histories which have h a p p e n e d to intersect. T h e h o u s e h o l d m a y
have its o w n history stretching back t h r o u g h h u n d r e d s of years, as
do the histories of some E u r o p e a n farms, where the farm has h a d a
life of its o w n , even t h o u g h different famdies have in different
periods inhabited it; and the marriage will certainly have its o w n
history, a history which itself presupposes t h a t a particular point
has been reached in the history of the institution of marriage. If w e
are to relate s o m e particular segment of b e h a v i o u r in any precise
w a y t o an agent's intentions and thus to the settings w h i c h t h a t
agent inhabits, w e shall have to u n d e r s t a n d in a precise w a y h o w
the variety of correct characterizations of the agent's behaviour
relate to each o t h e r first by identifying which characteristics refer us
to an intention a n d which d o not and then by classifying further the
items in b o t h categories.
Where intentions are concerned, we need to k n o w w h i c h
intention or intentions were primary, that is to say, of w h i c h it is
the case t h a t , h a d the agent intended otherwise, he w o u l d n o t have
performed t h a t action. T h u s if we k n o w t h a t a m a n is gardening
with the self-avowed purposes of healthful exercise and of pleasing
his wife, we d o not yet k n o w h o w to u n d e r s t a n d w h a t he is d o i n g
until we k n o w the answer to such questions as w h e t h e r he w o u l d
continue gardening if he continued to believe that gardening was
healthful exercise, but discovered that his gardening n o longer
pleased his wife, and whether he w o u l d continue gardening, if he
ceased t o believe that gardening w a s healthful exercise, b u t
continued to believe t h a t it pleased his wife, and w h e t h e r he w o u l d
continue g a r d e n i n g if he changed his beliefs on both points. That is
to say, we need to k n o w b o t h what certain of his beliefs are and
which of t h e m are causally effective; and, that is to say, we need to
k n o w w h e t h e r certain contrary-to-fact hypothetical statements are
true or false. And until we k n o w this, we shall not k n o w how to
characterize correctly w h a t the agent is doing.
Consider a n o t h e r equally trivial example of a set of compatibly
correct answers t o the question ' W h a t is he doing?' 'Writing a
sentence'; 'Finishing his b o o k ' ; ' C o n t r i b u t i n g to the debate on the
theory of a c t i o n ' ; ' T r y i n g to get t e n u r e ' . Here the intentions can be
ordered in t e r m s of the stretch of time to which reference is made.
Each of the s h o r t e r - t e r m intentions is, and can only be made,
intelligible by reference t o some longer-term intentions; and the
characterization of the behaviour in terms of the longer-term
intentions can only be correct if some of the characterizations in
terms of s h o r t e r - t e r m intentions are also correct. Hence the
behaviour is only characterized adequately when we know what
the longer a n d longest-term intentions invoked are and h o w the
shorter-term intentions are related to the longer. Once again we are
involved in writing a narrative history.
Intentions t h u s need t o be ordered both causally and temporally
and both orderings will m a k e references to settings, references
already m a d e obliquely by such elementary terms as 'gardening',
'wife', ' b o o k ' a n d ' t e n u r e ' . M o r e o v e r the correct identification of
the agent's beliefs will be an essential constituent of this task;
failure at this p o i n t w o u l d mean failure in the whole enterprise.
(The conclusion m a y seem o b v i o u s ; but it already entails one
i m p o r t a n t consequence. T h e r e is n o such thing as 'behaviour', to be
identified prior to a n d independently of intentions, beliefs and
settings. H e n c e the project of a science of behaviour takes on a
mysterious a n d s o m e w h a t o u t r e character. It is not that such a
science is impossible; but there is nothing for it to be but a science
of u n i n t e r p r e t e d physical m o v e m e n t such as B. E. Skinner aspires
t o . It is n o p a r t of m y task here t o examine Skinner's problems; but
it is w o r t h noticing t h a t it is not at all clear what a scientific
experiment could be, if o n e were a Skinnerian; since the conception
of an e x p e r i m e n t is certainly one of intention- and belief-informed
behaviour. A n d w h a t w o u l d be utterly d o o m e d to failure would be
the project of a science of, say, political behaviour, detached from a
study of intentions, beliefs and settings. It is perhaps worth noting
that w h e n the expression 'the behavioural sciences' was given its
first influential use in a Ford F o u n d a t i o n R e p o r t of 1 9 5 3 , t b e t e r m
' b e h a v i o u r ' w a s defined so as t o include w h a t were called 'such
subjective behaviour as attitudes, beliefs, expectations, motivations
and aspirations' as well as 'overt acts'. But w h a t the Report's
w o r d i n g seems t o imply is that it is cataloguing t w o distinct sets of
items, available for independent study. If the a r g u m e n t so far is
correct, then there is only one set of items.)
Consider w h a t the argument so far implies a b o u t the inter
relationships of the intentional, the social a n d the historical. We
identify a particular action only by invoking t w o k i n d s of context,
implicitly if not explicitly. W e place the agent's intentions, I have
suggested, in causal a n d t e m p o r a l o r d e r with reference t o theit role
in his or her history; and we also place them with reference t o their
role in the history of the setting or settings to which they belong. In
doing this, in determining w h a t causal efficacy the agent's inten
tions had in one or more directions, and h o w his short-term
intentions succeeded or failed t o be constitutive of long-term
intentions, we ourselves write a further p a r t of these histories.
Narrative history of a certain k i n d turns o u t t o be the basic and
essential genre for the characterization of h u m a n actions.
It is i m p o r t a n t t o be clear h o w different the s t a n d p o i n t pre
supposed by the argument so far is from that of those analytical
philosophers w h o have constructed accounts of h u m a n actions
which m a k e central the notion of ' a ' h u m a n action. A course of
h u m a n events is then seen as a complex sequence of individual
actions, a n d a natural question is: H o w d o we individuate h u m a n
actions? N o w there are contexts in w h i c h such n o t i o n s are a t h o m e .
In the recipes of a cookery b o o k for instance actions are individu
ated in just the way that some analytical philosophers have
supposed t o b e possible of all actions. ' T a k e six eggs. T h e n b r e a k
then into a bowl. Add flour, salt, sugar, e t c ' But the point a b o u t
such sequences is that each element in t h e m is intelligible as an
action only as a-possible-element-in-a-sequence. M o r e o v e r even
such a sequence requires a context t o b e intelligible. If in t h e middle
of my lecture o n Kant's ethics I suddenly b r o k e six eggs i n t o a b o w l
a n d added flour and sugar, proceeding all the while w i t h my
Kantian exegesis, I have not, simply in virtue of the fact t h a t I was
following a sequence prescribed by F a n n y F a r m e r , performed an
intelligible action.
T o this it might be related that I certainly performed an action or
a set of actions, if not a n intelligible action. But t o this I w a n t to
reply t h a t the concept of a n intelligible action is a m o r e funda
mental concept than t h a t of a n action as such. Unintelligible actions
are failed candidates for the status of intelligible action; and t o lump
unintelligible actions a n d intelligible actions together in a single
class of actions a n d then t o characterize action in terms of what
items of both sets h a v e in c o m m o n is t o m a k e the mistake of
ignoring this. It is also t o neglect the central importance of the
concept of intelligibility.
The i m p o r t a n c e of the concept of intelligibility is closely related
to the fact t h a t the m o s t basic distinction of all embedded in our
discourse and o u r practice in this area is t h a t between h u m a n
beings a n d o t h e r beings. H u m a n beings can be held to account for
that of which they are the a u t h o r s ; o t h e r beings cannot. T o identify
an occurrence as an action is in the paradigmatic instances to
identify it u n d e r a type of description which enables us to see that
occurrence as flowing intelligibly from a h u m a n agent's intentions,
motives, passions a n d p u r p o s e s . It is therefore to understand an
action as s o m e t h i n g for which s o m e o n e is accountable, about
which it is always a p p r o p r i a t e t o ask the agent for an intelligible
account. W h e n an o c c u r r e n c e is apparently the intended action of a
human agent, b u t nonetheless w e c a n n o t so identify it, we are both
intellectually a n d practically baffled. W e d o n o t k n o w h o w to
respond; w e d o n o t k n o w h o w t o explain; we d o not even know
h o w to characterize minimally as an intelligible action; our
distinction between t h e h u m a n l y a c c o u n t a b l e and the merely
natural seems to h a v e b r o k e n d o w n . And this kind of bafflement
does indeed occur in a n u m b e r of different kinds of situation; when
we enter alien cultures o r even alien social structures within our
own culture, in o u r e n c o u n t e r s with certain types of neurotic or
psychotic p a t i e n t (it is indeed the unintelligibility of such patient's
actions t h a t leads t o their being treated as patients; actions
unintelligible to the agent as well as to everyone else are understood
- rightly - as a kind of suffering), but also in everyday situations.
Consider an e x a m p l e .
I am s t a n d i n g w a i t i n g for a bus a n d the y o u n g m a n standing next
to me suddenly says: ' T h e n a m e of the c o m m o n wild duck is
Histrionicus histrionicus histrionicus.'' There is n o problem as to
the m e a n i n g of t h e sentence he u t t e r e d : the problem is, h o w to
answer the question, w h a t w a s he doing in uttering it? Suppose he
just uttered such sentences at r a n d o m intervals; this w o u l d be one
possible form of m a d n e s s . W e w o u l d render his act of utterance
intelligible if o n e of the following turned o u t t o be true. H e has
mistaken me for s o m e o n e w h o yesterday h a d a p p r o a c h e d him in
the library a n d a s k e d : ' D o y o u by any chance k n o w the Latin name
of the c o m m o n w i l d d u c k ? ' O r he h a s just come from a session with
his psychotherapist w h o has urged him t o break d o w n his shyness
by talking t o strangers. 'But w h a t shall 1 say?' ' O h , anything at all.
Or he is a Soviet spy waiting at a p r e a r r a n g e d rendezvous and
uttering the ill-chosen code sentence which will identify h i m t o his
contact. In each case the act of u t t e r a n c e becomes intelligible by
finding its place in a narrative.
T o this it m a y be replied t h a t the supplying of a n a r r a t i v e is not
necessary to m a k e such an act intelligible. All t h a t is required is that
we can identify the relevant type of speech-act (e.g. ' H e was
answering a question') or some p u r p o s e served by his utterance
(e.g. ' H e was trying to attract y o u r a t t e n t i o n ' ) . But speech-acts and
purposes too can be intelligible o r unintelligible. S u p p o s e that the
m a n at the bus stop explains his act of utterance by saying T w a s
answering a question.' I reply: 'But I never asked y o u any question
to which t h a t could have been the a n s w e r . ' H e says, ' O h , I k n o w
that.'' Once again his action becomes unintelligible. A n d a parallel
example could easily be constructed t o s h o w t h a t the mere fact that
an action serves some p u r p o s e of a recognized type is n o t sufficient
to render an action intelligible. Both purposes a n d speech-acts
require contexts.
T h e most familiar type of context in and by reference to which
speech-acts and purposes are rendered intelligible is the conversa
tion. Conversation is so all-pervasive a feature of t h e h u m a n w o r l d
that it tends t o escape philosophical a t t e n t i o n . Yet r e m o v e con
versation from h u m a n life and w h a t w o u l d be left? C o n s i d e r
then w h a t is involved in following a conversation a n d finding it
intelligible or unintelligible. (To find a conversation intelligible is
not the same as to u n d e r s t a n d it; for a conversation w h i c h I
overhear may be intelligible, but I may fail to u n d e r s t a n d it.) If I
listen to a conversation between t w o o t h e r people m y ability to
grasp the thread of the conversation will involve an ability to bring
it under some o n e out of a set of descriptions in which the degree
a n d kind of coherence in the conversation is b r o u g h t out: 'a
d r u n k e n , rambling q u a r r e l ' , 'a serious intellectual disagreement', 'a
tragic misunderstanding of each o t h e r ' , 'a comic, even farcical
misconstrual of each other's motives', 'a penetrating interchange of
views', ' a struggle t o d o m i n a t e each o t h e r ' , ' a trivial e x c h a n g e of
gossip'.
T h e use of w o r d s such as 'tragic', ' c o m i c ' , and 'farcical' is n o t
marginal to such evaluations. We allocate conversations t o genres,
just as we d o literary narratives. Indeed a conversation is a d r a m a t i c
w o r k , even if a very short one, in which the participants are n o t
only the actors, but also the joint a u t h o r s , w o r k i n g o u t in
agreement o r disagreement the m o d e of their p r o d u c t i o n . F o r it is
not just t h a t conversations belong t o genres in just the w a y t h a t
plays and novels d o ; b u t they have beginnings, m i d d l e s a n d endings
just as do literary w o r k s . T h e y e m b o d y reversals a n d recognitions;
they move t o w a r d s a n d a w a y from climaxes. T h e r e m a y within a
longer conversation be digressions a n d s u b p l o t s , indeed digressions
within digressions a n d s u b p l o t s w i t h i n s u b p l o t s .
But if this is true of c o n v e r s a t i o n s , it is t r u e also mutatis mutandis
of battles, chess g a m e s , c o u r t s h i p s , p h i l o s o p h y seminars, families
at the dinner table, b u s i n e s s m e n n e g o t i a t i n g contracts - t h a t is, of
human transactions in general. F o r c o n v e r s a t i o n , u n d e r s t o o d
widely e n o u g h , is the form of h u m a n t r a n s a c t i o n s in general.
Conversational b e h a v i o u r is n o t a special sort or aspect of h u m a n
behaviour, even t h o u g h the forms of language-using a n d of h u m a n
life are such t h a t the deeds of o t h e r s speak for t h e m as m u c h as d o
their words. For t h a t is possible o n l y because they are the deeds of
those w h o have w o r d s .
I am presenting b o t h c o n s e r v a t i o n s in p a r t i c u l a r then a n d h u m a n
actions in general as e n a c t e d n a r r a t i v e s . N a r r a t i v e is not the w o r k
of poets, d r a m a t i s t s a n d novelists reflecting u p o n events w h i c h h a d
no narrative o r d e r before o n e w a s i m p o s e d by the singer or the
writer; narrative form is neither disguise n o r d e c o r a t i o n . B a r b a r a
Hardy has written t h a t ' w e d r e a m in n a r r a t i v e , d a y - d r e a m in
narrative, r e m e m b e r , a n t i c i p a t e , h o p e , despair, believe, d o u b t ,
plan, revise, criticise, c o n s t r u c t , gossip, learn, h a t e a n d love by
narrative' in a r g u i n g the s a m e p o i n t ( H a r d y , 1 9 6 8 , p . 5).
At the beginning of this c h a p t e r 1 argued t h a t in successfully
identifying a n d u n d e r s t a n d i n g w h a t s o m e o n e else is d o i n g we
always move t o w a r d s p l a c i n g a p a r t i c u l a r episode in the c o n t e x t of
a set of narrative histories, histories b o t h of the individuals
concerned a n d of the settings in w h i c h they act a n d suffer. It is n o w
becoming clear t h a t w e r e n d e r the actions of o t h e r s intelligible in
this way because action itself has a basically historical character. It
is because we all live o u t n a r r a t i v e s in o u r lives a n d because we
understand o u r o w n lives in t e r m s of the narratives t h a t w e live o u t
that the form of n a r r a t i v e is a p p r o p r i a t e for u n d e r s t a n d i n g the
actions of o t h e r s . Stories are lived before they are told - except in
the case of fiction.
This has of course b e e n denied in recent d e b a t e s . Louis O . M i n k ,
quarrelling w i t h B a r b a r a H a r d y ' s view, h a s asserted: 'Stories are
not lived b u t told. Life h a s n o beginnings, middles, o r e n d s ; there
are meetings, b u t the s t a r t of an affair belongs t o the story w e tell
ourselves later, a n d t h e r e are p a r t i n g s , b u t final partings only in
the story. T h e r e are h o p e s , p l a n s , battles a n d ideas, b u t only in
retrospective stories a r e h o p e s unfulfilled, p l a n s miscarried, battles
decisive, and ideas seminal. Only in the story is it America which
C o l u m b u s discovers a n d only in the story is the k i n g d o m lost for
w a n t of a nail' (Mink, 1 9 7 0 , p p . 5 5 7 - 8 ) .
W h a t are we to say to this? Certainly w e must agree t h a t it is only
retrospectively that hopes can be characterized as unfulfilled or
battles as decisive and so on. But we so characterize t h e m in life as
much as in art. And to someone w h o says that in life there are no
endings, or that final partings take place only in stories, o n e is
tempted to reply, 'But have you never heard of d e a t h ? ' H o m e r did
n o t have to tell the tale of H e c t o r before A n d r o m a c h e could lament
unfulfilled h o p e a n d final parting. T h e r e are countless H e c t o r s a n d
countless A n d r o m a c h e s whose lives embodied the form of their
Homeric namesakes, but w h o never came to the attention of any
poet. W h a t is true is that in taking a n event as a beginning or an
ending we bestow a significance u p o n it which m a y be d e b a t a b l e .
Did the R o m a n republic end with the death of Julius Caesar, or at
Philippi, or with the founding of the principate? T h e answer is
surely that, like Charles II, it w a s a long time a-dying; b u t this
answer implies the reality of its ending as m u c h as d o any of the
former. There is a crucial sense in which the principate of Augustus,
or the taking of the oath in the tennis court, or the decision to
construct an atomic b o m b at Los Alamos constitute beginnings; the
peace of 4 0 4 B.C., the abolition of the Scottish Parliament a n d the
battle of W a t e r l o o equally constitute endings; while there are m a n y
events which are b o t h endings and beginnings.
As with beginnings, middles a n d endings, so also with genres a n d
with the p h e n o m e n o n of embedding. Consider the question of to
w h a t genre the life of T h o m a s Becket belongs, a question which has
t o be asked and answered before we can decide h o w it is to be
written. (On M i n k ' s paradoxical view this question could n o t be
asked until after the life h a d been written.) In some of the medieval
versions, T h o m a s ' s career is presented in terms of the c a n o n s
of medieval hagiography. In the Icelandic Thomas Saga he is
presented as a saga h e r o . In D o m David K n o w l e s ' s m o d e r n
biography the story is a tragedy, the tragic relationship of T h o m a s
and Henry II, each of w h o m satisfies Aristotle's d e m a n d t h a t the
h e r o be a great m a n with a fatal flaw. N o w it clearly makes sense to
ask w h o is right, if a n y o n e : the m o n k William of C a n t e r b u r y , the
a u t h o r of the saga, or the C a m b r i d g e Regius Professor Emeritus?
T h e answer a p p e a r s to be clearly the last. T h e true genre of the life
is neither hagiography n o r saga, but tragedy. So of such m o d e r n
narrative subjects as the life of T r o t s k y or t h a t of Lenin, of the
history of the Soviet C o m m u n i s t Party or the American presidency,
we may also ask: T o w h a t genre does their history belong? A n d this
is the same question a s : W h a t type of a c c o u n t of their history will
be both true a n d intelligible?
Or consider again h o w o n e n a r r a t i v e m a y b e e m b e d d e d in
another. In b o t h plays a n d novels t h e r e are w e l l - k n o w n e x a m p l e s :
the play within the play in Hamlet, W a n d e r i n g Willie's T a l e in
Redgauntlet, A e n e a s ' n a r r a t i v e t o D i d o in b o o k 2 of t h e Aeneid,
and so on. But there are equally w e l l - k n o w n e x a m p l e s in real life.
Consider again the w a y in w h i c h the career of Becket as a r c h b i s h o p
and chancellor is e m b e d d e d within the reign of H e n r y II, or the w a y
in which the tragic life of M a r y S t u a r t is e m b e d d e d in t h a t of
Elizabeth I, or the history of the C o n f e d e r a c y w i t h i n the h i s t o r y of
the United States. S o m e o n e m a y discover (or n o t discover) t h a t he
or she is a character in a n u m b e r of n a r r a t i v e s at the s a m e time,
some of them e m b e d d e d in o t h e r s . O r again, w h a t seemed t o be
an intelligible narrative in w h i c h o n e w a s p l a y i n g a p a r t m a y be
transformed wholly or p a r t l y into a story of unintelligible episodes.
This last is w h a t h a p p e n e d to Kafka's c h a r a c t e r K. in b o t h The
Trial and The Castle. (It is n o accident t h a t Kafka could n o t end
his novels, for the n o t i o n of an e n d i n g like t h a t of a beginning has
its sense only in t e r m s of intelligible narrative.)
I spoke earlier of the a g e n t as n o t only an a c t o r , b u t an a u t h o r .
N o w I must emphasize t h a t w h a t the agent is able to d o a n d say
intelligibly as an actor is deeply affected by the fact t h a t w e are
never more (and s o m e t i m e s less) t h a n the c o - a u t h o r s of o u r o w n
narratives. O n l y in fantasy d o w e live w h a t story w e please. In life,
as both Aristotle a n d Engels n o t e d , w e are a l w a y s u n d e r certain
constraints. W e enter u p o n a stage w h i c h w e did n o t design a n d we
find ourselves p a r t of a n a c t i o n t h a t w a s not of o u r m a k i n g . Each of
us being a main c h a r a c t e r in his o w n d r a m a plays s u b o r d i n a t e p a r t s
in the d r a m a s of o t h e r s , a n d each d r a m a c o n s t r a i n s the o t h e r s . In
my drama, p e r h a p s , 1 a m H a m l e t or Iago or at least the s w i n e h e r d
who may yet b e c o m e a p r i n c e , b u t t o y o u I a m only A G e n t l e m a n
or at best Second M u r d e r e r , while y o u are m y Polonius o r my
Gravedigger, b u t y o u r o w n h e r o . Each of o u r d r a m a s exerts
constraints o n each o t h e r ' s , m a k i n g the w h o l e different from the
Parts, but still d r a m a t i c .
It is considerations as c o m p l e x as these w h i c h are involved in
making the n o t i o n of intelligibility the c o n c e p t u a l c o n n e c t i n g link
between the n o t i o n of a c t i o n a n d t h a t of n a r r a t i v e . O n c e w e have
understood its i m p o r t a n c e the claim t h a t t h e c o n c e p t of a n action is
secondary t o t h a t of a n intelligible action will p e r h a p s a p p e a r less
bizarre and so t o o will t h e claim t h a t the n o t i o n of ' a n ' action,
while of the highest practical i m p o r t a n c e , is always a potentially
misleading abstraction. An action is a m o m e n t in a possible or
actual history or in a n u m b e r of such histories. T h e n o t i o n of a
history is as fundamental a notion as the notion of an action. Each
requires the other. But I cannot say this w i t h o u t noticing t h a t it is
precisely this that Sartre denies — as indeed his w h o l e theory of the
self, which captures so well the spirit of m o d e r n i t y , requires t h a t he
should. In La Nausee, Sartre makes Antoine R o q u e n t i n argue not
just w h a t M i n k argues, t h a t narrative is very different from life, but
that to present h u m a n life in the form of a n a r r a t i v e is always to
falsify it. There are not and there c a n n o t be any t r u e stories. H u m a n
life is composed of discrete actions which lead n o w h e r e , w h i c h have
n o order; the story-teller imposes o n h u m a n events retrospectively
an order which they did not have while they were lived. Clearly if
Sartre/Roquentin is right - I speak of Sartre/Roquentin t o distin
guish him from such other well-known characters as Sartre/Heideg
ger and Sartre/Marx - my central contention m u s t be mistaken.
There is nonetheless an important point of agreement between my
thesis and t h a t of Sartre/Roquentin. W e agree in identifying the
intelligibility of an action with its place in a narrative sequence.
Only Sartre/Roquentin takes it that h u m a n actions are as such
unintelligible occurrences: it is to a realization of the metaphysical
implications of this that Roquentin is b r o u g h t in the course of the
novel and the practical effect upon h t m is to bring t o an end his o w n
project of writing an historical biography. This project n o longer
makes sense. Either he will write w h a t is t r u e o r he will write an
intelligible history, but the one possibility excludes the o t h e r . Is
Sartre/Roquentin right?
We can discover w h a t is w r o n g with Sartre's thesis in either of
t w o ways. O n e is to ask: w h a t w o u l d h u m a n actions deprived of
any falsifying narrative order be like? Sartre himself never answers
this question; it is striking that in o r d e r to s h o w t h a t there are n o
true narratives, he himself writes a narrative albeit a fictional one.
But the only picture that I find myself able to form of h u m a n n a t u r e
an-sich, prior to the alleged misinterpretation by narrative is the
kind of dislocated sequence which D r J o h n s o n offers us in his notes
of his travels in France: 'There we waited o n the ladies - Morville's.
- Spain. C o u n t r y t o w n s all beggars. At Dijon he could not find the
way to Orleans. - Cross r o a d s of France very b a d . - Five soldiers. -
W o m e n . - Soldiers escaped. - T h e Colonel w o u l d not lose five men
for the sake of o n e w o m a n . - T h e magistrate c a n n o t seize a soldier
but by the Colonel's permission, etc., e t c ' (quoted in H o b s b a u m ,
1 9 7 3 , p . 3 2 ) . W h a t this suggests is w h a t I take t o be true, namely
1 3 7
Alasdair Maclntyre
that the characterization of a c t i o n s allegedly p r i o r t o a n y n a r r a t i v e
form being imposed u p o n t h e m will a l w a y s t u r n o u t t o be the
presentation of w h a t are plainly the disjointed p a r t s of s o m e
possible narrative. ,
We can also a p p r o a c h the q u e s t i o n in a n o t h e r w a y . W h a t 1 h a v e
called a history is an e n a c t e d d r a m a t i c n a r r a t i v e in w h i c h the
characters are also the a u t h o r s . T h e c h a r a c t e r s of c o u r s e n e v e r s t a r t
literally ab initio; they p l u n g e in medias res, the b e g i n n i n g s of their
story already made for t h e m by w h a t a n d w h o h a s g o n e before. But
when Julian Grenfell or E d w a r d T h o m a s w e n t off t o F r a n c e in the
1914-18 war they n o less e n a c t e d a n a r r a t i v e t h a n did M e n e l a u s o r
Odysseus when they w e n t off. T h e difference b e t w e e n i m a g i n a r y
characters and real ones is n o t in the n a r r a t i v e form of w h a t they
do; it is in the degree of their a u t h o r s h i p of t h a t form a n d of their
own deeds. Of course just as they d o n o t begin w h e r e they please,
they cannot go o n exactly as they please e i t h e r ; e a c h c h a r a c t e r is
constrained by the actions of o t h e r s a n d by t h e social settings
presupposed in his a n d t h e i r a c t i o n s , a p o i n t forcibly m a d e by M a r x
in the classical, if not entirely satisfactory a c c o u n t of h u m a n
life as enacted d r a m a t i c n a r r a t i v e , The Eighteenth Brumaire of
Louis Bonaparte.
I call M a r x ' s account less t h a n satisfactory p a r t l y b e c a u s e he
wishes to present the n a r r a t i v e of h u m a n social life in a w a y t h a t
will be compatible with a view of t h a t life as l a w - g o v e r n e d a n d
predictable in a particular w a y . But it is crucial t h a t at a n y given
point in an enacted d r a m a t i c n a r r a t i v e w e d o n o t k n o w w h a t will
happen next. T h e kind of u n p r e d i c t a b i l i t y for w h i c h i a r g u e d [in
chapter 8, After Virtue] is required by the n a r r a t i v e s t r u c t u r e of
human life, and the empirical g e n e r a l i z a t i o n s a n d e x p l o r a t i o n s
which social scientists discover p r o v i d e a k i n d of u n d e r s t a n d i n g of
human life which is perfectly c o m p a t i b l e w i t h t h a t s t r u c t u r e .
This unpredictability coexists w i t h a s e c o n d crucial c h a r a c t e r i s t i c
of all lived narratives, a certain teleological c h a r a c t e r . W e live o u t
our lives, both individually a n d in o u r r e l a t i o n s h i p s w i t h each
other, in the light of certain c o n c e p t i o n s of a p o s s i b l e s h a r e d f u t u r e ,
a ru
t u r e in which certain possibilities b e c k o n us f o r w a r d a n d o t h e r s
re
P e l us, some seem already foreclosed a n d o t h e r s p e r h a p s inevit-
a
»e. There is n o present w h i c h is n o t i n f o r m e d by s o m e i m a g e of
some future a n d an image of the future w h i c h a l w a y s p r e s e n t s itself
the form of a telos - o r of a variety of e n d s or goals - t o w a r d s
men e are either m o v i n g o r failing t o m o v e in t h e p r e s e n t ,
W
^ p r e d i c t a b i l i t y a n d teleology t h e r e f o r e coexist as p a r t of o u r lives;

e characters in a fictional n a r r a t i v e w e d o n o t k n o w w h a t will
h a p p e n next, but n o n e the less o u r lives h a v e a certain form which
projects itself t o w a r d s o u r future. T h u s the narratives which we live
out have both an unpredictable a n d a partially teleological charac
ter. If the narrative of o u r individual a n d social lives is t o continue
intelligibly - and either type of narrative m a y lapse into unintel-
ligibility - it is always b o t h the case t h a t there are constraints on
h o w the story can continue and t h a t within those constraints there
are indefinitely m a n y w a y s t h a t it can continue.
A central thesis then begins to emerge: m a n is in his actions and
practice, as well as in his fictions, essentially a story-telling animal.
H e is n o t essentially, b u t becomes t h r o u g h his history, a teller of
stories that aspire to truth. But the key question for men is not
about their o w n a u t h o r s h i p ; 1 can only answer the question ' W h a t
am I to d o ? ' if I can answer the prior question 'Of w h a t story or
stories d o I find myself a p a r t ? ' W e enter h u m a n society, t h a t is,
with one or m o r e imputed characters - roles into w h i c h w e have
been drafted - and we have to learn w h a t they are in o r d e r t o be
able to u n d e r s t a n d h o w others respond to us a n d h o w our
responses t o them are apt to be construed. It is t h r o u g h hearing
stories a b o u t wicked stepmothers, lost children, g o o d b u t mis
guided kings, wolves that suckle twin boys, youngest sons w h o
receive n o inheritance but must m a k e their o w n w a y in the w o r l d
and eldest sons w h o waste their inheritance o n r i o t o u s living a n d go
into exile to live with the swine, that children learn or mislearn b o t h
w h a t a child and w h a t a p a r e n t is, w h a t the cast of characters m a y
be in the d r a m a into which they have been b o r n a n d w h a t the w a y s
of the w o r l d are. Deprive children of stories a n d you leave t h e m
unscripted, anxious stutterers in their actions as in their w o r d s .
Hence there is n o way to give us an u n d e r s t a n d i n g of any society,
including o u r o w n , except through the stock of stories which
constitute its initial d r a m a t i c resources. M y t h o l o g y , in its original
sense, is at the h e a r t of things. Vico w a s right a n d so w a s Joyce.
And so t o o of course is that moral tradition from heroic society t o
its medieval heirs according to which the telling of stories h a s a key
part in educating us into the virtues.
1 suggested earlier t h a t ' a n ' action is always an episode in a
possible history: I w o u l d n o w like to m a k e a related suggestion
a b o u t a n o t h e r concept, that of personal identity. D e r e k Parfit a n d
others have recently d r a w n o u r attention to the c o n t r a s t between
the criteria of strict identity, which is an all-or-nothing m a t t e r
[either the T i c h b o r n e claimant is the last T i c h b o r n e heir; either all
the properties of the last heir belong t o the claimant or the claimant
is not the heir - Leibniz's Law applies) a n d the psychological
1 3 9
Alasdair Maclntyre
continuities of personality w h i c h are a m a t t e r of m o r e or less. (Am
I the same m a n as fifty I w a s at forty in respect of m e m o r y ,
intellectual p o w e r s , critical responses? M o r e or less.) But w h a t is
crucial to h u m a n beings as c h a r a c t e r s in enacted narratives is t h a t ,
possessing only the resources of psychological c o n t i n u i t y , w e have
to be able t o respond t o the i m p u t a t i o n of strict identity. I a m
forever whatever I h a v e b e e n at any time for o t h e r s - a n d I m a y at
any time be called u p o n t o a n s w e r for it - n o m a t t e r h o w c h a n g e d I
may be now. T h e r e is n o w a y of founding my identity - or lack of it
- on the psychological c o n t i n u i t y or discontinuity of the self. T h e
self inhabits a character w h o s e unity is given as the unity of a
character. Once again there is a crucial d i s a g r e e m e n t with empiri
cist or analytical p h i l o s o p h e r s o n the o n e h a n d a n d w i t h existential
ists on the other.
Empiricists, such as L o c k e or H u m e , tried t o give an a c c o u n t of
personal identity solely in t e r m s of psychological states or events.
Analytical philosophers, in so m a n y w a y s their heirs as well as their
critics, have wrestled w i t h t h e c o n n e c t i o n b e t w e e n those states a n d
events and strict identity u n d e r s t o o d in t e r m s of Leibniz's L a w .
Both have failed t o see t h a t a b a c k g r o u n d has been o m i t t e d , the
lack of which m a k e s the p r o b l e m s insoluble. T h a t b a c k g r o u n d is
provided by the concept of a story a n d of t h a t kind of unity of
character which a story r e q u i r e s . J u s t as a history is n o t a sequence
of actions, b u t the c o n c e p t of an action is t h a t of a m o m e n t in an
actual or possible history a b s t r a c t e d for s o m e p u r p o s e from t h a t
history, so the c h a r a c t e r s in a h i s t o r y are n o t a collection of
persons, but the c o n c e p t of a p e r s o n is t h a t of a c h a r a c t e r
abstracted from a history.
What the narrative c o n c e p t of selfhood requires is thus twofold.
On the one h a n d , I a m w h a t I m a y justifiably be t a k e n by o t h e r s to
be in the course of living o u t a story t h a t r u n s from my birth to my
death; I am the subject of a history t h a t is m y o w n a n d n o o n e
else's, that has its o w n peculiar m e a n i n g . W h e n s o m e o n e c o m p l a i n s
- as do some of those w h o a t t e m p t o r c o m m i t suicide - t h a t his c r
her life is meaningless, h e o r she is often a n d p e r h a p s characteristi
cally complaining t h a t the n a r r a t i v e of their life has b e c o m e
unintelligible t o t h e m , t h a t it lacks any p o i n t , any m o v e m e n t
towards a climax or a telos. H e n c e the p o i n t of d o i n g any o n e thing
rather than a n o t h e r at crucial j u n c t u r e s in their lives seems t o such a
Person to h a v e been lost.
To be the subject of a n a r r a t i v e t h a t r u n s from o n e ' s birth t o
°ne s death is, I r e m a r k e d earlier, t o be a c c o u n t a b l e for the actions
and experiences w h i c h c o m p o s e a n a r r a t a b l e life. It is, t h a t is, t o be
o p e n t o being asked to give a certain kind of a c c o u n t of w h a t one
did or w h a t h a p p e n e d t o one or w h a t one witnessed a t any earlier
point in one's life the time at which the question is posed. Of course
someone may have forgotten or suffered brain d a m a g e or simply
n o t attended sufficiently at the relevant times t o be able t o give the
relevant account. But to say of s o m e o n e u n d e r some o n e descrip
tion ('The prisoner of the Chateau d ' l f ) t h a t he is the same person
as s o m e o n e characterized quite differently ('The C o u n t of M o n t e
Cristo') is precisely to say t h a t it m a k e s sense t o ask him to give an
intelligible narrative account enabling us to u n d e r s t a n d h o w he
could at different times a n d different places be o n e a n d the same
person and yet be so differently characterized. T h u s personal
identity is just that identity presupposed by the unity of the
character which the unity of a narrative requires. W i t h o u t such
unity there w o u l d n o t be subjects of w h o m stories could be told.
The other aspect of narrative selfhood is correlative: I a m not
only accountable, I am one w h o can always ask others for an
account, w h o can put others to the question. I a m p a r t of their
story, as they are p a r t of mine. The narrative of any one life is p a r t
of an interlocking set of narratives. M o r e o v e r this asking for and
giving of accounts itself plays a n i m p o r t a n t p a r t in constituting
narratives. Asking you w h a t you did a n d w h y , saying w h a t I did
a n d w h y , p o n d e r i n g the differences between your account of w h a t I
did a n d my a c c o u n t of w h a t I did, and vice versa, these are essential
constituents of all b u t the very simplest a n d barest of narratives.
T h u s w i t h o u t the accountability of the self those trains of events
that constitute all b u t the simplest a n d barest of narratives could
not occur; a n d w i t h o u t t h a t same accountability narratives w o u l d
lack that continuity required t o m a k e both t h e m a n d the actions
that constitute t h e m intelligible.
It is i m p o r t a n t t o notice that I a m not arguing that the con
cepts of narrative o r of intelligibility or of accountability are more
fundamental than that of personal identity. T h e concepts of
narrative, intelligibility a n d accountability presuppose the applic
ability of the concept of personal identity, just as it p r e s u p
poses their applicability a n d just as indeed each of these three
presupposes the applicability of the t w o others. T h e relationship is
one of m u t u a l presupposition. It does follow of course t h a t all
attempts t o elucidate the n o t i o n of personal identity independently
of a n d in isolation from the notions of narrative, intelligibility a n d
accountability are b o u n d t o fail. As all such attempts have.
It is n o w possible t o return t o the question from which this
enquiry into the n a t u r e of h u m a n action and identity started: In
what does the unity of an individual life consist? T h e answer is that
its unity is the unity of a n a r r a t i v e embodied in a single life. T o ask
' W h a t is the g o o d for m e ? ' is to ask h o w best I might live out that
unity and bring it to c o m p l e t i o n . T o ask ' W h a t is the good for
m a n ? ' is t o ask w h a t all answers to the former question must have
in c o m m o n . But n o w it is i m p o r t a n t to emphasize that it is the
systematic asking of these t w o questions and the a t t e m p t t o answer
them in deed as well as in w o r d which provide the moral life with
its unity. T h e unity of a h u m a n life is the unity of a narrative quest.
Quests sometimes fail, are frustrated, a b a n d o n e d or dissipated into
distractions; a n d h u m a n lives may in all these ways also fail. But the
only criteria for success or failure in a h u m a n life as a whole are the
criteria of success or failure in a n a r r a t e d or to-be-narrated quest. A
quest for w h a t ?
T w o key features of t h e medieval conception of a quest need to
be recalled. T h e first is t h a t w i t h o u t some at least partly determin
ate conception of the final telos there could n o t be any beginning to
a quest. Some c o n c e p t i o n of the good for m a n is required. Whence
is such a conception t o be d r a w n ? Precisely from those questions
which led us t o a t t e m p t t o t r a n s c e n d that limited conception of the
virtues which is available in a n d t h r o u g h practices. It is in looking
for a conception of the g o o d which will enable us to order other
goods, for a c o n c e p t i o n of the g o o d which will enable us to extend
our u n d e r s t a n d i n g of the p u r p o s e and content of the virtues, for a
conception of the g o o d w h i c h will enable us to understand the place
of integrity a n d c o n s t a n c y in life, t h a t we initially define the kind of
life which is a quest for the g o o d . But secondly it is clear the
medieval conception of a quest is n o t at all that of a search for
something already a d e q u a t e l y characterized, as miners search for
gold or geologists for oil. It is in the course of the quest and only
through e n c o u n t e r i n g a n d coping with the various particular
h a r m s , d a n g e r s , t e m p t a t i o n s a n d distractions which provide any
quest with its episodes a n d incidents that the goal of the quest is
finally to be u n d e r s t o o d . A quest is always an education both as to
the character of t h a t w h i c h is sought and in self-knowledge.
The virtues therefore are to be u n d e r s t o o d as those dispositions
which will n o t only sustain practices and enable us to achieve
the g o o d s internal t o practices, b u t which will also sustain us in the
relevant k i n d of quest for the g o o d , by enabling us to overcome the
h a r m s , d a n g e r s , t e m p t a t i o n s a n d distractions which we encounter,
and which will furnish us with increasing self-knowledge and
increasing k n o w l e d g e of t h e good. T h e catalogue of the virtues will
therefore include the virtues required to sustain the kind of
households a n d the kind of political c o m m u n i t i e s in which m e n and
w o m e n can seek for the good together and the virtues necessary for
philosophical enquiry a b o u t the character of the g o o d . We have
then arrived at a provisional conclusion a b o u t the good life for
m a n : the good life for m a n is the life spent in seeking for the good
life for m a n , a n d the virtues necessary for the seeking are those
which will enable us to u n d e r s t a n d w h a t more a n d w h a t else the
good life for m a n is. W e have also completed the second stage in
o u r account of the virtues, by situating t h e m in relation t o the good
life for m a n and n o t only in relation to practices. But o u r enquiry
requires a third stage.
For I a m never able t o seek for the g o o d or exercise t h e virtues
only qua individual. This is partly because w h a t it is to live the good
life concretely varies from circumstance to circumstances even
w h e n it is one a n d the same conception of the g o o d life and o n e and
the same set of virtues which are being e m b o d i e d in a h u m a n life.
W h a t the good life is for a fifth-century Athenian general will not be
the same as w h a t it was for a medieval n u n o r a seventeenth-century
farmer. But it is n o t just t h a t different individuals live in different
social circumstances; it is also that w e all a p p r o a c h o u r o w n
circumstances as bearers of a particular social identity. I am
someone's son or daughter, someone else's cousin or uncle; 1 a m a
citizen of this or that city, a m e m b e r of this or t h a t guild or
profession; I belong t o this clan, t h a t tribe, this n a t i o n . Hence w h a t
is good for me has to be the good for o n e w h o inhabits these roles.
As such, I inherit from the p a s t of my family, my city, my tribe, my
n a t i o n , a variety of debts, inheritances, rightful expectations and
obligations. These constitute the given of my life, my m o r a l starting
point. This is in p a r t w h a t gives my life its o w n m o r a l particularity.
This t h o u g h t is likely to appear alien and even surprising from
the standpoint of modern individualism. F r o m the s t a n d p o i n t of
individualism I a m w h a t I myself c h o o s e t o be. I can a l w a y s , if I
wish to, p u t in question w h a t are t a k e n t o be the merely contingent
social features of my existence. I m a y biologically be my father's
son; but I c a n n o t be held responsible for w h a t he did unless 1
choose implicitly o r explicitly to assume such responsibility. I may
legally be a citizen of a certain c o u n t r y ; but I c a n n o t be held
responsible for w h a t my country does or has d o n e unless I choose
implicitly or explicitly t o assume such responsibility. Such indi
vidualism is expressed by those m o d e r n Americans w h o deny any
responsibility for the effects of slavery u p o n black Americans,
saying 'I never o w n e d any slaves'. It is m o r e subtly the s t a n d p o i n t
of those other m o d e r n Americans w h o accept a nicely calculated
responsibility for such effects measured precisely by the benefits
they themselves as individuals have indirectly received from slavery.
In both cases 'being an A m e r i c a n ' is n o t in itself taken to be part of
the moral identity of the individual. And of course there is nothing
peculiar to m o d e r n Americans in this attitude: the Englishman w h o
says. '7 never did any w r o n g to Ireland; w h y bring up that old
history as t h o u g h it h a d s o m e t h i n g to d o with meV or the young
German w h o believes t h a t being born after 1945 means that what
Nazis did t o J e w s has n o m o r a l relevance to his relationship to his
Jewish c o n t e m p o r a r i e s , exhibit the same attitude, that according to
which the self is d e t a c h a b l e from its social a n d historical roles and
statuses. A n d the self so detached is of course a self very much at
home in either Sartre's or Goffman's perspective, a self that can
have n o history. T h e c o n t r a s t with the narrative view of the self is
clear. For the story of my life is always embedded in the story of
those c o m m u n i t i e s from which I derive my identity. I am born with
a past; a n d t o try t o cut myself off from that past, in the
individualist m o d e , is t o deform my present relationships. The
possession of an historical identity a n d the possession of a social
identity coincide. N o t i c e t h a t rebellion against my identity is always
one possible m o d e of expressing it.
Notice also t h a t the fact t h a t the self has to find its moral identity
in a n d t h r o u g h its m e m b e r s h i p in communities such as those of the
family, the n e i g h b o u r h o o d , the city and the tribe does not entail
that the self has to accept the m o r a l limitations of the particularity
of those forms of c o m m u n i t y . W i t h o u t those moral particularities
to begin from there w o u l d never be anywhere to begin; but it is in
moving f o r w a r d from such particularity that the search for the
good, for the universal, consists. Yet particularity can never be
simply left b e h i n d or obliterated. T h e notion of escaping from it
into a realm of entirely universal m a x i m s which belong to man as
such, w h e t h e r in its eighteenth-century Kantian form or in the
presentation of some m o d e r n analytical moral philosophies, is an
illusion a n d an illusion with painful consequences. When men and
w o m e n identify w h a t are in fact their partial a n d particular causes
too easily a n d t o o completely with the cause of some universal
principle, they usually behave worse t h a n they w o u l d otherwise do.
W h a t I a m , therefore, is in key p a r t w h a t I inherit, a specific past
that is p r e s e n t t o s o m e degree in my present. I find myself part of a
history a n d t h a t is generally to say, whether I like it or not, whether
I recognize it or n o t , o n e of the bearers of a tradition. It was
i m p o r t a n t w h e n I characterized the concept of a practice to notice
that practices always h a v e histories a n d that at any given m o m e n t
w h a t a practice is depends o n a m o d e of u n d e r s t a n d i n g it w h i c h has
been transmitted often t h r o u g h m a n y generations. And thus,
insofar as the virtues sustain the relationships required for prac
tices, they have t o sustain relationships t o the p a s t - a n d to the
future - as well as in the present. But the traditions t h r o u g h which
particular practices are transmitted a n d reshaped never exist in
isolation for larger social traditions. W h a t constitutes such tradi
tions?
W e are apt t o be misled here by the ideological uses to which
the concept of a tradition has been put by conservative political
theorists. Characteristically such theorists h a v e followed Burke in
contrasting tradition with reason a n d the stability of tradition w i t h
conflict. Both contrasts obfuscate. For all reasoning takes place
within the context of s o m e traditional m o d e of t h o u g h t , transcend
ing through criticism and invention the limitations of w h a t h a d
hitherto been reasoned in that tradition; this is as t r u e of m o d e r n
physics as of medieval logic. M o r e o v e r w h e n a tradition is in g o o d
order it is always partially constituted by an a r g u m e n t a b o u t the
goods the pursuit of which gives t o t h a t tradition its p a r t i c u l a r
point a n d purpose.
So w h e n an institution — a university, say, or a farm, or a hospital
- is the bearer of a tradition of practice or practices, its c o m m o n life
will be partly, but in a centrally i m p o r t a n t w a y , constituted by a
c o n t i n u o u s argument as t o w h a t a university is and o u g h t t o b e or
w h a t good farming is or w h a t good medicine is. T r a d i t i o n s , w h e n
vital, e m b o d y continuities of conflict. Indeed w h e n a tradition
becomes Burkean, it is always dying o r dead.
T h e individualism of modernity could of course find n o use for
the notion of tradition within its o w n conceptual scheme except as
an adversary n o t i o n ; it therefore all t o o willingly a b a n d o n e d it t o
the Burkeans, w h o , faithful t o Burke's o w n allegiance, tried t o
combine adherence in politics to a conception of tradition w h i c h
w o u l d vindicate the oligarchical revolution of p r o p e r t y of 1 6 8 8 a n d
adherence in economics t o the doctrine and institutions of the free
m a r k e t . T h e theoretical incoherence of this mismatch did n o t
deprive it of ideological usefulness. But the o u t c o m e has been t h a t
m o d e r n conservatives are for the most p a r t engaged in conserving
only older rather than later versions of liberal individualism. Their
o w n core doctrine is as liberal and as individualist as t h a t of self-
avowed liberals.
A living tradition then is an historically extended, socially
embodied a r g u m e n t , a n d an argument precisely in p a r t a b o u t
the goods which constitute t h a t t r a d i t i o n . W i t h i n a tradition the
pursuit of g o o d s e x t e n d s t h r o u g h generations, sometimes t h r o u g h
many generations. H e n c e the individual's search for his or her good
is generally a n d characteristically c o n d u c t e d within a context
defined by those t r a d i t i o n s of w h i c h the individual's life is a p a r t ,
and this is true b o t h of t h o s e g o o d s w h i c h are internal t o practices
and of the g o o d s of a single life. O n c e again the narrative
phenomenon of e m b e d d i n g is crucial: the history of a practice in
our time is generally a n d characteristically e m b e d d e d in a n d m a d e
intelligible in t e r m s of the larger a n d longer history of the tradition
through which the practice in its present form w a s conveyed to us;
the history of each of o u r o w n lives is generally a n d characteristi
cally embedded in a n d m a d e intelligible in terms of the larger and
longer histories of a n u m b e r of t r a d i t i o n s . I have to say 'generally
and characteristically' r a t h e r t h a n ' a l w a y s ' , for traditions decay,
disintegrate a n d d i s a p p e a r . W h a t t h e n sustains a n d strengthens
traditions? W h a t w e a k e n s a n d destroys them?
The answer in key p a r t is: the exercise or the lack of exercise of
the relevant virtues. T h e virtues find their point a n d p u r p o s e not
only in sustaining those relationships necessary if the variety of
goods internal to practices are t o be achieved a n d n o t only in
sustaining the form of an individual life in which that individual
may seek o u t his or her g o o d as the g o o d of his or her whole life,
but also in sustaining t h o s e t r a d i t i o n s which p r o v i d e both practices
and individual lives with their necessary historical context. Lack of
justice, lack of truthfulness, lack of c o u r a g e , lack of the relevant
intellectual virtues - these c o r r u p t traditions, just as they d o those
institutions a n d practices w h i c h derive their life from the traditions
of which they are the c o n t e m p o r a r y e m b o d i m e n t s . T o recognize
this is of course also t o recognize the existence of an additional
virtue, one w h o s e i m p o r t a n c e is p e r h a p s m o s t obvious w h e n it is
least present, the virtue of h a v i n g an a d e q u a t e sense of the
traditions to which o n e b e l o n g s or w h i c h confront one. This virtue
is not to be confused w i t h a n y form of conservative a n t i q u a n a n i s m ;
I am not praising those w h o c h o o s e the conventional conservative
role of laudator temporis acti. It is r a t h e r the case that an a d e q u a t e
sense of tradition manifests itself in a g r a s p of those future
possibilities w h i c h the p a s t has m a d e available to the present.
Living t r a d i t i o n s , just because they c o n t i n u e a not-yet-completed
narrative, confront a future w h o s e d e t e r m i n a t e a n d determinable
character, so far as it possesses any, derives from the past.
In practical r e a s o n i n g the possession of this virtue is not
manifested so m u c h in the k n o w l e d g e of a set of generalizations or
maxims which m a y p r o v i d e o u r practical inferences with major
premises; its presence or absence rather a p p e a r s o n the kind of
capacity for judgement which the agent possesses in k n o w i n g h o w
to select a m o n g the relevant stack of m a x i m s a n d h o w to apply
them in particular situations. Cardinal Pole possessed it, M a r y
T u d o r did not; M o n t r o s e possessed it, Charles I did not. W h a t
Cardinal Pole and the M a r q u i s of M o n t r o s e possessed were in fact
those virtues which enable their possessors to p u r s u e b o t h their
o w n good and the good of the tradition of which they are the
bearers even in situations denned by the necessity of tragic,
dilemmatic choice.
It has often been suggested - by J. L. Austin, for e x a m p l e - t h a t
cither we can admit the existence of rival a n d contingently
incompatible goods which m a k e incompatible claims t o our
practical allegiance or we can believe in some d e t e r m i n a t e concep
tion of the good life for m a n , but that these are mutually exclusive
alternatives. N o one can consistently hold b o t h these views. W h a t
this contention is blind to is t h a t there m a y be better or w o r s e ways
for individuals t o live t h r o u g h the tragic confrontation of good with
good. And that to k n o w w h a t the good life for m a n is m a y require
k n o w i n g w h a t are the better and w h a t are the w o r s e ways of living
in and through such situations. N o t h i n g a priori rules o u t this
possibility; and this suggests that within a view such as Austin's
there is concealed a n unacknowledged empirical premise a b o u t the
character of tragic situations.
O n e way in which the choice between rival g o o d s in a tragic
situation differs from the m o d e r n choice between i n c o m m e n s u r a b l e
moral premises is that both of the alternative courses of action
which confront the individual have t o be recognized as leading t o
some authentic a n d substantial good. By choosing o n e I d o n o t h i n g
to diminish or derogate from the claims u p o n me of the other; a n d
therefore, whatever I d o , I shall have left u n d o n e w h a t I o u g h t t o
have d o n e . T h e tragic protagonist, unlike the m o r a l agent as
depicted by Sartre or H a r e , is n o t choosing between allegiance to
one moral principle rather t h a n a n o t h e r , n o r is he or she deciding
upon some principle of priority between moral principles. H e n c e
the ' o u g h t ' involved has a different m e a n i n g a n d force from t h a t of
the ' o u g h t ' in moral principles u n d e r s t o o d in a m o d e r n w a y . For
the tragic protagonist c a n n o t d o everything t h a t he or she o u g h t t o
d o . This ' o u g h t ' , unlike Kant's, does n o t imply ' c a n ' . M o r e o v e r any
attempt to m a p the logic of such ' o u g h t ' assertions o n t o some
m o d a l calculus so as t o p r o d u c e a version of deontic logic has to
fail. (See, from a very different point of view, Bas C. Van Fraasen,
1973.)
1 4 7
Alasdair Maclntyre
Yet it is clear t h a t the m o r a l t a s k of t h e t r a g i c p r o t a g o n i s t m a y b e

performed better or worse, i n d e p e n d e n t l y of the c h o i c e b e t w e e n
alternatives that he or she m a k e s - ex hypothesise or she h a s n o
right choice to make. T h e tragic p r o t a g o n i s t m a y b e h a v e heroically
or unheroically, generously o r u n g e n e r o u s l y , gracefully or g r a c e -
lessly, prudently or i m p r u d e n t l y . T o p e r f o r m his or h e r t a s k
better rather than w o r s e will be t o d o b o t h w h a t is b e t t e r for h t m o r
ha qua individual or qua p a r e n t or child or qua citizen o r m e m b e r
of a profession, or perhaps qua s o m e o r all of t h e s e . T h e e x i s t e n c e
of tragic dilemmas casts n o d o u b t u p o n a n d p r o v i d e s n o c o u n t e r
examples to the thesis that assertions of the form ' T o d o this in this
way would be better for X a n d / o r for his o r h e r family, city o r
profession' are susceptible of objective t r u t h a n d falsity, a n y m o r e
than the existence of alternative a n d c o n t i n g e n t l y i n c o m p a t i b l e
forms of medical t r e a t m e n t casts d o u b t o n the thesis t h a t a s s e r t i o n s
of the form ' T o u n d e r g o this medical t r e a t m e n t in this w a y
would be better for X a n d / o r his or h e r family' are s u s c e p t i b l e of
objective truth and falsity. (See, from a different p o i n t of v i e w , t h e
illuminating discussion in Samuel Guttenplan, 1979-80,
PP. 61-80.)
The presupposition of this objectivity is of c o u r s e t h a t w e can
understand the notion of ' g o o d for X ' a n d c o g n a t e n o t i o n s in t e r m s
of some conception of the unity of X ' s life. W h a t is b e t t e r or w o r s e
for X depends u p o n the c h a r a c t e r of t h a t intelligible n a r r a t i v e
which provides X ' s life w i t h its unity. U n s u r p r i s i n g l y it is t h e lack of
any such unifying c o n c e p t i o n of a h u m a n life w h i c h u n d e r l i e s
modern denials of the factual c h a r a c t e r of m o r a l j u d g e m e n t s a n d
more especially of those j u d g e m e n t s w h i c h ascribe virtues o r vices
to individuals.
I argued earlier that every m o r a l p h i l o s o p h y h a s s o m e p a r t i c u l a r
sociology as its c o u n t e r p a r t . W h a t 1 h a v e tried t o spell o u t h e r e
»s the kind of u n d e r s t a n d i n g of social life w h i c h the t r a d i t i o n of t h e
virtues requires, a kind of u n d e r s t a n d i n g very different from t h o s e
ominant in the culture of b u r e a u c r a t i c i n d i v i d u a l i s m . W i t h i n
at culture conceptions of the virtues b e c o m e m a r g i n a l a n d t h e
t n e
tion °* virtues r e m a i n s central o n l y in t h e lives of social
o u s
^ , P whose existence is o n the m a r g i n s of t h e central c u l t u r e ,
c e n t r £ U
new culture of liberal o r b u r e a u c r a t i c i n d i v i d u a l i s m
i c ^ " ^ P t i o n s of the virtues e m e r g e a n d t h e c o n c e p t of a v i r t u e
l s
"self transformed.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Samuel Guttenplan, 'Moral Realism and Moral Dilemmas', Proceedings of

the Aristotelian Society, 1979-80: pp. 61-80.
Barbara Hardy, 'Towards a Poetics of Fiction: An Approach Through
Narrative', Novel, 2, 1968: pp. 5-14.
Philip Hobsbaum, A Reader's Guide to Charles Dickens, 1973.
Louis O. Mink, 'History and Fiction as Modes of Comprehension', New
Literary History, 1, 1970: pp. 541-58.
John Rawls, A Theory of Justice, 1971.
Bas C. Van Frassen, 'Values and the Heart's Command', Journal of
Philosophy, 70, 1973: pp. 5-19.
7
Peter Berger: On the Obsolescence

of the Concept of Honour •
Honour occupies about the same place in c o n t e m p o r a r y us ^ .

chastity. An individual asserting it h a r d l y invites a d m i r a t i o n .u
one who claims to have lost it is an object of a m u s e m e n t r a t h e r n a n
sympathy. Both concepts have an u n a m b i g u o u s l y o u t d a t e d s t a i n s
in the Weltanschauung of m o d e r n i t y . Especially i n t e l l e c t u a l m
definition in the vanguard of m o d e r n i t y , arc a b o u t as likely t o
admit to honour as to be found out as c h a s t e . At b e s t , h o n o u r anil
chastity are seen as ideological leftovers in the c o n s c i o u s n e s s u |
obsolete classes,such as military officers or ethnic g r a n d m o t h e r s .
The obsolescence of the concept of h o n o u r is revealed very
sharply in the inability of most c o n t e m p o r a r i e s t o u n d e r s t a n d
insult, which in essence is an assault o n h o n o u r . In t h i s , at least in
America, there is a close parallel b e t w e e n m o d e m c o n s c i o u s n e s s
and modern law. Motives of h o n o u r h a v e n o s t a n d i n g in A m e r i c a n
law and legal codes that still admit t h e m , as in s o m e c o u n t r i e s of
Southern Europe, are perceived as archaic. In m o d e r n c o n s c i o u s
ness, as in American law (shaped m o r e t h a n any o t h e r by that p r u n e
force of modernization which is capitalism), insult in itself is n o t
actionable, is not recognized as a real injury. T h e insulted p a r t y
must be able to prove material d a m a g e . T h e r e arc cases, n u k e d ,
where psychic harm may be the basis for a legal c l a i m , b u t t h a t t o o
3 r C f y r o m a n o o n O T
* ^ " offence against h o n o u r . T h e
Weltanschauung of everyday life closely c o n f o r m s in this t o the
legal definitions of reality. If a n individual is insulted a n d , as a
re
sult, is harmed in his career or his capacity t o e a r n a n i n c o m e , h e
may not only have recourse t o the c o u r t s b u t m a y c o u n t o n t h e
sympathy of his friends. His friends, a n d in s o m e cases the c o u r t s
The complete text of the above article has been previously printed i
0Umal S o d o i o x i 1 9 7 0
v3S>x! °^ ^' < ) ' PP- 3 3 9 - 4 7 . Reprinted wit
150 On the Obsolescence of the Concept of Honour
will come to his support if, say, the insult so unsettles him that he
loses his self-esteem o r has a nervous b r e a k d o w n . If, however,
neither kind of injury pertains, he will a l m o s t certainly be advised
by lawyers a n d friends alike t o just forget t h e w h o l e thing. In other
words, the reality of t h e offence will be denied. If the individual
persists in maintaining it, he will be negatively categorized, most
probably in psychiatric terms (as ' n e u r o t i c ' , 'overly sensitive', or the
like), or if applicable in terms that refer to cultural lag (as
'hopelessly E u r o p e a n ' , p e r h a p s , or as t h e victim of a 'provincial
mentality').
T h e c o n t e m p o r a r y denial of the reality of h o n o u r a n d of offences
against h o n o u r is so much p a r t of a taken-for-granted w o r l d that a
deliberate effort is required t o even see it a s a p r o b l e m . T h e effort is
w o r t h w h i l e , for it can result in s o m e , p e r h a p s u n e x p e c t e d , new-
insights into the structure of modern consciousness.
T h e problem of the obsolescence of the concept of h o n o u r can be
b r o u g h t into better focus by c o m p a r i n g it w i t h a m o s t timely
concept - that of dignity. T a k e n by itself, t h e demise of h o n o u r
might be interpreted as part of a process of m o r a l coarsening, of a
lessening of respect for persons, even of d e h u m a n i z a t i o n . Indeed,
this is exactly h o w it looked t o a conservative m i n d at t h e beginning
of the modern era - for e x a m p l e , t o the fifteenth-century French
poet Eustache D e s c h a m p s : ' A g e of decline nigh t o t h e end, / T i m e
of h o r r o r which does all things falsely, / Lying age, full of pride a n d
11
of envy, / Time without honour and without true judgement. Yet
it seems quite clear in retrospect t h a t this pessimistic estimate w a s ,
vo say the least, very one-sided. T h e age that s a w t h e decline of
h o n o u r also saw the rise of n e w moralities a n d of a n e w h u m a n i s m ,
and most specifically of a historically u n p r e c e d e n t e d concern for
the dignity a n d the rights of the individual. T h e same m o d e r n m e n
w h o fail to u n d e r s t a n d an issue of h o n o u r a r e immediately disposed
to concede the d e m a n d s for dignity a n d for equal rights by almost
every new group that m a k e s them - racial or religious minorities,
exploited classes, the p o o r , the deviant, a n d so o n . N o r w o u l d it be
just t o question the genuineness of this disposition. A little t h o u g h t ,
then, should make clear that t h e p r o b l e m is n o t clarified by ethical
pessimism. It is necessary to ask m o r e fundamentally: W h a t is
h o n o u r ? W h a t is dignity? W h a t can be learned a b o u t m o d e r n
consciousness by the obsolescence of t h e one a n d the u n i q u e sway
of the other?
Honour is c o m m o n l y u n d e r s t o o d as an aristocratic concept, or at
least associated with a hierarchical order of society. It is certainly
true that Western notions of honour have been strongly influenced
1 C1
Peter Berger
by the medieval codes of chivalry a n d t h a t these w e r e rootec1 in t h e
social structures of feudalism. It is also t r u e t h a t c o n c e p t s of h o n o u r
r a i m n
have survived into the m o d e r n era best in g r o u p s ^ ^
hierarchical view of society, s u c h as t h e n o b i l i t y , t h e m i l i t a r y , a n d
traditional professions like l a w a n d m e d i c i n e In such g r o u p s
honour is a direct express.on of s t a t u s , a s o u r c e of s o l i d a r i t y a m o n g
social equals and a d e m a r c a t i o n line a g a i n s t social i n t e r i o r s .
Honour, indeed, also dictates certain s t a n d a r d s of b e h a v i o u r in
dealing with inferiors, b u t t h e full c o d e of h o n o u r only a p p l i e s
among those w h o share the s a m e s t a t u s in t h e h i e r a r c h y . In a
hierarchically ordered society t h e e t i q u e t t e of e v e r y d a y life c o n s i s t s
of ongoing transactions of h o n o u r , a n d different g r o u p s relate
differently to this process a c c o r d i n g t o t h e p r i n c i p l e of ' T o e a c h his
due'. It would be a mistake, h o w e v e r , t o u n d e r s t a n d h o n o u r only in
terms of hierarchy and its d e l i n e a t i o n s . T o t a k e t h e m o s t o b v i o u s
example, the h o n o u r of w o m e n in m a n y t r a d i t i o n a l societies, w h i l e
usually differentiated a l o n g class lines, m a y p e r t a i n in p r i n c i p l e t o
women of all classes.
J. K. Campbell, in his s t u d y of c o n t e m p o r a r y r u r a l c u l t u r e in
2
Greece, makes this very clear. W h i l e t h e o b l i g a t i o n s of h o n o u r
[timi) differ as between different c a t e g o r i e s of i n d i v i d u a l s , n o t a b l y
between men and w o m e n , e v e r y o n e w i t h i n t h e c o m m u n i t y exists
within the same all-embracing system of h o n o u r . T h o s e w h o h a v e
high status in the c o m m u n i t y h a v e p a r t i c u l a r o b l i g a t i o n s of h o n o u r ,
but even the lowly are differentiated in t e r m s of h o n o u r a n d
dishonour. Men should e x h i b i t m a n l i n e s s a n d w o m e n s h a m e , b u t
the failure of either implies d i s h o n o u r for t h e i n d i v i d u a l , t h e family
and, in some cases, the entire c o m m u n i t y . F o r all, t h e q u a l i t i e s
enjoined by h o n o u r provide t h e link, n o t only b e t w e e n self a n d
community, but between self a n d t h e idealized n o r m s of t h e
community: ' H o n o u r c o n s i d e r e d as t h e p o s s e s s i o n by m e n a n d
women of these qualities is t h e a t t e m p t t o relate e x i s t e n c e t o c e r t a i n
3
archetypal patterns of b e h a v i o u r . ' C o n v e r s e l y , d i s h o n o u r is a fall
torn grace in the most c o m p r e h e n s i v e sense - loss of face in t h e
community, but also loss of self a n d s e p a r a t i o n f r o m t h e b a s i c
norms that govern h u m a n life.
t is valid to view such a c u l t u r e as essentially p r e - m o d e r n , just as
a U S U e
mod ^ to predict its d i s i n t e g r a t i o n u n d e r t h e i m p a c t of
ermZ 0n H i s t o r i c a
DrrK- Ti! * H y > t h e r e a r e several s t a g e s in t h e l a t t e r
a w f ' l? d e c l i n e o f
medieval c o d e s of h o n o u r d i d n o t l e a d
c o n t e
mea ^ \° m p o r a r y s i t u a t i o n in w h i c h h o n o u r is a n all b u t
C S S c o n c e t
of h ^ P - T h e r e t o o k p l a c e first t h e embourgeoisement
onour, which has been defined by N o r b e r t Elias as t h e p r o c e s s
4
of 'civilization', b o t h a b r o a d e n i n g a n d a m e l l o w i n g p r o c e s s . T h e
contents had changed, but there w a s still a c o n c e p t i o n of h o n o u r in
the age of the t r i u m p h a n t bourgeoisie. Yet it w a s with the rise of the
bourgeoisie, particularly in the consciousness of its critical intellec
tuals, that not only the h o n o u r of the ancien regime and its
hierarchical prototypes w a s d e b u n k e d , b u t t h a t an u n d e r s t a n d i n g
of m a n a n d society emerged that w o u l d eventually liquidate any
conception of h o n o u r .
T h u s Cervantes' Quixote is the tragi-comedy of a particular
obsolescence, t h a t of the knight-errant in an age in which chivalry
h a s become an empty rhetoric. T h e greatness of the Quixote,
however, transcends this particular t i m e - b o u n d d e b u n k i n g job. It
unmasks not only the ' m a d n e s s ' of chivalry b u t , by extension, the
folly of any identification of self w i t h ' a r c h e t y p a l p a t t e r n s of
behaviour'. Put differently, Don Q u i x o t e ' s ' e n c h a n t e r s ' (whose
task, paradoxically, is precisely w h a t M a x W e b e r h a d in m i n d as
'd/senchantment') c a n n o t be s t o p p e d so easily once they have
started their terrible task. As D o n Q u i x o t e tells S a n c h o in o n e of his
innumerable homilies:
Is it possible that in the time y o u h a v e been with me y o u have

not yet found out that all the adventures of a knight-errant
appear t o be illusion, follies, a n d d r e a m s , a n d t u r n o u t to be
the reverse? N o t because things are really so, b u t because in
o u r midst there is a h o s t of e n c h a n t e r s , forever changing,
disguising and transforming o u r affairs as they please, accord
ing to w h e t h e r they wish t o favor o r destroy us. So, w h a t y o u
call a b a r b e r ' s basin is t o me M a m b r i n o ' s helmet, a n d to
s
another person it will appear to be something else.
These 'enchanters', alas, have n o t stopped with chivalry. Every

h u m a n adventure, in which the self a n d its actions h a v e been
identified and e n d o w e d with the h o n o u r of collective p r o t o t y p e s
has, finally, been d e b u n k e d as 'illusion, follies, a n d d r e a m s ' .
M o d e r n man is D o n Q u i x o t e o n his d e a t h b e d , d e n u d e d of the
multicoloured b a n n e r s that previously enveloped the self a n d
revealed to be nothing but a man: T w a s m a d , b u t I a m n o w in my
senses; I was once D o n Q u i x o t e of La M a n c h a , b u t I a m n o w , as I
6
said before, Alonso Q u t x a n o the G o o d . ' T h e s a m e self, deprived
or, if one prefers, freed from the mystifications of h o n o u r is hailed
7
in Falstaff's 'catechism': ' H o n o u r is a mere s c u t c h e o n . ' It is
modern consciousness t h a t u n m a s k s it as such, t h a t , ' e n c h a n t s ' o r
'disenchants' it (depending o n one's p o i n t of view) until it is s h o w n
Peter Berger 1^3
as nothing but a painted artifact. B e h i n d the ' m e r e s c u t c h e o n ' is the
face of modern m a n - m a n bereft of the c o n s o l a t i o n of p r o t o t y p e s ,
man alone.
It is important to u n d e r s t a n d t h a t it is precisely this solitary self
that modern consciousness h a s perceived as the b e a r e r of h u m a n
dignity and of inalienable h u m a n rights. T h e m o d e r n discovery
of dignity took place precisely a m i d t h e w r e c k a g e of d e b u n k e d
conceptions of h o n o u r . N o w , it w o u l d be a m i s t a k e t o ascribe to
modern consciousness a l o n e the discovery of a f u n d a m e n t a l
dignity underlying all possible social disguises. T h e s a m e discovery
can be found in the H e b r e w Bible, as in the c o n f r o n t a t i o n b e t w e e n
Nathan a n d David ( T h o u a r t t h e m a n ' ) ; in S o p h o c l e s , in the
confrontation b e t w e e n A n t i g o n e a n d C r e o n ; a n d , in a different
form, in Mencius' p a r a b l e of a criminal s t o p p i n g a child from
falling into a well. T h e u n d e r s t a n d i n g t h a t t h e r e is a h u m a n i t y
behind or beneath the roles a n d the n o r m s i m p o s e d by society, a n d
that this h u m a n i t y h a s p r o f o u n d dignity, is n o t a m o d e r n p r e r o g a
tive. What is peculiarly m o d e r n is the m a n n e r in w h i c h the reality of
this intrinsic h u m a n i t y is related t o t h e realities of society.
Dignity, as against h o n o u r , a l w a y s relates t o t h e intrinsic
humanity divested of all socially i m p o s e d roles o r n o r m s . It p e r t a i n s
to the self as such, t o t h e individual regardless of his p o s i t i o n in
society. This becomes very clear in the classic f o r m u l a t i o n s of
human rights, from the P r e a m b l e t o the D e c l a r a t i o n of I n d e p e n d
ence to the Universal D e c l a r a t i o n of H u m a n Rights of the United
Nations. These rights a l w a y s p e r t a i n t o the individual 'irrespective
of race, colour or creed' - o r , i n d e e d , of sex, age, physical c o n d i t i o n
or any conceivable social s t a t u s . T h e r e is a n implicit sociology
and an implicit a n t h r o p o l o g y h e r e . T h e implicit sociology views all
biological and historical differentiations a m o n g m e n as either
downright unreal or essentially irrelevant. T h e implicit a n t h r o p o l
ogy locates the real self over a n d b e y o n d all these differentiations.
It should n o w be possible t o see these t w o c o n c e p t s s o m e w h a t m o r e

clearly. Both h o n o u r a n d dignity are c o n c e p t s t h a t b r i d g e self a n d
society. While either p e r t a i n s t o t h e individual in a very i n t i m a t e
w a
y , it is in relations w i t h o t h e r s t h a t b o t h h o n o u r a n d dignity
are attained, e x c h a n g e d , p r e s e r v e d or t h r e a t e n e d . B o t h r e q u i r e a
deliberate effort of the will for their m a i n t e n a n c e - o n e m u s t strive
|or them, often against t h e m a l e v o l e n t o p p o s i t i o n of o t h e r s - t h u s
nnnnii^ i j!_ - i , , . : TU„:_ Uoc
honour and dignity b e c o m e goals of m o r a l enterprise. T h e i r loss,
r
always a possibility, h a s far-reaching c o n s e q u e n c e s for t h e self,

finally, both h o n o u r a n d dignity h a v e a n infectious quality t h a t
extends b e y o n d t h e m o r a l p e r s o n of t h e individual possessing them.
T h e infection involves his b o d y ('a dignified gait'), his material
ambience (from clothing t o the furnishings of his house) and other
individuals closely associated w i t h h i m ('He b r o u g h t h o n o u r on his
w h o l e family'). W h a t , t h e n , is t h e difference between these two
concepts of t h e social self? O r , - s u b s t i t u t i n g a m o r e current term to
avoid t h e metaphysical associations of 'self, h o w d o these two
conceptions of identity differ?
The concept of honour implies that identity is essentially, or at
least importantly, linked to institutional roles. The modern concept
of dignity, by contrast, implies that identity is essentially indepen
dent of institutional roles. T o r e t u r n t o Falstaff's image, in a world
of h o n o u r t h e individual is t h e social s y m b o l s e m b l a z o n e d o n his
escutcheon. T h e true self of the k n i g h t is revealed as he rides out to
d o battle in t h e full regalia of his role; by c o m p a r i s o n , the naked
m a n in bed with a w o m a n represents a lesser reality of the self. In
a world of dignity, in t h e m o d e r n sense, t h e social symbolism
governing t h e interaction of men is a disguise. T h e escutcheons hide
the true self. It is precisely t h e n a k e d m a n , a n d even more
specifically the n a k e d m a n expressing his sexuality, w h o represents
himself m o r e truthfully. C o n s e q u e n t l y , t h e u n d e r s t a n d i n g of self-
discovery a n d self-mystification is reversed as between these t w o
worlds. In a w o r l d of h o n o u r , t h e individual discovers his true
identity in his roles, a n d t o t u r n a w a y from the roles is t o turn away
from himself - in 'false consciousness', o n e is t e m p t e d t o a d d . In a
w o r l d of dignity, t h e individual c a n only discover his true identity
by e m a n c i p a t i n g himself from his socially i m p o s e d roles - the latter
are only m a s k s , entangling h i m in illusion, 'alienation' a n d 'bad
faith'. It follows t h a t t h e t w o w o r l d s h a v e a different relation to
history. It is t h r o u g h t h e p e r f o r m a n c e of institutional roles that
the individual participates in history, n o t only t h e history of a
particular institution b u t t h a t of his society as a w h o l e . It is
precisely for this r e a s o n t h a t m o d e r n consciousness, in its concep
tion of t h e self, tends t o w a r d s a curious ahistoricity. In a world of
honour, identity is firmly linked t o t h e past t h r o u g h the reiterated
performance of prototypical acts. In a w o r l d of dignity, history is
the succession of mystifications from w h i c h t h e individual must free
himself to attain 'authenticity'.
0 801
,JL-! ifP " n
° t to lose sight h e r e of continuities in the
m a n f
MS™ IT ~ ° Anthropological c o n s t a n t s ' , if o n e prefers.
n a
rfiufZ 2 £ ? °l t 0 t a l
N a t i o n or a m u t a t i o n of t h e species
hTs
his intrinsic ?L25
i n t r i n s , csociality 3 n y V e s i
and/ the reciprocal process with society

° o n o f a r c h a i c m a n k n o w n t o U S b t h
Peter Berger ^5
through which his v a r i o u s identities are f o r m e d , m a i n t a i n e d and
changed. All the s a m e , w i t h i n the p a r a m e t e r s set by his fun
damental constitution, m a n h a s c o n s i d e r a b l e leeway in construc
ting, dismantling a n d r e a s s e m b l i n g the w o r l d s in w h i c h he lives.
Inasmuch as identity is a l w a y s p a r t of a c o m p r e h e n s i v e w o r l d , and
a humanly constructed w o r l d at t h a t , there are far-reaching
differences in the w a y s in w h i c h identity is conceived and,
consequently, experienced. Definitions of identity vary with overall
definitions of reality. E a c h such definition, h o w e v e r , has reality-
generating p o w e r : M e n n o t only define themselves, b u t they
actualize these definitions in real experience - they live them.
N o monocausal theory is likely t o d o justice t o the transform
ation that has t a k e n place. Very p r o b a b l y m o s t of the factors
commonly cited h a v e in fact p l a y e d a p a r t in the process -
technology a n d industrialization, b u r e a u c r a c y , u r b a n i z a t i o n and
population g r o w t h , the vast increase in c o m m u n i c a t i o n between
every conceivable h u m a n g r o u p , social mobility, the pluralization
of social w o r l d s a n d t h e p r o f o u n d m e t a m o r p h o s i s in the social
contexts in w h i c h children are r e a r e d . Be this as it m a y , the
resultant situation has been aptly characterized by Arnold Gehlen
with the t e r m s ' d e i n s t i t u t i o n a l i z a t i o n ' a n d 'subjectivization'. T h e
former term refers t o a global w e a k e n i n g in the holding p o w e r of
institutions over the individual. T h e institutional fabric, whose
basic function h a s a l w a y s been t o p r o v i d e m e a n i n g and stability for
the individual, has b e c o m e incohesive, fragmented and thus p r o
gressively deprived of plausibility. T h e institutions then confront
the individual as fluid a n d u n r e l i a b l e , in the e x t r e m e case as unreal.
Inevitably, the individual is t h r o w n b a c k u p o n himself, o n his o w n
subjectivity, from w h i c h h e m u s t d r e d g e u p the m e a n i n g a n d the
stability t h a t he requires t o exist. Precisely because of m a n ' s
intrinsic sociality, this is a very unsatisfactory condition. Stable
identities (and this also m e a n s identities t h a t will be subjectively
plausible) can only e m e r g e in reciprocity with stable social contexts
(and this m e a n s c o n t e x t s t h a t are s t r u c t u r e d by stable institutions).
Therefore, there is a d e e p u n c e r t a i n t y a b o u t c o n t e m p o r a r y identity.
Put differently, there is a built-in identity crisis in the c o n t e m p o r a r y
situation.
It is in this c o n n e c t i o n t h a t o n e begins t o u n d e r s t a n d the implicit
sociology a n d the implicit a n t h r o p o l o g y m e n t i o n e d above. Both are
rooted in actual experience of the m o d e r n w o r l d . T h e literary,
Philosophical a n d even social-scientific f o r m u l a t i o n s are ex post
facto a t t e m p t s t o c o m e to t e r m s w i t h this experience. Gehlen has
shown this convincingly for the rise of the m o d e r n novel as the
literary form most fully reflecting the new subjectivism. But the
conceptualizations of m a n a n d society of, for instance, M a r x i s m
and existentialism are equally rooted in this experience. So is the
perspective of m o d e r n social science, especially of sociology.
M a r x ' s 'alienation' and 'false consciousness', Heidegger's ' a u t h
enticity' a n d Sartre's 'bad faith', a n d such current sociological
notions as David Reisman's 'other-direction' o r Erving Goffman's
'impression m a n a g e m e n t ' could only arise and claim credibility in a
situation in which the identity-defining p o w e r of institutions has
been greatly w e a k e n e d .
T h e obsolescence of the concept of h o n o u r may n o w be seen in a
much m o r e comprehensive perspective. The social location of
h o n o u r lies in a w o r l d of relatively intact, stable institutions, a
world in which individuals can with subjective certainty attach
their identities t o the institutional roles t h a t society assigns t o them.
T h e disintegration of this world as a result of the forces of
modernity has not only m a d e h o n o u r an increasingly meaningless
notion, b u t has served as the occasion for a redefinition of identity
and its intrinsic dignity apart from a n d often against the institu
tional roles t h r o u g h which the individual expresses himself in
society. T h e reciprocity between individual and society, between
subjective identity a n d objective identification t h r o u g h roles, n o w
comes t o be experienced as a sort of struggle. Institutions cease t o
be the ' h o m e ' of the self; instead they become oppressive realities
that distort and estrange the self. Roles n o longer actualize the self,
but serve as a 'veil of mayd hiding the self n o t only from others but
from the individual's o w n consciousness. O n l y in the interstitial
areas left vacant, as it were, by the institutions (such as the so-called
private sphere of social life) can the individual h o p e to discover or
define himself. Identity ceases t o be an objectively and subjectively
given fact, a n d instead becomes the goal of an often devious a n d
difficult quest. M o d e r n m a n , almost inevitably it seems, is ever in
search of himself. If this is u n d e r s t o o d , it will also be clear w h y b o t h
the sense of 'alienation' and the c o n c o m i t a n t identity crisis are m o s t
vehement a m o n g the y o u n g today. Indeed, ' y o u t h ' itself, which is a
m a t t e r of social definition rather than biological fact, will be seen as
an interstitial area vacated or 'left over' by the large institutional
structures of m o d e r n society. For this reason it is, simultaneously,
the locale of the m o s t acute experiences of self-estrangement a n d of
the most intensive quest for reliable identities.
A lot will d e p e n d , naturally, o n o n e ' s basic assumptions a b o u t
m a n w h e t h e r o n e will b e m o a n or welcome these t r a n s f o r m a t i o n s .
W h a t to one will a p p e a r as a profound loss will be seen by a n o t h e r
Peter Berger 157
as the p r e l u d e to liberation. A m o n g intellectuals today, of course, it
is the latter viewpoint that prevails and that forms the implicit
anthropological f o u n d a t i o n for the generally 'left' m o o d of the
time. The t h r e a t of c h a o s , both social and psychic, whichever lurks
behind the disintegration of institutions, will then be seen as a
necessary stage t h a t m u s t precede the great 'leap into freedom' that
is to c o m e . It is also possible, in a conservative perspective, to view
the same process as precisely the r o o t pathology of the modern era,
as a disastrous loss of the very structures t h a t enable men to be
free a n d to be themselves. Such pessimism is expressed forcefully, if
s o m e w h a t petulantly, in Gehlen's latest b o o k , a conservative
manifesto in which modernity appears as an all-engulfing pesti
8
lence.
We w o u l d c o n t e n d here that both perspectives - the liberation
myth of the 'left' a n d the nostalgia of the 'right' for an intact world
- fail to d o justice t o the anthropological and indeed the ethical
dimensions of the p r o b l e m . It seems clear to us that the unre
strained e n t h u s i a s m for total liberation of the self from the
'repression' of institutions fails to take account of certain funda
mental r e q u i r e m e n t s of m a n , notably those of order — that
institutional o r d e r of society w i t h o u t which both collectivities and
individuals m u s t descend into dehumanizing chaos. In other words,
the demise of h o n o u r has been a very costly price to pay for
whatever liberations m o d e r n m a n may have achieved. O n the other
h a n d , the unqualified denunciation of the c o n t e m p o r a r y constella
tion of institutions a n d identities fails to perceive the vast moral
achievements m a d e possible by just this constellation - the dis
covery of the a u t o n o m o u s individual, with a dignity deriving from
his very being, over and above all and any social identifications.
A n y o n e d e n o u n c i n g the m o d e r n world tout court should pause and
question w h e t h e r h e wishes to include in t h a t denunciation the
specifically m o d e r n discoveries of h u m a n dignity and h u m a n rights.
T h e conviction t h a t even the weakest members of society have an
inherent right to protection and dignity; the proscription of slavery
in all its forms, of racial and ethnic oppression; the staggering
discovery of the dignity a n d rights of the child; the new sensitivity
to cruelty, from the a b h o r r e n c e of torture to the codification of the
crime of genocide - a sensitivity that has become politically
significant in the o u t r a g e against the cruelties of the w a r in
V i e t n a m ; the n e w recognition of individual responsibility for all
actions, even those assigned to the individual with specific institu
tional roles, a recognition t h a t attained the force of law at
N u r e m b e r g - all these, a n d others, are m o r a l achievements that
w o u l d be u n t h i n k a b l e w i t h o u t the peculiar constellations of the
m o d e r n w o r l d . T o reject t h e m is u n t h i n k a b l e ethically. By the same
token, it is n o t possible to simply trace t h e m to a false
anthropology.
T h e task before us, rather, is to u n d e r s t a n d the empirical
processes t h a t have made modern m a n lose sight of h o n o u r at the
expense of dignity — a n d then to think t h r o u g h b o t h the a n t h r o
pological a n d the ethical implications of this. Obviously these
remarks can do n o more than point u p some dimensions of the
problem. It m a y be allowed, t h o u g h , t o speculate t h a t a rediscovery
of h o n o u r in the future development of m o d e r n society is b o t h
empirically plausible and morally desirable. Needless t o say, this
will hardly take the form of a regressive restoration of traditional
codes. But the c o n t e m p o r a r y m o o d of anti-institutionalism is
9
unlikely to last, as Anton Zijderveld implies. M a n ' s fundamental
constitution is such that, just a b o u t inevitably, he will once m o r e
construct institutions t o provide a n ordered reality for himself. A
return t o institutions will ipso facto be a return to h o n o u r . It will
then be possible again for individuals t o identify themselves with
the escutcheons of their institutional roles, experienced n o w n o t as
self-estranging tyrannies b u t as freely chosen vehicles of self-
realization. T h e ethical question, of course, is w h a t these institu
tions will be like. Specifically, the ethical test of a n y future
institutions, a n d of the codes of h o n o u r they will entail, will be
whether they succeed in e m b o d y i n g a n d in stabilizing the dis
coveries of h u m a n dignity that are the principle achievements of
modern man.
NOTES
1
Cited in J. Huizinga, The Waning of the Middle Ages (New York:
Doubleday-Anchor, 1954), p. 33 (my italics).
2
J. K. Campbell, Honour, Family and Patronage (Oxford, 1964).
3
Ibid., pp. 271.
4
Norbert Elias, DerProzess der Zivilisation (Bern: Francke, 1969).
5
Cervantes, Don Quixote, trans. Walter Starkie (New York: New
American Library, 1964), 1:25, p. 243.
6
Ibid., n:74.
7
W. Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I, v:i.
8
Arnold Gehlen, Moral and Hypermoral (Frankfurt: Athenaum, 1969).
9
Anton Zijderveld, Abstract Society (New York: Doubleday, 1970).
8
Michael J. Sandel: Justice
and the Good*
THE STATUS O F THE GOOD
The difficulty with R a w l s ' theory of the good is epistemological

as well as m o r a l , a n d in this it recalls a problem that arose in
connection with the concept of right - that of distinguishing a
s t a n d a r d of assessment from the thing being assessed. If my
fundamental values a n d final ends are to enable me, as surely they
must, to evaluate a n d regulate my immediate wants and desires,
these values a n d ends m u s t have a sanction independent of the mere
fact that I h a p p e n to h o l d them with a certain intensity. But if my
conception of the g o o d is simply the p r o d u c t of my immediate
w a n t s a n d desires, there is n o reason to suppose that the critical
s t a n d p o i n t it provides is any more w o r t h y or valid than the desires
it seeks t o assess; as the p r o d u c t of those desires, it would be
governed by the same contingencies.
Rawls responds t o this difficulty in the case of the right by
seeking in justice as fairness an Archimedean point that 'is not at
the mercy, so to speak, of existing wants and interests' ( 1 9 7 1 ,
p . 2 6 1 ) . But as we have seen, R a w l s ' concept of right does not
extend t o private morality, n o r does any other instrument of
d e t a c h m e n t save the g o o d from thoroughgoing implication in the
agent's existing w a n t s and desires. 'Purely preferential choice' is
t h o r o u g h l y h e t e r o n o m o u s choice, and n o person's values or
conception of the g o o d can possibly reach beyond it. As Rawls
strikingly concedes, ' T h a t we have one conception of the good
rather t h a n a n o t h e r is n o t relevant from a moral standpoint. In
* © 1982 Cambridge University Press. Reprinted from Liberalism and the

Limits of Justice by Michael Sandel, by permission of the publishers.
160 Justice and the Good
acquiring it we are influenced by the same sort of contingencies that
lead us to rule o u t a knowledge of o u r sex and class' ( 1 9 7 5 , p. 537).
T h e limited scope for reflection o n Rawls' account, a n d the
problematic, even impoverished theory of the g o o d t h a t results
reveal the extent t o which deontological liberalism accepts an
essentially utilitarian account of the good, h o w e v e r its theory of
right may differ. This utilitarian b a c k g r o u n d first a p p e a r e d in o u r
'discussion of D w o r k i n ' s defence of affirmative a c t i o n ; once n o
individual rights were seen to be at stake, utilitarian considerations
automatically prevailed. Although D w o r k i n defends w h a t he calls
an 'anti-utilitarian concept of right', the scope of this right is strictly
(if elusively) circumscribed, such that ' t h e vast bulk of the l a w s that
diminish my liberty are justified on utilitarian g r o u n d s as being in
1
the general interest or for the general welfare' ( 1 9 7 7 , p . 2 6 9 ) .
T h e utilitarian b a c k g r o u n d to R a w l s ' conception most clearly
appears in his references to individual moral life. W h e r e justice
as fairness rejects utilitarianism as the basis of social, or public
morality, it has no a p p a r e n t argument with utilitarianism as the
basis of individual, or private morality, the Kantian notion of 'duty
to o n e s e l f to the contrary. Rawls describes the utilitarian a c c o u n t
of private morality, w i t h o u t discernible objection, as follows:
A person quite properly acts, at least w h e n others are n o t

affected, t o achieve his o w n greatest good, to advance his
rational ends as far as possible. . . . [T]he principle for an
individual is t o advance as far as possible his o w n welfare, his
o w n system of desires' ( 1 9 7 1 , p. 2 3 ) .
T o be sure there is one formal principle t h a t seems to provide

a general answer [to an individual's choice of life p l a n ] . This is
the principle t o a d o p t that plan which maximizes the expected
net balance of satisfaction ( 1 9 7 1 , p . 4 1 6 ) .
For Rawls, utilitarianism goes w r o n g not in conceiving the g o o d

as the satisfaction of arbitrarily-given desires undifferentiated as t o
w o r t h - for justice as fairness shares in this - b u t only in being
indifferent to the w a y these c o n s u m m a t i o n s are spread across
individuals. Its mistake as he sees it is to a d o p t 'for society as a
w h o l e the principle of rational choice for one m a n ' , to c o m b i n e 'the
desires of all persons into one coherent system of desire', a n d to
seek its overall satisfaction ( 1 9 7 1 , p p . 2 6 - 7 ) . In so doing, it 'fuses'
or 'conflates' all persons into one, it reduces social choice to
'essentially a question of efficient a d m i n i s t r a t i o n ' (as, p r e s u m a b l y ,
Michael J. Sandel 161
individual choice can properly be reduced), a n d so fails to take
seriously the distinction between persons ( 1 9 7 1 , p p . 27, 33).
Justice as fairness seeks to remedy these shortcomings by
emphasizing the distinction between persons and by insisting on the
separateness of those diverse 'systems of desires' that utilitarianism
conflates. But the g r o u n d s for R a w l s ' departure from utilitarianism
in this respect are n o t immediately apparent. Although he seems
firm in his view t h a t to each individual h u m a n being there
corresponds exactly o n e 'system of desires', he never says why this
must be so, or w h a t exactly a 'system of desires' consists in, or why
it is w r o n g to conflate t h e m . Is a 'system of desires' a set of desires
ordered in a certain w a y , arranged in a hierarchy of relative worth
or essential connection with the identity of the agent, or is it simply
a c o n c a t e n a t i o n of desires arbitrarily arrayed, distinguishable only
by their relative intensity and accidental location? If it is the second,
if a system of desires means nothing m o r e than an arbitrary
collection of desires accidentally embodied in some particular
h u m a n being, then it is unclear w h y the integrity of such a 'system'
should be taken so morally and metaphysically seriously. If desires
can properly be conflated within persons, w h y not between persons
as well?
If, on the other h a n d , w h a t makes a system of desires is a
hierarchical o r d e r i n g of qualitatively distinguishable desires, then it
w o u l d be n o m o r e justifiable to 'conflate' desires within a person
than between p e r s o n s , a n d w h a t is w r o n g with utilitarianism would
also be w r o n g , in this respect at least, with justice as fairness. The
tendency to conflate desires, whether within persons or between
them, w o u l d reflect the failure to order them, or to acknowledge the
qualitative distinctions between them. But this failure cuts across
the distinction between individual a n d social choice, for there is no
reason to s u p p o s e t h a t a 'system of desires' in this sense corres
p o n d s in all cases t o the empirically-individuated person. Com
munities of various sorts could count as distinct 'systems of desires'
in this sense, so long as they were identifiable in part by an order or
structure of shared values partly constitutive of a c o m m o n identity
or form of life. F r o m this point of view, the utilitarian failure to
take seriously the distinction between persons would appear a mere
s y m p t o m of its larger failure t o take seriously the qualitative
distinctions of w o r t h between different orders of desires, a failure
rooted in a n impoverished account of the good which justice as
fairness h a s been seen t o share.
For a deontological doctrine such as R a w l s ' it might be thought
that viewing the g o o d as wholly mired in contingency, despite its
implausibility generally, w o u l d have at least the redeeming
advantage of m a k i n g the primacy of right all the m o r e compelling.
If the good is n o t h i n g m o r e t h a n the indiscriminate satisfaction of
arbitrarily-given preferences, regardless of w o r t h , it is n o t difficult
to imagine t h a t the right (and for t h a t m a t t e r a g o o d m a n y other
sorts of claims) must outweigh it. But in fact the morally diminished
status of the g o o d must inevitably call into question the status of
justice as well. For once it is conceded t h a t o u r conceptions of the
good are morally arbitrary, it becomes difficult to see w h y the
highest of all (social) virtues should be the one t h a t enables us to
pursue these arbitrary conceptions 'as fully as circumstances
permit'.
THE MORAL EPISTEMOLOGY OF JUSTICE
O u r discussion of the g o o d thus brings us back to the question of

justice and the claim for its priority, a n d with this w e return t o the
circumstances of justice in the original position. H e r e , the distinct
ness or separateness of persons on which R a w l s insists as a
corrective to utilitarianism is installed as the key a s s u m p t i o n of
mutual disinterest, the n o t i o n that individuals t a k e no interest in
one another's interests ( 1 9 7 1 , p. 2 1 8 ) . W h e n first w e surveyed the
conditions in the original position, this assumption in particular
a n d the empiricist rendering of the circumstances of justice in
general seemed t o u n d e r m i n e the primacy of justice in various
ways. Where justice depended for its virtue o n the existence of
certain empirical pre-conditions, the virtue of justice was n o longer
absolute, as truth t o theories, but only conditional, as physical
courage to a w a r zone; it presupposed a rival virtue or set of virtues
of at least correlative status; it assumed in certain circumstances a
remedial d i m e n s i o n ; " finally, where inappropriately displayed,
justice appeared as a vice rather than a virtue. In s u m , a H u m e a n
account of the circumstances of justice — such as R a w l s explicitly
a d o p t s - seemed incompatible with the privileged status of justice
required by R a w l s and defended by K a n t only by recourse to a
moral metaphysic Rawls found unacceptable.
H u m e ' s o w n view of justice confirms its partiality, at least in so
far as it is derived from premises which H u m e a n d Rawls seem to
share. For H u m e , the circumstances of justice describe certain
unfortunate if u n a v o i d a b l e material a n d motivational conditions
of actual h u m a n societies, m o s t n o t a b l y m o d e r a t e scarcity and
'limited generosity'. Together, these circumstances d e m o n s t r a t e the
sense in which the arrival of justice signifies the absence ol certain
nobler but rarer virtues.
'If every m a n h a d a t e n d e r regard for another, or if nature
supplied a b u n d a n t l y all o u r w a n t s a n d desires . . . the jealousy of
interest, which justice supposes, could n o longer have place'; nor,
says H u m e , w o u l d t h e r e be a n y occasion for distinctions of
property a n d possession. 'Encrease to a sufficient degree the
benevolence of m e n , or the b o u n t y of n a t u r e , a n d you render justice
useless, by supplying its place with m u c h nobler virtues, a n d more
valuable blessings.' If m a t e r i a l scarcity were replaced with abund
ance, 'or if everyone h a d the s a m e affection and tender regard for
everyone as for himself; justice a n d injustice would be equally
u n k n o w n a m o n g m a n k i n d . ' A n d so, H u m e concludes, ' 'tis only
from the scanty provision n a t u r e has m a d e for his wants, that
justice derives its origin' ( 1 7 3 9 , p p . 4 9 4 - 5 ) .
For H u m e , justice c a n n o t be the first virtue of social institutions
(at least n o t in any categorical sense), and in some cases is doubt
fully a virtue at all. In t h e institution of the family, for example,
affections m a y be enlarged to such an extent that justice is scarcely
engaged, m u c h less as ' t h e first virtue'. And even in the wider
society, w h e r e generosity is m o r e limited and justice more exten
sively engaged, its virtue can only be accounted for against a
background of higher o r nobler virtues whose absence calls justice
into being. In so far as m u t u a l benevolence a n d enlarged affections
could be cultivated m o r e widely, the need for 'the cautious, jealous
virtue of justice' w o u l d diminish in p r o p o r t i o n , and mankind
would be the better for it. Were scarcity o r selfishness overcome
altogether, then 'justice, being totally useless . . . could never
possibly have place in the catalogue of virtue' (1777, p. 16), much
less the first place t o w h i c h Rawls w o u l d assign it.
But despite t h e parallel Rawls himself invites between H u m e ' s
account a n d his o w n , t h e a s s u m p t i o n of m u t u a l disinterest has a
different m e a n i n g for R a w l s . It does n o t imply that h u m a n beings
are typically governed by 'selfishness a n d confined generosity';
indeed it is n o t m e a n t as a claim a b o u t h u m a n motivations at all.
It is r a t h e r a claim a b o u t the subject of motivations. It assumes
interests of a self, n o t necessarily in a self, a subject of possession
individuated in a d v a n c e a n d given prior to its ends.
From this there follow i m p o r t a n t consequences for the status of
justice. N o longer is benevolence prior to justice and in some cases
able to s u p p l a n t it. Since for Rawls, the virtue of justice does not
presuppose egoistic m o t i v a t i o n s to begin with, it need not await the
fading of benevolence t o find its occasion, a n d even the full
flowering of 'enlarged affections' c a n n o t displace it. Justice ceases
t o be merely remedial w i t h respect t o the ' n o b l e r virtues', for its
virtue n o longer d e p e n d s o n their absence. T o the c o n t r a r y , where
persons are individuated in R a w l s ' sense, justice n o t only wins its
independence from prevailing sentiments a n d m o t i v a t i o n s , but
comes to s t a n d a b o v e t h e m as p r i m a r y . For given the n a t u r e of the
subject as Rawls conceives it, justice is n o t merely a sentiment or a
feeling like o t h e r , lesser virtues, b u t a b o v e all a f r a m e w o r k that
constrains these virtues a n d is 'regulative' with respect to them.
Therefore in o r d e r t o realize o u r n a t u r e w e h a v e n o alterna

tive b u t to plan t o preserve o u r sense of justice as governing
o u r other aims. This sentiment c a n n o t be fulfilled if it is
c o m p r o m i s e d a n d balanced against other ends as b u t o n e
desire a m o n g the rest. . . . T o the c o n t r a r y , h o w far w e
succeed in expressing o u r n a t u r e depends o n h o w consistently
we act from o u r sense of justice as finally regulative. W h a t we
c a n n o t d o is express o u r n a t u r e by following a plan that views
the sense of justice as b u t o n e desire t o be weighed against
others. For this sentiment reveals w h a t the person is, and to
c o m p r o m i s e it is n o t to achieve for the self free reign b u t to
give w a y t o t h e contingencies a n d accidents of the w o r l d
(1971, pp. 574-5).
W e have seen h o w the priority of justice, like the priority of the

self, derives in large p a r t from its freedom from the contingencies
a n d accidents of the w o r l d . This m u c h emerged in o u r discussion of
! right a n d t h e b o u n d s of t h e self. In the light of o u r discussion of the
good w e c a n n o w also see w h y o n R a w l s ' theory of t h e subject, such
virtues as benevolence a n d even love are n o t self-sufficient m o r a l
ideals b u t m u s t await justice for their completion.
Given the limited role for reflection o n R a w l s ' a c c o u n t , the
virtues of benevolence a n d love, as features of the g o o d , a r e forms
of sentiment rather t h a n insight, w a y s of feeling r a t h e r t h a n
k n o w i n g . Unlike personal or first-order sentiments a n d feelings,
w h o s e objects are given m o r e o r less directly t o my a w a r e n e s s ,
benevolence a n d love are desires w h o s e object is t h e g o o d of
I
a n o t h e r . But given the separateness of persons a n d the intractability
of the b o u n d s between them, the content of this g o o d (that is, the
g o o d I wish another) m u s t be largely o p a q u e t o m e . O n R a w l s '
view, love is blind, n o t for its intensity b u t rather for the opacity of
the good t h a t is the object of its concern. ' T h e r e a s o n w h y the
situation r e m a i n s o b s c u r e is t h a t love and benevolence are second-
order n o t i o n s : they seek to further the good of beloved individuals
that is already given' ( 1 9 7 1 , p. 191).
If arriving at one's o w n g o o d is primarily a matter of surveying
existing preferences a n d assessing their relative intensities, it is not
the sort of e n q u i r y in which another, even an intimate other, can
readily participate. O n l y the person himself can ' k n o w ' w h a t he
really w a n t s o r ' d e c i d e ' w h a t he m o s t prefers. 'Even when we take
up a n o t h e r ' s p o i n t of view a n d a t t e m p t to estimate what would be
to his a d v a n t a g e , we d o so as an adviser, so to speak' (1971,
p. 448), a n d given the limited cognitive access Rawls' conception
allows, a r a t h e r unprivileged adviser at that.
Although we m a y at times overcome the difficulty of knowing the
good of a beloved individual w h o s e interests we would advance, the
problem becomes hopelessly c o m p o u n d e d when we would extend
our love or benevolence to a plurality of persons whose interests
may conflict. For we could not h o p e to k n o w their respective goods
well e n o u g h t o sort t h e m o u t and assess their relative claims. Even if
benevolence could be as widely cultivated as H u m e in his hypoth
etical vision suggests, its virtue w o u l d still not be self-sufficient, for
it would r e m a i n unclear, w i t h o u t m o r e , w h a t the love of mankind
w o u l d enjoin, i t is quite pointless to say that one is to judge the
situation as benevolence dictates. This assumes that we are wrongly
swayed by self-concern. O u r p r o b l e m lies elsewhere. Benevolence is
at sea as long as its m a n y loves are in opposition in the persons of
its m a n y objects' ( 1 9 7 1 , p . 190). N o t surprisingly, the anchor this
benevolence requires is supplied by the virtue of justice; benevo
lence, even at its m o s t expansive, depends on justice for its
completion. 'A love of m a n k i n d t h a t wishes to preserve the
distinction of p e r s o n s , to recognize the separateness of life and
experience, will use the t w o principles of justice to determine its
l 9 7
aims w h e n the m a n y g o o d s it cherishes are in opposition' ( j'
P- 191). Even in the face of so noble a virtue as the love of mankind,
the primacy of justice prevails, although the love that remains is of
an oddly judicial spirit.
This love is guided by w h a t individuals themselves would

consent t o in a fair initial situation which gives them equal
representation as m o r a l persons ( 1 9 7 1 , p . 191).
T h u s w e see t h a t the a s s u m p t i o n of the mutual disinterested

ness of the parties does n o t prevent a reasonable interpreta-
166 justice and the Good
tion of benevolence a n d of the love of m a n k i n d within the
framework of justice as fairness [emphasis added] ( 1 9 7 1 ,
p . 192).
For Rawls, the consequences of t a k i n g seriously the distinction

between persons are n o t directly m o r a l b u t m o r e decisively
epistemological. W h a t the b o u n d s between persons confine is less
the reach of our sentiments - this they d o n o t prejudge - t h a n the
reach of o u r understanding, of our cognitive access to others. And
it is this epistemic deficit (which derives from the n a t u r e of the
subject) m o r e than any shortage of benevolence (which is in any
case variable a n d contingent) that requires justice for its remedy
a n d so accounts for its pre-eminence. W h e r e for H u m e , w e need
justice because we d o not love each other well e n o u g h , for Rawls
we need justice because we c a n n o t know each other well e n o u g h for
even love to serve alone.
But as our discussion of agency a n d reflection suggests, we are
neither as t r a n s p a r e n t to ourselves n o r as o p a q u e to others as
R a w l s ' m o r a l epistemology requires. If o u r agency is to consist in
something more than the exercise in 'efficient a d m i n i s t r a t i o n '
which R a w l s ' account implies, w e ^ m u s t be capable of a deeper
introspection t h a n a 'direct self-knowledge' of o u r i m m e d i a t e wants
a n d desires allows. But to be capable of a m o r e t h o r o u g h g o i n g
reflection, w e c a n n o t be wholly u n e n c u m b e r e d subjects of posses
sion, individuated in advance a n d given prior t o o u r ends, b u t must
be subjects constituted in part by o u r central aspirations and
a t t a c h m e n t s , always o p e n , indeed vulnerable, t o g r o w t h and
transformation in the light of revised self-understandings. And in so
' far as o u r constitutive self-understandings c o m p r e h e n d a wider
subject t h a n the individual alone, w h e t h e r a family or tribe or city
o r class o r nation or people, t o this extent they define a c o m m u n i t y
in the constitutive sense. And w h a t m a r k s such a c o m m u n i t y is not
merely a spirit of benevolence, or the prevalence of c o m m u n i t a r i a n
values, or even certain 'shared final e n d s ' alone, b u t a c o m m o n
vocabulary of discourse a n d a b a c k g r o u n d of implicit practices and
understandings within which the opacity of the participants is
reduced if never finally dissolved. In so far as justice depends for its
pre-eminence o n the separateness or boundedness of p e r s o n s in the
cognitive sense, its priority w o u l d diminish as t h a t opacity faded
a n d this c o m m u n i t y deepened.
JUSTICE AND COMMUNITY
Of any society it can a l w a y s be asked to w h a t extent it is just, or

'well-ordered' in R a w l s ' sense, a n d to w h a t extent it is a com
munity, a n d the a n s w e r can in neither case fully be given by
reference t o the sentiments a n d desires of the participants alone. As
Rawls observes, t o ask w h e t h e r a particular society is just is not
simply to ask w h e t h e r a large n u m b e r of its members happen to
have a m o n g their v a r i o u s desires the desire to act justly - although
this may be o n e feature of a just society - but whether the society is
itself a society of a certain kind, ordered in a certain way, such that
justice describes its 'basic s t r u c t u r e ' a n d not merely the dispositions
of persons w i t h i n the s t r u c t u r e . T h u s Rawls writes that although
we call the attitudes a n d dispositions of persons just and unjust,
for justice as fairness the ' p r i m a r y subject of justice is the basic
structure of society' ( 1 9 7 1 , p . 7). For a society to be just in this
strong sense, justice m u s t be constitutive of its framework and not
simply an a t t r i b u t e of certain of the participants' plans of life.
Similarly, to ask w h e t h e r a particular society is a community is
not simply t o ask w h e t h e r a large n u m b e r of its members happen to
have a m o n g their various desires the desire to associate with others
or to p r o m o t e c o m m u n i t a r i a n aims - although this may be one
feature of a c o m m u n i t y - b u t w h e t h e r the society is itself a society
of a certain k i n d , o r d e r e d in a certain way, such that community
describes its basic s t r u c t u r e and not merely the dispositions of
persons w i t h i n the s t r u c t u r e . For a society to be a community in this
strong sense, c o m m u n i t y m u s t be constitutive of the shared self-
understandings of the p a r t i c i p a n t s a n d embodied in their institu
tional a r r a n g e m e n t s , n o t simply an attribute of certain of the
participants' p l a n s of life.
Rawls m i g h t object t h a t a constitutive conception of community
such as this s h o u l d be rejected 'for reasons of clarity among others',
or on the g r o u n d s t h a t it supposes society to be 'an organic whole
with a life of its o w n distinct from and superior t o that of all its
members in their relations with o n e another' ( 1 9 7 1 , p . 264). But a
constitutive c o n c e p t i o n of c o m m u n i t y is n o m o r e metaphysically
Problematic t h a n a constitutive conception of justice such as Rawls
defends. F o r if this n o t i o n of c o m m u n i t y describes a framework ot
self-understandings t h a t is distinguishable from and in some sense
Prior to the sentiments a n d dispositions of individuals within the
framework, it is only in the same sense that justice as fairness
describes a 'basic s t r u c t u r e ' or framework that is likewise distm-
guishable from a n d prior to the sentiments a n d dispositions of
individuals within it.
If utilitarianism fails t o t a k e seriously o u r distinctness, justice as
fairness fails to take seriously our c o m m o n a l i t y . In regarding the
b o u n d s of the self as prior, fixed o n c e a n d for all, it relegates our
c o m m o n a l i t y t o a n aspect of the g o o d , a n d relegates the g o o d to a
mere contingency, a p r o d u c t of indiscriminate w a n t s a n d desires
' n o t relevant from a m o r a l s t a n d p o i n t ' . Given a conception of the
good t h a t is diminished in this way, the priority of right w o u l d seem
an unexceptionable claim indeed. But utilitarianism gave the good
a bad n a m e , and in a d o p t i n g it uncritically, justice as fairness wins
for deontology a false victory.
II
For justice to be the first virtue, certain things m u s t be true of us.

W e must be creatures of a certain kind, related t o h u m a n
circumstance in a certain way. W e m u s t stand at a certain distance
from o u r circumstance, w h e t h e r as t r a n s c e n d e n t a l subject in the
case of Kant, or as essentially u n e n c u m b e r e d subject of possession
in the case of R a w l s . Either w a y , w e must regard ourselves as
independent: independent from the interests a n d a t t a c h m e n t s we
m a y have at any m o m e n t , never identified by o u r aims b u t always
capable of standing back to survey a n d asssess a n d possibly to
revise them (Rawls, 1 9 7 9 , p . 7 ; 1 9 8 0 , p p . 5 4 4 - 5 ) .
DEONTOLOGY'S LIBERATING PROJECT
Bound up with the notion of an independent self is a vision of the

moral universe this self must inhabit. Unlike classical Greek and
medieval Christian conceptions, the universe of the deontological
ethic is a place devoid of inherent meaning, a w o r l d 'disenchanted'
in M a x W e b e r ' s phrase, a world w i t h o u t an objective m o r a l order.
Only in a universe empty of telos, such as seventeenth-century
2
science and philosophy affirmed, is it possible to conceive a subject
a p a r t from a n d prior t o its purposes a n d ends. O n l y a w o r l d
ungoverned by a purposive order leaves principles of justice o p e n to
h u m a n construction a n d conceptions of the g o o d t o individual
choice. In this the depth of opposition between deontological
liberalism and teleological world views most fully a p p e a r s .
W h e r e neither n a t u r e n o r cosmos supplies a meaningful o r d e r to
be grasped or a p p r e h e n d e d , it falls to h u m a n subjects to constitute
meaning o n their o w n . T h i s w o u l d explain the prominence of
contract theory from H o b b e s o n w a r d , and the corresponding
emphasis o n voluntarist as against cognitive ethics culminating in
Kant. W h a t can n o longer be found remains s o m e h o w to be
3
created. R a w l s describes his o w n view in this connection as a
version of K a n t i a n 'constructivism'.
The parties t o the original position d o not agree on w h a t the

moral facts a r e , as if t h e r e w e r e already such facts. It is not
that, being situated impartially, they have a clear and
undistorted view of a prior a n d independent moral order.
Rather (for constructivism), there is no such order, a n d
therefore n o such facts a p a r t from the procedure as a whole
[emphasis a d d e d ] ( 1 9 8 0 , p . 5 6 8 ) .
Similarly for K a n t , t h e m o r a l law is not a discovery of theoretical

reason but a deliverance of practical reason, the product of pure
will. 'The elementary practical concepts have as their foundation
the form of a p u r e will given in r e a s o n ' , and w h a t makes this will
authoritative is t h a t it legislates in a w o r l d w h e r e meaning has yet
to arrive. Practical reason finds its advantage over theoretical
reason precisely in this voluntarist faculty, in its capacity to
generate practical precepts directly, w i t h o u t recourse to cognition.
'Since in all precepts of the p u r e will it is only a question of the
determination of will', there is n o need for these precepts 'to wait
upon intuitions in o r d e r t o acquire a meaning. This occurs for the
noteworthy reason t h a t they themselves produce the reality of that
to which they refer' [emphasis added] ( 1 7 8 8 , p p . 6 7 - 8 ) .
It is i m p o r t a n t t o recall t h a t , on the deontological view, the
notion of a self b a r r e n of essential aims and attachments does not
imply that w e are beings wholly w i t h o u t p u r p o s e or incapable of
moral ties, b u t r a t h e r t h a t the values a n d relations we have are the
products of choice, the possessions of a self given prior to its ends.
It is similar with d e o n t o l o g y ' s universe. T h o u g h it rejects the
possibility of a n objective m o r a l o r d e r , this liberalism does not hold
that just a n y t h i n g goes. It affirms justice, not nihilism. The notion
of a universe e m p t y of intrinsic meaning does not, on the
deontological view, imply a w o r l d wholly ungoverned by regulative
Principles, b u t r a t h e r a m o r a l universe inhabited by subjects
capable of c o n s t i t u t i n g m e a n i n g o n their o w n - as agents of
construction in case of the right, as agents of choice in the case of
the good. Qua n o u m e n a l selves, or parties t o the original position,
we arrive at principles of justice; qua actual, individual selves, we
arrive at conceptions of the good. A n d the principles w e construct
as n o u m e n a l selves constrain (but d o n o t determine) the purposes
we choose as individual selves. This reflects the priority of the right
over the good.
T h e deontological universe and the independent self t h a t moves
within it, taken together, hold o u t a liberating vision. Freed from
the dictates of nature a n d the sanction of social roles, the
deontological subject is installed as sovereign, cast as the a u t h o r of
the only moral meanings there are. As i n h a b i t a n t s of a w o r l d
w i t h o u t telos, w e are free t o construct principles of justice
unconstrained by an order of value antecedently given. Although
the principles of justice are n o t strictly speaking a m a t t e r of choice,
the society they define ' c o m e s as close as a society can to being a
voluntary scheme' (1976, p. 13), for they arise from a pure will or act
of construction n o t answerable t o a prior m o r a l order. A n d as
independent selves, we are free to choose o u r p u r p o s e s a n d ends
unconstrained by such an order, o r by custom o r tradition or
inherited status. So long as they are n o t unjust, o u r conceptions of
the good carry weight, whatever they a r e , simply in virtue of o u r
having chosen t h e m . W e are 'self-originating sources of valid
claims' (Rawls, 1 9 8 0 , p. 5 4 3 ) .
N o w justice is the virtue t h a t e m b o d i e s d e o n t o l o g y ' s liberating
vision and allows it t o unfold. It embodies this vision by describing
those principles the sovereign subject is said t o construct while
situated prior to the constitution of all value. It allows the vision to
unfold in t h a t , e q u i p p e d with these principles, the just society
regulates each person's choice of e n d s in a w a y c o m p a t i b l e w i t h a
similar liberty for all. Citizens governed by justice are thus enabled
to realize deontology's liberating project - to exercise their capacity
as 'self-originating sources of valid claims' - as fully as circum
stances permit. So t h e primacy of justice at once expresses a n d
advances the liberating aspirations of t h e deontological w o r l d view
a n d conception of the self.
But the deontological vision is flawed, both within its o w n terms
and m o r e generally as an account of o u r moral experience. W i t h i n
its own terms, the deontological self, stripped of all possible
constitutive a t t a c h m e n t s , is less liberated than d i s e m p o w e r e d . As
we have seen, neither the right n o r the good admits of the
voluntarist derivation deontology requires. As agents of c o n s t r u c
tion we d o not really construct (Sandel, 1 9 8 2 , chapter 3) a n d as
agents of choice w e d o n o t really choose (Sandel, 1 9 8 2 , chapter 4 ) .
W h a t goes on behind the veil of ignorance is n o t a c o n t r a c t or
an agreement b u t if a n y t h i n g a kind of discovery; a n d w h a t goes on
1
in 'purely preferential c h o i c e is less a c h o o s i n g of ends t h a n a
matching of pre-existing desires, undifferentiated as to w o r t h , with
the best available m e a n s of satisfying t h e m . For the parties to the
original position, as for the parties to o r d i n a r y deliberative
rationality, the liberating m o m e n t fades before it arrives; the
sovereign subject is left at sea in the circumstances it w a s t h o u g h t t o
command.
The moral frailty of t h e d e o n t o l o g i c a l self also a p p e a r s at the
level of first-order principles. H e r e w e found t h a t the indepen
dent self, being essentially dispossessed, w a s t o o thin to be
capable of desert in the o r d i n a r y sense (Sandel, 1 9 8 2 , chapter 2).
For claims of desert p r e s u p p o s e thickly-constituted selves, beings
capable of possession in the constitutive sense, b u t the d e o n t o
logical self is wholly w i t h o u t possessions of this kind. Acknowledg
ing this lack, R a w l s w o u l d f o u n d entitlements on legitimate
expectations instead. If w e are i n c a p a b l e of desert, at least we
are entitled t h a t institutions h o n o u r the e x p e c t a t i o n s to which they
give rise.
But the difference principle requires m o r e . It begins with the
thought, congenial t o t h e d e o n t o l o g i c a l view, t h a t the assets I have
are only accidentally m i n e . But it e n d s by a s s u m i n g that these assets
are therefore c o m m o n assets and t h a t society h a s a prior claim on
the fruits of their exercise. This either d i s e m p o w e r s the deontologW
cal self or denies its i n d e p e n d e n c e . Either my prospects are left at
the mercy of institutions established for ' p r i o r a n d independent
social ends' {Liberalism and the Limits of Justice, p. 313), ends
which may or m a y n o t coincide w i t h my o w n , or I m u s t count
myself a m e m b e r of a c o m m u n i t y defined in p a r t by those ends, in
which case I cease t o be u n e n c u m b e r e d by constitutive attachments.
Either way, the difference principle c o n t r a d i c t s the liberating
aspiration of the d e o n t o l o g i c a l project. W e c a n n o t be. p e r s o n s for
whom justice is p r i m a r y a n d also be p e r s o n s for w h o m the
difference principle is a principle of justice.
CHARACTER, SELF-KNOWLEDGE, AND FRIENDSHIP
If the deontological ethic fails t o r e d e e m its o w n liberating promise,

" also fails plausibly t o a c c o u n t for certain indispensable aspects of
° u r moral experience. F o r d e o n t o l o g y KSststEat w e view ourselves
as independent selves, i n d e p e n d e n t in the sense t h a t o u r identity is
never tied t o o u r aims a n d a t t a c h m e n t s . Given o u r 'moral p o w e r to
lorm, to revise, a n d rationally t o p u r s u e a conception of the good
(Rawls, 1 9 8 0 , p . 5 4 4 ) , the continuity of o u r identity is u n p r o b l e m a -
tically assured. N o transformation of m y aims a n d a t t a c h m e n t s
could call into question the person I a m , for n o such allegiances,
h o w e v e r deeply held, could possibly engage my identity to begin
with.
But w e c a n n o t regard ourselves as i n d e p e n d e n t in this way
w i t h o u t great cost to those loyalties a n d convictions w h o s e moral
force consists partly in the fact that living by t h e m is inseparable
from u n d e r s t a n d i n g ourselves as the particular persons w e are -
as m e m b e r s of this family o r c o m m u n i t y o r nation or people, as
bearers of this history, as sons a n d daughters of that revolution, as
citizens of this republic. Allegiances such as these are more than
values I h a p p e n t o have or aims I 'espouse at any given time'. They
go beyond the obligations 1 voluntarily incur a n d the 'natural
duties' I o w e t o h u m a n beings as such. They allow t h a t t o s o m e I
o w e m o r e t h a n justice requires or even permits, n o t by reason of
agreements I have m a d e b u t instead in virtue of those m o r e o r less
e n d u r i n g a t t a c h m e n t s a n d c o m m i t m e n t s which taken together
partly define the person I am.
T o imagine a person incapable of constitutive a t t a c h m e n t s such
as these is n o t t o conceive an ideally free and rational agent, b u t to
imagine ajperson wholly w i t h o u t character, w i t h o u t m o r a l depth.
For to have characterTs to k n o w t h a t I move in a history I neither
s u m m o n n o r c o m m a n d , which carries consequences n o n e the less
for m y choices a n d conduct. It d r a w s m e closer to some and m o r e
distant from others; it m a k e s some aims m o r e a p p r o p r i a t e , others
less so. As a self-interpreting.being, I a m able to reflect o n my
history and in this sense to distance myself from it, b u t the distance
is always precarious a n d provisional, the p o i n t of reflection never
finally secured outside the history itself. A person with character
thus k n o w s t h a t h e is implicated in v a r i o u s ways even as he reflects,
a n d feels the m o r a l weight of w h a t h e k n o w s .
This makes a difference for agency and self-knowledge. For, as
w e have seen, the deontological self, being wholly w i t h o u t charac
ter, is incapable of self-knowledge in any morally serious sense.
W h e r e the self is u n e n c u m b e r e d a n d essentially dispossessed, n o
person is left for sef/'-reflection t o reflect u p o n . This is w h y , o n the
deontological view, deliberation a b o u t ends can only be an exercise
in arbitrariness. In the absence of constitutive a t t a c h m e n t s ,
deliberation issues in 'purely preferential choice', which m e a n s the
ends w e seek, being mired in contingency, ' a r e n o t relevant from a
m o r a l s t a n d p o i n t ' (Rawls, 1 9 7 5 , p . 5 3 7 ) .
W h e n I act o u t of m o r e o r less e n d u r i n g qualities of character, by
contrast, my choice of ends is n o t arbitrary in the same way. In
consulting my preferences, I have n o t only to weigh their intensity
but also to assess their suitability t o the person I (already) am. I ask,
as I deliberate, n o t only w h a t I really w a n t b u t w h o I really am,jind
this last question takes m e beyond an attention to my desires alone
to reflect o n m y identity itself. While the contours of my identity
will in s o m e ways be o p e n a n d subject to revision, they are not
wholly w i t h o u t shape. A n d the fact that they are not enables me to
discriminate a m o n g m y m o r e immediate wants and desires; some
n o w a p p e a r essential, others merely incidental to my defining
projects a n d c o m m i t m e n t s . Although there may be a certain
ultimate contingency in my having w o u n d u p the person I am —
only theology can say for sure — it makes a moral difference none
the less t h a t , being the person I a m , I affirm these ends rather than
those, t u r n this w a y r a t h e r than that. While the notion of
constitutive a t t a c h m e n t s m a y at first seem an obstacle to agency -
the self, n o w e n c u m b e r e d , is n o longer strictly prior — some relative
fixity of c h a r a c t e r a p p e a r s essential to prevent the lapse into
arbitrariness w h i c h the deontological self is unable to avoid.
T h e possibility of character in the constitutive sense is also
indispensable to a certain kind of friendship, a friendship marked
by m u t u a l insight as well as sentiment. By any account, friendship is
b o u n d u p with certain feelings. We like o u r friends; w e have
affection for t h e m , a n d wish them well. W e h o p e that their desires
find satisfaction, t h a t their plans meet with success, and we commit
ourselves in various w a y s to advancing their ends.
But for p e r s o n s p r e s u m e d incapable of constitutive attachments,
acts of friendship such as these face a powerful constraint. However
much I m i g h t h o p e for the g o o d of a friend a n d stand ready to
advance it, only the friend himself can k n o w w h a t that good is^ This
restricted access to t h e g o o d ofJ>thers follows from i f i e j i m i t e d
L
scope for self-reflection, which betrays in turn the thinness of the

deontological self to begin with. W h e r e deliberating about my good
m e a n s n o m o r e t h a n attending to w a n t s and desires given directly
t o my a w a r e n e s s , I m u s t d o it o n my o w n ; it neither requires nor
admits t h e participation of others. Every act of friendship thus
becomes parasitic o n a g o o d identifiable in advance. 'Benevolence
a n d love are second-order n o t i o n s : they seek to further the good of
beloved individuals t h a t is already given' (Rawls, 1 9 7 1 , p . 191).
Even the friendliest sentiments must await a m o m e n t of introspec
tion itself inaccessible t o friendship. T o expect more of any friend,
o r t o offer m o r e , can only be a p r e s u m p t i o n against the ultimate
privacy of self-knowledge.
For_persons e n c u m b e r e d in p a r t by a history they share with
o t h e r s , by contrast, k n o w i n g oneself is a m o r e complicated thing. It
is also a less strictly private thing. W h e r e seeking my g o o d is b o u n d
up~with expUifirig my identity and I n t e r p r e t i n g my life history, the
knowledge I seek is less t r a n s p a r e n t t o me a n d less o p a q u e to
others. Friendship becomes a w a y of k n o w i n g as well as liking.
Uncertain which p a t h t o t a k e , I consult a friend w h o k n o w s me
well, a n d together w e deliberate, offering and assessing by turns
competing descriptions of the person I a m , a n d of the alternatives I
face as they bear o n my identity. T o take seriously such deliberation
is to allow t h a t my friend m a y grasp s o m e t h i n g I have missed, m a y
offer a m o r e a d e q u a t e a c c o u n t of the w a y my identity is engaged in
the alternatives before me. T o a d o p t this n e w description is t o see
myself "In a n e w way; my old self-image n o w seems partial or
occluded, and I may say in retrospect t h a t my friend k n e w me better
t h a n I k n e w myself. T o deliberate w i t h friends is t o a d m i t this
possibility, which presupposes in t u r n a m o r e richly-constituted self
t h a n deontology allows. While there will of course r e m a i n times
w h e n friendship requires deference t o the self-image of a friend,
however flawed, this t o o requires insight; here the need t o defer
implies the ability to k n o w .
So to see ourselves as deontology w o u l d see us is t o deprive us
of those qualities of character, reflectiveness, a n d friendship t h a t
depend on the possibility of constitutive projects a n d a t t a c h m e n t s .
A n d t o see ourselves as given to c o m m i t m e n t s such as these is to
a d m i t a deeper c o m m o n a l i t y than benevolence describes, a com
monality of shared self-understanding as well as 'enlarged affec
tions'. As t h e i n d e p e n d e n t self finds its limits in those aims a n d
a t t a c h m e n t s from which it cannot stand apart, so justice finds its
limits In those Forms of c o m m u n i t y that engajge the identity as well
-
as the interests of the p a r t i c m a l i t s ^
T o all of this, deontology might finally reply with a concession
a n d a distinction: it is one thing to allow t h a t 'citizens in their
personal affairs . . . have a t t a c h m e n t s a n d loves t h a t they believe
they w o u l d n o t , o r could not, stand a p a r t from', t h a t they 'regard it
as u n t h i n k a b l e . . . to view themselves w i t h o u t certain religious a n d
philosophical convictions a n d c o m m i t m e n t s ' (Rawls, 1 9 8 0 ,
p . 5 4 5 ) . But with p u b l i c . life it is different. Therej^ n o loyalty or
allegiance could b e similarly essential to o u r sense of w h o we are.
Unlike our ties t o family a n d friends, n o devotion to city or n a t i o n ,
t o p a r t y o r cause, could possibly r u n deep enough to b e defining. By
contrast with o u r private identity, our 'public identity' as m o r a l
1
persons 'is n o t affected by changes over t i m e in o u r conceptions of
Michael ]. Sandel 175
the good (Rawls, 1 9 8 0 , p p . 5 4 4 - 5 ) . While we may be thickly-
constituted selves in private, we must be wholly unencumbered
selves in public, a n d it is there that the primacy of justice prevails.
But once we recall the special status of the deontological claim, it
is unclear w h a t the g r o u n d s for this distinction could be. It might
seem at first glance a psychological distinction; detachment conies
more easily in public life, where the ties we have are typically less
compelling; I can m o r e easily step back from, say, my partisan
allegiances t h a n certain personal loyalties and affections. But as we
have seen from the start, deontology's claim for the independence
of the self must be m o r e than a claim of psychology or sociology.
Otherwise, the primacy of justice w o u l d hang on the degree of
benevolence a n d fellow-feeling any particular society managed to
inspire. T h e independence of the self does not mean that I can, as a
psychological matter, s u m m o n in this or that circumstance the
d e t a c h m e n t required to stand outside my values and ends, rather
that I m u s t regard myself as the bearer of a self distinct from my
values a n d ends, w h a t e v e r they may be. It is above all an
epistemological claim, a n d has little t o d o with the relative intensity
of feeling associated w i t h public or private relations.
U n d e r s t o o d as a n epistemological claim, however, the deonto
logical conception of the self c a n n o t admit the distinction required.
Allowing constitutive possibilities where 'private' ends are at stake
w o u l d seem u n a v o i d a b l y to a l l o w j n least the possibility that
'public' ends could be constiTijt7v^sjyje}I Once the bounds of the
self are n o longer fixed, individuated in advance and given prior to
experience, t h e r e is n o saying in principle w h a t sorts of experiences
could shape o r reshape them, n o guarantee that only 'private' and
never ' p u b l i c ' events could conceivably be decisive.
N o t egoists b u t strangers, sometimes benevolent, m a k e for citizens

of the deontological republic; justice finds its occasion because we
c a n n o t k n o w each o t h e r , or o u r ends, well enough to govern by the
c o m m o n g o o d alone. This condition is not likely to fade altogether,
a n d so long as it does not, justice will be necessary. But neither is it
g u a r a n t e e d always t o p r e d o m i n a t e , and in so far as it does not,
c o m m u n i t y will be possible, a n d an unsettling presence for justice.
Liberalism teaches respect for the distance of self and ends, and
when this distance is lost, w e are submerged in a circumstance that
ceases t o be o u r s . But by seeking to secure this distance too
completely, liberalism u n d e r m i n e s its o w n insight. Bj^putting the
self beyond the r e a c h of politics, it makes h u m a n agency an article
of faith r a t h e r t h a n a n object of continuing attention and concern, a
premise of politics r a t h e r t h a n its p r e c a r i o u s achievement. This
misses the p a t h o s of politics a n d also its m o s t inspiring possibilities.
It overlooks the d a n g e r t h a t w h e n politics goes badly, not only
d i s a p p o i n t m e n t s but also dislocations are likely t o result. And it
forgets the possibility t h a t w h e n politics goes well, we can know a
g o o d in c o m m o n that we c a n n o t k n o w a l o n e .
NOTES
For a compelling critique of Dworkin's view in this respect, see H. L. A.
Hart (1979, pp. 86-9).
For discussion of the moral, political, and epistemological consequences
of the seventeenth-century scientific revolution and world-view, see
Strauss, 1953; Arendt, 1958, pp. 2 4 8 - 3 2 5 ; Wolin, 1960, pp. 239-85;
and Taylor, 1975, pp. 3-50.
As one liberal writer boldly asserts, 'The hard truth is this: There is no
moral meaning hidden in the bowels of the universe. . . . Yet there is no
need to be overwhelmed by the void. We may create our own meanings,
you and I' (Ackerman, 1980, p. 368). Oddly enough, he insists none
the less that liberalism is committed to no particular metaphysic or
epistemology, nor any 'Big Questions of a highly controversial character'
(pp. 356-7,361).
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Ackerman, B.A. 1980. Social Justice in the Liberal State, New Haven.
Arendt, H. 1958. The Human Condition, Chicago.
Dworkin, R. 1977. Taking Rights Seriously, London.
Hart, H.L.A. 1979. Between utility and rights. In The Idea of Freedom,
ed. A. Ryan, pp.77-98. Oxford.
Hume, D. 1739. A Treatise of Human Nature, 2nd edn, ed. L. A. Selby-
Bigge, 1978. Oxford.
Hume, D. 1777. An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, 1966
edn, La Salle, Illinois.
Kant, I. 1788. Critique of Practical Reason, translated by L. W. Beck,
1956. Indianapolis.
Rawls, J. 1971. A Theory of Justice, Oxford.
Rawls, J. 1975. Fairness to goodness, Philosophical Review, 84,
pp.536-54.
Rawls, J. 1979. A well-ordered society. In Philosophy, Politics, and
Society, 5th series, eds P. Laslett and J. Fishkin, p p . 6 - 2 0 . Oxford.
Rawls, J. 1980. Kantian constructivism in moral theory, Journal of
Philosophy, 77, pp.5 I S - 7 2 .
Sandel, M. 1982. Liberalism and the Limits of Justice, Cambridge.
Strauss, L. 1953. Natural Right and History, Chicago.
Taylor, C. 1975. Hegel, Cambridge.
Wolin, S. 1960. Politics and Vision, Boston.
Charles Taylor: Hegel: History
and Politics*
. • . Kant's m o r a l theory remained at the edges of politics, as it were,

setting limits b e y o n d w h i c h states o r individuals should not tread.
For Hegel, in c o n t r a s t , morality can only receive a concrete content
in politics, in the design of the society we have to further and
sustain.
This set of obligations which we have to further and sustain a
society f o u n d e d o n t h e Idea is w h a t Hegel calls 'Sittlichkeif. This
has been variously translated in English, as 'ethical life', 'objective
ethics', 'concrete ethics', b u t n o translation can capture the sense of
this term of a r t , and I p r o p o s e t o use the original here. 'Sittlichkeif
is the usual G e r m a n t e r m for 'ethics', with the same kind of
etymological origin, in t h e term 'Sitten' which we might translate
'customs'. But Hegel gives it a special sense, in contrast to
'Moralitat' (which of course has a parallel etymological origin in
' m o r e s ' , a l t h o u g h being Latin it w o u l d not be so evident to German
readers).
'Sittlichkeif refers t o t h e moral obligations I have to an ongoing
c o m m u n i t y of w h i c h I a m part. These obligations are based on
established n o r m s a n d uses, a n d t h a t is why the etymological root
1
in 'Sitten' is i m p o r t a n t for Hegel's u s e . The crucial characteristic of
Sittlicbkeit is t h a t it enjoins us t o bring a b o u t w h a t already is. This
is a p a r a d o x i c a l w a y of p u t t i n g it, but in fact the common life which
is the basis of m y sittlich obligation is already there in existence.
It is in virtue of its being an ongoing affair that I have these
obligations; a n d m y fulfilment of these obligations is what sustains
* © 1975 Cambridge University Press. Reprinted from Hegel by Charles

T a y l o r © 1975, by permission of the publisher.
178 Hegel: History and Politics
it and keeps it in being. H e n c e in Sittlichkeit, there is n o gap
between w h a t o u g h t t o be and w h a t is, between Sollen a n d Sein.
With Moralitdt, the opposite holds. H e r e we h a v e an obligation
to realize something which does n o t exist. W h a t o u g h t t o be
contrasts with w h a t is. And connected with this, the obligation
holds of me n o t in virtue of being p a r t of a larger c o m m u n i t y life,
but as an individual rational will.
Hegel's critique of Kant can then be p u t in this w a y : Kant
identifies ethical obligation with Moralitdt' and c a n n o t get beyond
this. For he presents an abstract, formal n o t i o n of m o r a l obligation,
which holds of m a n as an individual, and which being defined in
contrast t o n a t u r e is in endless opposition to w h a t is.
W e can see h o w all of Hegel's reproaches against K a n t ' s moral
philosophy are systematically connected. Because it remained with
a purely formal notion of reason, it could not provide a content to
moral obligation. Because it w o u l d not accept the only valid
content, which comes from an o n g o i n g society to w h i c h w e belong,
it remained an ethic of the individual. Because it shied a w a y from
t h a t larger life of which we are a p a r t , it s a w the right as forever
o p p o s e d to the real; morality and n a t u r e are always at loggerheads.
The doctrine of Sittlichkeit is that morality reaches its completion
in a c o m m u n i t y . This both give obligation its definitive content, as
well as realizing it, so that the gap between Sollen a n d Sein is m a d e
u p . Hegel started off as we saw, following Kant in distinguishing
will and freedom from n a t u r e . But the fulfilment of freedom is
w h e n n a t u r e (here society, which started in a r a w , primitive form) is
m a d e over to the d e m a n d s of reason.
Because the realization of the Idea requires t h a t m a n be p a r t of a
larger life in a society, m o r a l life reaches its highest realization in
Sittlichkeit. This highest realization is an achievement, of course, it
is not present t h r o u g h o u t history, and there are even periods where
public life has been so emptied of spirit, that Moralitdt expresses
something higher. But the fulfilment of morality comes in a realized
Sittlichkeit.
This is the point where Hegel runs counter to the moral instinct
of liberalism then a n d n o w . Between obligations w h i c h are founded
o n o u r m e m b e r s h i p of some c o m m u n i t y a n d those which are n o t so
contingent we tend to think of the latter as transcending the former,
as the truly universal m o r a l obligations. Hegel's reversal of the
o r d e r a n d his exalted view of political society is w h a t has inspired
accusations of 'Prussianism', state-worship, even proto-Fascism.
W e can see already h o w wide of the m a r k these are. W e t e n d to
think of Moralitdt as more fundamental because w e see the moral
Charles Taylor 179
man as being ever in d a n g e r of being asked by his c o m m u n i t y t o d o
the unconscionable. A n d particularly so in an age of nationalism.
We are p r o b a b l y right in feeling this in o u r age, b u t it was not w h a t
Hegel foresaw. T h e c o m m u n i t y w h i c h is the locus of o u r fullest
moral life is a state w h i c h c o m e s close to a t r u e e m b o d i m e n t of the
Idea. Hegel t h o u g h t t h a t the states of his day w e r e building t o w a r d s
that. He was w r o n g , a n d w e shall discuss this m o r e later on. But it
is ludicrous t o a t t r i b u t e a view like ' m y g o v e r n m e n t right or w r o n g '
to Hegel, or to t h i n k t h a t he w o u l d have a p p r o v e d the kind of blind
following of orders of G e r m a n soldiers a n d functionaries u n d e r the
Third Reich, which w a s a t i m e if ever t h e r e w a s o n e when Moralitat
had the higher claim.
We should n o t forget t h a t t w o of Hegel's ' h e r o e s ' , i.e. pivotal
figures, in history are Socrates a n d Jesus, b o t h of w h o m under
mined or b r o k e with the Sittlichkeit of their people, and struck off
on their o w n . Hegel's p o i n t is, h o w e v e r , t h a t m a n ' s (and Geist's)
true realization c a n n o t c o m e like this. N o m a t t e r w h a t great
spiritual t r u t h s a m a n discovered, they could n o t be m a d e real, i.e.
embodied, if he r e m a i n s o n his o w n . As an individual he depends o n
his society in a h o s t of w a y s , a n d if it is unregenerate, then he
cannot realize the g o o d . If he d o e s n o t w a n t t o c o m p r o m i s e his
truth and c o r r u p t his message, then he m u s t either w i t h d r a w ,
and/or offer a challenge t o his society which will earn him the fate
of Christ or Socrates.
Full realization of freedom requires a society for the Aristotelian
reason t h a t a society is t h e m i n i m u m self-sufficient h u m a n reality.
In putting Sittlichkeit at the a p e x , Hegel is - consciously - fol
lowing Aristotle. A n d in following Aristotle, the ancient Greek
world. For the last t i m e t h a t the w o r l d s a w an effortless and
undivided Sittlichkeit w a s a m o n g the Greeks. Hegel's notion of
Sittlichkeit is in p a r t a r e n d e r i n g of t h a t expressive unity which his
whole generation saw in the Greek polis, w h e r e - it was believed -
men h a d seen the collective life of their city as the essence and
meaning of their o w n lives, h a d s o u g h t their glory in its public life,
their r e w a r d s in p o w e r a n d r e p u t a t i o n within it, a n d immortality in
its m e m o r y . It w a s his expression for t h a t vertu which Montesquieu
h a d seen as the m a i n s p r i n g of republics. In c o m m o n with his
generation he recognized t h a t this Sittlichkeit w a s lost forever in its
original form, b u t a l o n g with m a n y of his contemporaries he
aspired to see it r e b o r n in a n e w w a y .
The idea t h a t o u r highest a n d m o s t complete m o r a l existence is o n e

we can only a t t a i n to as m e m b e r s of a c o m m u n i t y obviously takes
us beyond the contract theory of m o d e r n n a t u r a l law, or the
utilitarian conception of society as an i n s t r u m e n t of the general
happiness. For these societies are n o t the focus of independent
obligations, let alone the highest claims w h i c h can be m a d e on us.
Their existence simply gives a particular shape t o pre-existing
m o r a l obligations, e.g. the keeping of p r o m i s e s , o r the furtherance
of the greatest happiness of the greatest n u m b e r . T h e doctrine
which p u t s Sittlichkeit at the apex of m o r a l life requires a notion of
society as a larger c o m m u n i t y life, to recall the expression used
above, in which m a n participates as a m e m b e r .
N o w this n o t i o n displaces the centre of gravity, as it were,
from the individual on to the c o m m u n i t y , which is seen as the locus
of a life or subjectivity, of which the individuals are phases. The
c o m m u n i t y is an e m b o d i m e n t of Geist, a n d a fuller, more
substantial e m b o d i m e n t t h a n the individual. This idea of a subjec
tive life b e y o n d the individual has been the source of much
resistance t o Hegel's philosophy. For it has seemed t o the c o m m o n
sense at least of the Anglo-Saxon w o r l d ( n u r t u r e d by a certain
philosophical tradition) as b o t h wildly e x t r a v a g a n t in a speculative
sense, a n d morally very d a n g e r o u s in its ' P r u s s i a n ' or even 'Fascist
consequences, sacrificing the individual a n d his freedom o n the
altar of some 'higher' c o m m u n a l deity. Before going further,
therefore, we should e x a m i n e this n o t i o n of the society a n d the
relation of individuals t o it. W e shall see, indeed, t h a t Hegel's
n o t i o n of objective Geist is n o t w i t h o u t difficulty; b u t the extrava
gance is not w h e r e the atomistic mentality of the empiricist w o r l d
t h o u g h t it w a s .
Hegel uses a n u m b e r of terms t o characterize this relation of m a n
to the c o m m u n i t y .
O n e of the most c o m m o n is ' s u b s t a n c e ' . T h e state, or the people
is the 'substance' of individuals. This idea is clearly expressed in the
Encyclopaedia.
T h e substance which k n o w s itself free, in which absolute

'Ought' is equally well being, has reality as the spirit of a
people. T h e abstract diremption of this spirit is the individua
tion into persons, of w h o s e i n d e p e n d e n t existence spirit is
the inner p o w e r and necessity. But the person as thinking
intelligence k n o w s this substance as his o w n essence - in this
conviction [Gesinnung] h e ceases to be a mere accident of it -
rather he looks o n it a t his absolute a n d final goal existing in
reality, as s o m e t h i n g which is attained in the here and now,
Charles Taylor 181
while at the same t i m e h e brings it about through his activity^

but as something w h i c h in fact simply is. (EG, §514)'
We can notice here at t h e e n d a reference t o t h a t basic feature of

Sittlichkeit, that it provides a goal w h i c h is at t h e s a m e t i m e already
realized, which is b r o u g h t a b o u t , a n d yet is. But w h a t is w o r t h
noticing here is the set of related c o n c e p t s w h i c h help t o e x p l a i n
'substance'. T h e c o m m u n i t y , says H e g e l , is also 'essence', a n d also
'final goal' for the individuals.
The notion b e h i n d ' s u b s t a n c e ' a n d 'essence' is t h a t the indi
viduals only are w h a t they are by their i n h e r e n c e in the c o m m u n i t y .
This idea is put in a p a s s a g e of V G . ' E v e r y t h i n g t h a t m a n is h e o w e s
to the state; only in it can he find his essence. All value t h a t a m a n
has, all spiritual reality, h e h a s only t h r o u g h t h e s t a t e ' ( V G , 1 1 1 ) .
Or more directly 'the individual is a n individual in this s u b s t a n c e .
• • • N o individual can step b e y o n d [it]; he can s e p a r a t e himself
certainly from o t h e r p a r t i c u l a r individuals, b u t n o t from the
Volksgeisf ( V G , 5 9 - 6 0 ) .
The notion b e h i n d 'final g o a l ' [Endzweck] seems to b e m o r e

sinister, for it seems to imply t h a t individuals only exist t o serve the
state as some pitiless M o l o c h . T h i s seems even m o r e clearly t o be
the message of P R , $25S, 'this s u b s t a n t i a l u n i t y is an a b s o l u t e
unmoved end in itself, in w h i c h freedom c o m e s into its s u p r e m e
right. On the other h a n d this final e n d h a s s u p r e m e right a g a i n s t the
individual, w h o s e s u p r e m e d u t y is t o be a m e m b e r of the s t a t e . ' But
this reading is based o n a serious m i s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n . Hegel denies
that the state exists for the individuals, in o t h e r w o r d s h e rejects
the Enlightenment utilitarian idea t h a t the state has only an
instrumental function, t h a t the e n d s it m u s t serve are those of
individuals. But he c a n n o t really accept the inverse p r o p o s i t i o n .
The state is n o t t h e r e for the s a k e of the citizens; o n e c o u l d

say, it is the goal a n d they are its i n s t r u m e n t s . But this relation
of ends a n d m e a n s is q u i t e i n a p p r o p r i a t e h e r e . F o r t h e s t a t e is
not something a b s t r a c t , s t a n d i n g over a g a i n s t t h e citizens; b u t
rather they are m o m e n t s as in o r g a n i c life, w h e r e n o m e m b e r
is end a n d n o n e m e a n s . . . . T h e essence of t h e state is ethical
life [die sittliche Lebendigkeit] [VG, 1 1 2 ) .
Rather we see here t h a t t h e n o t i o n of e n d s a n d m e a n s gives w a y t o

the image of a living being. T h e state or the c o m m u n i t y has a higher
4
nte; its parts are related as the p a r t s of a n o r g a n i s m . T h u s the
individual is n o t serving a n e n d s e p a r a t e from h i m , rather he is
serving a large goal w h i c h is t h e g r o u n d of his identity, for he only
is the individual h e is in this larger life. W e h a v e g o n e beyond the
opposition self-goal/other-goal.
Hegel a d d s t o this n o t i o n of t h e c o m m u n i t y as living t h a t of the
c o m m u n i t y as 'self-consciousness'. A n d it is this, together with the
use of the w o r d s 'Geist', 'Volksgeist' which h a s given rise to
the idea that t h e Hegelian state o r c o m m u n i t y is a super-individual.
But in the passage of VG w h e r e he i n t r o d u c e s t h e terms 'self-
consciousness', Hegel m a k e s clear t h a t he is n o t talking a b o u t it in
connection with Volksgeister in t h e sense t h a t it applies to
individuals. R a t h e r it is a 'philosophical c o n c e p t ' (VG, 61). Like
any Geist larger t h a n t h e individual it only h a s existence t h r o u g h
5
the vehicle of individual concrete subjects. It is t h u s n o t a subject
like them.
But w h y does Hegel w a n t to speak of a spirit which is larger than
the individual? W h a t does it mean t o say that t h e individual is part
of, inheres in, a larger life; a n d t h a t h e is only w h a t he is by
doing so?
These ideas only a p p e a r mysterious because of t h e powerful hold
o n us of atomistic prejudices, which h a v e been very i m p o r t a n t in
m o d e r n political t h o u g h t a n d culture. W e c a n think t h a t the
individual is w h a t he is in abstraction from his c o m m u n i t y only if
we a r e thinking of h i m qua organism. But w h e n w e think of a
h u m a n being, w e d o n o t simply m e a n a living o r g a n i s m , b u t a being
w h o can think, feel, decide, be moved, r e s p o n d , enter into relations
with others; a n d all this implies a language, a related set of w a y s of
experiencing t h e w o r l d , of interpreting his feelings, u n d e r s t a n d i n g
his relation t o o t h e r s , t o the past, t h e future, t h e absolute, a n d so
on. It is the particular w a y he situates himself within this cultural
w o r l d t h a t w e call his identity.
But now a language, a n d t h e related set of distinctions underlying
o u r experience a n d interpretation, is something t h a t can only g r o w
in and be sustained by a c o m m u n i t y . In t h a t sense, w h a t w e are as
h u m a n beings, we are only in a cultural c o m m u n i t y . Perhaps, once
we have fully grown up in a culture, we can leave it a n d still retain
m u c h of it. But this kind of case is exceptional, a n d in an i m p o r t a n t
sense marginal. Emigres c a n n o t fully live their culture, a n d are
always forced to take on something of the ways of t h e n e w society
they have entered. The life of a language and culture is o n e w h o s e
locus is larger than that of the individual. It happens in the
community. The individual possesses this culture, and hence his
identity, by participating in this larger life.
Charles Taylor 183
When 1 say t h a t a l a n g u a g e a n d the r e l a t e d d i s t i n c t i o n s c a n only
be sustained by a c o m m u n i t y , I a m n o t t h i n k i n g o n l y of l a n g u a g e as
a medium of c o m m u n i c a t i o n ; so t h a t o u r e x p e r i e n c e c o u l d be
entirely private, a n d just n e e d a p u b l i c m e d i u m t o b e c o m m u n i c a t e d
from one to another. R a t h e r the fact is t h a t o u r e x p e r i e n c e is w h a t
it is, is shaped in p a r t , by t h e w a y w e i n t e r p r e t it; a n d this h a s a lot
to do with the t e r m s w h i c h a r e a v a i l a b l e t o us in o u r c u l t u r e . But
there is more; m a n y of o u r m o s t i m p o r t a n t e x p e r i e n c e s w o u l d be
impossible outside of society, for they relate t o objects w h i c h are
social. Such are, for instance, t h e e x p e r i e n c e of p a r t i c i p a t i n g in a
rite, or of taking p a r t in t h e political life of o u r society, o r of
rejoicing at the victory of the h o m e t e a m , o r of n a t i o n a l m o u r n i n g
for a dead h e r o ; a n d so o n . All these experiences a n d e m o t i o n s h a v e
objects which are essentially social, i.e. w o u l d n o t be o u t s i d e of
(this) society.
So the culture w h i c h lives in o u r society s h a p e s o u r p r i v a t e
experience and constitutes o u r p u b l i c e x p e r i e n c e , w h i c h in t u r n
interacts profoundly w i t h t h e p r i v a t e . S o t h a t it is n o e x t r a v a g a n t
proposition to say t h a t w e are w h a t w e are in v i r t u e of p a r t i c i p a t i n g
in the larger life of o u r society - or at least, b e i n g i m m e r s e d in it, if
our relationship t o it is u n c o n s c i o u s a n d p a s s i v e , as is often the
case.
But of course Hegel is s a y i n g s o m e t h i n g m o r e t h a n this. F o r this
inescapable relation to the c u l t u r e of m y society d o e s n o t rule o u t
the most extreme alienation. This c o m e s a b o u t w h e n the p u b l i c
experience of my society ceases t o h a v e a n y m e a n i n g for m e .
Far from w i s h i n g t o d e n y t h i s possibility, H e g e l w a s o n e of the
first to develop a theory of a l i e n a t i o n . T h e p o i n t is t h a t t h e objects
of public experience, rite, festival, election, etc., are n o t like facts of
nature. For they are n o t entirely s e p a r a b l e from t h e e x p e r i e n c e they
give rise t o . T h e y are p a r t l y c o n s t i t u t e d b y t h e i d e a s a n d i n t e r p r e t a
tions which underlie t h e m . A given social p r a c t i c e , like v o t i n g in the
ecclesia, or in a m o d e r n election, is w h a t it is b e c a u s e of a set of
commonly u n d e r s t o o d ideas a n d m e a n i n g s , by w h i c h the d e p o s i t i n g
of stones in an u r n , or the m a r k i n g of bits of p a p e r , c o u n t s as t h e
making of a social decision. T h e s e ideas a b o u t w h a t is g o i n g o n are
essential to define the institution. T h e y a r e essential if t h e r e is t o be
voting here, a n d n o t s o m e quite o t h e r activity w h i c h c o u l d b e
carried on by p u t t i n g s t o n e s in the u r n s .
N o w these ideas are n o t universally a c c e p t a b l e o r even u n d e r
standable. T h e y involve a certain v i e w of m a n , society, a n d
decision, for instance, w h i c h m a y s e e m evil or unintelligible t o
other societies. T o t a k e a social decision by v o t i n g implies t h a t it is
right, a p p r o p r i a t e a n d intelligible to build the c o m m u n i t y decision
o u t of a concatenation of individual decisions. In some societies,
e.g. m a n y traditional village societies t h r o u g h o u t the w o r l d , social
decisions can (could) only be t a k e n by consensus. An atomistic
decision procedure of this kind is t a n t a m o u n t to dissolving the
social b o n d . Whatever else it is it could n o t be a social decision.
T h u s a certain view of m a n a n d his relation t o society is
e m b e d d e d in some of the practices a n d institutions of a society. So
that we can think of these as expressing certain ideas. And indeed,
they may be the only, o r the most a d e q u a t e expression of these
ideas, if the society has n o t developed a relatively articulate and
accurate theory a b o u t itself. T h e ideas w h i c h underlie a certain
practice and m a k e it w h a t it is, e.g. those which m a k e the m a r k i n g
of papers the taking of a social decision, m a y n o t be spelled
out adequately in propositions a b o u t m a n , will, society, a n d so on.
Indeed, an a d e q u a t e theoretical language may be as yet unde
veloped.
In this sense we can t h i n k of the institutions a n d practices of a
society as a kind of language in w h i c h its fundamental ideas are
expressed. But w h a t is 'said' in this language is n o t ideas which
could be in the minds of certain individuals only, they are rather
c o m m o n to a society, because e m b e d d e d in its collective life, in
practices a n d institutions which are of the society indivisibly. In
these the spirit of the society is in a sense objectified. They are, to
use Hegel's t e r m , 'objective spirit'.
These institutions a n d practices m a k e u p the public life of a
society. Certain n o r m s are implicit in t h e m , which they d e m a n d to
be maintained a n d properly lived o u t . Because of w h a t voting is as a
concatenating p r o c e d u r e of social decision, certain n o r m s a b o u t
falsification, the a u t o n o m y of the individual decision, etc., flow
inescapably from it. T h e n o r m s of a society's public life are the
content of Sittlichkeit.
W e can n o w see better w h a t Hegel m e a n s w h e n he speaks of the
n o r m s or ends of society as sustained by o u r action, a n d yet as
already there, so t h a t the m e m b e r of society 'brings t h e m a b o u t
t h r o u g h his activity, but as s o m e t h i n g w h i c h rather simply is' (EG,
§514). For these practices a n d institutions are m a i n t a i n e d only by
o n g o i n g h u m a n activity in conformity t o t h e m ; a n d yet they are in a
sense there already before this activity, a n d must be, for it is only
the o n g o i n g practice which defines w h a t the n o r m is o u r future
action must seek t o sustain. This is especially the case if there is as
yet n o theoretical formulation of the n o r m , as there was n o t in
Hegel's view in the Greek city-states at their apogee. T h e Athenian
1 8 5
Charles Taylor
acted 'as it were, o u t of instinct' ( V G , 115) his Sittlichkeit was a
'second nature'. But even if t h e r e is a t h e o r y , it c a n n o t s u b s t i t u t e t o r
the practice as a criterion, for it is unlikely t h a t a n y f o r m u a t i o n c a n
entirely render w h a t is involved in a social p r a c t i c e of this k i n d .
Societies refer to theoretical ' v a l u e ' f o r m u l a t i o n s as their n o r m s
rather than to practices, w h e n they a r e t r y i n g t o m a k e t h e m s e l v e s
over to meet an unrealized s t a n d a r d ; e.g. they a r e t r y i n g t o ' b u i l d
socialism', or become fully ' d e m o c r a t i c ' . But these goals a r e , of
course, of the d o m a i n of Moralitat. Sittlichkeit presupposes that the
living practices are an a d e q u a t e ' s t a t e m e n t ' of t h e basic n o r m s ,
although in the limit case of the m o d e r n p h i l o s o p h y of t h e s t a t e ,
Hegel sees the theoretical f o r m u l a t i o n as c a t c h i n g u p . H e n c e w e see
the importance of Hegel's insistence t h a t t h e e n d s o u g h t by t h e
highest ethics is already realized. It m e a n s t h a t t h e highest n o r m s
are to be discovered in the real, t h a t t h e real is r a t i o n a l , a n d t h a t w e
are to turn away from c h i m a e r i c a t t e m p t s t o c o n s t r u c t a n e w
society from a blue-print. Hegel strongly o p p o s e s t h o s e w h o h o l d
that a philosophy of state . . . [has] . . . t h e t a s k of d i s c o v e r i n g

and promulgating still a n o t h e r t h e o r y . . . . In e x a m i n i n g this
idea and the activity in c o n f o r m i t y w i t h it, w e m i g h t s u p p o s e
that no state o r constitution h a s ever existed in t h e w o r l d
at all, but that n o w a d a y s . . . w e h a d t o s t a r t all over a g a i n
from the beginning, a n d t h a t t h e ethical w o r l d h a d just b e e n
waiting for such present-day projects, p r o o f s a n d investiga
tions.
( P R , preface, 4)
The happiest, unalienated life for m a n , w h i c h the G r e e k s

enjoyed, is where the n o r m s a n d e n d s e x p r e s s e d in t h e p u b l i c life of
a society are the most i m p o r t a n t o n e s b y w h i c h its m e m b e r s define
their identity as h u m a n beings. F o r t h e n t h e i n s t i t u t i o n a l m a t r i x in
which they cannot help living is n o t felt t o b e foreign. R a t h e r it is
the essence, the 'substance' of t h e self. ' T h u s in u n i v e r s a l spirit each
man has self-certainty, t h e certainty t h a t h e will find n o t h i n g o t h e r
m existing reality than h i m s e l f (PhG, 2 5 8 ) .
And because this s u b s t a n c e is s u s t a i n e d b y t h e activity of t h e
zens, they see it as their w o r k . ' T h i s s u b s t a n c e is a l s o t h e
w
universal ° r k [Werk], w h i c h creates itself t h r o u g h t h e a c t i o n of
acn and all as their unity a n d equality, b e c a u s e it is Being-for-self
It-ursichsein], the self, t h e a c t of d o i n g [das T u n ] ' [PhG, 3 1 4 ) .
k < > live in a state of t h i s k i n d is t o b e free. T h e o p p o s i t i o n
een social necessity a n d i n d i v i d u a l f r e e d o m d i s a p p e a r s . ' T h e
rational is necessary as w h a t belongs to substance, and w e are free
in so far as we recognize it as law a n d follow it as the substance of
o u r o w n essence; objective and subjective will are then reconciled
a n d form one a n d the same u n t r o u b l e d w h o l e ' (VG, 115).
But alienation arises when the goals, n o r m s or ends which define
the c o m m o n practices or institutions begin to seem irrelevant or
even m o n s t r o u s , o r w h e n the n o r m s are redefined so that the
practices a p p e a r a travesty of t h e m . A n u m b e r of public religious
practices h a v e suffered the first fate in history; they have 'gone
dead' on subsequent generations, and may even be seen as
irrational or b l a s p h e m o u s . T o the extent t h a t they remain p a r t of
the public ritual there is widespread alienation in society — we can
think of c o n t e m p o r a r y societies like Spain, which remains officially
Catholic while a good part of the population is rabidly anti-clerical;
or c o m m u n i s t societies, which have a public religion of atheism,
even though m a n y of their citizens believe in G o d .
But the democratic practices of Western society seem to be
suffering something like the second fate in o u r time. M a n y people
can no longer accept the legitimacy of voting a n d the s u r r o u n d i n g
institutions, elections, p a r l i a m e n t s , etc., as vehicles of social
decision. T h e y have r e d r a w n their conception of the relation of
individual to society, so t h a t the m e d i a t i o n and distance which any
large-scale voting system produces between individual decision a n d
social o u t c o m e seems unacceptable. N o t h i n g can claim to be a
real social decision which is not arrived at in a full and intense
discussion in which all participants are fully conscious of w h a t is at
stake. Decisions m a d e by elected representatives are b r a n d e d as
s h a m , as m a n i p u l a t i o n m a s q u e r a d i n g as consensus. W i t h this
redefinition of the n o r m of collective decision (that is, of a decision
m a d e by people, and n o t just for t h e m ) , our present representative
institutions begin to be p o r t r a y e d as an i m p o s t u r e ; a n d a substan
tial p r o p o r t i o n of the p o p u l a t i o n is alienated from t h e m .
In either case, n o r m s as expressed in public practices cease to
hold o u r allegiance. They are either seen as irrelevant or are decried
as usurpation. This is alienation. W h e n this h a p p e n s m e n h a v e t o
turn elsewhere to define w h a t is centrally i m p o r t a n t to them.
Sometimes they turn t o a n o t h e r society, for instance a smaller,
m o r e intense religious c o m m u n i t y . But a n o t h e r possibility, which
h a d great historical i m p o r t a n c e in Hegel's eyes, is t h a t they strike
o u t o n their o w n a n d define their identity as individuals. Individual
ism comes, as Hegel p u t s it in the VG, w h e n m e n cease t o identify
with the c o m m u n i t y ' s life, w h e n they 'reflect', t h a t is, t u r n back on
themselves, a n d see themselves m o s t i m p o r t a n t l y as individuals
Charles Taylor 187
with individual goals. This is the m o m e n t of dissolution of a Volk
and its life.
W h a t h a p p e n s here is t h a t the individual ceases to define his
identity principally by the public experience of the society. O n the
contrary, t h e m o s t meaningful experience, which seems to him
most vital, t o t o u c h m o s t the core of his being, is private. Public
experience seems t o h i m secondary, n a r r o w , a n d parochial, merely
touching a p a r t of himself. Should t h a t experience try to make good
its claim t o centrality as before, the individual enters into conflict
with it a n d has to fight it.
This kind of shift has of course been instantiated many times in
history, b u t t h e p a r a d i g m event of this kind for Hegel occurs with
the b r e a k - u p of the G r e e k city-state. T h u s in the Greek polis, men
identified themselves w i t h its public life; its c o m m o n experiences
were for t h e m the p a r a d i g m ones. Their most basic, unchallenge
able values w e r e those e m b o d i e d in this public life, and hence their
major duty a n d virtue w a s to continue and sustain this life. In other
w o r d s , they lived fully by their Sittlichkeit. But the public life of
each of these polis w a s n a r r o w and parochial. It was not in
conformity w i t h universal r e a s o n . With Socrates arises the chal
lenge of a m a n w h o c a n n o t agree t o base his life on the parochial,
on the merely given, b u t requires a foundation in universal reason.
Socrates himself expresses a deep contradiction since he accepts the
idea of Sittlichkeit, of laws t h a t o n e should hold allegiance to; he
derives this from universal reason as well. And yet because of his
allegiance t o r e a s o n h e c a n n o t live with the actual law of Athens.
R a t h e r he u n d e r m i n e s t h e m , he corrupts the youth not to take them
as final, b u t to question t h e m . H e has to be p u t to death, a death
which he accepts because of his allegiance to the laws.
But n o w a n e w type of m a n arises w h o cannot identify with this
public life. H e begins t o relate principally n o t to the public life but
to his o w n g r a s p of universal reason. T h e norms that he n o w feels
compelling are quite u n s u b s t a n t i a t e d in any reality; they are ideas
t h a t go b e y o n d the real. T h e reflecting individual is in the domain of
Moralitat.
Of course, even the self-conscious individual related to some
society. M e n t h o u g h t of themselves qua moral beings as belonging
t o some c o m m u n i t y , the city of men and Gods of the Stoics, the
city of G o d of the C h r i s t i a n . But they saw this city as quite other
t h a n a n d b e y o n d the earthly city. And the actual community of
philosophers o r believers in which they worked o u t and sustained
the language by w h i c h they identified themselves was scattered and
powerless. T h e c o m m o n life o n which their identity as rational or
God-fearing individuals w a s founded w a s or could be very attenu
ated. So t h a t w h a t w a s most i m p o r t a n t in a m a n ' s life w a s t h a t he
did or t h o u g h t as an individual, not his participation in the public
life of a real historical c o m m u n i t y . (This w a s n o t really true of the
Christian church for which the Eucharist w a s of central i m p o r t
ance, b u t certainly applies to the sage of the late ancient world.)
In any case, the c o m m u n i t y of the wise, as t h a t of the saints, was
w i t h o u t external, self-subsistent existence in history. R a t h e r , the
public realm w a s given over to private, unjustified p o w e r . T h i s is
Hegel's usual description of the ancient period of universal empires
which succeeded the city-state, particularly the R o m a n e m p i r e . T h e
unity and fulfilment of Sittlichkeit, lost from this w o r l d , w a s
transposed o u t of it into an ethereal beyond.
W h a t then is Hegel saying with his thesis of the p r i m a c y of
Sittlichkeit, and the related notion of the c o m m u n i t y as 'ethical
substance', a spiritual life in which m a n must take part? W e can
express it in three propositions, p u t in ascending order of contesta-
bility. First, t h a t w h a t is m o s t i m p o r t a n t for m a n can only be
attained in relation to the public life of a c o m m u n i t y , not in the
private self-definition of the alienated individual. Second, this
c o m m u n i t y must not b e a merely partial o n e , e.g. a conventicle or
private association, w h o s e life is conditioned, controlled a n d
limited by a larger society. It m u s t be co-terminous w i t h the
m i n i m u m self-sufficient h u m a n reality, the state. T h e public life
which expresses at least s o m e of our i m p o r t a n t n o r m s m u s t b e t h a t
of a state.
Thirdly, the public life of the state h a s this crucial i m p o r t a n c e for
men because the n o r m s a n d ideas it expresses are not just h u m a n
inventions. O n the contrary, the state expresses the Idea, the
ontological structure of things. In the final analysis it is of vital
i m p o r t a n c e because it is o n e of the indispensable w a y s in w h i c h
m a n recovers his essential relation to this ontological structure, the
other being in the m o d e s of consciousness which Hegel calls
' a b s o l u t e spirit', and this real relation t h r o u g h the life of the
c o m m u n i t y is essential to the completion of the return t o conscious
identity between m a n a n d the Absolute (which means also the
Absolute's self-identity).
Obviously these three propositions are linked. T h e third gives the
underlying g r o u n d of the first a n d second. If m a n achieves his t r u e
identity as a vehicle of cosmic spirit, a n d if o n e of the indispensable
media in which this identity is expressed is the public life of his
political society, then evidently, it is essential t h a t h e c o m e t o
identify himself in relation to this public life. H e m u s t transcend the
Charles Taylor 189
alienation of a private or sectarian identity, since these can never
link him fully t o the Absolute.
This is the c o m p l e x of ideas which lies behind the Hegelian use
of terms like ' s u b s t a n c e ' , 'essence', 'Endzweck\ 'Selbstzweck' in
speaking of the c o m m u n i t y . First of all that the set of practices and
institutions w h i c h m a k e u p the public life of the community express
the m o s t i m p o r t a n t n o r m s , most central to its members' identity, so
t h a t they are only sustained in their identity by their participation in
these practices a n d institutions, which in their t u r n they perpetuate
by this p a r t i c i p a t i o n . Secondly, t h a t the community concerned is
the state, t h a t is, a really self-sufficient community. And thirdly,
t h a t this c o m m u n i t y has this central role because it expresses the
Idea, the formula of rational necessity underlying man and his
world.
T h u s w h a t is strange and contestable in Hegel's theory of the
state is n o t the idea of a larger life in which men are immersed, or
the n o t i o n t h a t the public life of a society expresses certain ideas,
which are t h u s in a sense the ideas of the society as a whole and not
just of the individuals, so t h a t we can speak of a people as having a
certain 'spirit'. For t h r o u g h o u t most of h u m a n history men have
lived m o s t intensely in relation to the meanings expressed in the
public life of their societies. Only an exaggerated atomism could
m a k e the condition of alienated men seem the inescapable h u m a n
norm.
But w h e r e Hegel does m a k e a substantial claim which is not
easy to g r a n t is in his basic ontological view, that man is the vehicle
of cosmic spirit, a n d the corollary, that the state expresses the
underlying formula of necessity by which this spirit posits the
world.
In other w o r d s , the idea of a 'Volksgeist\ the spirit of a people,
w h o s e ideas are expressed in their c o m m o n institutions, by which
they define their identity, this is intelligible enough. And something
like it is essential if w e are to understand w h a t has gone o n in
h u m a n history. W h a t is h a r d e r to credit is the thesis that men - and
hence in their o w n w a y these Volksgeister - are vehicles of a cosmic
spirit which is r e t u r n i n g to self-consciousness through man.
T h u s there is n o specially o d d Hegelian doctrine of a super-
individual subject of society, as is often believed. There is only a
very difficult doctrine of a cosmic subject whose vehicle is man.
This is w o v e n into a theory of m a n in society which by itself is far
from implausible o r bizarre. Indeed, it is m u c h superior to the
atomistic conceptions of some of Hegel's liberal opponents.
But it is his ontological view which makes Hegel take a turn
which goes against the m a i n s t r e a m of liberal t h o u g h t . T h i s latter
tends t o assume t h a t individualism is the ultimate in h u m a n
evolution. Even if civilized men are n o t alienated from the state, still
their highest foci of identity are t h o u g h t t o be b e y o n d it, in religion,
or s o m e personal m o r a l ideal, or the h u m a n race as a w h o l e . T h u s
the condition in which men identify themselves primarily in relation
to the c o m m o n life of their society m u s t be a m o r e primitive stage,
a n d especially w h e r e this c o m m o n life is t h o u g h t t o e m b o d y cosmic
or religious significance. For this kind of society t o succeed an age
of individualism could only represent regression. A n d this is, of
course, why Hegel has been harshly judged by those in this strand
of liberalism (which does n o t e x h a u s t w h a t can justifiably be
called liberal t h o u g h t : M o n t e s q u i e u , d e Tocqueville, H e r d e r , von
H u m b o l d t , a n d others h a v e been concerned a b o u t the quality of
public life, with which men m u s t identify themselves).
But the a t t e m p t to u n d e r s t a n d Hegel within the terms of this
liberal tradition h a s just led to distortion. A n o t o r i o u s e x a m p l e is
Hegel's doctrine of the state. In the a t o m i s t liberal tradition, ' s t a t e '
can only m e a n s o m e t h i n g like 'organs of g o v e r n m e n t ' . T o talk of
these as 'essence' or 'final goal' of the citizens can only m e a n
subjection to irresponsible tyranny. But w h a t Hegel m e a n s by
'state' is the politically organized c o m m u n i t y . His model is n o t the
6
Machstaat of Frederick the Great, which h e never a d m i r e d , b u t the
G r e e k polis. T h u s his ideal is n o t a condition in which individuals
are means to a n e n d , b u t r a t h e r a c o m m u n i t y in which like a living
o r g a n i s m , the distinction between m e a n s a n d ends is o v e r c o m e ,
everything is b o t h m e a n s a n d end. In o t h e r w o r d s the state s h o u l d
be an application of the category of internal teleology (cf. q u o t e
from VG, 1 1 2 , p . 3 8 8 ) .
T h u s the state w h i c h is fully rational will be o n e which expresses
in its institutions a n d practices the m o s t i m p o r t a n t ideas a n d n o r m s
which its citizens recognize, a n d by which they define their identity.
A n d this will be the case because the state expresses the articula
tions of the Idea, which rational m a n comes t o see as the formula of
necessity underlying all things, which is destined to come t o self-
consciousness in m a n . So that the rational state will restore
Sittlichkeit, the e m b o d i m e n t of the highest n o r m s in an o n g o i n g
public life. It will recover w h a t was lost with the Greeks, b u t o n a
higher level. F o r the fully developed state will i n c o r p o r a t e t h e
principle of the individual rational will judging by universal
criteria, the very principle t h a t u n d e r m i n e d a n d eventually
destroyed the G r e e k polis.
T h i s integration of individuality a n d Sittlichkeit is a r e q u i r e m e n t
Charles Taylor 191
we can d e d u c e from the Idea. But this is also Hegel's way of
formulating a n d a n s w e r i n g the yearning of his age to unite
s o m e h o w the radical m o r a l a u t o n o m y of Kant and the expressive
unity of the Greek polis. Hegel's answer to this c o n u n d r u m was, as
we saw, an e x t r a o r d i n a r y and original combination of the ultra
m o d e r n aspiration to a u t o n o m y , and a renewed vision of cosmic
o r d e r as the f o u n d a t i o n of society; a derivation, we might say,
of cosmic o r d e r from the idea of radical a u t o n o m y itself, via a
displacement of its centre of gravity from m a n to Geist. This
synthesis he s a w as the goal of h i s t o r y . . . .
II
W e can see the aspiration to w h a t Hegel calls 'absolute freedom', or

universal and total participation, as the attempt to meet an endemic
need of m o d e r n society. Traditional societies were founded on
differentiation: royalty, aristocracy, c o m m o n folk; priests and
laymen; free a n d serf, a n d so on. This differentiation was justified
as a reflection of a hierarchical order of things. After the revolution
of m o d e r n , self-defining subjectivity, these conceptions of cosmic
o r d e r c a m e to be seen as fictions, and were denounced as fraudulent
inventions of kings, priests, aristocrats, etc., to keep their subjects
submissive. But h o w e v e r much they may have been used, con
sciously o r n o t , as justifications of the status q u o , these conceptions
also were the g r o u n d of men's identification with the society in
which they lived. M a n could only be himself in relation to a cosmic
o r d e r ; the state claimed t o b o d y forth this order and hence to be
o n e of m e n ' s principal channels of contact with it. Hence the power
of organic a n d holistic m e t a p h o r s : men saw themselves as parts of
society in s o m e t h i n g like the way t h a t a h a n d , for instance, is part
of the b o d y .
T h e revolution of m o d e r n subjectivity gave rise to another type
of political theory. Society w a s justified n o t by what it was or
expressed, b u t by w h a t it achieved, the fulfilment of men's needs,
desires a n d p u r p o s e s . Society came to be seen as an instrument and
its different m o d e s a n d structures were to be studied scientifically
for their effects o n h u m a n happiness. Political theory would banish
myth a n d fable. This reached clearest expression in utilitarianism.
But this m o d e r n t h e o r y has n o t provided a basis for men's
identification w i t h their society. In the intermittent crises of
alienation which have followed the b r e a k d o w n of traditional
society, utilitarian theories have been powerless to fill the gap. So
that m o d e r n societies h a v e actually functioned with a large p a r t of
their traditional o u t l o o k intact, or only slowly receding, as in the
case of Britain, for instance. O r when s o m e radical break is s o u g h t ,
they have h a d recourse to m o r e powerful stuff, some variant of the
general will tradition (Jacobinism, M a r x i s m , anarchism) as a
revolutionary ideology. O r m o d e r n societies have h a d recourse
either in revolutionary or ' n o r m a l ' times to the powerful secular
religion of nationalism. And even societies which seem to be
founded o n the utilitarian tradition, o r a n earlier, Lockeian variant,
like the United States, in fact have recourse to ' m y t h ' , e.g. the m y t h
of the frontier, of the perpetual n e w beginning, the future as
boundlessly o p e n to self-creation.
This last is the greatest irony of all, in t h a t the utilitarian t h e o r y
itself leaves n o place for myth of this kind, t h a t is, speculative
interpretation of the ends of h u m a n life in their relation to society,
n a t u r e a n d history, as p a r t of the justifying beliefs of a m a t u r e
society. These are t h o u g h t t o belong t o earlier, less evolved ages.
M a t u r e men are attached to their society because of w h a t it
p r o d u c e s for t h e m . As recently as a decade ago this perspective w a s
widely believed in by the liberal intelligentsia of America and the
W e s t e r n w o r l d , w h o a n n o u n c e d an imminent 'end of ideology'. But
they t u r n e d o u t to be latter-day, inverted variants of M o n s i e u r
J o u r d a i n , w h o were speaking n o t prose, b u t myth w i t h o u t k n o w i n g
it. It is n o w clearer t h a t the utilitarian perspective is n o less an
ideology than its major rivals, a n d n o m o r e plausible. Utilitarian
m a n w h o s e loyalty t o his society w o u l d be contingent only o n t h e
satisfactions it secured for him is a species virtually w i t h o u t
m e m b e r s . And the very notion of satisfaction is n o w n o t so firmly
a n c h o r e d , once we see t h a t it is interwoven with ' e x p e c t a t i o n s ' , a n d
beliefs a b o u t w h a t is a p p r o p r i a t e and just. Some of the richest
societies in o u r day are a m o n g the m o s t teeming w i t h dissatisfac
tion, for instance, the USA.
T h e aspiration to absolute freedom can be seen as an a t t e m p t
t o fill this lack in m o d e r n political theory, to find g r o u n d s for
identification w i t h o n e ' s society which are fully in the spirit of
m o d e r n subjectivity. W e h a v e g r o u n d s for identifying ourselves
w i t h o u r society a n d giving o u r full allegiance to it w h e n it is ours in
the s t r o n g sense of being o u r creation, a n d m o r e o v e r the creation of
w h a t is best in us a n d mostly truly ourselves: o u r m o r a l will
(Rousseau, Fichte), o r o u r creative activity ( M a r x ) . F r o m Rousseau
t h r o u g h M a r x a n d the anarchist thinkers to c o n t e m p o r a r y theories
of p a r t i c i p a t o r y d e m o c r a c y , there h a v e been recurrent d e m a n d s t o
reconstruct society, so as to d o a w a y with h e t e r o n o m y , or
ti
si
i
Charles Taylor 193
overcome alienation, or recover spontaneity. Only a society which
was an e m a n a t i o n of free moral will could recover a claim on our
allegiance c o m p a r a b l e t o t h a t of traditional society. For once more
society w o u l d reflect or e m b o d y something of absolute value. Only
this w o u l d n o longer be a cosmic order, but in keeping with the
m o d e r n revolution, the absolute w o u l d be h u m a n freedom itself.
T h e aspiration t o absolute freedom is therefore born of a deep
dissatisfaction with the utilitarian model of society as an instrument
for the furtherance/adjustment of interests. Societies built on this
model are experienced as a spiritual desert, or as a machine. They
express n o t h i n g spiritual, and their regulations and discipline are
felt as an intolerable imposition by those w h o aspire to absolute
freedom. It is therefore n o t surprising that the theorists of absolute
freedom have often been close to the reactionary critics of liberal
society, a n d have often themselves expressed admiration for earlier
societies.
Hegel u n d e r s t o o d this aspiration. As we saw he made the
d e m a n d for radical a u t o n o m y a central part of his theory. He had
indeed, an i m p o r t a n t place in the line of development of this
aspiration to absolute freedom as it develops from Rousseau
t h r o u g h M a r x and b e y o n d . For he wove the demand for radical
a u t o n o m y of Rousseau a n d Kant together with the expressivist
theory which c a m e from H e r d e r , a n d this provided the indispens
able b a c k g r o u n d for M a r x ' s thought. And yet he was a strong critic
of radical freedom. This alone would make it worthwhile to
e x a m i n e his objections.
Disentangled from Hegel's particular theory of social differentia
tion, the basic point of this critique is this: absolute freedom
requires h o m o g e n e i t y . It c a n n o t brook differences which would
prevent everyone participating totally in the decisions of the
society. A n d w h a t is even m o r e , it requires some near unanimity of
will to emerge from this deliberation, for otherwise the majority
w o u l d just be i m p o s i n g its will on the minority, and freedom would
n o t be universal. But differentiation of some fairly essential kinds
are ineradicable. (Let us leave aside for the m o m e n t the objection
t h a t Hegel did n o t identify the right ones.) And moreover, they are
recognized in o u r p o s t - R o m a n t i c climate as essential to h u m a n
identity. M e n c a n n o t simply identify themselves as men, but they
define themselves m o r e immediately by their partial community,
cultural, linguistic, confessional, etc. M o d e r n democracy is there
fore in a b i n d .
I t h i n k a d i l e m m a of this kind can be seen in contemporary
society. M o d e r n societies have moved t o w a r d s much greater
homogeneity and greater interdependence, so t h a t partial com
munities lose their a u t o n o m y and to s o m e e x t e n t their identity.
But great differences r e m a i n ; only because of the ideology of
homogeneity, these differential characteristics n o longer have
meaning a n d value for those w h o h a v e t h e m . T h u s the rural
p o p u l a t i o n is t a u g h t by the m a s s media t o see itself as just lacking in
some of the advantages of a more advanced life style. T h e p o o r are
seen as marginal t o the society, for instance, in America, and in
some ways have a w o r s e lot t h a n in m o r e recognizedly class-divided
societies.
H o m o g e n i z a t i o n thus increases minority alienation a n d resent
ment. And the first response of liberal society is t o try even m o r e of
the same: p r o g r a m m e s to eliminate p o v e r t y , o r assimilate Indians,
move p o p u l a t i o n o u t of declining regions, bring an u r b a n w a y of
life t o the countryside, etc. But the radical response is t o convert
this sense of alienation into a d e m a n d for ' a b s o l u t e freedom'. T h e
idea is to overcome alienation by creating a society in which
everyone, including the present ' o u t ' g r o u p s , participate fully in the
decisions.
But b o t h these solutions w o u l d simply aggravate the p r o b l e m ,
which is that h o m o g e n i z a t i o n has u n d e r m i n e d the c o m m u n i t i e s or
characteristics by which people formerly identified themselves a n d
p u t n o t h i n g in their place. W h a t does step into the gap a l m o s t
everywhere is ethnic or n a t i o n a l identity. N a t i o n a l i s m has b e c o m e
the most powerful focus of identity in m o d e r n society. T h e d e m a n d
for radical freedom can and frequently d o e s join u p w i t h n a t i o n a l
ism, a n d is given a definite impetus a n d direction from this.
But unless this h a p p e n s , the aspiration to absolute freedom is
u n a b l e to resolve the dilemma. It a t t e m p t s t o o v e r c o m e the
alienation of a mass society by mass participation. But the very size,
complexity a n d inter-dependence of m o d e r n society m a k e s this
increasingly difficult o n technical g r o u n d s alone. W h a t is m o r e
serious, the increasing alienation in a society w h i c h has eroded its
traditional foci of allegiance m a k e s it h a r d e r a n d h a r d e r to achieve
the basic consensus, t o b r i n g everyone to the 'general will', w h i c h is
essential for radical d e m o c r a c y . As the traditional limits fade with
the g r o u n d s for accepting t h e m , society tends t o fragment, partial
g r o u p s become increasingly truculent in their d e m a n d s , as they see
less reason t o c o m p r o m i s e w i t h the 'system'.
But the radical d e m a n d for participation can d o n o t h i n g to stem
this fragmentation. Participation of all in a decision is only possible
if there is a g r o u n d of agreement, or of underlying c o m m o n
p u r p o s e . Radical participation cannot create this; it presupposes it.
Charles Taylor 195
This is the p o i n t w h i c h Hegel repeatedly m a k e s . T h e d e m a n d for
absolute freedom by itself is e m p t y . Hegel stresses one line of
possible consequences, t h a t emptiness leads to p u r e destructiveness.
But he also m e n t i o n s a n o t h e r in his discussion in the PhG. For in
fact some direction h a s t o b e given t o society, a n d hence a g r o u p
can take over a n d i m p r i n t its o w n p u r p o s e o n society claiming to
represent the general will. T h e y t h u s 'solve' the p r o b l e m of diversity
by force. C o n t e m p o r a r y c o m m u n i s t societies provide examples of
this. And w h a t e v e r can b e said for t h e m they can certainly not be
thought of as m o d e l s of freedom. M o r e o v e r their solution to the
emptiness of a b s o l u t e freedom is in a sense only provisional. The
problem of w h a t social g o a l s t o c h o o s e or structures to a d o p t is
solved by the exigencies of mobilization and c o m b a t t o w a r d s the
free society. Society can be set a definite task because it has t o build
the preconditions of c o m m u n i s m , either in defeating class enemies
or in constructing a m o d e r n e c o n o m y . Such societies w o u l d be in
disarray if ever the p e r i o d of mobilization were t o end (which is
why it w o u l d e n d only over the d e a d bodies of the ruling party).
But an ideology of p a r t i c i p a t i o n which does n o t w a n t to take this
totalitarian r o a d of general mobilization cannot cope with the com
plexity a n d f r a g m e n t a t i o n of a large-scale c o n t e m p o r a r y society.
M a n y of its p r o t a g o n i s t s see this, and return to the original
Rousseauian idea of a highly decentralized federation of c o m m u n i
ties. But in the m e a n t i m e the g r o w t h of a large homogeneous
society has m a d e this m u c h less feasible. It is n o t just that with o u r
massive c o n c e n t r a t i o n s of p o p u l a t i o n a n d economic interdepend
ence a lot of decisions h a v e t o be taken for the whole society, a n d
decentralization gives us n o w a y of coping with these. M o r e serious
is the fact t h a t h o m o g e n i z a t i o n has u n d e r m i n e d the partial
communities w h i c h w o u l d n a t u r a l l y have been the basis of such a
decentralized federation in the past. T h e r e is n o advantage in an
artificial carving u p of society into m a n a g e a b l e units. If in fact no
one identifies strongly w i t h these units, participation will be
minimal, as w e see in m u c h of o u r u r b a n politics today.
T h u s Hegel's d i l e m m a for m o d e r n democracy, p u t as its simplest,
is this: T h e m o d e r n ideology of equality and of total participation
leads t o a h o m o g e n i z a t i o n of society. This shakes men loose from
their traditional c o m m u n i t i e s , but c a n n o t replace them as a focus or
identity. O r r a t h e r , it can only replace t h e m as such a focus under
the impetus of militant nationalism or some totalitarian ideology
which w o u l d d e p r e c i a t e o r even crush diversity a n d individuality. It
w o u l d be a focus for s o m e a n d w o u l d reduce the others to mute
alienation. H e g e l c o n s t a n t l y stresses t h a t the tight unity ot the
Greek city-state c a n n o t be recaptured in the m o d e r n w o r l d t h a t has
k n o w n the principle of individual freedom.
T h u s the a t t e m p t t o fill the gap by m o v i n g t o w a r d s a society of
universal a n d total participation, w h e r e it is n o t actually harmful in
suppressing freedom, is v a i n . It can only aggravate the p r o b l e m by
intensifying h o m o g e n i z a t i o n , while offering n o relief since absolute
freedom by itself is empty and c a n n o t offer a focus of identity. And
besides, total participation is unrealizable in a large-scale society. In
fact ideologies of absolute freedom only p r o d u c e s o m e t h i n g in the
h a n d s of a minority with a powerful vision which it is willing t o
impose.
T h e only real cure for this m a l a d y , a recovery of meaningful
differentiation, is closed for m o d e r n society precisely because of its
c o m m i t m e n t to ideologies which constantly press it t o w a r d s greater
homogeneity. Some of the differences which r e m a i n are depreci
ated, and are breeding g r o u n d s for alienation a n d resentment.
O t h e r s in fact fill the gap a n d become foci of identity. These are
principally ethnic or n a t i o n a l differences. But they tend t o be
exclusive a n d divisive. They can only w i t h difficulty form the basis
'i of a differentiated society. O n the c o n t r a r y , multi-national states
have great t r o u b l e surviving in the m o d e r n w o r l d . N a t i o n a l i s m
tends t o lead t o single h o m o g e n e o u s states. W h e r e n a t i o n a l i s m is
strong, it tends t o provide the c o m m o n focus of i d e n t i t y j n d t o fend
off fragmentation, 'But then it is in^d^nêTliTSuxJpressing dissent
"ancT'dTversity a n d falling over into a n a r r o w a n d irrational
, chauvinism.
Hegel gave, as w e shall see again b e l o w , little i m p o r t a n c e t o
nationalism. And this w a s the cause of his failure to foresee its
pivotal role in the m o d e r n world. As a n allegiance it was not
rational e n o u g h , t o o close t o pure sentiment, t o have an i m p o r t a n t
place in the f o u n d a t i o n s of the state. But it is also true that it c a n n o t
provide w h a t m o d e r n society needs in his view. A n d this is a g r o u n d
for differentiation, meaningful to the people concerned, b u t which
at the same time does n o t set the partial c o m m u n i t i e s against each
o t h e r , but rather knits t h e m together in a larger w h o l e .
T h i s in a single formula is w h a t m o d e r n society w o u l d require t o
resolve its d i l e m m a . It is s o m e t h i n g which traditional societies h a d .
For the point a b o u t conceptions of cosmic o r d e r or o r g a n i c
analogies is t h a t they gave a m e a n i n g t o differences between social
g r o u p s which also b o u n d t h e m into o n e . But h o w t o recover this in
m o d e r n society? Hegel's answer, as w e s a w it, is t o give social a n d
political differentiation a m e a n i n g by seeing t h e m as expressive of
cosmic o r d e r , b u t h e conceives this o r d e r as the final a n d c o m p l e t e
Charles Taylor 197
fulfilment of the m o d e r r n a s p i r a t i o n t o a u t o n o m y . It is a n o r d e r
founded on r e a s o n a l o n e , a n d hence is the ultimate object of the
free will.
We can see n o w m o r e clearly h o w the t w o levels of Hegel's
thought on the necessary differentiation of society meshed with
each other. O n o n e level, t h e r e is the set of considerations d r a w n
from a c o m p a r i s o n w i t h t h e G r e e k polis: the size of the m o d e r n
state, the great differences w h i c h a state m u s t e n c o m p a s s once all
the functions are t o be p e r f o r m e d by citizens, the m o d e r n notion of
individuality. T h e s e will be generally accepted by everyone t h o u g h
their significance m i g h t b e d i s p u t e d . O n the other level, there is the
necessary articulation of the Idea which has to be reflected in
society. In Hegel's m i n d these d o n o t o p e r a t e as quite separate
orders of c o n s i d e r a t i o n , as I have set t h e m o u t here. They are
intricated in each o t h e r , so that Hegel sees the existing social
differentiations of his t i m e as reflecting the articulations of the Idea,
or rather as p r e p a r i n g a perfectly a d e q u a t e reflection as the Idea
realizes itself in history. A n d t h a t is of course w h y he did n o t see
these differences as r e m n a n t s of earlier history destined to wither
away, as the radical t h i n k e r s of this time t h o u g h t , b u t r a t h e r as
approaching the l i n e a m e n t s of a state which w o u l d finally be
'adequate to the c o n c e p t ' .
We c a n n o t accept H e g e l ' s solution t o d a y . But the dilemma it w a s
meant to solve r e m a i n s . It w a s the d i l e m m a w h i c h de Tocqueville
tried to grapple with in different t e r m s , w h e n he saw the immense
importance to a d e m o c r a t i c polity of vigorous constituent com
munities in a decentralized structure of p o w e r , while a t the s a m e
time the pull of equality t e n d e d t o t a k e m o d e r n society t o w a r d s
uniformity, a n d p e r h a p s also submission u n d e r an o m n i p o t e n t
government. T h i s c o n v e r g e n c e is p e r h a p s n o t all t h a t surprising in
two thinkers w h o w e r e b o t h deeply influenced by M o n t e s q u i e u ,
and both h a d a d e e p a n d s y m p a t h e t i c u n d e r s t a n d i n g of the past as
well as of the w a v e of the future. But w h e t h e r we take it in Hegel's
reading or in de T o c q u e v i l l e ' s , one of the great needs of the m o d e r n
democratic polity is t o recover a sense of significant differentiation,
so that its partial c o m m u n i t i e s , be they geographical, or cultural, or
occupational, can b e c o m e a g a i n i m p o r t a n t centres of concern a n d
activity for their m e m b e r s in a w a y which connects t h e m t o the
whole.
NOTES
1
Cf. Schriften zur Politik und Rechtsphilosophie, ed. G. Lasson (Leipzig,
1923), p. 388.
2
Once again, this is Hegel's term of art; Kant himself used the usual word
'Sittlichkeit' in his works on ethics.
3
Cf. also PR, §§145,156,258.
4
In the language of the Logic, the category of External Teleology is
inadequate here. The state can only be understood by Internal Teleology.
5
Thus in PR, §258, Hegel speaks of the state possessing 'the actuality of
the substantial will . . . in the particular self-consciousness once that
consciousness has been raised to consciousness of its universality' (my
italics).
6
In a work of the early 1800s, which has been published since his death
under the title, The German Constitution, Hegel expresses his opposition
to the modern theory that a state should be a 'machine with a single
spring which imparts movement to all the rest of the infinite wheelwork'
(Schriften zur Politik und Rechtsphilosophie, ed. G. Lasson, Leipzig
1923, p. 28; Hegel's Political Writings, translated T. M. Knox, ed. Z. A.
Pelczynski, Oxford, 1964, p. 161). Prussia, as well as revolutionary
France, is cited as an example later in this passage. (Schriften p. 3 1 ,
Political Writings pp. 163-4. Cf. discussion in Schlomo Avineri, Hegel's
Theory of the Modern State, Cambridge, 1970, pp. 47-9).
REFERENCES GIVEN IN ABBREVIATED FORM
Abbre Work Comment

viation
PhG Phdnomenologie des The Phenomenology of Spirit

Geistes, published by Hegel in 1807 at the
G. Lasson edition, end of his Jena period.
Hamburg,
1952
EG System der Philosophic, References are to paragraph
dritter teil. Die Philosophic numbers (§ . . . ) . Hegel's
des Geistes, SW x. paragraphs consisted of a
principal statement, sometimes
followed by an explanatory-
remark, sometimes in turn
followed by an addition inserted
by the later editors. Where useful
I distinguish in my references
between the principal statement
Charles Taylor 199
and the remark, and where

remark or addition are very long,
I give the page reference in the
SW edition.
Grundlinien der References to this work, first
Philosophic des Rechts, ed. published in 1821, are also to
J. Hoffmeister, Hamburg, paragraph numbers (§ . . . ) . Here
1955, or Hegel's also the main text of a paragraph
Philosophy of Right, trans. is sometimes followed by an
T. M. Knox (Oxford, explanatory remark (sometimes
1942). referred to with an 'E' after the
paragraph number), and also
sometimes by an addition inserted
by later editors on the basis of
lecture notes. 1 have usually
quoted the text of Knox's edition,
but the references to paragraph
number makes it easy to find the
texts in the German edition as
well. Where remarks or additions
are long, I have given page
references to the Knox edition.
Die Vernunft in der The introductory part of Hegel's
Geschichte, ed. lectures on the philosophy of
J. Hoffmeister history, put together from various
(Hamburg, 1955). cycles of lecture notes after his
death.
10
Michael Walzer: Welfare,
Membership and Need*
M e m b e r s h i p is i m p o r t a n t because of w h a t the m e m b e r s of a
political c o m m u n i t y o w e t o one a n o t h e r a n d to n o o n e else, or to n o
o n e else in the same degree. And the first thing they o w e is the
c o m m u n a l provision of security a n d welfare. This claim might be
reversed: c o m m u n a l provision is i m p o r t a n t because it teaches us
the value of m e m b e r s h i p . If we did n o t provide for o n e a n o t h e r , if
we recognized n o distinction between m e m b e r s a n d strangers, we
w o u l d h a v e n o reason to form a n d m a i n t a i n political c o m m u n i t i e s .
' H o w shall men love their c o u n t r y ' , Rousseau asked, 'if it is n o t h i n g
m o r e for t h e m t h a n for strangers, and b e s t o w s o n t h e m only t h a t
1
which it can refuse t o n o n e ? ' Rousseau believed t h a t citizens o u g h t
to love their c o u n t r y and therefore that their country o u g h t t o give
t h e m particular reasons t o d o so. M e m b e r s h i p (like kinship) is a
special relation. It's n o t enough to say, as E d m u n d Burke did, t h a t
2
'to m a k e us love o u r country, our c o u n t r y o u g h t to be lovely.' T h e
crucial thing is that it be lovely for us — t h o u g h w e always h o p e t h a t
it will be lovely for others (we also love its reflected loveliness).
Political c o m m u n i t y for the sake of provision, provision for the
sake of c o m m u n i t y : the process w o r k s b o t h w a y s , a n d t h a t is
p e r h a p s its crucial feature. Philosophers a n d political theorists have
been t o o quick t o t u r n it i n t o a simple calculation. Indeed, w e are
rationalists of everyday life; we come together, w e sign the social
c o n t r a c t or reiterate the signing of it, in o r d e r to provide for o u r
needs. And we value the contract insofar as those needs are met.
But one of o u r needs is c o m m u n i t y itself: culture, religion, a n d
politics. It is only u n d e r the aegis of these three t h a t all the other
things we need b e c o m e socially recognized needs, t a k e o n historical
a n d determinate form. T h e social c o n t r a c t is an agreement to reach
decisions together a b o u t w h a t goods are necessary to o u r c o m m o n
life, a n d then to p r o v i d e those goods for o n e a n o t h e r . T h e signers
* From Spheres of Justice by Michael Walzer. © 1983 by Basic Books,

Inc., Publishers. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
Michael Walzer 201
own one another m o r e t h a n m u t u a l aid, for t h a t they o w e or can

owe to anyone. They o w e m u t u a l p r o v i s i o n of all those things for
the sake of which they h a v e s e p a r a t e d themselves from m a n k i n d as
a whole and joined forces in a p a r t i c u l a r c o m m u n i t y . Amour social
is one of those things; b u t t h o u g h it is a d i s t r i b u t e d g o o d - often
unevenly distributed - it arises o n l y in t h e course of o t h e r
distributions (and of the political choices t h a t t h e o t h e r distri
butions require). M u t u a l provision breeds m u t u a l i t y . So the
common life is simultaneoulsy the prerequisite of p r o v i s i o n a n d o n e
of its products.
Men and w o m e n c o m e t o g e t h e r because they literally c a n n o t live
apart. But they can live t o g e t h e r in m a n y different w a y s . T h e i r
survival and then their well-being require a c o m m o n effort: against
the wrath of the g o d s , the hostility of o t h e r p e o p l e , t h e indifference
and malevolence of n a t u r e (famine, flood, fire, a n d disease), the
brief transit of a h u m a n life. N o t a r m y c a m p s a l o n e , as D a v i d
Hume w r o t e , b u t temples, s t o r e h o u s e s , irrigation w o r k s , a n d burial
3
grounds are the t r u e m o t h e r s of cities. As the list suggests, origins
are not singular in c h a r a c t e r . Cities differ from o n e a n o t h e r , p a r t l y
because of the n a t u r a l e n v i r o n m e n t s in w h i c h they are built a n d the
immediate dangers their builders e n c o u n t e r , p a r t l y because of the
conceptions of social g o o d s t h a t t h e b u i l d e r s h o l d . T h e y recognize
but also create o n e a n o t h e r ' s needs a n d so give a p a r t i c u l a r s h a p e t o
what 1 will call the 'sphere of security a n d welfare'. T h e s p h e r e itself
is as old as t h e oldest h u m a n c o m m u n i t y . I n d e e d , o n e m i g h t say
that the original c o m m u n i t y is a sphere of security a n d welfare, a
system of c o m m u n a l p r o v i s i o n , d i s t o r t e d , n o d o u b t , b y gross
inequalities of strength a n d c u n n i n g . But t h e system h a s , in any
case, no n a t u r a l form. Different experiences a n d different c o n c e p
tions lead t o different p a t t e r n s of p r o v i s i o n . T h o u g h t h e r e a r e s o m e
goods that are needed absolutely, t h e r e is n o g o o d such t h a t o n c e
we see it, we k n o w h o w it s t a n d s vis-d-vis all o t h e r g o o d s a n d h o w
much of it w e o w e t o o n e a n o t h e r . T h e n a t u r e of a need is n o t self-
evident.
C o m m u n a l provision is b o t h general a n d p a r t i c u l a r . It is general

whenever public funds are s p e n t so as t o benefit all or m o s t of the
members w i t h o u t any d i s t r i b u t i o n t o individuals. It is p a r t i c u l a r
whenever g o o d s are actually h a n d e d over t o all o r any of t h e
members.* W a t e r , for e x a m p l e , is o n e of ' t h e b a r e r e q u i r e m e n t s of
1 don't mean to reiterate here the technical distinction that economists

make between public and private goods. General provision is always
Public, at least on the less stringent definitions of that term (which specify
202 Welfare, Membership and Need
civil life', and the building of reservoirs is a form of general
4
p r o v i s i o n . But the delivery of w a t e r to one r a t h e r t h a n t o another
n e i g h b o u r h o o d (where, say, the wealthier citizens live) is particular.
T h e securing of the food supply is general; the distribution of food
to w i d o w s a n d o r p h a n s is particular. Public health is m o s t often
general, the care of the sick, m o s t often particular. Sometimes the
criteria for general and particular provision will differ radically.
T h e building of temples a n d the o r g a n i z a t i o n of religious services is
an e x a m p l e of general provision designed t o meet the needs of the
c o m m u n i t y as a w h o l e , b u t c o m m u n i o n with the gods m a y be
allowed only t o particularly m e r i t o r i o u s m e m b e r s (or it m a y be
sought privately in secret or in n o n c o n f o r m i s t sects). T h e system of
justice is a general g o o d , meeting c o m m o n needs; b u t the actual
distribution of r e w a r d s a n d p u n i s h m e n t s m a y serve the particular
needs of a ruling class, or it m a y b e organized, as w e c o m m o n l y
think it should be, to give individuals w h a t they individually
deserve. Simone Weil has argued t h a t , w i t h regard t o justice, need
operates at both the general a n d t h e p a r t i c u l a r levels, since
5
criminals need t o be p u n i s h e d . But t h a t is an idiosyncratic use of
the w o r d need. M o r e likely, the p u n i s h m e n t of criminals is
something only the rest of us need. But need d o e s o p e r a t e both
generally a n d particularly for other g o o d s : health care is an obvious
e x a m p l e t h a t I will later consider in s o m e detail.
Despite the inherent forcefulness of the w o r d , needs are elusive.
People d o n ' t just have needs, they h a v e ideas a b o u t their needs;
they have priorities, they have degrees of need; a n d these
priorities and degrees are related n o t only to their h u m a n n a t u r e
b u t also to their history a n d culture. Since resources are always
scarce, h a r d choices h a v e to be m a d e . I suspect t h a t these
can only be political choices. T h e y are subject to a certain
philosophical elucidation, b u t the idea of need a n d t h e c o m m i t m e n t
t o c o m m u n a l provision d o not by themselves yield any clear
determination of priorities or degrees. Clearly w e c a n ' t meet, a n d
we d o n ' t have to meet, every need t o the same degree or a n y need to
only that public goods are those that can't be provided to some and not to
other members of the community). So are most forms of particular
provision, for even goods delivered to individuals generate non-exclusive
benefits for the community as a whole. Scholarships to orphans, for
example, are private to the orphans, public to the community of citizens
within which the orphans will one day work and vote. But public goods of
this latter sort, which depend upon prior distributions to particular persons
or groups, have been controversial in many societies; and I have designed
my categories so as to enable me to examine them closely.
Michael Walzer 203
the ultimate degree. T h e a n c i e n t A t h e n i a n s , for e x a m p l e , p r o v i d e d
public baths a n d g y m n a s i u m s for the citizens b u t never p r o v i d e d
anything remotely resembling u n e m p l o y m e n t i n s u r a n c e or social
security. They m a d e a choice a b o u t h o w t o s p e n d public funds, a
choice shaped p r e s u m a b l y by their u n d e r s t a n d i n g of w h a t the
c o m m o n life required. It w o u l d be h a r d t o a r g u e t h a t they m a d e a
mistake. I s u p p o s e there are n o t i o n s of need t h a t w o u l d yield such a
conclusion, b u t these w o u l d n o t be n o t i o n s acceptable to - they
might n o t even be c o m p r e h e n s i b l e t o - the A t h e n i a n s themselves.
T h e question of degree suggests even m o r e clearly the i m p o r t a n c e
of political choice a n d the irrelevance of any merely p h i l o s o p h i c a l
stipulation. N e e d s are n o t only elusive; they are also e x p a n s i v e . In
the phrase of the c o n t e m p o r a r y p h i l o s o p h e r C h a r l e s Fried, needs
6
are v o r a c i o u s ; they eat u p r e s o u r c e s . But it w o u l d be w r o n g t o
suggest t h a t therefore need c a n n o t be a distributive principle. It is,
rather, a principle subject t o political l i m i t a t i o n ; a n d the limits
(within limits) can be a r b i t r a r y , fixed by s o m e t e m p o r a r y coalition
of interests o r majority of voters. C o n s i d e r the case of physical
security in a m o d e r n A m e r i c a n city. W e c o u l d p r o v i d e a b s o l u t e
security, eliminate every source of violence e x c e p t d o m e s t i c vio
lence, if w e p u t a street light every ten y a r d s a n d s t a t i o n e d a
policeman every thirty y a r d s t h r o u g h o u t the city. But t h a t w o u l d be
very expensive, a n d so w e settle for s o m e t h i n g less. H o w m u c h less
can only be decided politically.* O n e can imagine the sorts of
things t h a t w o u l d figure in the d e b a t e s . A b o v e all, I t h i n k , t h e r e
w o u l d be a certain u n d e r s t a n d i n g — m o r e o r less widely s h a r e d ,
controversial only at t h e m a r g i n s — of w h a t constitutes ' e n o u g h '
security or of w h a t level of insecurity is simply intolerable. T h e
decision w o u l d also be affected by o t h e r factors: alternative n e e d s ,
the state of t h e e c o n o m y , the agitation of the p o l i c e m e n ' s u n i o n ,
a n d so o n . But w h a t e v e r decision is ultimately r e a c h e d , for
w h a t e v e r r e a s o n s , security is p r o v i d e d because the citizens need it.
A n d because, at some level, they all need it, the criterion of need
r e m a i n s a critical s t a n d a r d (as w e shall see) even t h o u g h it c a n n o t
d e t e r m i n e priority a n d degree. . . .
And should be decided politically: that is what democratic political

arrangements are for. Any philosophical effort to stipulate in detail the
rights or the entitlements of individuals would radically constrain the scope
7
of democratic decision making. I have argued this point elsewhere.
THE EXTENT OF PROVISION
Distributive justice in the sphere of welfare a n d security has a

twofold m e a n i n g : it refers, first t o the recognition of need a n d ,
second, to the recognition of m e m b e r s h i p . G o o d s m u s t be provided
t o needy m e m b e r s because of their neediness, b u t they m u s t also be
provided in such a w a y as to sustain their m e m b e r s h i p . It's not the
case, however, t h a t m e m b e r s have a claim on any specific set of
g o o d s . Welfare rights are fixed only w h e n a c o m m u n i t y a d o p t s
some p r o g r a m m e of mutual provision. T h e r e are strong a r g u m e n t s
t o be m a d e that, under given historical conditions, such-and-such a
p r o g r a m m e should be a d o p t e d . But these are n o t a r g u m e n t s a b o u t
individual rights; they are arguments a b o u t the character of a
particular political c o m m u n i t y . N o o n e ' s rights were violated
because the A t h e n i a n s did not allocate public funds for the
education of children. Perhaps they believed, a n d p e r h a p s they were
right, t h a t the public life of the city w a s e d u c a t i o n e n o u g h .
T h e right t h a t m e m b e r s can legitimately claim is of a m o r e
general sort. It u n d o u b t e d l y includes some version of the H o b b e s -
ian right t o life, some claim on c o m m u n a l resources for b a r e
subsistence. N o c o m m u n i t y can allow its m e m b e r s t o starve to
death w h e n there is food available t o feed t h e m ; n o g o v e r n m e n t can
stand passively by at such a time - n o t if it claims to be a
g o v e r n m e n t of or by o r for the c o m m u n i t y . T h e indifference of
Britain's rulers during the Irish p o t a t o famine in the 1840s is a sure
sign t h a t Ireland w a s a colony, a conquered land, n o real part of
8
G r e a t Britain. This is n o t to justify the indifference - o n e has
obligations to colonies a n d to conquered peoples - but only to
suggest t h a t the Irish w o u l d have been better served by a
g o v e r n m e n t , virtually any g o v e r n m e n t , of their o w n . Perhaps Burke
came closest t o describing the fundamental right t h a t is at stake
here w h e n he w r o t e : ' G o v e r n m e n t is a contrivance of h u m a n
w i s d o m to provide for h u m a n w a n t s . M e n have a right that these
9
w a n t s should be p r o v i d e d for by this w i s d o m . It only h a s t o be said
t h a t the w i s d o m in question is the w i s d o m n o t of a ruling class, as
Burke seems t o h a v e t h o u g h t , but of the c o m m u n i t y as a whole.
O n l y its culture, its character, its c o m m o n u n d e r s t a n d i n g s can
define the ' w a n t s ' that are t o be provided for. But culture,
character, a n d c o m m o n u n d e r s t a n d i n g s are not givens; they d o n ' t
o p e r a t e a u t o m a t i c a l l y ; a t a n y particular m o m e n t , the citizens must
argue a b o u t the extent of m u t u a l provision.
T h e y argue a b o u t the m e a n i n g of the social c o n t r a c t , the original
Michael Walzer 205
and reiterated conception of the sphere of security and welfare.
This is n o t a hypothetical or an ideal contract of the sort J o h n
Rawls has described. Rational men and w o m e n in the original
position, deprived of all particular knowledge of their social
standing a n d cultural understanding, would probably opt, as Rawls
has argued, for an equal distribution of whatever goods they were
10
told they n e e d e d . But this formula doesn't help very much in
determining w h a t choices people will make, or w h a t choices they
should m a k e , once they k n o w w h o and where they are. In a world
of particular cultures, competing conceptions of the good, scarce
resources, elusive a n d expansive needs, there isn't going to be a
single formula, universally applicable. There isn't going to be a
single universally a p p r o v e d p a t h that carries us from a notion like,
say, 'fair s h a r e s ' to a comprehensive list of the goods to which that
n o t i o n applies. Fair shares of w h a t ?
Justice, tranquillity, defence, welfare, and liberty: that is the list
p r o v i d e d by the United States Constitution. O n e could construe it
as an exhaustive list, b u t the terms are vague; they provide at best a
starting p o i n t for public debate. T h e standard appeal in that debate
is t o a larger idea: the Burkeian general right, which takes on
d e t e r m i n a t e force only u n d e r determinate conditions and requires
different sorts of provision in different times and places. The idea is
simply t h a t w e have c o m e together, shaped a community, in order
to c o p e with difficulties a n d dangers that we could n o t cope with
alone. A n d so whenever we find ourselves confronted with difficul
ties a n d d a n g e r s of that sort, we look for c o m m u n a l assistance. As
the balance of individual and collective capacity changes, so the
kinds of assistance t h a t are looked for change, t o o .
T h e history of public health in the West might usefully be told in
these t e r m s . Some minimal provision is very old, as the Greek and
Jewish examples suggest; the measures adopted were a function of
the c o m m u n i t y ' s sense of danger a n d the extent of its medical
k n o w l e d g e . O v e r the years, living arrangements on a larger scale
b r e d n e w dangers, and scientific advance generated a new sense of
d a n g e r a n d a n e w awareness of the possibilities of coping. And then
g r o u p s of citizens pressed for a wider p r o g r a m m e of c o m m u n a l
provision, exploiting the new science to reduce the risks of urban
life. T h a t , they might rightly say, is w h a t the community is for. A
similar a r g u m e n t can be m a d e in the case of social security. The
very success of general provision in the field of public health has
greatly e x t e n d e d the span of a n o r m a l h u m a n life and then also the
s p a n of years during which men a n d w o m e n are unable to support
themselves, d u r i n g which they are physically b u t most often not
socially, politically, or morally incapacitated. O n c e again, s u p p o r t
for the disabled is one of the oldest and most c o m m o n forms of
particular provision. But n o w it is required on a m u c h larger scale
t h a n ever before. Families are o v e r w h e l m e d by the costs of old age
a n d look for help t o the political c o m m u n i t y . Exactly w h a t o u g h t t o
be d o n e will be a m a t t e r of dispute. W o r d s like health, danger,
science, even old age, have very different meanings in different
cultures; n o external specification is possible. But this is not to say
t h a t it w o n ' t be clear enough to the people involved t h a t s o m e t h i n g
— s o m e particular set of things - o u g h t to b e d o n e .
Perhaps these examples are too easy. Disease is a general t h r e a t ;
old age, a general prospect. N o t so u n e m p l o y m e n t and poverty,
which p r o b a b l y lie b e y o n d the ken of m a n y well-to-do people. T h e
p o o r can always be isolated, locked into ghettos, b l a m e d a n d
punished for their o w n misfortune. At this point, it might be said,
provision can n o longer be defended by invoking a n y t h i n g like the
' m e a n i n g ' of the social contract. But let us look m o r e closely at the
easy cases; for, in fact, they involve all the difficulties of the difficult
ones. Public health and social security invite us to t h i n k of the
political c o m m u n i t y , in T. H . M a r s h a l l ' s phrase, as a ' m u t u a l
1 1
benefit c l u b ' . All provision is reciprocal; the m e m b e r s take t u r n s
providing a n d being provided for, m u c h as Aristotle's citizens t a k e
t u r n s ruling and being ruled. This is a h a p p y picture, a n d one t h a t is
really u n d e r s t a n d a b l e in contractualist t e r m s . It is n o t only the case
t h a t rational agents, k n o w i n g n o t h i n g of their specific situation,
w o u l d agree t o these t w o forms of provision; the real agents, the
o r d i n a r y citizens, of every m o d e r n d e m o c r a c y have in fact agreed t o
t h e m . T h e t w o are, or so it a p p e a r s , equally in the interests of
hypothetical a n d of actual people. C o e r c i o n is only necessary in
practice because s o m e minority of actual people d o n ' t u n d e r s t a n d ,
or d o n ' t consistently u n d e r s t a n d , their real interests. O n l y the
reckless a n d the i m p r o v i d e n t need to be forced to c o n t r i b u t e — a n d
it can always be said of t h e m t h a t they joined in the social c o n t r a c t
precisely in order t o protect themselves against their o w n reckless
ness a n d improvidence. In fact, h o w e v e r , the reasons for coercion
go m u c h deeper t h a n t h i s ; the political c o m m u n i t y is s o m e t h i n g
m o r e t h a n a m u t u a l benefit c l u b ; a n d the extent of c o m m u n a l
provision in any given case — w h a t it is a n d w h a t it s h o u l d be — is
determined by conceptions of need that are m o r e p r o b l e m a t i c t h a n
the a r g u m e n t t h u s far suggests.
Consider again the case of public h e a l t h . N o c o m m u n a l provi
sion is possible h e r e w i t h o u t the constraint of a w i d e r a n g e of
activities profitable t o individual m e m b e r s of the c o m m u n i t y b u t
Michael Walzer 207
threatening t o some larger number. Even something so simple, for
e x a m p l e , as the provision of uncontaminated milk to large urban
p o p u l a t i o n s requires extensive public control; and control is a
political achievement, the result (in the United States) of bitter
12
struggles, over m a n y years, in one city after a n o t h e r . When the
farmers or the m i d d l e m e n of the dairy industry defended free
enterprise, they were certainly acting rationally in their own
interests. T h e same thing can be said of other entrepreneurs w h o
defend themselves against the constraints of inspection, regulation,
a n d enforcement. Public activities of these sorts may be of the
highest value t o the rest of us; they are not of the highest value to all
of us. T h o u g h I have t a k e n public health as an example of general
provision, it is provided only at the expense of some members of the
c o m m u n i t y . M o r e o v e r , it benefits most the most vulnerable of the
others: t h u s , the special importance of the building code for those
w h o live in c r o w d e d tenements, and of anti-pollution laws for those
w h o live in the immediate vicinity of factory smokestacks or water
drains. Social security, t o o , benefits the most vulnerable members,
even if, for reasons I have already suggested, the actual payments
are the same for everyone. For the well-to-do can, or many of them
think they can, help themselves even in time of trouble and would
m u c h prefer n o t to be forced to help anyone else. The truth is that
every serious effort at c o m m u n a l provision (insofar as the income
of the c o m m u n i t y derives from the wealth of its members) is
13
redistributive in c h a r a c t e r . The benefits it provides are not, strictly
speaking m u t u a l .
O n c e again, rational agents ignorant of their o w n social standing
w o u l d agree t o such a redistribution. But they would agree too
easily, a n d their agreement doesn't help us understand w h a t sort of
a redistribution is required: H o w much? For w h a t purposes? In
practice, redistribution is a political matter, and the coercion it
involves is foreshadowed by the conflicts that rage over its
character a n d extent. Every particular measure is pushed through
by s o m e coalition of particular interests. But the ultimate appeal in
these conflicts is n o t to the particular interests, not even to a public
interest conceived as their sum, but to collective values, shared
u n d e r s t a n d i n g s of m e m b e r s h i p , health, food and shelter, work and
leisure. T h e conflicts themselves are often focused, at least overtly,
o n questions of fact; the understandings are assumed. T h u s the
e n t r e p r e n e u r s of the dairy industry denied as long as they could the
c o n n e c t i o n between c o n t a m i n a t e d milk and tuberculosis. But once
t h a t connection w a s established, it was difficult for them to deny
t h a t milk s h o u l d be inspected: caveat emptor was not, in such a
case, a plausible doctrine. Similarly, in the debates over old-age
pensions in G r e a t Britain, politicians mostly agreed on the tradi
tional British value of self-help but disagreed sharply a b o u t w h e t h e r
self-help was still possible t h r o u g h the established working-class
friendly societies. These w e r e real mutual-benefit clubs organized
on a strictly voluntary basis, b u t they seemed a b o u t to be
overwhelmed by the g r o w i n g n u m b e r s of the aged. It became
increasingly a p p a r e n t t h a t the m e m b e r s simply did not have the
resources t o protect themselves and o n e a n o t h e r from poverty in
old age. And few British politicians w e r e p r e p a r e d to say t h a t they
14
should be left u n p r o t e c t e d .
H e r e , then, is a m o r e precise account of the social c o n t r a c t : it is
an agreement t o redistribute the resources of the m e m b e r s in
accordance with some shared u n d e r s t a n d i n g of their needs, subject
to o n g o i n g political determination in detail. T h e contract is a m o r a l
b o n d . It connects the strong and the w e a k , the lucky and the
unlucky, the rich and the p o o r , creating a u n i o n that transcends all
differences of interest, d r a w i n g its strength from history, culture,
religion, language, a n d so on. Arguments a b o u t c o m m u n a l provi
sion a r e , at the deepest level interpretations of t h a t u n i o n . T h e
closer and m o r e inclusive it is, the wider the recognition of needs,
the greater the n u m b e r of social goods t h a t are d r a w n into the
15
sphere of security a n d w e l f a r e . I d o n ' t d o u b t t h a t m a n y political
communities h a v e redistributed resources on very different princi
ples, n o t in accordance with the needs of the m e m b e r s generally b u t
in accordance with the p o w e r of the wellborn or the wealthy. But
t h a t , as Rousseau suggested in his Discourse on Inequality, m a k e s a
16
fraud of the social c o n t r a c t . In any c o m m u n i t y , w h e r e resources
are t a k e n away from the p o o r a n d given t o the rich, the rights of the
p o o r are being violated. T h e w i s d o m of the c o m m u n i t y is n o t
engaged in providing for their w a n t s . Political debate a b o u t the
n a t u r e of those w a n t s will have to be repressed, else the fraud will
quickly be exposed. W h e n all the m e m b e r s share in the business of
interpreting the social contract, the result will be a m o r e or less
extensive system of c o m m u n a l provision. If all states are in
principle welfare states, democracies are m o s t likely to be welfare
states in practice. Even the imitation of d e m o c r a c y breeds welfar
ism, as in the 'people's democracies', w h e r e the state protects the
people against every disaster except those that it inflicts o n t h e m
itself.
So d e m o c r a t i c citizens argue a m o n g themselves a n d o p t for m a n y
different sorts of security a n d welfare, extending far b e y o n d my
'easy' examples of public health a n d old-age pensions. T h e category
Michael Walzer 209
of socially recognized needs is open-ended. For the people's sense of
w h a t they need encompasses not only life itself but also the good
life, a n d the a p p r o p r i a t e balance between these t w o is itself a matter
of dispute. T h e A t h e n i a n d r a m a and the Jewish academies were
both financed with m o n e y that could have been spent on housing,
say, or o n medicine. But d r a m a and education were taken by
Greeks a n d J e w s t o be n o t merely enhancements of the common life
but vital aspects of c o m m u n a l welfare. 1 w a n t to stress again that
these are n o t judgements that can easily be called incorrect.
AN AMERICAN WELFARE STATE
W h a t sort of c o m m u n a l provision is appropriate in a society like

our o w n ? It's n o t my p u r p o s e here to anticipate the outcomes of
d e m o c r a t i c d e b a t e or to stipulate in detail the extent or the forms of
provision. But it can be argued, I think, that the citizens of a
m o d e r n industrial d e m o c r a c y owe a great deal to one another, and
the a r g u m e n t will provide a useful opportunity to test the critical
force of the principles I have defended up until now: that every
political c o m m u n i t y must attend to the needs of its members as they
collectively u n d e r s t a n d those needs; that the goods that are
distributed m u s t be distributed in p r o p o r t i o n to need; and that the
distribution m u s t recognize and uphold the underlying equality of
m e m b e r s h i p . These are very general principles; they are meant to
apply to a wide range of communities - to any community, in fact,
w h e r e the m e m b e r s are each other's equals (before God or the law),
or w h e r e it can plausibly be said that, however they are treated in
fact, they o u g h t t o be each other's equals. The principles probably
d o n ' t apply to a c o m m u n i t y organized hierarchically, as in tradi
tional India, w h e r e the fruits of the harvest are distributed not
according t o need b u t according t o caste - or rather, as Louis
D u t n o n t has written, w h e r e 'the needs of each are conceived to be
different, d e p e n d i n g on [his] caste.' Everyone is guaranteed a share,
so D u m o n t ' s Indian village is still a welfare state, 'a sort of co
operative w h e r e the m a i n aim is to ensure the subsistence of
everyone in a c c o r d a n c e with his social function', but not a welfare
u n d e r
state or a co-operative w h o s e principles we can readily "
1 7
s t a n d . (But D u m o n t does not tell us h o w food is supposed to be
distributed in time of scarcity. If the subsistence standard is the
same for everyone, then w e are back in a familiar world.)
Clearly, the three principles apply to the citizens of the United
States; a n d they have considerable force here because of the
affluence of the c o m m u n i t y a n d the expansive u n d e r s t a n d i n g of
individual need. O n the other h a n d the United States currently
maintains one of the shabbier systems of c o m m u n a l provision in
the Western world. This is so for a variety of reasons: the
c o m m u n i t y of citizens is loosely organized; v a r i o u s ethnic a n d
religious groups r u n welfare p r o g r a m m e s of their o w n ; the ideology
of self-reliance and entrepreneurial o p p o r t u n i t y is widely accepted;
a n d the movements of the left, particularly the l a b o u r m o v e m e n t ,
1 8
are relatively w e a k . Democratic decision-making reflects these
realities, and there is n o t h i n g in principle w r o n g with that.
Nevertheless, the established pattern of provision d o e s n ' t measure
u p to the internal requirements of the sphere of security a n d
welfare, and the c o m m o n u n d e r s t a n d i n g s of the citizens point
t o w a r d a m o r e elaborate p a t t e r n . O n e might also argue t h a t
American citizens should w o r k t o build a stronger and more
intensely experienced political c o m m u n i t y . But this argument,
t h o u g h it w o u l d have distributive consequences, is n o t , properly
speaking, an a r g u m e n t a b o u t distributive justice. T h e question is,
W h a t d o the citizens o w e o n e a n o t h e r , given the c o m m u n i t y they
actually inhabit?
Consider the e x a m p l e of criminal justice. The actual distribution
of p u n i s h m e n t s is an issue I will take u p in a later c h a p t e r . But the
a u t o n o m y of p u n i s h m e n t , the certainty that people are being
punished for the right reasons (whatever those are), depends u p o n
the distribution of resources within the legal system. If accused men
a n d w o m e n are t o receive their rightful s h a r e of justice, they must
first have a rightful share of legal aid. H e n c e the institution of the
public defender a n d the assigned counsel: just as the h u n g r y must
be fed, so the accused must be defended; a n d they must be defended
in p r o p o r t i o n to their needs. But n o impartial observer of the
American legal system t o d a y can d o u b t t h a t the resources necessary
19
t o meet this s t a n d a r d are n o t generally a v a i l a b l e . T h e rich and
the p o o r are treated differently in American courts, t h o u g h it is the
public c o m m i t m e n t of the courts to treat them the same. T h e
a r g u m e n t for a m o r e generous provision follows from t h a t c o m m i t
m e n t . If justice is to be provided at all, it must be provided equally
for all accused citizens w i t h o u t regard to their w e a l t h (or their race,
religion, political p a r t i s a n s h i p , a n d so o n ) . I d o n ' t m e a n t o
underestimate the practical difficulties here; but this, again, is the
inner logic of provision, a n d it m a k e s for a n illuminating e x a m p l e
of c o m p l e x equality. For the inner logic of r e w a r d a n d p u n i s h m e n t
Michael Walzer 211
is different, requiring, as I shall argue later, that distributions be
proportional t o desert a n d n o t to need. Punishment is a negative
good t h a t o u g h t to be m o n o p o l i z e d by those w h o have acted badly
- and w h o h a v e been found guilty of acting badly (after a
resourceful defence).
Legal aid raises n o theoretical problems because the institutional
stuctures for p r o v i d i n g it already exist, and what is at stake is only
the readiness of the c o m m u n i t y to live up to the logic of its own
institutions. I w a n t to t u r n n o w t o an area where American
institutions are relatively underdeveloped, and where communal
c o m m i t m e n t is p r o b l e m a t i c , the subject of continuing political
debate: the area of medical care. But here the argument for a more
extensive provision m u s t move more slowly. It isn't enough to
s u m m o n u p a 'right to t r e a t m e n t ' . I shall have to recount something
of the history of medical care as a social good.
The Case of Medical Care
Until recent times, the practice of medicine was mostly a matter of

free enterprise. D o c t o r s m a d e their diagnosis, gave their advice,
healed or d i d n ' t heal their patients, for a fee. Perhaps the private
character of the e c o n o m i c relationship was connected to the
intimate c h a r a c t e r of the professional relationship. M o r e likely, I
think, it h a d t o d o w i t h the relative marginality of medicine itself.
Doctors could, in fact, d o very little for their patients; and the
c o m m o n a t t i t u d e in the face of disease (as in the face of poverty)
was a stoical fatalism. O r , p o p u l a r remedies were developed that
were not m u c h less effective, sometimes more effective, than those
prescribed by established physicians. Folk medicine sometimes
produced a k i n d of c o m m u n a l provision at the local level, but it
was equally likely to generate n e w practitioners, charging fees in
their t u r n . Faith healing followed a similar pattern.
Leaving these t w o aside, we can say that the distribution of
medical care has historically rested in the hands of the medical
profession, a guild of physicians t h a t dates at least from the time
of H i p p o c r a t e s in the fifth century BC. The guild has functioned
to exclude u n c o n v e n t i o n a l practitioners and to regulate the number
of physicians in any given community. A genuinely tree
m a r k e t has never been in the interest of its members. But
» is in the interest of the m e m b e r s to sell their services to
individual p a t i e n t s ; a n d t h u s , by a n d large, the well-to-do have
been well cared for (in accordance with the c u r r e n t u n d e r s t a n d i n g
of g o o d care) a n d the p o o r hardly cared for at all. In a few
u r b a n communities - in the medieval Jewish c o m m u n i t i e s , for
e x a m p l e - medical services w e r e m o r e widely available. But they
w e r e virtually u n k n o w n for m o s t people m o s t of the time. Doctors
w e r e the servants of the rich, often a t t a c h e d to noble houses a n d
royal courts. W i t h regard to this practical o u t c o m e , however, the
profession has always h a d a collective bad conscience. For the
distributive logic of the practice of medicine seems to be this: that
care should be p r o p o r t i o n a t e to illness a n d not to w e a l t h . Hence,
there have always been d o c t o r s , like t h o s e h o n o u r e d in ancient
Greece, w h o served the p o o r on the side, as it w e r e , even while they
earned their living from paying patients. M o s t d o c t o r s , present in
an emergency, still feel b o u n d to help the victim w i t h o u t regard to
his material status. It is a m a t t e r of professional G o o d Samaritan-
ism t h a t the call 'Is there a d o c t o r in the h o u s e ? ' should not go
u n a n s w e r e d if there is a d o c t o r t o a n s w e r it. In o r d i n a r y times,
however, there w a s little call for medical help, largely because there
w a s little faith in its actual helpfulness. A n d so the b a d conscience
of the profession w a s n o t echoed by a n y political d e m a n d for the
replacement of free enterprise by c o m m u n a l provision.
In E u r o p e d u r i n g the M i d d l e Ages, the cure of souls w a s public,
the cure of bodies private. T o d a y , in m o s t E u r o p e a n c o u n t r i e s , the
situation is reversed. T h e reversal is best explained in terms of a
major shift in the c o m m o n u n d e r s t a n d i n g of souls a n d bodies: w e
have lost confidence in the cure of souls, and w e h a v e c o m e
increasingly to believe, even to be obsessed w i t h , the cure of bodies.
Descartes's f a m o u s declaration that the 'preservation of h e a l t h ' was
the 'chief of all g o o d s ' m a y be t a k e n t o symbolize the shift - or to
herald it, for in the history of p o p u l a r attitudes, Descartes's
20
Discourse on Method c a m e very e a r l y . T h e n , as eternity receded
in the p o p u l a r consciousness, longevity m o v e d t o the fore. A m o n g
medieval Christians, eternity w a s a socially recognized need; and
every effort w a s m a d e t o see that it w a s widely a n d equally
distributed, t h a t every Christian had an equal chance at salvation
a n d eternal life: hence, a church in every parish, regular services,
catechism for the y o u n g , c o m p u l s o r y c o m m u n i o n , and so o n .
A m o n g m o d e r n citizens, longevity is a socially recognized need;
a n d increasingly every effort is m a d e to see t h a t it is widely a n d
equally distributed, t h a t every citizen h a s an equal c h a n c e at a long
Michael Walzer 213
and healthy life: hence doctors a n d hospitals in every district,
regular c h e c k - u p s , health education for the young, compulsory
vaccination, a n d so o n .
Parallel to the shift in attitudes, a n d following naturally from it,
was a shift in institutions: from the church to the clinic and the
hospital. But the shift h a s been gradual: a slow development of
c o m m u n a l interest in medical care, a slow erosion of interest in
religious care. T h e first major form of medical provision came in
the area of p r e v e n t i o n , n o t of treatment, probably because the
former involved n o interference with the prerogatives of the guild
of physicians. But the beginnings of provision in the area of
treatment w e r e roughly simultaneous with the great public health
campaigns of the late nineteenth century, and the t w o undoubtedly
reflect the s a m e sensitivity t o questions of physical survival. The
licensing of physicians, the establishment of state medical schools
and u r b a n clinics, the filtering of tax m o n e y into the great voluntary
hospitals: these m e a s u r e s involved, perhaps, only marginal interfer
ence with the profession - some of them, in fact, reinforced its
guildlike c h a r a c t e r ; b u t they already represent an important public
21
commitment. Indeed, they represent a commitment that ulti
mately can be fulfilled only by turning physicians, or some
substantial n u m b e r of t h e m , into public physicians (as a smaller
n u m b e r o n c e t u r n e d themselves into court physicians) and by
abolishing or c o n s t r a i n i n g the m a r k e t in medical care. But before I
defend t h a t t r a n s f o r m a t i o n , I w a n t t o stress the unavoidability of
the c o m m i t m e n t from w h i c h it follows.
W h a t has h a p p e n e d in the m o d e r n world is simply that disease
itself, even w h e n it is e n d e m i c rather t h a n epidemic, has come to be
seen as a plague. A n d since the plague can be dealt with, it must be
dealt with. People will n o t e n d u r e w h a t they n o longer believe they
have to e n d u r e . D e a l i n g with tuberculosis, cancer, or heart failure,
however, requires a c o m m o n effort. Medical research is expensive,
and the t r e a t m e n t of m a n y particular diseases lies far beyond the
resources of o r d i n a r y citizens. So the community must step in, and
any d e m o c r a t i c c o m m u n i t y will in fact step in, more or less
vigorously, m o r e o r less effectively, depending on the outcome of
particular political battles. T h u s , the role of the American Govern
ment (or g o v e r n m e n t s , for m u c h of the activity is at the state and
local levels): subsidizing research, training doctors, providing
hospitals a n d e q u i p m e n t , regulating voluntary insurance schemes,
u n d e r w r i t i n g t h e t r e a t m e n t of the very old. All this represents the
contrivance of h u m a n w i s d o m t o provide for h u m a n w a n t s . ' And
all t h a t is required t o m a k e it morally necessary is the development
of a ' w a n t ' so widely a n d deeply felt t h a t it can plausibly be said
t h a t it is the w a n t n o t of this or t h a t person alone b u t of the
c o m m u n i t y generally - a ' h u m a n w a n t ' even t h o u g h culturally
shaped a n d stressed. *
But once c o m m u n a l provision begins, it is subject to further
m o r a l constraints: it must provide w h a t is ' w a n t e d ' equally to all
the m e m b e r s of the c o m m u n i t y ; a n d it must d o so in w a y s t h a t
respect their m e m b e r s h i p . N o w , even the pattern of medical
provision in the United States, t h o u g h it stops far short of a
national health service, is intended t o provide minimally decent
care t o all w h o need it. O n c e public funds are c o m m i t t e d , public
officials can hardly intend anything less. At the same time, however,
n o political decision has yet been m a d e t o challenge directly the
system of free enterprise in medical care. A n d so long as t h a t system
exists, wealth will be d o m i n a n t in (this p a r t of) the sphere of
security a n d welfare; individuals will be cared for in p r o p o r t i o n to
their ability t o pay a n d n o t to their need for care. In fact, the
situation is m o r e complex t h a n t h a t formula suggests, for c o m m u
nal provision already encroaches upon the free m a r k e t , and the very
sick and the very old sometimes receive exactly the t r e a t m e n t they
should receive. But it is clear t h a t poverty remains a significant b a r
t o a d e q u a t e a n d consistent treatment. Perhaps the most telling
statistic a b o u t c o n t e m p o r a r y American medicine is the correlation
of visits to d o c t o r s a n d hospitals with social class r a t h e r t h a n with
degree or incidence of illness. Middle- a n d upper-class Americans
are considerably m o r e likely t o have a private physician a n d t o see
him often, a n d considerably less likely t o be seriously ill, t h a n are
25
their p o o r e r fellow c i t i z e n s . W e r e medical care a l u x u r y , these
* Arguing against Bernard Williams's claim that the only proper criterion
22
for the distribution of medical care is medical need, Robert Nozick asks
why it doesn't then follow 'that the only proper criterion for the
23
distribution of barbering services is barbering need'? Perhaps it does
follow if one attends only to be the 'internal goal' of the activity, conceived
in universal terms. But it doesn't follow if one attends to the social meaning
of the activity, the place of the good it distributes in the life of a particular
group of people. One can conceive of a society in which haircuts took on
such central cultural significance that communal provision would be
morally required, but it is something more than an interesting fact that no
such society has ever existed. I have been helped in thinking about these
issues by an article of Thomas Scanlon's; I adopt here his 'conventionalist'
24
alternative.
Michael Walzer 215
discrepancies w o u l d n o t m a t t e r much; but as soon as medical care
becomes a socially recognized need, and as soon as the community
invests in its provision, they matter a great deal. For then
deprivation is a d o u b l e loss - to one's health and to one's social
standing. D o c t o r s a n d hospitals have become such massively
i m p o r t a n t features of c o n t e m p o r a r y life that to be cut off from the
help they p r o v i d e is n o t only dangerous but also degrading.
But any fully developed system of medical provision will require
the c o n s t r a i n t of the guild of physicians. Indeed, this is more
generally t r u e : the provision of security and welfare requires the
constraint of those men a n d w o m e n w h o had previously controlled
the goods in q u e s t i o n a n d sold them on the market (assuming, what
is by n o m e a n s always t r u e , that the market predates communal
provision). F o r w h a t we d o when we declare this or that good to be
a needed g o o d is t o block or constrain its free exchange. We also
block any o t h e r distributive procedure that doesn't attend to need -
p o p u l a r election, m e r i t o c r a t i c competition, personal or familiar
preference, a n d so o n . But the m a r k e t is, at least in the United States
today, the chief rival of the sphere of security and welfare; and it is
most i m p o r t a n t l y the m a r k e t that is pre-empted by the welfare
state. N e e d e d g o o d s c a n n o t be left to the whim, or distributed in
the interest, of s o m e powerful group of owners or practitioners.
M o s t often, o w n e r s h i p is abolished, and practitioners are effect
ively conscripted or, at least, 'signed u p ' in the public service. They
serve for the s a k e of the social need and not, or not simply, for their
o w n sakes: t h u s , priests for the sake of eternal life, soldiers for the
sake of n a t i o n a l defence, public [state] school teachers for the sake
of their p u p i l s ' e d u c a t i o n . Priests act wrongly if they sell salvation;
soldiers, if they set up as mercenaries; teachers, if they cater to the
children of the wealthy. Sometimes the conscription is only partial,
as when lawyers are required to be officers of the court, serving the
cause of justice even while they also serve their clients and
themselves. Sometimes the conscription is occasional and tempor
ary, as w h e n lawyers a r e required to act as 'assigned counsels' for
defendants u n a b l e t o p a y . In these cases, a special effort is made to
respect the p e r s o n a l c h a r a c t e r of the lawyer-client relationship. I
w o u l d look for a similar effort in any fully developed national
health service. But I see n o reason to respect the doctor's market
freedom. N e e d e d g o o d s are n o t commodities. O r , more precisely,
they can be b o u g h t a n d sold only insofar as they are available above
and beyond w h a t e v e r level of provision is fixed by democratic
decision m a k i n g (and only insofar as the buying and selling doesn t
distort distributions b e l o w that level).
It might be argued, however, t h a t the refusal thus far t o finance a
national health service constitutes a political decision by the
American people a b o u t the level of c o m m u n a l care (and a b o u t the
relative i m p o r t a n c e of o t h e r goods): a minimal s t a n d a r d for
everyone - namely, the s t a n d a r d of the u r b a n clinics; and free
enterprise b e y o n d t h a t . T h a t w o u l d seem to me an inadequate
s t a n d a r d , but it w o u l d n o t necessarily b e an unjust decision. It is
n o t , however, the decision the American people have m a d e . The
c o m m o n appreciation of the i m p o r t a n c e of medical care has carried
t h e m well beyond that. In fact, federal, state, and local governments
n o w subsidize different levels of care for different classes of citizens.
This might be all right, t o o , if the classification w e r e connected to
the purposes of the care — if, for e x a m p l e , soldiers a n d defence
w o r k e r s w e r e given special t r e a t m e n t in time of w a r . But the p o o r ,
the middle class, a n d the rich m a k e an indefensible triage. So long
as c o m m u n a l funds are spent, as they currently are, t o finance
research, build hospitals, a n d pay the fees of d o c t o r s in private
practice, the services t h a t these expenditures u n d e r w r i t e m u s t be
equally available t o all citizens.
T h i s , t h e n , is the a r g u m e n t for an e x p a n d e d A m e r i c a n welfare
state. It follows from the three principles w i t h w h i c h I b e g a n , a n d it
suggests t h a t the tendency of those principles is to free security and
welfare from the prevailing patterns of d o m i n a n c e . T h o u g h a
variety of institutional a r r a n g e m e n t s is possible, the three principles
w o u l d seem to favour provision in k i n d ; they suggest an i m p o r t a n t
a r g u m e n t against current proposals to distribute m o n e y instead of
education, legal aid, or medical care. T h e negative income t a x , for
e x a m p l e , is a plan to increase the p u r c h a s i n g p o w e r of the p o o r — a
26
modified version of simple e q u a l i t y . This plan w o u l d not,
however, abolish the d o m i n a n c e of wealth in the sphere of need.
Short of a radical equalization, m e n a n d w o m e n with greater
p u r c h a s i n g p o w e r could still, and surely w o u l d , bid u p the price of
needed services. So the c o m m u n i t y w o u l d be investing, t h o u g h n o w
only indirectly, in individual welfare b u t w i t h o u t fitting provision
to the shape of need. Even w i t h equal incomes, health care delivered
t h r o u g h the m a r k e t w o u l d n o t be responsive to need; n o r w o u l d the
m a r k e t provide adequately for medical research. This is n o t an
a r g u m e n t against t h e negative income t a x , however, for it m a y be
the case t h a t m o n e y itself, in a m a r k e t e c o n o m y , is one of the things
t h a t people need. And then it t o o , p e r h a p s , should be provided in
kind.
I w a n t to stress again t h a t n o a priori stipulation of w h a t needs
o u g h t t o be recognized is possible; n o r is there any a priori way of
Michael Walzer 217
determining a p p r o p r i a t e levels of provision. O u r attitudes toward
medical care h a v e a history; they have been different; they will be
different again. T h e forms of c o m m u n a l provision have changed in
the past a n d will continue to change. But they don't change
automatically as attitudes change. T h e old order has its clients;
there is a lethargy in institutions as in individuals. Moreover,
popular attitudes are rarely so clear as they are in the case of
medical care. So change is always a matter of political argument,
organization, a n d struggle. All that the philosopher can do is to
describe the basic s t r u c t u r e of the arguments and the constraints
they entail. H e n c e the three principles, which can be summed up in
a revised version of M a r x ' s famous m a x i m : From each according to
his ability (or his resources); to each according to his socially
recognized needs. This, I think, is the deepest meaning of the social
contract. It only remains to w o r k out the details - but in everyday
life, the details are everything.
NOTES
1
Jean-Jacques Rousseau, 'A Discourse on Political Economy', The Social
Contract and Discourses, trans. G. D. H. Cole (New York, 1950),
2 pp. 3 0 2 - 3 .
Edmund Burke, Reflections on the French Revolution (London, 1910),
P 7 5
3 - -
Cf. David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, bk. in, part n, ch. 8.
The quotation is from the Greek geographer Pausanias, in George
Rosen, A History of Public Health (New York, 1958), p. 41.
Simone Weil, The Need for Roots, trans. Arthur Wills (Boston, 1955),
p. 2 1 .
6
Charles Fried, Right and Wrong (Cambridge, Mass, 1978), p. 122.
Michael Walzer, 'Philosophy and Democracy', Political Theory 9
(1981), pp. 3 7 9 - 9 9 . See also the thoughtful discussion in Amy Gut-
mann, Liberal Equality (Cambridge, England, 1980) especially
8 PP. 197-202.
For an account of the famine and the British response, see C. B.
Woodham-Smith, The Great Hunger: Ireland 1845-1849 (London,
9
Burke, French Revolution [2], p. 57.
John Rawls, A Theory of Justice (Cambridge, Mass, 1971), part i, chs. I
and 3.
11
T. H. Marshall, Class, Citizenship and Social Development (Garden
City, New York, 1965), p. 298. , .
See Judith Walzer Leavitt, The Healthiest City: Milwaukee and We
Politics of Health Reform (Princeton, 1982), ch. 5.
1 3
See the careful discussion in Harold L. Wilensky, The Welfare State and
Equality (Berkeley, 1975), pp. 87-96.
1 4
P. H. J. H. Gosden, Self-Help: Voluntary Association in the Nineteenth
Century (London, 1973), ch. 9.
15
See, for example, Harry Eckstein's discussion of conceptions of com
munity and welfare policies in Norway. Division and Cohesion in
Democracry: A Study of Norway (Princeton, 1966), pp. 85—7.
16
Rousseau, Social Contract (1), pp. 250—2.
1 7
Louis Dumont, Humo Hierarchus: The Caste System and Its Implica
tions (revised English ed., Chicago, 1980), p. 105.
1 8
Wilensky, Welfare State (32), chs. 2 and 3.
1 9
See Whitney North Seymour, Why Justice Fails (New York, 1973),
especially ch. 4.
2 0
Rene Descartes, Discourse on Method, trans. Arthur Wollaston (Har-
mondsworth, England, 1960), p. 85.
2 1
For a brief account of these developments, see Odin W. Anderson, The
Uneasy Equilibrium: Private and Public Financing of Health Services in
the United States, 1875-1965 (New Haven, 1968).
2 2
Bernard Williams, 'The Idea of Equality', in Problems of the Self
(Cambridge, England, 1973), p. 240.
2 3
See Robert Nozick, Anarchy, State, and Utopia (New York, 1974),
pp. 2 3 3 - 5 .
2 4
Thomas Scanlon, 'Preference and Urgency', Journal of Philosophy, 57
(1975), pp. 655-70.
2 5
Monroe Lerner, 'Social Differences in Physical Health', John B. McKin-
ley, 'The Help-Seeking Behavior of the Poor', and Julius Roth, 'The
Treatment of the Sick', in Poverty and Health: A Sociological Analysis,
ed. John Kosa and Irving Kenneth Zola (Cambridge, Mass, 1969),
summary statements at pp. 103,265, adn 2 8 0 - 1 .
2 6
Also, supposedly, cheaper form of welfare: see Colin Clark, Poverty
before Politics: A Proposal for a Reverse Income Tax (Hobart Paper 73,
London, 1977).
11
Michael Oakeshott: Political
Education*
The expression 'political e d u c a t i o n ' has fallen o n evil d a y s ; in the

wilful and disingenuous c o r r u p t i o n of l a n g u a g e w h i c h is character
istic of our time it h a s a c q u i r e d a sinister m e a n i n g . In places o t h e r
than this, it is associated w i t h t h a t softening of the m i n d , by force,
by alarm, or by the h y p n o t i s m of the endless repetition of w h a t w a s
scarcely w o r t h saying o n c e , by m e a n s of w h i c h w h o l e p o p u l a t i o n s
have been reduced to s u b m i s s i o n . It is, therefore, an enterprise
worth u n d e r t a k i n g t o c o n s i d e r again, in a quiet m o m e n t , h o w w e
should u n d e r s t a n d this e x p r e s s i o n , which joins together t w o
laudable activities, a n d in d o i n g so play a small p a r t in rescuing it
from abuse.
Politics I take t o be t h e activity of a t t e n d i n g t o the general
arrangements of a set of p e o p l e w h o m c h a n c e o r choice have
brought together. In this sense, families, clubs, a n d learned societies
have their 'polities'. But t h e c o m m u n i t i e s in w h i c h this m a n n e r of
activity is p r e - e m i n e n t are the h e r e d i t a r y co-operative g r o u p s , m a n y
of them of ancient lineage, all of t h e m a w a r e of a past, a present,
and a future, w h i c h w e call 'states'. F o r m o s t people, political
activity is a s e c o n d a r y activity - t h a t is t o say, they have s o m e t h i n g
else to d o besides a t t e n d i n g t o these a r r a n g e m e n t s . But, as w e have
come to u n d e r s t a n d it, t h e activity is o n e in w h i c h every m e m b e r of
the group w h o is neither a child n o r a lunatic h a s some p a r t a n d
some responsibility. W i t h us it is, at o n e level or a n o t h e r , a
universal activity.
I speak of this activity as ' a t t e n d i n g t o a r r a n g e m e n t s ' , r a t h e r t h a n
as 'making a r r a n g e m e n t s ' , b e c a u s e in these h e r e d i t a r y co-operative
* © 1977 Permission granted by Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, Inc.

220 Political Education
g r o u p s the activity is never offered the b l a n k sheet of infinite
possibility. In any generation, even the m o s t r e v o l u t i o n a r y , the
a r r a n g e m e n t s which are enjoyed always far exceed those w h i c h are
recognized t o s t a n d in need of attention, a n d those w h i c h are being
p r e p a r e d for enjoyment are few in comparison with those which
receive a m e n d m e n t : the new is an insignificant p r o p o r t i o n of the
w h o l e . There are s o m e p e o p l e , of course, w h o allow themselves to
speak
As if arrangements were intended

For nothing else but to be mended
but, for most of us, o u r determination t o i m p r o v e o u r c o n d u c t does

n o t prevent us from recognizing that the greater p a r t of w h a t we
have is not a b u r d e n t o be carried o r an incubus to be t h r o w n off,
but an inheritance to be enjoyed. A n d a certain degree of shabbiness
is joined with every real convenience.
N o w , a t t e n d i n g to the a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society is a n activity
which, iike every other, has to be learned. Politics m a k e a call u p o n
k n o w l e d g e . Consequently, it is n o t irrelevant to enquire i n t o the
kind of k n o w l e d g e which is involved, a n d t o investigate the n a t u r e
of political e d u c a t i o n . I d o n o t , h o w e v e r , p r o p o s e to ask w h a t
information w e should equip ourselves with before w e begin to be
politically active, o r w h a t w e need t o k n o w in o r d e r to be successful
politicians, b u t to enquire into the k i n d of k n o w l e d g e we unavoid
ably call u p o n whenever we are engaged in political activity a n d to
get from this an u n d e r s t a n d i n g of the n a t u r e of political e d u c a t i o n .
O u r t h o u g h t s o n political education, then, might be supposed t o
spring from o u r u n d e r s t a n d i n g of political activity a n d the k i n d of
k n o w l e d g e it involves. And it w o u l d a p p e a r t h a t w h a t is w a n t e d at
this point is a definition of political activity from w h i c h t o d r a w
s o m e conclusions. But this, I t h i n k , w o u l d be a mistaken w a y of
going a b o u t o u r business. W h a t w e require is n o t so m u c h a
definition of politics from which t o d e d u c e the c h a r a c t e r of political
e d u c a t i o n , as an u n d e r s t a n d i n g of political activity which includes a
recognition of the sort of education it involves. For, to u n d e r s t a n d
a n activity is t o k n o w it as a concrete w h o l e ; it is t o recognize the
activity as h a v i n g the source of its m o v e m e n t w i t h i n itself. An
u n d e r s t a n d i n g which leaves the activity in debt t o s o m e t h i n g
outside itself is, for t h a t r e a s o n , an i n a d e q u a t e u n d e r s t a n d i n g . A n d
if political activity is impossible w i t h o u t a certain k i n d of k n o w l
edge a n d a certain sort of education, t h e n this k n o w l e d g e a n d
education are n o t mere appendages to the activity b u t are p a r t of
Michael Oakeshott 221
the activity itself a n d m u s t be incorporated in our understanding of
it. W e s h o u l d n o t , therefore, seek a definition of politics in order to
deduce from it the character of political knowledge and education,
but r a t h e r observe the kind of knowledge and education which is
inherent in any u n d e r s t a n d i n g of political activity, and use this
observation as a m e a n s of improving o u r understanding of politics.
M y p r o p o s a l , then, is to consider the adequacy of t w o current
u n d e r s t a n d i n g s of politics, together with the sort of knowledge and
k i n d of e d u c a t i o n they imply, a n d by improving u p o n them to reach
w h a t m a y p e r h a p s be a m o r e a d e q u a t e understanding at once of
political activity itself and the knowledge and education which
belongs to it.
In the u n d e r s t a n d i n g of some people, politics are w h a t may be

called an empirical activity. Attending to the arrangements of a
society is w a k i n g u p each m o r n i n g a n d considering, ' W h a t would I
like to d o ? ' or ' W h a t w o u l d somebody else (whom I desire to
please) like to see d o n e ? ' , and doing it. This understanding of
political activity m a y be called politics w i t h o u t a policy. O n the
briefest inspection it will a p p e a r a concept of politics difficult to
s u b s t a n t i a t e ; it does not look like a possible m a n n e r of activity at
all. But a n e a r a p p r o a c h t o it is, perhaps, to be detected in the
politics of the proverbial oriental despot, or in the politics of the
wall-scribbler a n d the vote-catcher. And the result may be supposed
t o be c h a o s modified by whatever consistency is allowed to creep
i n t o caprice. They are the politics attributed t o the first Lord
Liverpool, of w h o m Acton said, 'The secret of his policy was that
h e h a d n o n e ' , a n d of w h o m a Frenchman remarked that if he had
been present at the creation of the world he w o u l d have said, ' M o «
Dieu, conservons le chaos'. It seems, then, that a concrete activity,
which m a y be described as an a p p r o x i m a t i o n to empirical politics,
is possible. But it is clear t h a t , although knowledge of a sort belongs
t o this style of political activity (knowledge, as the French say, not
of ourselves b u t only of o u r appetites), the only kind of education
a p p r o p r i a t e t o it w o u l d be an education in lunacy - learning to be
ruled solely by passing desires. A n d this reveals the important
p o i n t ; n a m e l y , t h a t t o u n d e r s t a n d politics as a purely empirical
activity is t o m i s u n d e r s t a n d it, because empiricism by itself is not a
concrete m a n n e r of activity at all, and can become a partner in a
concrete m a n n e r of activity only w h e n it is joined with something
else - in science, for e x a m p l e , w h e n it is joined with hypothesis.
W h a t is significant a b o u t this understanding of politics is not that
s o m e s o r t of a p p r o a c h t o it can a p p e a r , but t h a t it mistakes for a
concrete, self-moved m a n n e r of activity w h a t is never m o r e t h a n an
abstract m o m e n t in any m a n n e r of being active. Of course, politics
are the pursuit of w h a t is desired a n d of w h a t is desired at the
m o m e n t ; but precisely because they are this, they can never be the
p u r s u i t of merely w h a t r e c o m m e n d s itself from m o m e n t to
m o m e n t . T h e activity of desiring does n o t take this c o u r s e ; caprice
is never absolute. From a practical point of view, then, w e may
decry the style of politics which a p p r o x i m a t e s to pure empiricism
because we can observe in it an a p p r o a c h to lunacy. But from a
theoretical point of view, purely empirical politics are n o t some
thing difficult to achieve or p r o p e r t o be avoided, they are merely
impossible; the p r o d u c t of a m i s u n d e r s t a n d i n g .
T h e u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics as an empirical activity is, then,

i n a d e q u a t e because it fails to reveal a concrete m a n n e r of activity at
all. A n d it has the incidental defect of seeming t o encourage the
thoughtless to p u r s u e a style of a t t e n d i n g to the a r r a n g e m e n t s of
their society which is likely t o have u n f o r t u n a t e results; to try to d o
something which is inherently impossible is always a c o r r u p t i n g
enterprise. W e m u s t , if we can, improve u p o n it. And the impulse t o
i m p r o v e m a y be given a direction by asking, ' W h a t is it t h a t this
u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics has neglected t o observe?' W h a t (to put it
crudely) has it left out w h i c h , if a d d e d in, w o u l d c o m p o s e an
u n d e r s t a n d i n g in which politics are revealed as a self-moved (or
concrete) m a n n e r of activity? And the a n s w e r t o the question is, or
seems t o be, available as s o o n as the question is f o r m u l a t e d . It
w o u l d a p p e a r t h a t w h a t this u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics lacks is
s o m e t h i n g t o set empiricism t o w o r k , s o m e t h i n g to c o r r e s p o n d w i t h
specific hypothesis in science, an end to be p u r s u e d m o r e extensive
t h a n a merely instant desire. A n d this, it should be observed, is n o t
merely a g o o d c o m p a n i o n for empiricism; it is something w i t h o u t
w h i c h empiricism in action is impossible. Let us e x p l o r e this
suggestion, a n d in o r d e r t o bring it t o a point I will state it in t h e
form of a p r o p o s i t i o n : t h a t politics a p p e a r as a self-moved m a n n e r
of activity w h e n empiricism is preceded a n d guided by a n ideologi
cal activity. I a m n o t concerned with the so-called ideological style
of politics as a desirable o r undesirable m a n n e r of a t t e n d i n g t o the
a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society; I a m concerned only w i t h the c o n t e n t i o n
t h a t w h e n t o the ineluctable element of empiricism (doing w h a t o n e
w a n t s t o do) is a d d e d a political ideology, a self-moved m a n n e r of
activity a p p e a r s , a n d t h a t consequently this m a y be regarded in
principle as an a d e q u a t e u n d e r s t a n d i n g of political activity.
As I u n d e r s t a n d it, a political ideology p u r p o r t s t o be an a b s t r a c t
principle, o r set of related abstract principles, which has been
independently premeditated. It supplies in advance of the activity of
a t t e n d i n g to the arrangements of a society a formulated end to be
p u r s u e d , a n d in so d o i n g it provides a means of distinguishing
between those desires which o u g h t to be encouraged and those
which o u g h t to be suppressed or redirected.
T h e simplest sort of political ideology is a single abstract idea,
such as F r e e d o m , Equality, M a x i m u m Productivity, Racial Purity,
or H a p p i n e s s . A n d in t h a t case political activity is understood as the
enterprise of seeing that the arrangements of a society conform to
or reflect the chosen abstract idea. It is usual, however, to recognize
the need for a complex scheme of related ideas, rather than a single
idea, a n d the examples pointed to will be such systems of ideas as:
'the principles of 1 7 8 9 ' , 'Liberalism', 'Democracy', ' M a r x i s m ' , or
the Atlantic Charter. These principles need not be considered
absolute or i m m u n e from change (though they are frequently so
considered), but their value lies in their having been premeditated.
T h e y c o m p o s e an understanding of what is to be pursued indepen
d e n t of how it is to be pursued. A political ideology purports to
supply in a d v a n c e k n o w l e d g e of w h a t 'Freedom' or 'Democracy' or
'Justice' is, a n d in this m a n n e r sets empiricism to work. Such a set
of principles is, of course, capable of being argued about and
reflected u p o n ; it is something that men compose for themselves,
a n d they m a y later r e m e m b e r it or write it d o w n . But the condition
u p o n which it can perform the service assigned to it is that it owes
n o t h i n g t o the activity it controls. ' T o k n o w the true good of the
c o m m u n i t y is w h a t constitutes the science of legislation,' said
B e n t h a m ; 'the art consists in finding the means to realize that good.'
T h e c o n t e n t i o n we have before us, then, is that empiricism can be
set t o w o r k (and a concrete, self-moved manner of activity appear)
w h e n there is a d d e d t o it a guide of this sort: desire and something
n o t generated by desire.
N o w , there is n o d o u b t about the sort of knowledge which
political activity, u n d e r s t o o d in this manner, calls upon. W h a t is
required, in the first place, is knowledge of the chosen political
ideology - a k n o w l e d g e of the ends to be pursued, a knowledge of
w h a t w e w a n t to d o . Of course, if we are to be successful in
p u r s u i n g these ends w e shall need knowledge of another sort also -
a k n o w l e d g e , shall we say, of economics and psychology. But the
c o m m o n characteristic of all the kinds of knowledge required is
t h a t they m a y be, and s h o u l d be, gathered in advance of the activity
of a t t e n d i n g t o the arrangements of a society. Moreover, the
a p p r o p r i a t e sort of education will be an education in which the
chosen political ideology is taught and learned, in which the
techniques necessary for success are acquired, a n d (if we are so
u n f o r t u n a t e as t o find ourselves e m p t y - h a n d e d in t h e m a t t e r of an
ideology) an education in the skill of abstract t h o u g h t a n d
p r e m e d i t a t i o n necessary t o c o m p o s e o n e for ourselves. T h e edu
cation we shall need is one which enables us t o e x p o u n d , defend,
implement, a n d possibly invent a political ideology.
In casting a r o u n d for s o m e convincing d e m o n s t r a t i o n t h a t this
u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics reveals a self-moved m a n n e r of activity,
w e should n o d o u b t consider ourselves r e w a r d e d if w e could find an
e x a m p l e of politics being conducted precisely in this m a n n e r . This
at least w o u l d constitute a sign t h a t w e w e r e on the right track. T h e
defect, it will be r e m e m b e r e d , of the u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics as a
purely empirical activity w a s t h a t it revealed, not a m a n n e r of
activity at all, b u t an abstraction; a n d this defect m a d e itself
manifest in o u r inability to find a style of politics w h i c h w a s
a n y t h i n g m o r e t h a n an a p p r o x i m a t i o n to it. H o w does the
u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics as empiricism joined with an ideology fare
in this respect? A n d w i t h o u t being over-confident, w e may p e r h a p s
think t h a t this is w h e r e w e w a d e ashore. F o r we w o u l d a p p e a r to be
in n o difficulty w h a t e v e r in finding an e x a m p l e of political activity
which c o r r e s p o n d s t o this u n d e r s t a n d i n g of it: half the w o r l d , at a
conservative estimate, seems to c o n d u c t its affairs in precisely this
m a n n e r . And further, is it n o t so manifestly a possible style of
politics t h a t , even if w e disagree with a particular ideology, w e find
n o t h i n g technically a b s u r d in the writings of those w h o urge it u p o n
us as a n a d m i r a b l e style of politics? At least its advocates seem to
k n o w w h a t they are talking a b o u t : they u n d e r s t a n d n o t only the
m a n n e r of the activity b u t also the sort of k n o w l e d g e a n d the kind
of e d u c a t i o n it involves. 'Every s c h o o l b o y in Russia', w r o t e Sir
N o r m a n Angel, 'is familiar with the doctrine of M a r x a n d c a n
recite its catechism. H o w m a n y British schoolboys have any
c o r r e s p o n d i n g k n o w l e d g e of the principles enunciated by Mill in
his i n c o m p a r a b l e essay o n Liberty?' 'Few people', says M r E. H .
C a r r , ' a n y longer contest the thesis t h a t the child should be
educated in the official ideology of his c o u n t r y . ' In short, if w e are
looking for a sign t o indicate that the u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics as
empirical activity preceded by ideological activity is an a d e q u a t e
u n d e r s t a n d i n g , w e can scarcely be mistaken in s u p p o s i n g t h a t w e
h a v e it t o h a n d .
A n d yet there is p e r h a p s r o o m for d o u b t : d o u b t first of all
w h e t h e r in principle this u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics reveals a self-
m o v e d m a n n e r of activity; a n d d o u b t , consequentially, w h e t h e r
w h a t h a v e been identified as examples of a style of politics
c o r r e s p o n d i n g exactly t o this understanding have been properly
indentified.
T h e c o n t e n t i o n we are investigating is that attending to the
a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society can begin with a premeditated ideology,
can begin w i t h independently acquired knowledge of the ends to be
1
p u r s u e d . It is s u p p o s e d t h a t a political ideology is the product of
intellectual p r e m e d i t a t i o n and that, because it is a body of
principles n o t itself in d e b t to the activity of attending to the
a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society, it is able to determine and guide the
direction of t h a t activity. If, however, we consider more closely
the c h a r a c t e r of a political ideology, we find at once that this
supposition is falsified. So far from a political ideology being the
quasi-divine p a r e n t of political activity, it turns out to be its earthly
stepchild. Instead of an independently premeditated scheme of ends
to be p u r s u e d , it is a system of ideas abstracted from the manner in
which p e o p l e h a v e been accustomed to go about the business of
attending to the a r r a n g e m e n t s of their societies. The pedigree of
every political ideology shows it to be the creature, not of
p r e m e d i t a t i o n in advance of political activity, but of meditation
u p o n a m a n n e r of politics. In short, political activity comes first and
a political ideology follows after; and the understanding of politics
we are investigating has the disadvantage of being, in the strict
sense, p r e p o s t e r o u s .
Let us consider the m a t t e r first in relation to scientific hypothesis,
which I h a v e t a k e n t o play a role in scientific activity in some
respects similar to t h a t of an ideology in politics. If a scientific
hypothesis w e r e a self-generated bright idea which owed nothing to
scientific activity, then empiricism governed by hypothesis could be
considered t o c o m p o s e a self-contained manner of activity; but this
certainly is n o t its character. T h e truth is that only a man w h o is
already a scientist can formulate a scientific hypothesis; that is, an
hypothesis is n o t an independent invention capable of guiding
scientific e n q u i r y , but a dependent supposition which arises as an
abstraction from within already existing scientific activity.
M o r e o v e r , even w h e n the specific hypothesis has in this manner
been f o r m u l a t e d , it is inoperative as a guide to research without
c o n s t a n t reference t o the traditions of scientific enquiry from which
it w a s a b s t r a c t e d . T h e concrete situation does not appear until the
specific hypothesis, which is the occasion of empiricism being set to
w o r k , is recognized as itself the creature of knowing h o w to
c o n d u c t a scientific enquiry. , ,
O r consider the e x a m p l e of cookery. It might be supposed that an
ignorant m a n , some edible materials, a n d a cookery b o o k c o m p o s e
together the necessities of a self-moved (or concrete) activity called
c o o k i n g . But n o t h i n g is further from the t r u t h . T h e cookery b o o k is
n o t an independently generated beginning from w h i c h cooking can
spring; it is n o t h i n g m o r e t h a n an abstract of s o m e b o d y ' s k n o w l
edge of h o w t o cook: it is the stepchild, not the p a r e n t of the
activity. T h e b o o k , in its t u r n , may help t o set a m a n o n to dressing
a dinner, but if it were his sole guide h e could never, in fact, begin:
the b o o k speaks only to those w h o k n o w already the kind of thing
t o expect from it a n d consequently h o w t o interpret it.
N o w , just as a cookery b o o k presupposes s o m e b o d y w h o k n o w s
h o w t o cook, and its use presupposes s o m e b o d y w h o already
k n o w s h o w to use it, and just as a scientific hypothesis springs from
a knowledge of h o w to conduct a scientific investigation and separ
ated from that k n o w l e d g e is powerless t o set empiricism profit
ably to w o r k , so a political ideology m u s t be u n d e r s t o o d , n o t as an
independently premeditated beginning for political activity, b u t as
k n o w l e d g e (abstract a n d generalized) of a concrete m a n n e r of
a t t e n d i n g to the a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society. T h e catechism w h i c h
sets o u t the p u r p o s e s to be pursued merely abridges a concrete
m a n n e r of b e h a v i o u r in which those purposes are already h i d d e n . It
d o e s not exist in advance of political activity, a n d by itself it is
always an insufficient guide. Political enterprises, the ends to be
p u r s u e d , the a r r a n g e m e n t s to be established (all the n o r m a l
ingredients of a political ideology), c a n n o t be p r e m e d i t a t e d in
advance of a m a n n e r of attending t o the a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society;
what w e d o , and m o r e o v e r w h a t we w a n t to d o , is the creature of
how we are a c c u s t o m e d to conduct o u r affairs. Indeed, it often
reflects n o m o r e t h a n a discovered ability t o d o s o m e t h i n g w h i c h is
then translated into an a u t h o r i t y t o d o it.
O n 4 August 1 7 8 9 , for the complex and b a n k r u p t social a n d
political system of France w a s substituted the Rights of M a n .
R e a d i n g this d o c u m e n t we c o m e to the conclusion that s o m e b o d y
has d o n e some thinking. H e r e , displayed in a few sentences, is a
political ideology: a system of rights a n d duties, a scheme of e n d s -
justice, freedom, equality, security, p r o p e r t y , and the rest — ready
a n d waiting to be p u t into practice for the first time. 'For the first
time?' N o t a bit of it. This ideology n o m o r e existed in advance of
political practice t h a n a cookery b o o k exists in advance of k n o w i n g
h o w to c o o k . Certainly it w a s the p r o d u c t of s o m e b o d y ' s reflection,
b u t it w a s n o t the p r o d u c t of reflection in advance of political
activity. For here, in fact, are disclosed, abstracted a n d abridged,
the c o m m o n law rights of Englishmen, the gift n o t of independent
premeditation or divine munificence, b u t of centuries of the day-to
day attending to the a r r a n g e m e n t s of an historic society. O r
consider Locke's Second Treatise of Civil Government, read in
America a n d in F r a n c e in the eighteenth century as a statement of
abstract principles to be p u t into practice, regarded there as a
preface to political activity. But so far from being a preface, it has
all the m a r k s of a postscript, a n d its p o w e r to guide derived from its
roots in actual political experience. H e r e , set d o w n in abstract
terms, is a brief c o n s p e c t u s of the m a n n e r in which Englishmen
were a c c u s t o m e d to go a b o u t the business of attending to their
arrangements - a brilliant a b r i d g m e n t of the political habits of
Englishmen. O r consider this passage from a contemporary con
tinental writer: ' F r e e d o m keeps E u r o p e a n s in unrest and move
ment. They wish t o h a v e freedom, a n d at the same time they k n o w
they have n o t got it. T h e y k n o w also t h a t freedom belongs to man
as a h u m a n right.' And h a v i n g established the end to be pursued,
political activity is represented as the realization of this end. But the
'freedom' w h i c h can be p u r s u e d is n o t an independently premedi
tated 'ideal' o r a d r e a m ; like scientific hypothesis, it is something
which is already i n t i m a t e d in a concrete m a n n e r of behaving.
Freedom, like a recipe for g a m e pie, is n o t a bright idea; it is not a
' h u m a n right' t o be d e d u c e d from some speculative concept of
h u m a n n a t u r e . T h e freedom which w e enjoy is nothing more than
arrangements, p r o c e d u r e s of a certain kind: the freedom of an
Englishman is n o t s o m e t h i n g exemplified in the procedure of
habeas corpus, it is, at t h a t p o i n t , the availability of that procedure.
And the freedom w h i c h w e wish to enjoy is n o t an 'ideal' which we
premeditate i n d e p e n d e n t l y of o u r political experience, it is w h a t is
2
already i n t i m a t e d in t h a t e x p e r i e n c e .
^ O n this reading, t h e n , the systems of abstract ideas we call
'ideologies' are abstracts of s o m e kind of concrete activity. M o s t
political ideologies, a n d certainly the most useful of them (because
they u n q u e s t i o n a b l y h a v e their use), are abstracts of the political
traditions of s o m e society. But it sometimes happens that an
ideology is offered as a guide t o politics which is a n abstract, n o t of
political experience, b u t of s o m e o t h e r m a n n e r of activity - war,
religion, o r the c o n d u c t of industry, for e x a m p l e . And here the
model w e are s h o w n is n o t only abstract, but is also inappropriate
on account of the irrelevance of the activity from which it has been
abstracted. T h i s , I t h i n k , is o n e of t h e defects of the model provided
by the M a r x i s t ideology. But the i m p o r t a n t point is that, at most,
an ideology is an a b b r e v i a t i o n of s o m e m a n n e r of concrete activity.
W e are n o w , p e r h a p s , in a position t o perceive more accurately
the character of w h a t m a y be called the ideological style of politics,
a n d t o observe t h a t its existence offers n o g r o u n d for supposing
t h a t the u n d e r s t a n d i n g of political activity as empiricism guided
solely by an ideology is an a d e q u a t e u n d e r s t a n d i n g . T h e ideological
style of politics is a confused style. Properly s p e a k i n g , it is a
t r a d i t i o n a l m a n n e r of a t t e n d i n g t o the a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society
w h i c h has been a b r i d g e d i n t o a doctrine of ends t o be p u r s u e d , the
a b r i d g m e n t (together w i t h the necessary technical knowledge)
being erroneously r e g a r d e d as the sole guide relied u p o n . In certain
circumstances an a b r i d g m e n t of this k i n d m a y b e v a l u a b l e ; it gives
s h a r p n e s s of outline a n d precision to a political t r a d i t i o n which the
occasion may m a k e seem a p p r o p r i a t e . W h e n a m a n n e r of a t t e n d i n g
t o a r r a n g e m e n t s is t o be t r a n s p l a n t e d from the society in which it
has g r o w n u p into a n o t h e r society (always a q u e s t i o n a b l e enter
prise), the simplification of a n ideology m a y a p p e a r as a n asset. If,
for e x a m p l e , the English m a n n e r of politics is t o be planted
elsewhere in the w o r l d , it is p e r h a p s a p p r o p r i a t e t h a t it s h o u l d first
be abridged into s o m e t h i n g called ' d e m o c r a c y ' before it is p a c k e d
u p a n d shipped a b r o a d . T h e r e is, of c o u r s e , a n alternative m e t h o d :
the m e t h o d by which w h a t is e x p o r t e d is the detail a n d n o t the
a b r i d g m e n t of the t r a d i t i o n a n d the w o r k m e n travel w i t h t h e tools
- the m e t h o d which m a d e the British E m p i r e . But it is a slow a n d
costly m e t h o d . A n d , particularly w i t h m e n in a h u r r y , I'homme a
programme w i t h his a b r i d g m e n t wins every t i m e ; his slogans
e n c h a n t , while the resident magistrate is seen only as a sign of
servility. But w h a t e v e r the a p p a r e n t a p p r o p r i a t e n e s s o n occasion of
the ideological style of politics, the defect of the e x p l a n a t i o n of
political activity connected with it b e c o m e s a p p a r e n t w h e n we
consider the sort of k n o w l e d g e a n d t h e k i n d of e d u c a t i o n it
encourages us to believe is sufficient for u n d e r s t a n d i n g the activity
of a t t e n d i n g t o the a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society. F o r it suggests t h a t a
k n o w l e d g e of the chosen political ideology can t a k e the place of
u n d e r s t a n d i n g a tradition of political b e h a v i o u r . T h e w a n d a n d the
b o o k c o m e to be regarded as themselves p o t e n t , a n d n o t merely the
symbols of potency. T h e a r r a n g e m e n t s of a society are m a d e to
a p p e a r , not as m a n n e r s of b e h a v i o u r , b u t as pieces of machinery to
be t r a n s p o r t e d a b o u t the w o r l d indiscriminately. T h e complexities
of the tradition which have been squeezed o u t in the process of
a b r i d g m e n t are t a k e n t o b e u n i m p o r t a n t : the 'rights of m a n ' are
u n d e r s t o o d t o exist insulated from a m a n n e r of a t t e n d i n g to
a r r a n g e m e n t s . A n d because, in practice, t h e a b r i d g m e n t is never by
itself a sufficient guide, w e are e n c o u r a g e d t o fill it o u t , n o t w i t h o u r
suspect political experience, b u t with experience d r a w n from o t h e r
(often irrelevant) concretely u n d e r s t o o d activities, such as w a r , the
conduct of industry, or t r a d e u n i o n n e g o t i a t i o n .
The u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics as the activity of a t t e n d i n g to the

arrangements of a society u n d e r the g u i d a n c e of a n independently
premeditated ideology is, t h e n , n o less a m i s u n d e r s t a n d i n g t h a n the
understanding of it as a p u r e l y empirical activity. W h e r e v e r else
politics may begin, they c a n n o t begin in ideological activity. A n d in
an attempt to i m p r o v e u p o n this u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics, w e have
already observed in principle w h a t needs to be recognized in o r d e r
to have an intelligent c o n c e p t . Just as scientific hypothesis c a n n o t
appear, and is impossible t o o p e r a t e , except w i t h i n an already
existing tradition of scientific investigation, so a s c h e m e of e n d s for
political activity a p p e a r s w i t h i n , a n d can be e v a l u a t e d only w h e n it
is related t o , a n already existing t r a d i t i o n of h o w t o a t t e n d t o o u r
arrangements. In politics, t h e only concrete m a n n e r of activity
detectable is o n e in w h i c h e m p i r i c i s m a n d the e n d s t o be p u r s u e d
are recognized as d e p e n d e n t , alike for their existence a n d their
operation, u p o n a t r a d i t i o n a l m a n n e r of b e h a v i o u r .
Politics is the activity of a t t e n d i n g to the general a r r a n g e m e n t s of
a collection of p e o p l e w h o , in respect of their c o m m o n recognition
of a m a n n e r of a t t e n d i n g t o its a r r a n g e m e n t s , c o m p o s e a single
community. T o s u p p o s e a collection of p e o p l e w i t h o u t recognized
traditions of b e h a v i o u r , o r o n e w h i c h enjoyed a r r a n g e m e n t s w h i c h
intimated n o direction for c h a n g e a n d needed n o a t t e n t i o n , is t o
suppose a p e o p l e i n c a p a b l e of politics. T h i s activity, then, springs
neither from i n s t a n t desires, n o r from general principles, b u t from
the existing t r a d i t i o n s of b e h a v i o u r themselves. A n d the form it
takes, because it can t a k e n o o t h e r , is the a m e n d m e n t of existing
arrangements by e x p l o r i n g a n d p u r s u i n g w h a t is i n t i m a t e d in t h e m .
The a r r a n g e m e n t s w h i c h c o n s t i t u t e a society c a p a b l e of political
activity, w h e t h e r they are c u s t o m s o r institutions or laws or
diplomatic decisions, are a t o n c e c o h e r e n t a n d i n c o h e r e n t ; they
compose a p a t t e r n a n d a t t h e s a m e t i m e they i n t i m a t e a s y m p a t h y
for w h a t does n o t fully a p p e a r . Political activity is the e x p l o r a t i o n
of that s y m p a t h y ; a n d c o n s e q u e n t l y , relevant political r e a s o n i n g
will be the convincing e x p o s u r e of a s y m p a t h y , p r e s e n t b u t n o t yet
followed u p , a n d the c o n v i n c i n g d e m o n s t r a t i o n t h a t n o w is the
appropriate m o m e n t for recognizing it. For e x a m p l e , the legal
status of w o m e n in o u r society w a s for a long time (and p e r h a p s
still is) in c o m p a r a t i v e c o n f u s i o n , b e c a u s e t h e rights a n d duties
which c o m p o s e d it i n t i m a t e d rights a n d duties w h i c h w e r e never
theless n o t recognized. A n d , o n t h e v i e w of things I a m suggesting,
the only cogent reason t o be advanced for the technical
'enfranchisement' of w o m e n w a s t h a t in all o r most other impor
t a n t respects they h a d already been enfranchised. A r g u m e n t s d r a w n
from abstract n a t u r a l right, from 'justice', or from some general
concept of feminine personality, m u s t be regarded as either
irrelevant, or as unfortunately disguised forms of the one valid
a r g u m e n t ; namely, t h a t there was an incoherence in the arrange
ments of the society which pressed convincingly for remedy. In
politics, then, every enterprise is a consequential enterprise, the
pursuit, n o t of a d r e a m , or of a general principle, b u t of an
intimation. W h a t w e have to d o with is s o m e t h i n g less imposing
t h a n logical implications or necessary consequences: b u t if the
intimations of a tradition of behaviour are less dignified o r m o r e
elusive than these, they are not on t h a t a c c o u n t less i m p o r t a n t . Of
course, there is n o piece of mistake-proof a p p a r a t u s by means of
which we can elicit the intimation most w o r t h w h i l e p u r s u i n g ; a n d
n o t only d o we often m a k e gross errors of judgement in this matter,
but also the total effect of a desire satisfied is so little t o be forecast,
t h a t o u r activity of a m e n d m e n t is often found to lead us w h e r e w e
w o u l d n o t go. M o r e o v e r , the w h o l e enterprise is liable at any
m o m e n t to be perverted by the incursion of an a p p r o x i m a t i o n to
empiricism in the pursuit of p o w e r . These are features w h i c h can
never be eliminated; they belong t o the character of political
activity. But it may be believed t h a t o u r mistakes of u n d e r s t a n d i n g
will be less frequent a n d less disastrous if w e escape the illusion t h a t
politics is ever a n y t h i n g m o r e t h a n the pursuit of i n t i m a t i o n s ; a
conversion, n o t a n a r g u m e n t .
N o w , every society which is intellectually alive is liable, from
t i m e t o time, t o abridge its tradition of b e h a v i o u r into a scheme of
abstract ideas; a n d o n occasion political discussion will be con
cerned, n o t (like the debates in the Iliad) with isolated transactions,
n o r (like the speeches in Thucydides) w i t h policies and traditions of
activity, b u t with general principles. A n d in this there is n o h a r m ;
p e r h a p s even s o m e positive benefit. It is possible t h a t the distorting
m i r r o r of an ideology will reveal i m p o r t a n t hidden passages in the
tradition, as a caricature reveals the potentialities of a face; a n d if
this is so, the intellectual enterprise of seeing w h a t a tradition looks
like w h e n it is reduced t o a n ideology will be a useful p a r t of
political e d u c a t i o n . But t o m a k e use of a b r i d g m e n t as a technique
for exploring the intimations of a political tradition, t o use it, t h a t
is, as a scientist uses hypothesis, is one thing; it is s o m e t h i n g
different, a n d something i n a p p r o p r i a t e , t o u n d e r s t a n d political
activity itself as the activity of a m e n d i n g the a r r a n g e m e n t s of a
society so as t o m a k e t h e m agree with the provisions of an ideology.
For then a c h a r a c t e r has been attributed to an ideology which it is
unable to sustain, a n d w e m a y find ourselves, in practice, directed
by a false a n d a misleading guide: false, because in the abridgment,
however skilfully it has been performed, a single intimation is apt to
be exaggerated a n d p r o p o s e d for unconditional pursuit and the
benefit to be h a d from observing w h a t the distortion reveals is lost
when the distortion itself is given the office of a criterion;
misleading, because the a b r i d g m e n t itself never, in fact, provides
the whole of the k n o w l e d g e used in political activity.
There will be s o m e people w h o , though in general agreement
with this u n d e r s t a n d i n g of political activity, will suspect that it
confuses w h a t is, p e r h a p s , n o r m a l with w h a t is necessary, and that
i m p o r t a n t exceptions (of great contemporary relevance) have been
lost in a hazy generality. It is all very well, it may be said, to observe
in politics the activity of exploring and pursuing the intimations of
a tradition of b e h a v i o u r , b u t w h a t light does this throw upon a
political crisis such as the N o r m a n Conquest of England, or the
establishment of the Soviet regime in Russia? It would be foolish, of
course, to d e n y the possibility of serious political crisis. But if we
exclude (as w e must) a genuine cataclysm which for the time being
m a d e an end of politics by altogether obliterating a current
tradition of b e h a v i o u r (which is not w h a t happened in Anglo-
4
Saxon E n g l a n d or in R u s s i a ) , there is little to support the view that
even the m o s t serious political upheaval carries us outside this
u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics. A tradition of behaviour is not a fixed
and inflexible m a n n e r of d o i n g things; it is a flow of sympathy. It
may be t e m p o r a r i l y disrupted by the incursion of a foreign
influence, it m a y be diverted, restricted, arrested, or become dried-
u p , a n d it m a y reveal so deep-seated an incoherence that (even
w i t h o u t foreign assistance) a crisis appears. And if, in order to meet
these crises, there w e r e s o m e steady, unchanging, independent
guide to which a society-might resort, it would n o doubt be well
advised to d o so. But n o such guide exists; we have no resources
outside the fragments, t h e vestiges, the relics of its o w n tradition of
behaviour w h i c h the crisis h a s left untouched. For even the help we
may get from the t r a d i t i o n s of a n o t h e r society (or from a tradition
of a vaguer sort w h i c h is shared by a n u m b e r of societies) is
conditional u p o n o u r being able to assimilate them to our own
a r r a n g e m e n t s . T h e h u n g r y a n d helpless m a n is mistaken if he
supposes t h a t h e o v e r c o m e s the crisis by means of a tin-opener:
w h a t saves h i m is s o m e b o d y else's knowledge of h o w t o cook,
which he c a n m a k e use of only because he is n o t himself entirely
i g n o r a n t . In short, political crisis (even w h e n it seems to be imposed
u p o n a society by changes beyond its control) always a p p e a r s
within a tradition of political activity; a n d 'salvation' comes from
the u n i m p a i r e d resources of the tradition itself. Those societies
which retain, in changing circumstances, a lively sense of their o w n
- identity a n d continuity (which are w i t h o u t that h a t r e d of their o w n
experience which m a k e s t h e m desire to efface it) are t o be counted
fortunate, n o t because they possess w h a t others lack, b u t because
they h a v e already mobilized w h a t n o n e is w i t h o u t a n d all, in fact,
rely u p o n .
In political activity, then, men sail a boundless a n d bottomless
sea; there is neither h a r b o u r for shelter n o r floor for a n c h o r a g e ,
neither starting-place n o r appointed destination. T h e enterprise is
t o keep afloat o n a n even keel; the sea is both friend a n d e n e m y ;
a n d the s e a m a n s h i p consists in using the resources of a traditional
m a n n e r of behaviour in order to m a k e a friend of every hostile
5
occasion.
A depressing doctrine, it will be said — even by those w h o d o n o t
m a k e the mistake of a d d i n g in an element of crude determinism
w h i c h , in fact, it has n o place for. A tradition of behaviour is n o t a
g r o o v e within which w e are destined to grind out o u r helpless a n d
unsatisfying lives: Spartam nactus es; hanc exorna. But in the m a i n
the depression springs from the exclusion of h o p e s t h a t w e r e false
a n d the discovery that guides, reputed to be of s u p e r h u m a n w i s d o m
a n d skill, are, in fact, of a s o m e w h a t different character. If the
doctrine deprives us of a model laid u p in heaven to which w e
s h o u l d a p p r o x i m a t e o u r behaviour, a t least it does n o t lead us into
a m o r a s s w h e r e every choice is equally good o r equally to be
deplored. And if it suggests t h a t politics are nur fur die Schwindel-
freie, t h a t should depress only those w h o have lost their nerve.
T h e sin of the a c a d e m i c is that he takes so long in c o m i n g t o the

p o i n t . Nevertheless, there is s o m e virtue in his dilatoriness; w h a t he
has to offer m a y , in the e n d , be n o great m a t t e r , b u t at least it is n o t
u n r i p e fruit, a n d t o pluck it is the w o r k of a m o m e n t . W e set o u t to
consider the kind of k n o w l e d g e involved in political activity a n d the
a p p r o p r i a t e sort of e d u c a t i o n . And if the u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics I
h a v e r e c o m m e n d e d is n o t a m i s u n d e r s t a n d i n g , there is little d o u b t
a b o u t the k i n d of k n o w l e d g e a n d the sort of e d u c a t i o n w h i c h
belongs t o it. It is k n o w l e d g e , as p r o f o u n d as w e can m a k e it, of o u r
t r a d i t i o n of political b e h a v i o u r . O t h e r k n o w l e d g e , certainly, is
desirable in a d d i t i o n ; b u t this is the k n o w l e d g e w i t h o u t which w e
c a n n o t m a k e use of w h a t e v e r else we m a y have learned.
N o w , a t r a d i t i o n of behaviour is a tricky thing to get to know.
Indeed, it m a y even a p p e a r to be essentially unintelligible. It is
neither fixed n o r finished; it has n o changeless centre to which
u n d e r s t a n d i n g c a n a n c h o r itself; there is n o sovereign purpose to be
perceived o r invariable direction to be detected; there is no model
to be copied, idea t o be realized, or rule to be followed. Some parts
of it may c h a n g e m o r e slowly than others, but none is immune from
change. Everything is t e m p o r a r y . Nevertheless, though a tradition
of behaviour is flimsy a n d elusive; it is not without identity, and
w h a t m a k e s it a possible object of knowledge is the fact that all its
parts d o n o t c h a n g e at t h e same time and t h a t the changes it
undergoes are potential within it. Its principle is a principle of
continuity: a u t h o r i t y is diffused between past, present, and future;
between the old, the n e w , a n d w h a t is to come. It is steady because,
though it m o v e s , it is never wholly in motion; and though it is
6
tranquil, it is never w h o l l y at r e s t . N o t h i n g that ever belonged to it
is completely lost; w e are always swerving back to recover and
m a k e s o m e t h i n g topical o u t of even its remotest moments: and
nothing for long r e m a i n s unmodified. Everything is temporary, but
nothing is a r b i t r a r y . Everything figures by comparison, not with
w h a t stands n e x t t o it, b u t with the w h o l e . And since a tradition of
behaviour is n o t susceptible of the distinction between essence and
accident, k n o w l e d g e of it is unavoidably knowledge of its detail: to
k n o w only the gist is to k n o w nothing. W h a t has to be learned is
not a n a b s t r a c t idea, o r a set of tricks, n o t even a ritual, b u t a
concrete, c o h e r e n t m a n n e r of living in all its intricateness.
It is clear, t h e n , t h a t w e m u s t n o t entertain the hope of acquiring
this difficult u n d e r s t a n d i n g by easy m e t h o d s . T h o u g h the knowl
edge we see is m u n i c i p a l , n o t universal, there is n o short cut to it.
Moreover, political e d u c a t i o n is not merely a matter of coming to
understand a t r a d i t i o n , it is learning h o w to participate in a
conversation: it is a t o n c e initiation into an inheritance in which we
have a life interest, a n d the exploration of its intimations. There
will always r e m a i n s o m e t h i n g of a mystery about h o w a tradition of
political b e h a v i o u r is learned, a n d p e r h a p s the only certainty is that
there is n o p o i n t at w h i c h learning it can properly be said to begin.
The politics of a c o m m u n i t y are n o t less individual (and not more
so) t h a n its l a n g u a g e , a n d they are learned and practised in the same
manner. W e d o n o t begin t o learn o u r native language by learning
the alphabet, o r by l e a r n i n g its g r a m m a r ; we d o not begin by
learning w o r d s , b u t w o r d s in use; w e d o not begin (as we begin in
reading) with w h a t is easy a n d go o n to w h a t is m o r e difficult; we
do n o t begin a t s c h o o l , b u t in the cradle; a n d w h a t we say springs
always from o u r m a n n e r of speaking. A n d this is true also of o u r
political education; it begins in the enjoyment of a tradition, in the
observation and imitation of the behaviour of o u r elders, a n d there
is little o r n o t h i n g in the w o r l d which comes before us as w e open
o u r eyes which does not contribute to it. W e are a w a r e of a past a n d
a future as s o o n as w e are a w a r e of a present. Long before w e are of
an age to take interest in a b o o k a b o u t o u r politics w e are acquiring
t h a t complex a n d intricate k n o w l e d g e of o u r political t r a d i t i o n
w i t h o u t which w e could n o t m a k e sense of a b o o k w h e n we c o m e
t o o p e n it. And the projects we entertain are the creatures of o u r
t r a d i t i o n . The greater p a r t , then - p e r h a p s the m o s t i m p o r t a n t p a r t
- of o u r political education we acquire h a p h a z a r d in finding o u r
w a y a b o u t the natural-artificial w o r l d into which w e are b o r n , a n d
there is n o o t h e r w a y of acquiring it. T h e r e will, of course, be m o r e
to acquire, a n d it will be m o r e readily acquired, if w e have the g o o d
fortune to be b o r n into a rich and lively political t r a d i t i o n a n d
a m o n g those w h o are well educated politically; the lineaments of
political activity will earlier become distinct: b u t even the m o s t
needy society a n d the m o s t c r a m p e d s u r r o u n d i n g s have some
political education t o offer, a n d we t a k e w h a t we can get.
But if this is the m a n n e r of o u r beginning, there are deeper
recesses to explore. Politics are a p r o p e r subject for academic s t u d y ;
there is s o m e t h i n g t o think a b o u t and it is i m p o r t a n t t h a t w e s h o u l d
think a b o u t the a p p r o p r i a t e things. H e r e also, a n d everywhere, the
governing consideration is that w h a t we are learning to u n d e r s t a n d
is a political tradition, a concrete m a n n e r of b e h a v i o u r . A n d for this
reason it is p r o p e r t h a t , at the academic level, the study of politics
should be an historical study - not, in the first place, hecause it is
p r o p e r to be concerned with the past, b u t because w e need to be
concerned with the detail of the concrete. It is t r u e that n o t h i n g
a p p e a r s on the present surface of a tradition of political activity
which has not its roots deep in the past, and that n o t to observe it
c o m i n g into being is often to be denied the clue to its significance;
a n d for this reason genuine historical study is an indispensable p a r t
of a political e d u c a t i o n . But w h a t is equally i m p o r t a n t is n o t w h a t
h a p p e n e d , here o r there, but w h a t p e o p l e have t h o u g h t a n d said
a b o u t w h a t h a p p e n e d : the history, not of political ideas, but of the
m a n n e r of o u r political thinking. Every society, by the underlinings
it m a k e s in the b o o k of its history, c o n s t r u c t s a legend of its o w n
fortunes which it keeps u p to date and in which is hidden its o w n
u n d e r s t a n d i n g of politics; and the historical investigation of this
legend - not to e x p o s e its e r r o r s but to u n d e r s t a n d its prejudices -
m u s t be a pre-eminent p a r t of a political education. It is, then, in the
study of genuine history, a n d of this q u a s i - h i s t o r y w h i c h reveals in

its backward glances the t e n d e n c i e s w h i c h are a f o o t , t h a t w e m a y
hope to escape one of the m o s t insidious c u r r e n t m i s u n d e r s t a n d i n g s
of political activity - the m i s u n d e r s t a n d i n g in w h i c h i n s t i t u t i o n s
and procedures a p p e a r as pieces of m a c h i n e r y d e s i g n e d t o achieve a
putpose settled in a d v a n c e , instead of as m a n n e r s of b e h a v i o u r
which are meaningless w h e n s e p a r a t e d from t h e i r c o n t e x t : t h e
misunderstanding, for e x a m p l e , in w h i c h Mill c o n v i n c e d himself
that something called ' R e p r e s e n t a t i v e G o v e r n m e n t ' w a s a ' f o r m ' of
politics which could be r e g a r d e d as p r o p e r t o any society w h i c h h a d
reached a certain level of w h a t h e called ' c i v i l i z a t i o n ' ; in s h o r t , t h e
misunderstanding in w h i c h w e r e g a r d o u r a r r a n g e m e n t s a n d
institutions as s o m e t h i n g m o r e significant t h a n t h e f o o t p r i n t s of
thinkers and statesmen w h o k n e w w h i c h w a y t o t u r n t h e i r feet
without knowing a n y t h i n g a b o u t a final d e s t i n a t i o n .
Nevertheless, to be c o n c e r n e d only w i t h o n e ' s o w n t r a d i t i o n of
political activity is not e n o u g h . A political e d u c a t i o n w o r t h t h e
name must embrace, also, k n o w l e d g e of the politics of o t h e r
contemporary societies. It m u s t d o this b e c a u s e s o m e at least of o u r
political activity is related t o t h a t of o t h e r p e o p l e ' s , a n d n o t t o
know how they go a b o u t a t t e n d i n g t o their o w n a r r a n g e m e n t s is
not to know the course they will p u r s u e a n d n o t t o k n o w w h a t
resources to call u p o n in o u r o w n t r a d i t i o n ; a n d b e c a u s e t o k n o w
only one's own tradition is n o t t o k n o w even t h a t . But here a g a i n
two observations must be m a d e . We did n o t begin y e s t e r d a y t o
nave relations with o u r n e i g h b o u r s ; a n d w e d o n o t r e q u i r e
constantly to be h u n t i n g o u t s i d e the t r a d i t i o n of o u r politics t o find
some special formula o r s o m e merely ad hoc e x p e d i e n t t o direct
those relations. It is only w h e n wilfully o r negligently w e forget t h e
resources of understanding a n d initiative w h i c h b e l o n g s to o u r
tt n t n a t
L,. ? ' " k e actors w h o h a v e f o r g o t t e n t h e i r p a r t , w e a r e
g a g A n d s e c o n c l l t n e o n l
°h u° ' y' y knowledge worth having
about the politics of a n o t h e r society is t h e s a m e k i n d of k n o w l e d g e
S w e s e e l c
n °f ° u r o w n t r a d i t i o n . H e r e a l s o , la verite reste dans les
n e
^f\ a n d a
c o m p a r a t i v e study of i n s t i t u t i o n s , for e x a m p l e ,
U r e d t h i s w
und ° j ° u l d p r o v i d e only a n illusory sense of h a v i n g
W h a t n e v e r t n e l e
anon? s s r e m a i n s a secret. T h e s t u d v of
^ o t n e r people's politics, like the s t u d y of o u r o w n , s h o u l d be a n
St o i a t r a d i t i o n o f
study* f u • behaviour, not an anatomical
m c h a n i c a l
Andnnl f devices o r the i n v e s t i g a t i o n of a n i d e o l o g y ,
w h e n o u r
way ^ [ s t u d y is of this sort shall w e find o u r s e l v e s in t h e
8 s t l m u l a t e d
others T ^ > b u t n o t i n t o x i c a t e d , by t h e m a n n e r s of
o range the w o r l d in o r d e r t o select t h e ' b e s t ' of t h e
practices and purposes of others (as the eclectic Z e u x i s is said to
have tried to c o m p o s e a figure m o r e beautiful t h a n Helen's by
p u t t i n g together features each notable for its perfection) is a
c o r r u p t i n g enterprise a n d one of the surest ways of losing one's
political balance; but t o investigate the concrete m a n n e r in which
a n o t h e r people goes a b o u t the business of a t t e n d i n g t o its arrange
ments may reveal significant passages in o u r o w n tradition which
might otherwise remain hidden.
T h e r e is a third d e p a r t m e n t in the a c a d e m i c study of politics
which must be considered — w h a t , for w a n t of a better n a m e , 1 shall
call a philosophical study. Reflection on political activity m a y take
place at various levels: we may consider w h a t resources o u r
political tradition offers for dealing w i t h a certain situation, or w e
m a y abridge o u r political experience into a doctrine, which may be
used, as a scientist uses hypothesis, t o explore its i n t i m a t i o n s . But
b e y o n d these, and other m a n n e r s of political thinking, there is a
range of reflection the object of which is t o consider the place of
political activity itself on the m a p of o u r total experience. Reflec
tion of this sort has gone on in every society which is politically
conscious a n d intellectually alive; a n d so far as E u r o p e a n societies
are concerned, the enquiry has uncovered a variety of intellectual
p r o b l e m s which each generation has formulated in its o w n w a y a n d
has tackled with the technical resources at its disposal. And because
political philosophy is not w h a t may be called a 'progressive'
science, a c c u m u l a t i n g solid results and reaching conclusions u p o n
w h i c h further investigation may be based with confidence, its
history is specially i m p o r t a n t : indeed, in a sense, it has n o t h i n g b u t
a history, which is a history of the incoherences philosophers have
detected in c o m m o n ways of thinking a n d the m a n n e r of solution
they h a v e p r o p o s e d , rather than a history of doctrines and systems.
T h e study of this history m a y be s u p p o s e d to have a considerable
place in a political education, and the enterprise of u n d e r s t a n d i n g
the turn which c o n t e m p o r a r y reflection has given t o it, an even
m o r e considerable place. Political philosophy c a n n o t be expected t o
increase o u r ability to be successful in political activity. It will n o t
help us t o distinguish between good a n d b a d political projects; it
has n o p o w e r t o guide or to direct us in the enterprise of p u r s u i n g
t h e intimations of o u r tradition. But the patient analysis of t h e
general ideas which have c o m e t o be connected w i t h political
activity — ideas such as n a t u r e , artifice, r e a s o n , will, law, authority,
obligation, etc. — in so far as it succeeds in removing some of t h e
c r o o k e d n e s s from o u r t h i n k i n g a n d leads to a m o r e economical use
of concepts, is an activity neither t o b e overrated n o r despised. But
it must be u n d e r s t o o d as an explanatory, not a practical, activity,
and if we p u r s u e it, w e m a y hope only to be less often cheated by
a m b i g u o u s s t a t e m e n t and irrelevant argument.
Abeunt studia in mores. The fruits of a political education will
a p p e a r in the m a n n e r in which we think and speak about politics
and p e r h a p s in the m a n n e r in which we conduct our political
activity. T o select items from this prospective harvest must always
be h a z a r d o u s , a n d opinions will differ about what is most impor
tant. But for myself I should hope for two things. The more
p r o f o u n d o u r u n d e r s t a n d i n g of political activity, the less we shall
be at the mercy of plausible b u t mistaken analogy, the less we shall
be tempted by a false or irrelevant model. And the more thoroughly
w e u n d e r s t a n d o u r o w n political tradition, the more readily its
whole resources are available to us, the less likely we shall be to
e m b r a c e the illusions which wait for the ignorant and the unwary:
the illusion t h a t in politics we can get on without a tradition of
behaviour, the illusion t h a t the abridgement of a tradition is itself a
sufficient guide, a n d the illusion that in politics there is anywhere a
safe h a r b o u r , a destination to be reached or even a detectable
s t r a n d of progress. 'The w o r l d is the best of all possible worlds, and
everything in it is a necessary evil.'
NOTES
This is the case, for example, with Natural Law; whether it is taken to be
an explanation of political activity or (improperly) as a guide to political
conduct.
Cf. 'Substantive law has the first look of being gradually secreted in the
interstices of procedure.' Maine, Early Law and Customs, p. 389.
E.g. a society in which law was believed to be a divine gift.
The Russian Revolution (what actually happened in Russia) was not the
implementation of an abstract design worked out by Lenin and others in
Switzerland: it was a modification of Russian circumstances. And the
French Revolution was far more closely connected with the ancien
regime than with Locke or America.
To those who seem to themselves to have a clear view of an immediate
destination (that is, of a condition of human circumstance to be
achieved), and who are confident that this condition is proper to be
imposed upon everybody, this will seem an unduly sceptical understand
ing of political activity; but they may be asked where they have got it
from, and whether they imagine that 'political activity' will come to an
end with the achievement of this condition? And if they agree that some
more distant destination may then be expected to disclose itself, does not
this situation entail an understanding of politics as an open-ended
activity such as 1 have described? Or do they understand politics as
making the necessary arrangements for a set of castaways who have
always in reserve the thought that they are going to be 'rescued?'
A
The critic who found 'some mystical qualities' in this passage leaves me
puzzled: it seems to me an exceedingly matter-of-fact description of the
characteristics of any tradition — the Common Law of England, for
example, the so-called British Constitution, the Christian religion,
modern physics, the game of cricket, shipbuilding.
12
Hannah Arendt: The Revolutionary
Tradition and its Lost Treasure*
• . . 'As C a t o c o n c l u d e d every speech with the words. Carthago

delenda est, so d o I every opinion, with the injunction, "divide the
counties into w a r d s . " T h u s Jefferson once summed up an
exposition of his most cherished political idea, which, alas, turned
out to be as incomprehensible to posterity as it had been to his
c o n t e m p o r a r i e s . T h e reference to C a t o was no idle slip of a tongue
used to Latin q u o t a t i o n s ; it was meant to emphasize that Jefferson
t h o u g h t the absence of such a subdivision of the country consti
tuted a vital t h r e a t t o the very existence of the republic. Just as
R o m e , a c c o r d i n g to C a t o , could not be safe so long as Carthage
existed, so the republic, according to Jefferson, would not be secure
in its very f o u n d a t i o n s w i t h o u t the w a r d system. 'Could I once see
this I should consider it w a s as the dawn of the salvation of the
2
republic, a n d say with old Simeon, " N u n c dimittis Domine." '
H a d Jefferson's plan of 'elementary republics' been carried out, it
w o u l d h a v e exceeded by far the feeble germs of a new form of
g o v e r n m e n t which we are able to detect in the sections of the
Parisian C o m m u n e a n d the popular societies during the French
Revolution. H o w e v e r , if Jefferson's political imagination surpassed
them in insight a n d in scope, his thoughts were still travelling in the
same direction. Both Jefferson's plan and the French soaetes
revolutionnaires anticipated with an almost weird precision those
councils, Soviets a n d Rate, which were to make their appearance m
every genuine revolution t h r o u g h o u t the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries. Each time they appeared, they sprang up as the spon-
*From On Revolution by Hannah Arendt. Copyright © 1963, 1965

by Hannah Arendt. Reprinted by permission of Viking Penguin Inc. Also m
Great Britain by permission of Faber and Faber Ltd.
240 The Revolutionary Tradition and its Lost Treasure
t a n e o u s o r g a n s of the people, not only outside of all revolutionary
parties b u t entirely unexpected by them and their leaders. Like
Jefferson's p r o p o s a l s , they were utterly neglected by statesmen,
historians, political theorists, and, most i m p o r t a n t l y , by the revolu
tionary tradition itself. Even those historians w h o s e sympathies
were clearly o n the side of revolution a n d w h o could n o t help
writing the emergence of p o p u l a r councils into the record of their
story regarded t h e m as n o t h i n g m o r e than essentially t e m p o r a r y
o r g a n s in the revolutionary struggle for liberation; t h a t is t o say,
they failed to u n d e r s t a n d to w h a t an extent the council system
confronted t h e m with an entirely n e w form of g o v e r n m e n t , with a
n e w public space for freedom which w a s constituted a n d organized
d u r i n g the course of the revolution itself.
T h i s statement m u s t be qualified. T h e r e are t w o relevant
exceptions to it, namely a few r e m a r k s by M a r x at the occasion of
the revival of the Parisian C o m m u n e during the short-lived
revolution of 1 8 7 1 , a n d some reflections by Lenin based n o t on the
t e x t b y M a r x , b u t on the actual course of the Revolution of 1 9 0 5 in
Russia. But before w e t u r n o u r attention t o these m a t t e r s , w e h a d
better try t o u n d e r s t a n d w h a t Jefferson h a d in m i n d w h e n he said
with u t m o s t self-assurance, ' T h e wit of m a n c a n n o t devise a m o r e
1
solid basis for a free, d u r a b l e , and well-administered republic.'"
It is p e r h a p s n o t e w o r t h y t h a t w e find n o mention of the w a r d
system in any of Jefferson's formal w o r k s , a n d it may be even m o r e
i m p o r t a n t t h a t the few letters in which he w r o t e of it with such
e m p h a t i c insistence all d a t e from the last period of his life. It is true,
at o n e time he h o p e d that Virginia, because it w a s 'the first of the
n a t i o n s of the e a r t h which assembled its wise men peaceably
together to form a fundamental constitution', w o u l d also b e the
4
first ' t o a d o p t the subdivision of our counties into w a r d s ' , b u t the
p o i n t of the m a t t e r is that the w h o l e idea seems t o have occurred to
him only at a time w h e n he himself w a s retired from public life a n d
w h e n he h a d w i t h d r a w n from t h e affairs of state. H e w h o h a d been
so explicit in his criticism of the C o n s t i t u t i o n because it h a d n o t
i n c o r p o r a t e d a Bill of Rights, never t o u c h e d o n its failure to
i n c o r p o r a t e the t o w n s h i p s which so obviously were the original
models of his 'elementary republics' w h e r e ' t h e voice of t h e w h o l e
people w o u l d be fairly, fully, and peaceably expressed, discussed,
5
a n d decided by the c o m m o n r e a s o n ' of all citizens. In terms of his
o w n role in the affairs of his c o u n t r y and the o u t c o m e of the
Revolution, the idea of the w a r d system clearly w a s an after
t h o u g h t ; a n d , in terms of his o w n biographical development, t h e
repeated insistence o n the 'peaceable' character of these w a r d s
Hannah Arendt 241
d e m o n s t r a t e s t h a t this system was to him the only possible non
violent alternative to his earlier notions about the desirability of
recurring revolutions. At any event, we find the only detailed
descriptions of w h a t he h a d in mind in letters written in the year
1 8 1 6 , a n d these letters repeat rather than supplement one another.
Jefferson himself k n e w well enough that w h a t he proposed as the
'salvation of the republic' actually was the salvation of the
revolutionary spirit t h r o u g h the republic. His expositions of the
w a r d system always began with a reminder of h o w 'the vigor given
to o u r revolution in its c o m m e n c e m e n t ' was due to the 'little
republics', h o w they h a d ' t h r o w n the whole nation into energetic
a c t i o n ' , a n d h o w , at a later occasion, he had felt 'the foundations of
the g o v e r n m e n t shaken under [his] feet by the N e w England
t o w n s h i p s ' , 'the energy of this organization' being so great that
'there w a s n o t an individual in their States whose body was not
t h r o w n with all its m o m e n t u m into action.' Hence, he expected the
w a r d s to p e r m i t the citizens to continue to d o w h a t they h a d been
able t o d o d u r i n g the years of revolution, namely, to act on their
o w n a n d thus to participate in public business as it was being
transacted from day to day. By virtue of the Constitution, the
public business of the nation as a whole had been transferred to
W a s h i n g t o n a n d was being transacted by the federal government,
of which Jefferson still t h o u g h t as 'the foreign branch' of the
republic, w h o s e domestic affairs were taken care of by the state
6
g o v e r n m e n t s . But state government and even the administrative
machinery of the county were by far t o o large and unwieldy to
p e r m i t immediate participation; in all these institutions, it was the
delegates of the people rather than the people themselves w h o
constituted the public realm, whereas those w h o delegated them
and w h o , theoretically, were the source and the seat of power
r e m a i n e d forever outside its d o o r s . This order of things should have
sufficed if Jefferson h a d actually believed (as he sometimes profes
sed) that the happiness of the people lay exclusively in their private
welfare; for because of the way the government of the union was
constituted - with its division and separation of powers, with
controls, checks a n d balances, built into its very centre - it was
highly unlikely, t h o u g h of course not impossible, that a tyranny
could arise o u t of it. W h a t could happen, and what indeed has
h a p p e n e d over a n d over again since, was that 'the representative
7
o r g a n s should become c o r r u p t a n d perverted', but such corruption
w a s n o t likely t o be d u e (and hardly ever has been due) to a
conspiracy of the representative organs against the people w h o m
they represented. C o r r u p t i o n in this kind of government is much
m o r e likely t o spring from the midst of society, t h a t is, from the
p e o p l e themselves.
C o r r u p t i o n and perversion are m o r e pernicious, and at the same
time m o r e likely to occur, in an egalitarian republic t h a n in any
o t h e r form of g o v e r n m e n t . Schematically speaking, they come to
pass w h e n private interests invade the public d o m a i n , t h a t is, they
spring from b e l o w a n d n o t from a b o v e . It is precisely because the
republic excluded o n principle the old d i c h o t o m y of ruler a n d ruled
t h a t c o r r u p t i o n of the b o d y politic did n o t leave the people
u n t o u c h e d , as in other forms of g o v e r n m e n t , w h e r e only the rulers
or the ruling classes needed t o be affected, and w h e r e therefore an
' i n n o c e n t ' people might indeed first suffer a n d t h e n , o n e d a y , effect
a dreadful b u t necessary insurrection. C o r r u p t i o n of the people
themselves — as distinguished from c o r r u p t i o n of their representa
tives or a ruling class — is possible only u n d e r a g o v e r n m e n t that has
g r a n t e d t h e m a share in public p o w e r and has t a u g h t t h e m h o w to
m a n i p u l a t e it. W h e r e the rift between ruler a n d ruled h a s been
closed, it is always possible t h a t the dividing line between public
a n d private m a y b e c o m e blurred and, eventually, obliterated. Prior
t o the m o d e r n age and the rise of society, this d a n g e r , inherent in
republican g o v e r n m e n t , used to arise from the public realm, from
the tendency of public p o w e r to e x p a n d a n d t o trespass u p o n
private interests. T h e age-old remedy against this d a n g e r w a s
respect for private p r o p e r t y , t h a t is, the framing of a system of laws
t h r o u g h which the rights of privacy w e r e publicly g u a r a n t e e d a n d
the dividing line between public and private legally protected. T h e
Bill of Rights in the A m e r i c a n C o n s t i t u t i o n forms the last, a n d the
m o s t exhaustive, legal b u l w a r k for the private realm against public
p o w e r , a n d Jefferson's p r e o c c u p a t i o n w i t h the d a n g e r s of public
p o w e r a n d this remedy against t h e m is sufficiently well k n o w n .
H o w e v e r , u n d e r c o n d i t i o n s , n o t of prosperity as such, b u t of a
rapid a n d c o n s t a n t e c o n o m i c g r o w t h , t h a t is, of a constantly
increasing e x p a n s i o n of the private realm - a n d these w e r e of
course the conditions of the m o d e r n age — the d a n g e r s of c o r r u p t i o n
a n d perversion w e r e m u c h m o r e likely to arise from private
interests t h a n from public p o w e r . And it speaks for the high calibre
of Jefferson's s t a t e s m a n s h i p that he w a s able to perceive this d a n g e r
despite his p r e o c c u p a t i o n w i t h the older a n d b e t t e r - k n o w n threats
of c o r r u p t i o n in bodies politic.
T h e only remedies against the misuse of public p o w e r by private
individuals lie in the public realm itself, in the light which exhibits
each deed enacted within its b o u n d a r i e s , in the very visibility to
which it exposes all those w h o enter it. Jefferson, t h o u g h the secret
Hannah Arendt 243
vote was still u n k n o w n at the time, had at least a foreboding of how
d a n g e r o u s it might be to allow the people a share in public power
w i t h o u t providing them at the same time with more public space
t h a n the ballot box and with more opportunity to make their voices
h e a r d in public than election day. W h a t he perceived to be the
mortal d a n g e r to the republic was rhat the Constitution had given
all p o w e r t o the citizens, without giving them the opportunity of
. being republicans and of acting as citizens. In other words, the
d a n g e r was that all p o w e r had been given to the people in their
private capacity, and that there was no space established for them
in their capacity of being citizens. W h e n , at the end of his life, he
s u m m e d u p w h a t to him clearly was the gist of private and public
morality, 'Love your neighbor as yourself, and your country more
8
t h a n yourself', he k n e w that this maxim remained an empty
e x h o r t a t i o n unless the 'country' could be made as present to the
'love' of its citizens as the 'neighbor' was to the love of his fellow
men. For just as there could not be much substance to neighbourly
love if one's neighbour should make a brief apparition once every
t w o years, so there could n o t be much substance to the admonition
t o love one's country m o r e than oneself unless the country was a
living presence in the midst of its citizens.
H e n c e , according to Jefferson, it was the very principle of
republican government to demand 'the subdivision of the counties
into w a r d s ' , namely, the creation of 'small republics' through which
'every m a n in the State' could become 'an acting member of the
C o m m o n government, transacting in person a great portion of its
rights a n d duties, subordinate indeed, yet important, and entirely
9
within his c o m p e t e n c e . ' It was 'these little republics [that] would
1 0
be the main strength of the great o n e ' ; for inasmuch as the
republican g o v e r n m e n t of the Union was based on the assumption
t h a t the seat of p o w e r w a s in the people, the very condition for its
p r o p e r functioning lay in a scheme 'to divide [government] a m o n g
the m a n y , distributing to every one exactly the functions he [was]
c o m p e t e n t t o . ' W i t h o u t this, the very principle of republican
g o v e r n m e n t could never be actualized, and the government of the
United States w o u l d be republican in name only.
T h i n k i n g in terms of the safety of the republic, the question was
h o w to prevent 'the degeneracy of o u r government', and Jefferson
called every government degenerate in which all powers were
c o n c e n t r a t e d 'in the h a n d s of the one, the few, the well-born or the
m a n y . ' H e n c e , the w a r d system w a s not meant to strengthen the
p o w e r of the m a n y but the p o w e r of 'every one' within the limits of
his c o m p e t e n c e ; a n d only by breaking up 'the m a n y ' into assemblies
w h e r e every one could count and be c o u n t e d u p o n 'shall we be as
republican as a large society can be.' In terms of the safety of the
citizens of the republic, the question was h o w to m a k e everybody
feel
t h a t he is a participator in the g o v e r n m e n t of affairs, n o t

merely at an election one day in the year, but every day; w h e n
there shall n o t be a m a n in the State w h o will n o t be a m e m b e r
of some o n e of its councils, great or small, he will let the heart
be t o r n o u t of his b o d y sooner than his p o w e r wrested from
h i m by a Caesar or a B o n a p a r t e .
Finally, as to the question of h o w t o integrate these smallest o r g a n s ,

designed for everyone, into the governmental structure of the
U n i o n , designed for all, his answer w a s : ' T h e elementary republics
of the w a r d s , the county republics, the State republics, a n d the
republic of the Union w o u l d form a g r a d a t i o n of authorities,
standing each on the basis of law, holding every o n e its delegated
share of p o w e r s , and constituting truly a system of fundamental
balances and checks for the g o v e r n m e n t . ' O n one point, h o w e v e r ,
Jefferson remained curiously silent, and t h a t is the question of w h a t
the specific functions of the elementary republics should be. H e
m e n t i o n e d occasionally as ' o n e of the advantages of the w a r d
divisions I have p r o p o s e d ' t h a t they w o u l d offer a better w a y to
collect the voice of the people than the mechanics of representative
g o v e r n m e n t ; but in the m a i n , h e w a s convinced t h a t if o n e w o u l d
'begin t h e m only for a single p u r p o s e ' they w o u l d ' s o o n s h o w for
w h a t others they [were] the best i n s t r u m e n t s ' . "
This vagueness of p u r p o s e , far from being due to a lack of clarity,
indicates p e r h a p s m o r e tellingly t h a n any other single aspect of
Jefferson's p r o p o s a l t h a t the afterthought in which he clarified a n d
gave substance to his m o s t cherished recollections from the
Revolution in fact concerned a new form of government r a t h e r t h a n
a mere reform of it or a mere s u p p l e m e n t to the existing
institutions. If the ultimate end of revolution w a s freedom a n d the
constitution of a public space where freedom could a p p e a r , the
constitutio libertatis, then the elementary republics of the w a r d s ,
the only tangible place w h e r e everyone could be free, actually were
the end of the great republic w h o s e chief p u r p o s e in d o m e s t i c
affairs should have been t o provide the people w i t h such places of
freedom a n d to protect t h e m . T h e basic a s s u m p t i o n of the w a r d
system, w h e t h e r Jefferson k n e w it or n o t , w a s that n o o n e could be
called h a p p y w i t h o u t his share in public happiness, that n o o n e
Hannah Arendt 245
could be called free w i t h o u t his experience in public freedom, and
that n o o n e could be called either happy or free without participat
ing, a n d having a share, in public power.
II
It is a strange and sad story that remains to be told and

r e m e m b e r e d . It is not the story of revolution on whose thread the
historian m i g h t string the history of the nineteenth century in
E u r o p e , w h o s e origins could be traced back into the Middle Ages,
w h o s e progress had been irresistible 'for centuries in spite of every
obstacle', according to Tocqueville, and which M a r x , generalizing
the experiences of several generations, called 'the locomotive of all
11
h i s t o r y ' . I d o not d o u b t that revolution was the hidden leitmotif
of the century preceding ours, although I d o u b t both Tocqueville's
a n d M a r x ' s generalizations, especially their conviction that revolu
tion h a d been the result of an irresistible force rather than the
o u t c o m e of specific deeds a n d events. W h a t seems to be beyond
d o u b t a n d belief is t h a t n o historian will ever be able to tell the tale
of o u r century w i t h o u t stringing it 'on the thread of revolutions';
b u t this tale, since its end still lies hidden in the mists of the future,
is n o t yet fit t o be told.
T h e same, to an extent, is true for the particular aspect of
revolution with which we n o w must concern ourselves. This aspect
is the regular emergence, during the course of revolution, of a new
form of g o v e r n m e n t t h a t resembled in an amazing fashion Jeffer
son's w a r d system a n d seemed to repeat, under no matter what
circumstances, the revolutionary societies and municipal councils
which h a d spread all over France after 1789. Among the reasons
t h a t r e c o m m e n d e d this aspect to our attention must first be
m e n t i o n e d t h a t we deal here with the p h e n o m e n o n that impressed
m o s t the t w o greatest revolutionists of the whole period, M a r x and
Lenin, w h e n they were witnessing its spontaneous rise, the former
d u r i n g the Parisian C o m m u n e of 1871 and the latter in 1905,
during the first Russian Revolution. W h a t struck them was not only
the fact t h a t they themselves were entirely unprepared for these
events, b u t also t h a t they knew they were confronted with a
repetition u n a c c o u n t e d for by any conscious imitation or even mere
r e m e m b r a n c e of the past. T o be sure, they had hardly any
k n o w l e d g e of Jefferson's w a r d system, but they k n e w well enough
the revolutionary role the sections of the first Parisian C o m m u n e
h a d played in the French Revolution, except t h a t they had never
t h o u g h t of t h e m as possible germs for a new form of g o v e r n m e n t
b u t h a d regarded them as mere instruments to be dispensed with
o n c e the revolution came to an end. N o w , h o w e v e r , they were
confronted with p o p u l a r organs - the c o m m u n e s , the councils, the
Rate, the Soviets - which clearly intended to survive the revolution.
This contradicted all their theories a n d , even m o r e i m p o r t a n t l y ,
was in flagrant conflict with those a s s u m p t i o n s a b o u t the n a t u r e of
p o w e r a n d violence which they shared, albeit unconsciously, with
the rulers of the d o o m e d or defunct regimes. Firmly a n c h o r e d in the
tradition of the nation-state, they conceived of revolution as a
m e a n s to seize p o w e r , a n d they identified p o w e r with the m o n o p o l y
of the m e a n s of violence. W h a t actually h a p p e n e d , h o w e v e r , w a s a
swift disintegration of the old p o w e r , the sudden loss of control
over the means of violence, a n d , at the same time, the a m a z i n g
formation of a new p o w e r structure which o w e d its existence to
n o t h i n g b u t the organizational impulses of the people themselves.
In other w o r d s , w h e n the m o m e n t of revolution h a d c o m e , it turned
o u t that there was n o p o w e r left to seize, so t h a t the revolutionists
found themselves before the rather u n c o m f o r t a b l e alternative of
either putting their o w n pre-revolutionary ' p o w e r ' , that is, the
organization of the p a r t y a p p a r a t u s , into the vacated p o w e r centre
of the defunct g o v e r n m e n t , or simply joining the n e w revolutionary
p o w e r centres which had s p r u n g u p w i t h o u t their help.
For a brief m o m e n t , while h e w a s the mere witness of something
he never h a d expected, M a r x u n d e r s t o o d t h a t the Kommunalver-
fassung of the Parisian C o m m u n e in 1 8 7 1 , because it w a s supposed
t o b e c o m e 'the political form of even the smallest village,' might
well be ' t h e political form, finally discovered, for the e c o n o m i c
liberation of labor.' But he s o o n became a w a r e to w h a t an extent
this political form contradicted all n o t i o n s of a ' d i c t a t o r s h i p of the
proletariat' by m e a n s of a socialist or c o m m u n i s t p a r t y w h o s e
m o n o p o l y of p o w e r a n d violence w a s modelled u p o n the highly
centralized g o v e r n m e n t s of nation-states, a n d he concluded t h a t the
c o m m u n a l councils were, after all, only t e m p o r a r y o r g a n s of the
14
r e v o l u t i o n . It is a l m o s t the s a m e sequence of attitudes w h i c h , one
generation later, we find in Lenin, w h o twice in his life, in 1 9 0 5 a n d
in 1 9 1 7 , c a m e u n d e r the direct impact of the events themselves, that
is t o say, w a s t e m p o r a r i l y liberated from the pernicious influence of
a revolutionary ideology. T h u s he could extol w i t h great sincerity in
1 9 0 5 ' t h e revolutionary creativity of the people,' w h o spon
taneously h a d begun to establish an entirely new p o w e r structure in
15
the midst of r e v o l u t i o n , just as, twelve years later, he could
let loose and w i n the O c t o b e r Revolution w i t h the slogan: 'All
Hannah Arendt 247
p o w e r to the Soviets: But during the years that separated the two
revolutions he h a d d o n e nothing to reorient his thought and to
incorporate the new organs into any of the many party programmes,
with the result t h a t the same spontaneous development in 1917
found him a n d his party n o less unprepared than they had been in
1 9 0 5 . W h e n , finally, during the Kronstadt rebellion, the Soviets
revolted against the p a r t y dictatorship and the incompatibility of
the n e w councils with the party system became manifest, he decided
a l m o s t at o n c e t o crush the councils, since they threatened the
p o w e r m o n o p o l y of the Bolshevik party. The name 'Soviet Union'
for p o s t - r e v o l u t i o n a r y Russia has been a lie ever since, but this lie
has also c o n t a i n e d , ever since, the grudging admission of the
o v e r w h e l m i n g popularity, not of the Bolshevik party, but of the
16
soviet system which the p a r t y reduced to i m p o t e n c e . Put before
the alternative of either adjusting their thoughts and deeds to the
n e w a n d the unexpected or going to the extreme of tyranny and
suppression, they hardly hesitated in their decision for the latter;
with the exceptions of a few moments without consequence, their
b e h a v i o u r from beginning t o end was dictated by considerations of
p a r t y strife, w h i c h played n o role in the councils but which indeed
h a d been of p a r a m o u n t importance in the pre-revolutionary
p a r l i a m e n t s . W h e n the C o m m u n i s t s decided, in 1919, 'to espouse
only the cause of a soviet republic in which the Soviets possess a
17
C o m m u n i s t m a j o r i t y ' , they actually behaved like ordinary party
politicians. So great is the fear of men, even of the most radical and
least c o n v e n t i o n a l a m o n g them, of things never seen, of thoughts
never t h o u g h t , of institutions never tried before.
T h e failure of the revolutionary tradition to give any serious
t h o u g h t t o the only n e w form of government born out of revolution
can partly be explained by M a r x ' s obsession with the social
question a n d his unwillingness to pay serious attention to questions
of state a n d g o v e r n m e n t . But this explanation is weak and, to an
extent, even question-begging, because it takes for granted the
o v e r t o w e r i n g influence of M a r x on the revolutionary movement
a n d t r a d i t i o n , an influence which itself still stands in need of
e x p l a n a t i o n . It w a s , after all, not only the Marxists among the
revolutionists w h o p r o v e d to be utterly unprepared for the actuali
ties of r e v o l u t i o n a r y events. And this unpreparedness is all the more
n o t e w o r t h y as it surely c a n n o t be blamed upon lack of thought or
interest in revolution. It is well k n o w n that the French Revolution
h a d given rise t o an entirely n e w figure on the political scene, the
professional revolutionist, a n d his life was spent not in revolution
ary agitation, for which there existed but few opportunities, but in
study a n d t h o u g h t , in theory and d e b a t e , w h o s e sole object was
revolution. In fact, n o history of the E u r o p e a n leisure classes w o u l d
be complete w i t h o u t a history of the professional revolutionists of
the nineteenth a n d t w e n t i e t h centuries, w h o , together with the
m o d e r n artists a n d writers, have b e c o m e the true heirs of the
hommes de lettres in the seventeenth a n d eighteenth centuries. The
artists a n d writers joined t h e revolutionists because 'the very w o r d
bourgeois came to have a h a t e d significance n o less aesthetic than
18
political'; together they established Bohemia, that island of
blessed leisure in the midst of the busy and overbusy century of the
Industrial Revolution. Even a m o n g the m e m b e r s of this n e w leisure
class, the professional revolutionist enjoyed special privileges since
his w a y of life d e m a n d e d n o specific w o r k w h a t s o e v e r . If there was
a thing he h a d n o reason to c o m p l a i n of, it w a s lack of time to
think, whereby it m a k e s little difference if such an essentially
theoretical w a y of life was spent in the famous libraries of L o n d o n
and Paris, or in the coffee houses of V i e n n a a n d Z u r i c h , or in the
relatively comfortable a n d u n d i s t u r b e d jails of the various anciens
regimes.
T h e role the professional revolutionists played in all m o d e r n
revolutions is great a n d significant e n o u g h , b u t it did n o t consist in
the p r e p a r a t i o n of revolutions. They w a t c h e d a n d analysed the
progressing disintegration in state and society, they hardly did, or
were in a position to d o , m u c h t o a d v a n c e a n d direct it. Even the
w a v e of strikes t h a t spread over Russia in 1 9 0 5 and led into the first
revolution was entirely s p o n t a n e o u s , u n s u p p o r t e d by any political
or trade-union organizations, which, on the c o n t r a r y , s p r a n g up
19
only in the course of the r e v o l u t i o n . T h e o u t b r e a k of most
revolutions has surprised the revolutionist g r o u p s a n d parties n o
less t h a n all others, a n d there exists hardly a revolution w h o s e
o u t b r e a k could be blamed u p o n their activities. It usually w a s the
o t h e r w a y r o u n d : revolution b r o k e o u t a n d liberated, as it w e r e , the
professional revolutionists from wherever they h a p p e n e d t o be -
from jail, or from the coffee house, or from the library. N o t even
Lenin's party of professional revolutionists w o u l d ever h a v e been
able to ' m a k e ' a revolution; the best they could d o w a s t o be
a r o u n d , or t o h u r r y h o m e , at the right m o m e n t , t h a t is, at the
m o m e n t of collapse. Tocqueville's observation in 1 8 4 8 , t h a t the
m o n a r c h y fell 'before rather t h a n b e n e a t h the b l o w s of t h e victors,
w h o were as astonished a t their t r i u m p h as were the vanquished at
their defeat', has been verified over a n d over again.
T h e p a r t of the professional revolutionists usually consists not in
m a k i n g a revolution b u t in rising to p o w e r after it has b r o k e n o u t ,
Hannah Arendt 249
a n d their great a d v a n t a g e in this power struggle lies less in their
theories a n d mental or organizational preparation than in the
simple fact t h a t their n a m e s are the only ones which are publicly
0
k n o w n . " It certainly is not conspiracy that causes revolution, and
secret societies - t h o u g h they may succeed in committing a few
21
spectacular crimes, usually with the help of the secret police - are
as a rule m u c h t o o secret to be able to make their voices heard in
public. T h e loss of authority in the powers-that-be, which indeed
precedes all revolutions, is actually a secret to no one, since its
manifestations are open and tangible, though not neccessarily
spectacular; b u t its s y m p t o m s , general dissatisfaction, widespread
malaise, a n d c o n t e m p t for those in power, are difficult to pin down
22
since their m e a n i n g is never u n e q u i v o c a l . Nevertheless, contempt,
hardly a m o n g the motives of the typical professional revolutionist,
is certainly o n e of the most potent springs of revolution; there has
hardly been a revolution for which Lamartine's remark about
1848, 'the revolution of contempt', would be altogether
inappropriate.
H o w e v e r , while the p a r t played by the professional revolutionist
in the o u t b r e a k of revolution has usually been insignificant to the
p o i n t of non-existence, his influence upon the actual course a
revolution will take has proved to be very great. And since he spent
his apprenticeship in the school of past revolutions, he will
invariably exert this influence not in favour of the new and the
unexpected, b u t in favour of some action which remains in
a c c o r d a n c e with the past. Since it is his very task to assure the
continuity of revolution, he will be inclined to argue in terms of
historical precedents, a n d the conscious and pernicious imitation of
p a s t events, which we mentioned earlier, lies, partially at least, in
the very n a t u r e of his profession. Long before the professional
revolutionists h a d found in M a r x i s m their official guide to the
interpretation a n d a n n o t a t i o n of all history, past, present and
future, Tocqueville, in 1 8 4 8 , could already note: 'The imitation [i.e.
of 1 7 8 9 by the revolutionary Assembly] was so manifest that it
concealed the terrible originality of the facts; I continually had the
impression they w e r e engaged in play-acting the French Revolution
23
far m o r e t h a n continuing i t . ' And again, during the Parisian
C o m m u n e of 1 8 7 1 , on which M a r x and Marxists had no influence
w h a t s o e v e r , a t least one of the new magazines, Le Pere Duchene,
a d o p t e d the old revolutionary calendar's names for the months ot
the year. It is strange indeed that in this atmosphere, where every
incident of p a s t revolutions w a s mulled over as though it were part
of sacred history, the only entirely new and entirely spontaneous
institution in revolutionary history should have been neglected to
the point of oblivion.
A r m e d with the w i s d o m of hindsight, o n e is t e m p t e d to qualify
this statement. T h e r e are certain p a r a g r a p h s in the writings of the
U t o p i a n Socialists, especially in P r o u d h o n and B a k u n i n , into which
it h a s been relatively easy to read an a w a r e n e s s of the council
system. Yet the t r u t h is that these essentially anarchist political
thinkers were singularly u n e q u i p p e d t o deal with a p h e n o m e n o n
which d e m o n s t r a t e d so clearly h o w a revolution did n o t end with
the abolition of state and g o v e r n m e n t but, o n the c o n t r a r y , aimed
at the f o u n d a t i o n of a n e w state and the establishment of a new
form of government. M o r e recently, historians have pointed t o the
rather obvious similarities between t h e councils a n d the medieval
t o w n s h i p s , the Swiss c a n t o n s , the English seventeeth-century 'agi
tators' — o r rather ' a d j u s t a t o r s ' , as they were originally called — and
the General Council of C r o m w e l l ' s a r m y , b u t the p o i n t of the
m a t t e r is that n o n e of t h e m , with the possible exception of the
2 4
medieval t o w n , h a d ever the slightest influence o n the minds of
the people w h o in the course of a revolution spontaneously
organized themselves in councils.
H e n c e , no tradition, either revolutionary o r pre-revolutionary,
can be called to account for the regular emergence a n d re-
emergence of the council system ever since t h e French Revolution.
If w e leave aside the February Revolution of 1848 in Paris, w h e r e a
commission pour les travailleurs, set u p by the g o v e r n m e n t itself,
was almost exclusively concerned w i t h questions of social legisla
tion, the m a i n dates of a p p e a r a n c e of these o r g a n s of action and
germs of a n e w state are the following: t h e year 1 8 7 0 , w h e n the
French capital u n d e r siege by the Prussian a r m y ' s p o n t a n e o u s l y
reorganized itself into a m i n i a t u r e federal b o d y ' , which then formed
the nucleus for the Parisian C o m m u n e g o v e r n m e n t in the spring of
2 5
1 8 7 1 ; the year 1 9 0 5 , w h e n t h e w a v e of s p o n t a n e o u s strikes in
Russia suddenly developed a political leadership of its o w n , outside
all revolutionary parties a n d g r o u p s , a n d the w o r k e r s in the
factories organized themselves into councils, Soviets, for the
p u r p o s e of representative self-government; the F e b r u a r y Revolu
tion of 1 9 1 7 in Russia, w h e n 'despite different political tendencies
a m o n g t h e Russian w o r k e r s , the o r g a n i z a t i o n itself, that is the
26
soviet, w a s n o t even subject t o d i s c u s s i o n ' ; t h e years 1 9 1 8 a n d
1 9 1 9 in G e r m a n y , w h e n , after the defeat of t h e a r m y , soldiers a n d
w o r k e r s in o p e n rebellion constituted themselves i n t o Arbeiter- und
Soldatenrdte, d e m a n d i n g , in Berlin, that this Rdtesystem become
the f o u n d a t i o n stone of the n e w G e r m a n constitution, and estab-
Hannah Arendt 251
lishing, t o g e t h e r with the Bohemians of the coffee houses, in
M u n i c h in the spring of 1 9 1 9 , the short-lived Bavarian Rdterepub-
lik; the last date, finally, is the autumn of 1956, when the
H u n g a r i a n Revolution from its very beginning produced the
council system a n e w in Budapest, from which it spread all over the
28
c o u n t r y 'with incredible r a p i d i t y . '
T h e mere e n u m e r a t i o n of these dates suggests a continuity that in
fact never existed. It is precisely the absence of continuity, tradition,
a n d organized influence that makes the sameness of the phe
n o m e n o n so very striking. Outstanding among the councils'
c o m m o n characteristics is, of course, the spontaneity of their
coming into being, because it clearly and flagrantly contradicts the
theoretical 'twentieth-century model of revolution - planned,
p r e p a r e d , a n d executed almost to cold scientific exactness by the
29
professional r e v o l u t i o n a r i e s . ' It is true that wherever the revolu
tion w a s n o t defeated a n d not followed by some sort of restoration,
the o n e - p a r t y dictatorship, that is, the model of the professional
revolutionary, eventually prevailed, but it prevailed only after a
violent struggle with the organs and institutions of the revolution
itself. T h e councils, m o r e o v e r , were always organs of order as much
as organs of action, a n d it was indeed their aspiration to lay down
the n e w o r d e r t h a t b r o u g h t them into conflict with the groups of
professional revolutionaries, w h o wished to degrade them to mere
executive o r g a n s of revolutionary activity. It is true enough that the
m e m b e r s of the councils were not content to discuss and 'enlighten
themselves' a b o u t measures that were taken by parties or assem
blies; they consciously a n d explicitly desired the direct participation
30
of every citizen in the public affairs of the c o u n t r y , and as long as
they lasted, there is n o d o u b t that 'every individual found his own
sphere of action and could behold, as it were, with his own eyes his
31
o w n c o n t r i b u t i o n to the events of the d a y . ' Witnesses of their
functioning w e r e often agreed on the extent to which the revolution
had given birth to a 'direct regeneration of democracy', whereby the
implication w a s t h a t all such regenerations, alas, were foredoomed
since, obviously, a direct handling of public business through the
people w a s impossible u n d e r modern conditions. They looked upon
the councils as t h o u g h they were a romantic dream, some sort of
fantastic Utopia come true for a fleeting moment to show, as it
w e r e , the hopelessly r o m a n t i c yearnings of the people, who
apparently did n o t yet k n o w the true facts of life. These realists
t o o k their o w n bearings from the party system, assuming as a
matter of course t h a t there existed n o other alternative tor
representative g o v e r n m e n t a n d forgetting conveniently that the
downfall of the old regime h a d been d u e , a m o n g o t h e r things,
precisely t o this system.
For the r e m a r k a b l e thing a b o u t the councils w a s of course not
only that they crossed all p a r t y lines, t h a t m e m b e r s of the various
parties sat in them together, b u t that such p a r t y m e m b e r s h i p played
n o role whatsoever. T h e y were in fact the only political o r g a n s for
people w h o belonged to n o party. H e n c e , they invariably came into
conflict with all assemblies, with the old parliaments as well as with
the n e w ' c o n s t i t u e n t assemblies', for the simple reason t h a t the
latter, even in their m o s t e x t r e m e wings, were still the children of
the party system. At this stage of events, t h a t is, in the midst of
revolution, it w a s the party p r o g r a m m e s m o r e t h a n a n y t h i n g else
that separated the councils from the parties; for these p r o g r a m m e s ,
n o m a t t e r h o w revolutionary, were all ' r e a d y - m a d e f o r m u l a s '
which d e m a n d e d n o t action but execution - 'to be carried out
energetically in practice', as Rosa L u x e m b u r g pointed o u t w i t h
3 1
such a m a z i n g clearsightedness a b o u t the issues at s t a k e . T o d a y we
k n o w h o w quickly the theoretical formula disappeared in practical
execution, but if the formula had survived its execution, a n d even if
it h a d p r o v e d to be the p a n a c e a for all evils, social a n d political, the
councils w e r e b o u n d to rebel against any such policy since the very
cleavage between the party experts w h o ' k n e w ' and the mass of the
people w h o were supposed t o apply this k n o w l e d g e left o u t of
account the average citizen's capacity t o act and to form his o w n
opinion. T h e councils, in other w o r d s , were b o u n d to b e c o m e
superfluous if the spirit of the revolutionary p a r t y prevailed.
Wherever k n o w i n g a n d doing have p a r t e d c o m p a n y , the space of
freedom is lost.
T h e councils, obviously, were spaces of freedom. As such, they
invariably refused t o regard themselves as t e m p o r a r y o r g a n s of
revolution and, on the contrary, m a d e all attempts at establishing
themselves as p e r m a n e n t o r g a n s of g o v e r n m e n t . Far from wishing
to m a k e the revolution p e r m a n e n t , their explicitly expressed goal
was 'to lay the f o u n d a t i o n s of a republic acclaimed in all its
consequences, the only g o v e r n m e n t which will close forever the era
of invasions and civil w a r s ' ; n o paradise o n e a r t h , n o classless
society, n o d r e a m of socialist or c o m m u n i s t fraternity, b u t the
establishment of 'the true Republic' w a s the ' r e w a r d ' h o p e d for as
33
the end of the s t r u g g l e . A n d w h a t h a d been true in Paris in 1 8 7 1
remained true for Russia in 1 9 0 5 , w h e n the ' n o t merely destructive
but constructive' intentions of the first Soviets were so manifest t h a t
c o n t e m p o r a r y witnesses 'could sense the emergence a n d the forma-
Hannah Arendt 253
tion of a force which one day might be able to effect the
34
transformation of the S t a t e . '
It w a s n o t h i n g m o r e or less than this hope for a transformation of
the state, for a n e w form of government that would permit every
m e m b e r of the m o d e r n egalitarian society to become a 'participa
t o r ' in public affairs, t h a t w a s buried in the disasters of twentieth-
century revolutions. Their causes were manifold and, of course,
varied from c o u n t r y t o country, but the forces of what is commonly
called reaction a n d counter-revolution are not prominent among
them. Recalling the r e c o r d of revolution in our century, it is the
weakness r a t h e r t h a n the strength of these forces which is
impressive, the frequency of their defeat, the ease of revolution, and
- last, not least - the e x t r a o r d i n a r y instability and lack of authority
of most E u r o p e a n governments restored after the downfall of
Hitler's E u r o p e . At any rate, the role played by the professional
revolutionaries a n d the revolutionary parties in these disasters was
i m p o r t a n t e n o u g h , a n d in o u r context it is the decisive one. Without
Lenin's slogan, 'All p o w e r to the Soviets', there would never have
been an O c t o b e r Revolution in Russia, but whether or not Lenin
w a s sincere in proclaiming the Soviet Republic, the fact of the
m a t t e r w a s even then that his slogan was in conspicuous con-
tradication t o the openly proclaimed revolutionary goals of the
Bolshevik p a r t y to 'seize p o w e r ' , that is, to replace the state
machinery with the party a p p a r a t u s . H a d Lenin really wanted to
give all p o w e r to the Soviets, he would have condemned the
Bolshevik p a r t y to the same impotence which now is the outstan
ding characteristic of the Soviet parliament, whose party and non
party deputies are n o m i n a t e d by the party and, in the absence of
any rival list, are n o t even chosen, but only acclaimed by the voters.
But while the conflict between party and councils was greatly
sharpened because of a conflicting claim to be the only 'true'
representative of the Revolution and the people, the issue at stake is
of a m u c h m o r e far-reaching significance. .
W h a t the councils challenged was the party system as such, m a i l
its forms, a n d this conflict was emphasized whenever the councils,
b o r n of revolution, t u r n e d against the party or parties whose sole
aim had always been the revolution. Seen from the vanguard point
of a t r u e Soviet Republic, the Bolshevik party was merely more
d a n g e r o u s b u t n o less reactionary than all the other parties or me
defunct regime. As far as the form of government is concerned
a n d the councils everywhere, in contradistinction to the revolution
ary parties, w e r e infinitely m o r e interested in the political than in
35
the social aspect of r e v o l u t i o n - t h e o n e - p a r t y d i c t a t o r s h i p is only
the last stage in the d e v e l o p m e n t of t h e n a t i o n - s t a t e in general and
of the m u l t i - p a r t y system in p a r t i c u l a r . This m a y s o u n d like a
t r u i s m in the midst of the twentieth century w h e n the multi-party
d e m o c r a c i e s in E u r o p e have declined t o the p o i n t w h e r e in every
French o r Italian election ' t h e very f o u n d a t i o n s of the state a n d the
3 6
n a t u r e of the r e g i m e ' are at s t a k e . It is therefore enlightening to
see t h a t in principle the same conflict existed even in 1 8 7 1 , during
the Parisian C o m m u n e , w h e n Odysse B a r r o t formulated w i t h rare
precision the chief difference in t e r m s of French history between the
n e w form of g o v e r n m e n t , aimed at the C o m m u n e , a n d the old
regime w h i c h s o o n w a s t o be restored in a different, non-
m o n a r c h i c a l disguise:
En tant q u e revolution sociale, 1 8 7 1 procede directement de

1 7 9 3 , qu'il c o n t i n u e et qu'il doit achever . . . En t a n t q u e
revolution politique, au c o n t r a i r e , 1 8 7 1 est reaction c o n t r e
1 7 9 3 et u n r e t o u r a 1 7 8 9 . . . . 7/ a efface du programme les
mots 'une et indivisible' et rejette l'idee a u t o r i t a i r e qui est u n e
idee t o u t e m o n a r c h i q u e . . pour se rallier a l'idee federative,
iJ
qui est par excellence l'idee liberale et republicaine (my
italics).
These w o r d s are surprising because they w e r e w r i t t e n at a time

w h e n there existed hardly a n y evidence — at any rate n o t for p e o p l e
u n a c q u a i n t e d w i t h the course of the A m e r i c a n Revolution - a b o u t
the intimate c o n n e c t i o n between the spirit of revolution a n d the
principle of federation. In o r d e r t o p r o v e w h a t Odysse Barrot felt to
be t r u e , we must t u r n t o the February R e v o l u t i o n of 1 9 1 7 in Russia
and to the H u n g a r i a n Revolution of 1 9 5 6 , b o t h of w h i c h lasted just
long e n o u g h t o s h o w in b a r e outlines w h a t a g o v e r n m e n t w o u l d
look like a n d h o w a republic w a s likely t o function if they w e r e
founded u p o n the principles of the council system. In b o t h instances
councils or Soviets h a d s p r u n g u p e v e r y w h e r e , completely i n d e p e n
d e n t of o n e a n o t h e r , w o r k e r s ' , soldiers', a n d p e a s a n t s ' councils in
the case of Russia, the m o s t d i s p a r a t e kinds of councils in the case
of H u n g a r y , n e i g h b o u r h o o d councils t h a t emerged in all residential
districts, so-called revolutionary councils that grew o u t of fighting
together in the streets, councils of writers a n d artists, b o r n in the
coffee h o u s e s of Budapest, s t u d e n t s ' a n d y o u t h s ' councils at the
universities, w o r k e r s ' councils in the factories, councils in the a r m y ,
a m o n g the civil servants, a n d so o n . T h e formation of a council in
each of these d i s p a r a t e g r o u p s t u r n e d a m o r e or less accidental
Hannah Arendt 255
proximity into a political i n s t i t u t i o n . T h e m o s t striking aspect of

these spontaneous d e v e l o p m e n t s is t h a t in b o t h instances it t o o k
these independent a n d highly d i s p a r a t e o r g a n s n o m o r e t h a n a few
weeks, in the case of Russia, o r a few d a y s , in t h e case of H u n g a r y ,
to begin a process of c o - o r d i n a t i o n a n d i n t e g r a t i o n t h r o u g h t h e
formation of higher councils of a regional o r p r o v i n c i a l c h a r a c t e r ,
from which finally t h e delegates t o a n assembly r e p r e s e n t i n g t h e
3 8
whole country could be c h o s e n . As in t h e case of the early
covenants, 'cosociations', a n d c o n f e d e r a t i o n s in t h e colonial history
of North America, w e see h e r e h o w t h e federal principle, t h e
principle of league a n d alliance a m o n g s e p a r a t e u n i t s , arises o u t of
the elementary c o n d i t i o n s of action itself, uninfluenced by a n y
theoretical speculations a b o u t t h e possibilities of r e p u b l i c a n
government in large territories a n d n o t even t h r e a t e n e d i n t o
coherence by a c o m m o n e n e m y . T h e c o m m o n object w a s t h e
foundation of a n e w b o d y politic, a n e w type of republican
government which w o u l d rest o n ' e l e m e n t a r y r e p u b l i c s ' in such a
way that its o w n central p o w e r did n o t deprive t h e c o n s t i t u e n t
bodies of their original p o w e r t o c o n s t i t u t e . T h e councils, in o t h e r
words, jealous of their capacity to act a n d t o form o p i n i o n , w e r e
bound to discover the divisibility of p o w e r as well as its m o s t
important consequence, t h e necessary s e p a r a t i o n of p o w e r s in
government . . .
Freedom, wherever it existed as a t a n g i b l e reality, h a s always been

spatially limited. This is especially clear for t h e greatest a n d m o s t
elementary of all negative liberties, t h e freedom of m o v e m e n t ; t h e
borders of n a t i o n a l territory o r t h e walls of the city-state c o m p r e
hended a n d p r o t e c t e d a space in w h i c h m e n c o u l d m o v e freely.
Treaties a n d i n t e r n a t i o n a l g u a r a n t e e s p r o v i d e an e x t e n s i o n of this
territorially b o u n d freedom for citizens o u t s i d e their o w n c o u n t r y ,
but even u n d e r these m o d e r n c o n d i t i o n s t h e e l e m e n t a r y coincidence
°f freedom and a limited space r e m a i n s manifest. W h a t is true for
freedom of m o v e m e n t is, t o a large e x t e n t , valid for freedom in
general. F r e e d o m in a positive sense is possible o n l y a m o n g e q u a l s ,
and equality itself is by n o m e a n s a universally valid principle b u t ,
again, applicable only w i t h l i m i t a t i o n s a n d even w i t h i n spatial
•units. If w e e q u a t e these spaces of f r e e d o m - w h i c h , following t h e
gist, though n o t t h e t e r m i n o l o g y , of J o h n A d a m s , w e could also call
spaces of a p p e a r a n c e s - w i t h t h e political realm itself, w e shall be
inclined to t h i n k of t h e m a s islands in a sea o r as oases in a desert,
' h i s image, I believe, is suggested t o us n o t merely by t h e
consistency of a m e t a p h o r b u t b y t h e r e c o r d of history as well.
T h e p h e n o m e n o n I a m concerned with here is usually called the
'elite', a n d my quarrel with this t e r m is not t h a t I d o u b t that the
political way of life has never been a n d will never be the way of life
of the m a n y , even t h o u g h political business, by definition, concerns
m o r e than the m a n y , namely strictly speaking, the sum total of all
citizens. Political passions — courage, the pursuit of public h a p p i
ness, the taste of public freedom, an ambition that strives for
excellence regardless n o t only of social status a n d administrative
office but even of achievement and c o n g r a t u l a t i o n — are perhaps
n o t as rare as we are inclined to think, living in a society which has
perverted all virtues into social values; b u t they certainly are o u t of
the o r d i n a r y u n d e r all circumstances. M y quarrel with the 'elite' is
t h a t the term implies an oligarchic form of g o v e r n m e n t , the
d o m i n a t i o n of the m a n y by the rule of a few. F r o m this, one can
only conclude - as indeed o u r w h o l e tradition of political t h o u g h t
has concluded - t h a t the essence of politics is rulership a n d that the
d o m i n a n t political passion is the passion to rule or to govern. This,
I p r o p o s e , is p r o f o u n d l y u n t r u e . T h e fact t h a t political 'elites' have
always determined the political destinies of the m a n y a n d have, in
m o s t instances, exerted a d o m i n a t i o n over t h e m , indicates, o n the
o n e h a n d , the bitter need of the few to protect themselves against
the m a n y , or rather t o p r o t e c t the island of freedom they have come
t o inhabit against the s u r r o u n d i n g sea of necessity; a n d it indicates,
on the o t h e r h a n d , the responsibility t h a t falls automatically u p o n
those w h o care for the fate of those w h o d o not. But neither this
need n o r this responsibility touches u p o n the essence, the very
substance of their lives, which is freedom; b o t h are incidental a n d
secondary w i t h respect to w h a t actually goes o n within the limited
space of the island itself. Put into t e r m s of present-day institutions,
it w o u l d be in p a r l i a m e n t a n d in congress, w h e r e h e moves a m o n g
his peers, t h a t the political life of a m e m b e r of representative
g o v e r n m e n t is actualized, n o m a t t e r h o w m u c h of his time m a y be
spent in c a m p a i g n i n g , in trying t o get t h e vote a n d in listening t o the
voter. T h e p o i n t of the m a t t e r is n o t merely the o b v i o u s p h o n i n e s s
of his dialogue in m o d e r n p a r t y g o v e r n m e n t , w h e r e the voter can
only consent or refuse t o ratify a choice which (with the exception
of the American primaries) is m a d e w i t h o u t h i m , a n d it does n o t
even concern c o n s p i c u o u s abuses such as the i n t r o d u c t i o n i n t o
politics of M a d i s o n Avenue m e t h o d s , t h r o u g h which the relation
ship b e t w e e n representative a n d elector is t r a n s f o r m e d into t h a t of
seller a n d buyer. Even if t h e r e is c o m m u n i c a t i o n between represen
tative a n d voter, b e t w e e n the n a t i o n a n d p a r l i a m e n t - a n d the
existence of such c o m m u n i c a t i o n m a r k s the o u t s t a n d i n g difference
Hannah Arendt 257
between the g o v e r n m e n t s of the British and the Americans, on one
side, a n d those of Western Europe, on the other - this communi
cation is never between equals bur between those who aspire to
govern a n d those w h o consent to be governed. It is indeed in the
very n a t u r e of the p a r t y system to replace 'the formula "govern
ment of the people by the p e o p l e " by this formula: "government of
9
the p e o p l e by an elite sprung from the people" V'
It has been said t h a t 'the deepest significance of political parties'
m u s t be seen in their providing 'the necessary framework enabling
the masses t o recruit from a m o n g themselves their own elites',
a n d it is t r u e e n o u g h t h a t it was primarily the parties which opened
political careers to m e m b e r s of the lower classes. N o doubt the
p a r t y as t h e o u t s t a n d i n g institution of democratic government
c o r r e s p o n d s t o one of the major trends of the modern age, the
c o n s t a n t l y a n d universally increasing equalization of society; but
this by n o m e a n s implies that it corresponds to the deepest
significance of revolution in the modern age as well. The 'elite
s p r u n g from the p e o p l e ' has replaced the pre-modern elites of birth
a n d w e a l t h ; it has n o w h e r e enabled the people qua people to make
their e n t r a n c e into political life and to become participators in
public affairs. T h e relationship between a ruling elite and the
people, between the few, w h o a m o n g themselves constitute a public
space, a n d the m a n y , w h o spend their lives outside it and in
obscurity, h a s remained unchanged. From the viewpoint of revolu
tion a n d the survival of the revolutionary spirit, the trouble does
n o t lie in the factual rise of a new elite; it is not the revolutionary
spirit but the d e m o c r a t i c mentality of an egalitarian society that
tends to d e n y the o b v i o u s inability and conspicuous lack of interest
of large p a r t s of the population in political matters as such. The
t r o u b l e lies in the lack of public spaces to which the people at large
w o u l d h a v e e n t r a n c e a n d from which an elite could be selected, or
rather, w h e r e it could select itself. The trouble, in other words, is
t h a t politics has become a profession and a career, and that the
'elite' therefore is being chosen according t o standards and criteria
w h i c h are themselves profoundly unpolitical. It is in the nature of
all p a r t y systems t h a t the authentically political talents can assert
themselves only in rare cases, and it is even rarer that the
specifically political qualifications survive the petty manoeuvres of
p a r t y politics with its d e m a n d s for plain salesmanship. Of course
the men w h o sat in the councils were also an elite, they were even the
only political elite, of the people and sprung from the people, the
m o d e r n w o r l d has ever seen, b u t they were not nominated trorn
a b o v e a n d n o t s u p p o r t e d from below. With respect to the
elementary councils t h a t s p r u n g u p wherever people lived or
w o r k e d together, one is tempted t o say t h a t they h a d selected
themselves; those w h o organized themselves were those w h o cared
a n d those w h o t o o k the initiative; they w e r e the political elite of the
people b r o u g h t into the o p e n by the revolution. From these
'elementary republics', the councilmen t h e n chose their deputies for
the next higher council, a n d these deputies, again, w e r e selected by
their peers, they w e r e n o t subject t o any pressure either from above
or from below. Their title rested on n o t h i n g but the confidence of
their equals, a n d this equality was n o t n a t u r a l b u t political, it was
n o t h i n g they h a d been b o r n with; it w a s the equality of those w h o
h a d c o m m i t t e d themselves to, and n o w were engaged in, a joint
enterprise. Once elected a n d sent into the next higher council, the
deputy found himself again a m o n g his peers, for the deputies on
any given level in this system were those w h o had received a special
trust. N o d o u b t this form of government, if fully developed, w o u l d
have assumed again the shape of a p y r a m i d , w h i c h , of course, is the
shape of an essentially authoritarian g o v e r n m e n t . But while, in all
a u t h o r i t a r i a n government w e k n o w of, a u t h o r i t y is filtered d o w n
from above, in this case authority w o u l d have been generated
neither at the t o p n o r at the b o t t o m , b u t on each of the p y r a m i d ' s
layers; a n d this obviously could constitute the solution t o o n e of the
most serious p r o b l e m s of all m o d e r n politics, w h i c h is n o t h o w to
reconcile freedom a n d equality but h o w t o reconcile equality a n d
authority.
(To avoid m i s u n d e r s t a n d i n g : The principles for the selection of
the best as suggested in the council system, the principle of self-
selection in the grass-roots political o r g a n s , a n d the principle of
personal trust in their development into a federal form of govern
ment are not universally valid; they are applicable only within the
political realm. T h e cultural, literary, a n d artistic, the scientific a n d
professional a n d even the social elites of a c o u n t r y are subject t o
very different criteria a m o n g which the criterion of equality is
conspicuously absent. But so is the principle of a u t h o r i t y . T h e r a n k
of a poet, for instance, is decided neither by a vote of confidence of
his fellow poets n o r by fiat coming from the recognized m a s t e r , b u t ,
on the contrary, by those w h o only love poetry a n d are i n c a p a b l e of
ever writing a Une. T h e r a n k of a scientist, on the other h a n d , is
indeed determined by his fellow scientists, but n o t o n the basis of
highly personal qualities and qualifications; the criteria in this
instance are objective a n d beyond a r g u m e n t or persuasion. Social
elites, finally, at least in a n egalitarian society w h e r e neither birth
Hannah Arendt 259
nor wealth c o u n t , c o m e i n t o being t h r o u g h processes of discrimina
tion.)
It would be t e m p t i n g t o spin o u t further the potentialities of the
councils, b u t it certainly is wiser t o say with Jefferson, 'Begin t h e m
only for a single p u r p o s e ; they will s o o n s h o w for w h a t others they
are the best i n s t r u m e n t s ' - t h e best i n s t r u m e n t s , for example, for
breaking u p the m o d e r n m a s s society, with its d a n g e r o u s tendency
toward the f o r m a t i o n of pseudo-political mass m o v e m e n t s , or
rather, the best, the m o s t n a t u r a l w a y for interspersing it at the
grass roots w i t h a n 'elite' t h a t is chosen by n o o n e b u t constitutes
itself. T h e joys of p u b l i c h a p p i n e s s a n d the responsibilities for
public business w o u l d t h e n b e c o m e the s h a r e of those few from all
walks of life w h o h a v e a taste for public freedom a n d c a n n o t be
' h a p p y ' w i t h o u t it. Politically, they are the best, a n d it is the task of
good g o v e r n m e n t a n d t h e sign of a well-ordered republic to assure
them of their rightful place in the public realm. T o be sure, such an
'aristocratic' form of g o v e r n m e n t w o u l d spell the end of general
suffrage as w e u n d e r s t a n d it t o d a y ; for only those w h o as voluntary
members of a n ' e l e m e n t a r y republic' h a v e d e m o n s t r a t e d that they
care for m o r e t h a n their p r i v a t e h a p p i n e s s and are concerned a b o u t
the state of the w o r l d w o u l d have the right t o be heard in the
conduct of the business of the republic. H o w e v e r , this exclusion
from politics s h o u l d n o t b e d e r o g a t o r y , since a political elite is by
no means identical with a social o r cultural o r professional elite.
The exclusion, m o r e o v e r , w o u l d n o t d e p e n d u p o n an outside b o d y ;
if those w h o b e l o n g are self-chosen, those w h o d o not belong are
self-excluded. A n d such self-exclusion, far from being arbitrary
discrimination, w o u l d in fact give substance a n d reality to one of
the m o s t i m p o r t a n t negative liberties w e have enjoyed since the end
of the ancient w o r l d , n a m e l y , freedom from politics, which was
u n k n o w n to R o m e o r A t h e n s a n d which is politically p e r h a p s the
most relevant p a r t of o u r C h r i s t i a n heritage. .
This, a n d p r o b a b l y m u c h m o r e , w a s lost w h e n the spirit of
revolution - a n e w spirit a n d the spirit of beginning something new
- failed t o find its a p p r o p r i a t e institution. There is nothing that
could c o m p e n s a t e for this failure or prevent it from becoming final,
except m e m o r y a n d recollection. A n d since the storehouse ot
m e m o r y is k e p t a n d w a t c h e d over by the p o e t s , w h o s e business it is
to find a n d m a k e t h e w o r d s we live by, it may be wise to turn in
conclusion t o t w o of t h e m (one m o d e r n , the other ancient) in order
to find a n a p p r o x i m a t e articulation of the actual content of o u r lost
treasure. T h e m o d e r n p o e t is Rene C h a r , perhaps the most
articulate of the m a n y French w r i t e r s a n d artists w h o joined the
Resistance during the Second W o r l d W a r . His b o o k of aphorisms
w a s written d u r i n g the last year of the w a r in a frankly apprehen
sive anticipation of liberation; for h e k n e w t h a t as far as they were
concerned, there w o u l d be not only the w e l c o m e liberation from
G e r m a n o c c u p a t i o n b u t liberation from the ' b u r d e n ' of public
business as well. Back they w o u l d h a v e t o go t o the epaisseur triste
of their private lives a n d pursuits, t o the 'sterile d e p r e s s i o n ' of the
p r e - w a r years, w h e n it w a s as t h o u g h a curse h u n g over everything
they did: 'If I survive, I k n o w that I shall have t o b r e a k w i t h the
a r o m a of these essential years, silently reject (not repress) my
treasure.' T h e t r e a s u r e , h e t h o u g h t , w a s t h a t he h a d 'found himself,
that he no longer suspected himself of 'insincerity', that he needed no
m a s k a n d n o make-believe to a p p e a r , t h a t wherever he w e n t he
a p p e a r e d as he w a s to others and t o himself, t h a t h e could afford 'to
41
go n a k e d ' . These reflections are significant e n o u g h as they testify
t o the involuntary self-disclosure, t o the joys of a p p e a r i n g in w o r d
a n d deed w i t h o u t equivocation and w i t h o u t self-reflection t h a t are
inherent in action. A n d yet they are p e r h a p s t o o ' m o d e r n ' , t o o self-
centred to hit in p u r e precision the centre of t h a t ' i n h e r i t a n c e which
w a s left to us by n o t e s t a m e n t ' .
Sophocles in Oedipus at Colonus, the play of his old age, w r o t e
the f a m o u s a n d frightening lines:
Mr) &vvai xbv anavxa vi-

xa Xoyov. to 6 ' EJIEI &avfj,
fUjvai HEIO' onoOev neg fj-
XEI TTOXV devregov (bg xayioxa.
' N o t t o be b o r n prevails over all m e a n i n g uttered in w o r d s ; by far

the second-best for life, o n c e it has a p p e a r e d , is t o go as swiftly as
possible whence it c a m e . ' T h e r e h e also let us k n o w , t h r o u g h the
m o u t h of T h e s e u s , the legendary founder of Athens a n d hence her
s p o k e s m a n , w h a t it w a s t h a t enabled o r d i n a r y m e n , y o u n g a n d o l d ,
t o bear life's b u r d e n : it w a s the polis, the space of m e n ' s free deeds
a n d living w o r d s , w h i c h could e n d o w life w i t h s p l e n d o u r - xbv
P'LOV ha/xnobv noieioOai.
Hannah Arendt 261
NOTES
x
In the letter to John Cartwright, 5 June 1824.
This quotation is from a slightly earlier period when Jefferson proposed
to divide the counties 'into hundreds'. (See letter to John Tyler, 26 May
1810.) Clearly, the wards he had in mind were to consist of about a
hundred men.
3
Letter to Cartwright, quoted previously.
5
Letter to Samuel Kercheval, 12 July 1816.
The citations are drawn from the letters just quoted.
7
Letter to Samuel Kercheval, 5 Sept. 1816.
8
Letter to Thomas Jefferson Smith, 21 Feb. 1825.
Letter to Cartwright, quoted previously.
Letter to John Tyler, quote previously.
The citations are drawn from the letter to Joseph C. Cabell of 2 Feb.
1816, and from the two letters to Samuel Kercheval already quoted.
George Soule, The Coming American revolution, New York, 1934,
p. 53.
1 3
For Tocqueville, see author's Introduction to Democracy in America;
for Marx, Die Klassenkampfe in Frankreich, 1840-1850 (1850), Berlin,
1951, p. 124.
1 4
In 1871 Marx called the Commune die endlich entdeckte politische
Form, unter der die okonomische Befreiung der Arbeit sich vollziehen
konnte, and called this its 'true secret'. (See Der Biirgerkrieg in
Frankreich (1871), Berlin, 1952, pp. 71, 76.) Only two years later,
however, he wrote: 'Die Arbeiter miissen . . . auf die entschiedenste
Zentralisation der Gewalt in die Hande der Staatsmacht hinwirken. Sie
diirfen sich durch das demokratische Gerede von Freiheit der Gemein-
den, von Selbstregierung usw, nicht irre machen lassen' (in Enthul-
lungen iiber den Kommunistenprozess zu Koln (Sozialdemokratische
Bibliothek Bd. IV), Hattingen Zurich, 1885, p. 81). Hence, Oskar
Anweiler, to whose important study of the council system, Die
Rdtebewegung in Russland 1905-1921, Leiden, 1958, I am much
indebted, is quite right when he maintains: 'Die revolutionaren
Gemeinderate sind fur Marx nichts weiter als zeirweilige politische
Kampforgane, die die Revolution vorwartstreiben sollen, er sieht in
ihnen nicht die Keimzellen fur eine grundlegende Umgestaltung der
Gesellschaft, die vielmehr von oben, durch die proletarische zentralistis-
che Staatsgewalt, erfolgen soil' (p. 19).
1 5
I am following Anweiler, p. 101.
1 6
The enormous popularity of the councils in all rwentieth-century
revolutions is sufficiently well known. During the German revolution of
1918 and 1919, even the Conservative party had to come to terms with
the Rate in its election campaigns.
1 7
In the words of Levine, a prominent professional revolutionist, during
the revolution in Bavaria: 'Die Kommunisten treten nur fur eine
Raterepublik ein, in der die Rate eine kommunistische Mehrheit haben.'
See Helmut Neubauer, 'Miinchen und Moskau 1918-1919: Zur
Geschichte der Ratebewegung in Bayern', Jahrbiicher fur Geschichte
Osteuropas, Beiheft 4, 1958.
1 8
See the excellent study of The Paris Commune of 1871, London, 1937,
by Frank Jellinek, p. 27.
1 9
See Anweiler, Die Ratebewegung, p. 45.
2 0
Maurice Duverger - whose book on Political Parties. Their Organiza
tion and Activity in the Modern State (French edition, 1951), New
York, 1961, supersedes and by far excels all former studies on the
subject — mentions an interesting example. At the elections to the
National Assembly in 1871, the suffrage in France had become free, but
since there existed no parties the new voters tended to vote for the only
candidates they knew at all, with the result that the new republic
became the 'Republic of Dukes.'
2 1
The record of the secret police in fostering rather than preventing
revolutionary activities is especially striking in France during the Second
Empire and in Tsarist Russia after 1880. It seems, for example, that
there was not a single anti-government action under Louis Napoleon
which had not been inspired by the police; and the more important
terrorist attacks in Russia prior to war and revolution seem all to have
been police jobs.
2 2
Thus, the conspicuous unrest in the Second Empire, for instance, was
easily contradicted by the overwhelmingly favourable outcome of
Napoleon Ill's plebiscites, these predecessors of our public-opinion
polls. The last of these, in 1869, was again a great victory for the
Emperor; what nobody noticed at the time and what turned out to be
decisive a year later was that nearly 15 per cent of the armed forces had
voted against the Emperor.
2 3
Quoted from Jellinek, The Paris Commune, p. 194.
2 4
One of the official pronouncements of the Parisian Commune stressed
this relation as follows: 'C'est cette idee communale poursuivie depuis le
douzieme siecle, affirmee par la morale, le droit et la science qui vient de
triompher le 18 mars 1871.' See Heinrich Koechlin, Die Pariser
Commune von 1871 im Bewusstsein ihrer Anhanger, Basel, 1950, p. 66.
2 5
Jellinek, The Paris Commune, p. 7 1 .
2 6
Anweiler, Die Ratebewegung, p. 127, quotes this sentence by Trotsky.
2 7
For the latter, see Helmut Neubauer, 'Miinchen und Moskau'.
2 8
See Oskar Anweiler, 'Die Rate in der ungarischen Revolution', in
Osteuropa, vol. VIII, 1958.
2 9
Sigmund Neumann, 'The Structure and Strategy of Revolution: 1848
and 1948', in The Journal of Politics, Aug. 1949.
3 0
Anweiler, Die Ratebewegung, p. 6, enumerates the following general
characteristics: '(1) Die Gebundenheit an eine bestimmte abhangige
oder unterdruckte soziale Schicht, (2) die radikale Demokratie als Form,
Hannah Arendt 263
(3) die revolutionare Art der Entstehung', and then comes to the
conclusion: 'Die diesen Raten zugrundeliegende Tendenz, die man als
'Rategedanken' bezeichnen kann, ist das Streben nach einer moglichst
unmittelbaren, weitgehenden und unbeschrankten Teilnahme des Ein-
zelnen am offentlichen Leben . . .'
In the words of the Austrian socialist Max Adler, in the pamphlet
Demokratie und Ratesystem, Wien, 1919. The booklet, written in the
midst of the revolution, is of some interest because Adler, although he
saw quite clearly why the councils were so immensely popular,
nevertheless immediately went on to repeat the old Marxist formula
according to which the councils could not be anything more than merely
'eine revolutionare Uebergangsform', at best, 'eine neue Kampfform des
sozialistischen Klassenkampfes'.
Rosa Luxemburg's pamphlet on The Russian Revolution, translated by
Bertram D. Wolfe, 1940, from which I quote, was written more than
four decades ago. Its criticism of the 'Lenin-Trotsky theory of dictator
ship' has lost nothing of its pertinence and actuality. To be sure, she
could not foresee the horrors of Stalin's totalitarian regime, but her
prophetic words of warning against the suppression of political freedom
and with it of public life read today like a realistic description of the
Soviet Union under Khrushchev: 'Without general elections, without
unrestricted freedom of press and assembly, without a free struggle of
opinion, life dies out in every public institution, becomes a mere
semblance of life, in which only the bureaucracy remains the active
element. Public life gradually falls asleep, a few dozen party leaders of
inexhaustible energy and boundless experience direct and rule. Among
them, in reality only a dozen outstanding heads do the leading and an
elite of the working class is invited from time to time to . . . applaud the
speeches of the leaders, and to approve proposed resolutions unani
mously - at bottom, then, a clique affair. . . .'
See Jellinek, The Paris Commune, pp. 129 ff.
See Anweiler, Die Ratebewegung p. 110.
It is quite characteristic that in its justification of the dissolution of the
workers' councils in December 1956, the Hungarian government
complained: 'The members of the workers' council at Budapest wanted
to concern themselves exclusively with political matters.' See Oskar
Anweiler's article quoted previously.
Thus Duverger, Political Parties, p. 419.
Quoted from Heinrich Koechlin, Die Pariser Commune, p. 224.
For details of this process in Russia, see Anweiler's book, Die
Ratebewegung, pp. 155-8, and also the same author's article on
Hungary.
Duverger, Political Parties, p. 425.
Ibid., p. 426.
Rene Char, Feuillets d'Hypnos, Paris, 1946. For the English translation,
see Hypnos Waking: Poems and Prose, New York, 1956.
Index
'absolute freedom' 191-5 'behavioural sciences' 129

'absolute spirit' 188-9 Belinsky, V. 18
academic study of politics 2 3 2 - 7 Bentham, J. 36,40,43,223
accountability 140 Berger,P. 149
Ackerman, B.A. 176 Berlin, I. 7-8
acquisition on liberty 15-26
of additional capacities 83 Burke, E. 19,32,144,200,205
of holdings 107-8
action Caesar, Julius 134,244
intelligibility of 130-2 Campbell,/. K. 151
intentions and 127-30 Carr, E.H. 224
modernist view of 125 Carter, J.E. 75
narratives and 133-8 Cato 239
self-moved, and politics 224-6 Chamberlain, W., as example of
settings for 128-9 distributive justice 115-17
Acton, J.E.E. 31,221 Char, R. 259
Adams, J. 255 character, friendship and self-
agency 166 knowledge 171-6
alienation 183,186 choice 40
anarchists 121 hedonism as method of 53-7
Andromache 126,134 of rival goods 146-7
Angel, Sir N. 224 civil rights see rights
Anscombe, G.E.M. 59 coercion 16, 20, 82
Aquinas, Thomas 97 Collingwood, R.G. 98
Arendt, H. 7, 11 common sense precepts and justice
on revolutionary tradition 44-5
239-63 community/society
aristocratic concept and honour homogenization of 193-6
150 honour and dignity
Aristotle 57, 97,126, 134-5, 179 concepts 153,156
individual and 143,178-99
autocracy and liberty 2 1 - 2 , 2 6 - 9
passim
Bakunin,M. 250 justice and 167-8
language of 182-4
Barrot, O. 254
liberty in 185-6,191-5
Becket, Thomas 134-5
particular, birth into 95-6
behaviour see action
266 Index
political 219-38 on liberalism 60—79
see also environment
Condorcet, Marquis de 21,36 economic
congenital differences 82-4 freedom 16
conservatives, American 61—3, incentives 1 17, 120
72-5 market 6 6 - 9 , 7 1 - 3 , 76
constraints, libertarian 105-6 Edgeworth, F.Y. 40, 43
Constant, B. 1 7 , 1 9 , 2 6 - 8 education
'constructivism' 169 inequality and 8 6 - 7
contract view of right and good political 219-38
48-53 egalitarianism see equality
contrasts, right and good 37-59 Elias,N. 151
conversation 133—4 elite 2 5 6 - 7
corruption in government 241—2 embedding 134-5, 145
council system, revolutionary embourgeotsement of concept of
239-63 passim honour 151—2
Cromwell, O. 250 empirical activity, politics as
Crosland, A. 98 2 2 1 - 2 , 224
current time-slice principles end-state principle of distributive
109-11 justice 1 0 9 - 1 1 , 1 1 8
see also patterning
Dahrendorf, R. 126 ends and means 103,225—6
deinstitutionalization 155, 157 Engels, F. 135
democracy entitlement theory 47, 107-9
conservatism and 73—4 see also justice, distributive
dissatisfaction with 186-7, entrepreneur in socialist society
195-7 117
liberalism and 69—71 environment, inequality in 8 2 - 7
liberty and 28 see also community
deontology equality 18,60-79
justice as 40—1 distributive 1 1 - 1 3 , 6 2 - 7 1
liberating project of 1 6 0 - 1 , law and 6 9 - 7 1 , 8 0 , 8 2
168-71 liberty and 4 1 , 6 0 - 3
Descartes, R. 126 value and merit 80-99
Deschamps, E. 150 see also inequality; justice,
deserving 47 distributive
differences, individual 8 1 - 4 , Erasmus 20
95-6, 105 'essence'of individual 181,189
dignity, concept of 150, 153, ethics see moral; Moralitdt;
157-8 Sittlichkeit
distribution 1 1 - 1 3 , 6 2 - 7 1 expectations, legitimate, and moral
see also equality desert 4 4 - 8
distributive justice see justice
dominant-end conception of fairness see justice as fairness
deliberation 53 Falstaff and concept of honour
Dumont, L. 209 152,154
Dworkin, R. 8-9, 160 family as basis for inequality 84-6
Index 267
Fiacco, A. 119 and Kant 5,7,10,177-8,191
FichteJ.G. 192 193
Ford, G.R. 75 Heidegger, M. 136, 156
Ford,H. 113 Helvetius 34
France, revolution 239-40, Henry II, King 134-5
245-54 passim 262 Herder, J.G. 190,193
freedom see liberty hereditary differences 82-4
Fried, C. 203 hierarchical view of society and
Friedman, M. 100 honour 150-1
friendship, self-knowledge and Hippocrates of Cos 211
character 171-6 historical and end-result principles
of distributive justice 109-11,
Gallie, W.B. 97 118
Gehlen, A. 155,157 history and pol itics 177-99
Geist, 180-1 see also tradition
genres 134 Hitler, A. 253
Germany, revolution 2 5 0 - 1 Hobbes,T. 19,34,169
goal Hobsbawm, P. 136
'final', of individual 181 holdings, justice in 107-9, 1 ] 4,
moral 101-3 120-1
Goffman,E. 126,143,156 Holmes, O.W. 80
good, the, concept of 141-2, homogenization of society 193-6
146-7 honour as obsolescent
justice and 159-76 concept 149-58
utilitarianism and 101 Humboldt, K.W. von 190
see also right and good; virtues Hume, D. 43, 97-8, 139,162-3,
Greek polis 1 7 9 , 1 8 7 , 1 9 0 , 1 9 7 165, 201
Green, T.H. 35
GrenfellJ. 137 H u n g r y , revolution 251,254-5
gun control, American 75
Guttenplan, S. 147 idea
abstract, of politics 223, 230
happiness, justice as 44 state as expression of 188
Hardy, B. 133 identity see individual
Hare, R.M. 146 ideological style of politics 222-9
harmony, final 30 ignorance and justice 50
Hart, H.L.A. 4 independence of individual 162,
Hayek, F.A. von 120 166, 168-71
on equality, value and merit see also individual, differences
80-99 individual/self
healthcare 2 0 5 - 6 , 2 1 1 - 1 7 accountability 140
Hector 126,134 community and 143,178-99
hedonism as method of passim
choice 5 3 - 7 differences 81-4, 95-6, 105 see
Hegel, G.W.F. 1 6 , 2 3 , 2 5 , 3 0 also separateness below
on history and politics, Taylor 'essence'of 181,189
on 177-99 ends and means 103
expression 21
268 Index
freedom see liberty below criminal 210-11
identity 138-43 distributive and moral
inviolability 103-5 constraints 4 4 - 8 , 1 0 0 - 2 2
justice and 50 as fairness 3 7 - 5 9 , 1 5 4 - 6 1 ,
knowledge 171-6 167-8
liberty 1 2 , 1 9 - 2 1 , 2 3 - 5 , 8 0 - 1 , good, the 159-76
157' as happiness 44
modernity and 125-6,142—4, historical and end-result
153-6 principles 1 0 9 - 1 1 , 1 1 8
morality 160,168 in holdings 1 0 7 - 9 , 1 1 4
moved manner of individual and 50
activity 2 2 4 - 6 inequality and 94
narrative 138-41, 145 law and 210-11
objectivity 147 liberty upsets patterns 115-18
rights 7 0 - 1 , 74—5, 1 0 1 - 3 , 1 5 3 , patterning 111—15
157 utilitarianism and 37-59,
roles 138 1 6 0 - 1 , 168
separation from 1 2 5 - 6 , 1 4 3 ,
154-6 Kafka, F. 135
separateness of 162,166, Kant, I. 2 , 3 2 , 6 3 , 1 3 0
168-71 Hegel and 5 , 7 , 1 0 , 1 7 7 - 8 , 1 9 1 ,
tradition and 143—5 193
inequality on individual 1 0 3 , 1 0 5 , 1 6 8
distributive 6 8 - 9 , 7 1 on justice 162
environmental 82—7 on moral law 169
justice and 94 knowledge
result of equal treatment 82 individual 171—6
see also equality political 2 1 9 - 3 8
injustice in holdings 107-9 Knowles, Dom D. 134
see also justice Kristol, I. 120
institutions and modernity 155,
157,186-7 Lamartine, A. de 249
insult and concept of honour language, community 182—4
149-50 law
intelligibility 130-5, 140 equality and 6 9 - 7 1 , 8 0 , 82
intentions and action 127-30 honour and 149-50
interdependence of society 194 justice and 2 1 0 - 1 1
inviolability of individual 103-5 liberty and 1 7 , 2 7 - 8 , 3 1 - 2 , 3 5 ,
61
James, W. 25 Leibniz, G.W. 138-9
Jefferson, T. 1 9 , 2 3 9 - 4 5 , 2 5 9 Lenin, V.I. 1 3 4 , 2 4 0 , 2 4 5 - 8 , 2 5 3
Jesus 179 liberalism
Johnson, D r S . 136 American 60—79
Joyce, J. 138 equality, value and merit 80-99
justice history and politics 177-99
American 6 9 - 7 1 , 74 honour as obsolescent concept
community 167-8 149-58
Index 269
justice and the good 159-76 consciousness 156
liberty, concepts of 15-36 on constraints 137
moral constraints and on creativity 192
distributive justice 100—22 on freedom 193
political education 219—38 on revolution 240, 245-7
revolutionary tradition 239—63 on social laws 30, 34
right and good contrasted on subjectivism 156
37-59 material equality 81
virtues, unity of human life and means and ends 103, 225-6
tradition 125-48 medical care 205-6, 211-17
welfare, membership and need membership, need and welfare
200-18 200-18
liberating concept of deontology Mencius 153
160-1,168-71 merit
liberty distribution and 11-13
absolute 191-5 equality and value 80-99
autocracy and 2 1 - 2 , 2 6 - 9 reward and 89-94, 98
in community 1 8 5 - 6 , 1 9 1 - 5 and value 88-97,113
concepts of 15—36 MillJ.S. 2,224
constraints 105-6 on envy 88
democracy 3nd 28 on 'experiments in living' 32
equality and 4 1 , 6 0 - 3 on personal freedom 17,
individual 1 7 , 1 9 - 2 1 , 2 3 - 5 , 19-22, 28,31
80-1,157 on representative government
justice and 115-18 235
law and 1 7 , 2 7 - 8 , 3 1 - 2 , 3 5 , 6 1 minimal and ultraminimal
'negative' 15-22 state 100-1
one and many 2 9 - 3 4 Mink, L.O. 133-4,136
positive 225 modernity
sovereignty 2 6 - 9 action and 125
spatial limitation 255 dissatisfaction with 191-7
Liverpool, Lord 221 honour concept and 149—51,
Locke, J. 1 7 , 1 9 , 4 3 , 1 3 9 153
love and benevolence 164-5 individual and 125-6,136,
Luxemburg, R. 2 5 2 , 2 6 3 142-4,153-6
institutions 155,157, 186-7
McCormick, G. 119 subjectivity and 155-6,191
Maclntyre, A. 65 monism 32-3
on virtues, unity of human life Montesquieu, Baron de 179,190,
and tradition 125-48 197
M a c k a y J . H . 121 Montrose, Marquis of 146
many and one 2 9 - 3 4 moral/morality
Marshall, T.H. 206 constraints and distributive
Marx, E. 126 justice 100-22
Marx, K. and Marxism libertarian 105-6
on ability and needs 217 minimal and ultraminimal
on alienation and false state 1 0 0 - 1
270 Index
moral goals and 101—3 ideological style of 222-9
side 103-5 parties 257
desert, and legitimate styles 224-9
expectations 44—8 positive freedom 22-5
epistemology, justice of 162-6 poverty 206
individual 160,168 preference-utilitarianism 78
merit and distribution 111-13 privacy 19
order, objective, lack of 168 Procrustes 32
particularities of community and professional revolutionaries
self 143 247-9
politics and 177 Proudhon, P.-J. 250
private 160, 168 provision see welfare
Moralitdt 178-9,185,187
Quixote, Don, as example of
narratives 133—41,145
honour concept 152
nation, particular, birth in 95-6
nationalism 196
need, welfare and membership racial discrimination 74-5
200-18 rationality 4 8 - 9
'negative'freedom 15-22 Rawls, J. 4 - 5 , 8 - 9 , 1 1 9 , 2 0 5
neutrality 6 4 , 6 6 , 1 1 8 on right and good 37—59
nightwatchman state 100 Sandel on 159-75
non-violation of rights 101-3, rectification of injustice 108—9
119 redistribution 69,207
Nozick, R. 8-9,214n see also distribution
on moral constraints and reflection 166
distributive justice 100-22 Reisman, D. 156
remuneration see reward
Paine, T. 19 republic and revolution 239, 241,
Pareto-optimality 121-2 243,258
Parfit,D. 138 resources, preservation of 76
patterning 111-18 revolutionary tradition 239-63
personal see individual reward and merit 89-94, 98
Petrarch 55 right and good contrasted 37—59
philosophical study of politics examples 48—53
236 hedonism as method of choice
Pigou, A.C. 43 53-7
Plato 2 3 , 3 0 legitimate expectations and
pleasure as method of choice moral desert 4 4 - 8
53-7 related contrasts 39-44
pluralism of values 33 see also good
Pole, Cardinal R. 146 rights, concept of 1 0 1 - 3 , 1 5 3 ,
politics/political education 157
219-38 roles and individual 138
as empirical activity 2 2 1 - 2 , separation of 125—6, 143,
224 154-6
history 177-99 rough equality 65-6
Index 271
Rousseau, J.-J. 1 6 , 2 6 - 7 , 1 9 2 - 3 , stories see narrative
195, 200, 208 structural principle of distributive
rural culture and concept of justice 109
honour 151 subjectivity 155-6, 191
Russia, revolution 240, 2 4 5 - 5 5 , 'substance' of individuals 155-6,
262 191
Sumner, W.G. 97
Sandel, M.J. 9 sympathy 38
on justice and the good 159-76
Snntayana, G. 55 Tawney, R.H. 32
Sartre, J.-P. 1 2 6 , 1 3 6 , 1 4 3 , 1 4 6 Taylor, C. 10
satisfactions 37 on history and politics 177-99
Scanlon, T. 214 teleology 4 0 - 1 , 5 6 - 7 , 1 3 7
Schumpeter, J. 8 Theseus 260
Self see individual time-slice principles, current
separateness 162, 166, 168-171 109-11
settings of action 128-9 Tocqueville, Marquis A. de 17,
Shakespeare, W. 17,135 28, 190, 197,245,248-9
side constraints 102—5 tradition
Sidgwick, H. 4 0 , 4 3 , 5 4 - 5 revolutionary 239-63
Simeon 239 and virtues and unity of human
similarity of people 83 life 125-48
simple way of life 76 tragic protagonist 146-7
Sittlichkeit 177-8 1, 1 8 4 - 5 , 188, transfer, of holdings 107-8,114,
190 120-1
Skinner, B.E. 129 Trotsky, L. 134
Smith, A. 19 truth 21
social
action 31 ultraminimal state 100-1
good 105 unemployment 206
laws 30,34 United States
recognition 2 0 0 - 1 8 dissatisfaction with 192
welfare 3 9 - 4 1 , 2 0 0 - 1 8 liberalism in 60—79
society see community revolution 2 3 9 - 4 3
Sophocles 1 5 3 , 1 7 9 , 1 8 7 , 2 6 0 welfare state 209-17
sovereignty and liberty 2 6 - 9 unity of human life, virtues
Soviet Union see Russia and tradition 125-48
spatial limitations of liberty 255 unpredictability 137
spectator, impartial 38 utilitarianism 101-3
'spirit, absolute' 1 8 8 - 9 American 76,78
state 1 8 8 - 9 0 dissatisfaction with 191-3
and the good 1 5 9 - 6 2 the good, concept of 101
minimal and ultraminimal justice and 3 7 - 5 9 , 1 6 0 - 1 , 1 6 8
100-1
see also community value 33
Stebbing, L.S. 98 merit and 8 0 - 9 9 , 1 1 3
Stephen, J. 21 Van Fraasen, B.C. 146
272 Index
Vico,G. 138 on welfare, membership and
virtues 200-18
choice of 1 4 6 - 7 ward system, revolutionary
legitimate expectations and 239—63 passim
44-8 Weber, M. 152,168
and unity of human life and Weil,S. 202
tradition 125-48 welfare, membership and need
see also good; moral 200-18
virtuous society 7 2 - 3 William of Canterbury 134
Volksgeist 182, 189
Zeuxis 236
Walzer, M. 10 Zijderveld, A. 158

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Liberalism and Its Critics

READINGS IN SOCIAL A N D POLITICAL T H E O R Y

Edited by William Connolly and Steven Lukes

Legitimacy and the State edited by William Connolly

©Michael J. Sandel, 1984

First published in 1984 in the U.S.A. by

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Typeset by Katerprint Co. Ltd, Oxford

Liberals often t a k e pride in defending w h a t they oppose -

Within academic philosophy, the last decade or so has seen the

The writings collected in this volume present leading statements of

T h e w o r l d t h a t w e e n c o u n t e r in ordinary experience is one

In view of the ultimate plurality of ends, Berlin concludes,

Welfare rights are fixed only when a community adopts some

c o m p o s e a p a t t e r n a n d at the same time they intimate a

Finally, H a n n a h A r c n d t considers h o w the framers of the

1 Mill, On Liberty, ch. J.

T o coerce a m a n is to deprive him of freedom - freedom from

I a m normally said to be free to the degree to which n o m a n or b o d y

* © Oxford University Press 1969. Reprinted from Four Essays on

i with by others.TJbe w i d e r the area of non-intcrferenc* "thVwitkr J i i y

frontier. ' T h e only freedom which deserves the n a m e is tnat of

The French Revolution, like all great revolutions, w a s , at least in its

N o one saw the conflict between the t w o types of liberty better,

not artificially d r a w n , within which m e n should be inviolable, these

THE ONE AND THE MANY

O n e belief, m o r e t h a n any other, is responsible for the slaughter of

John Rawls: The Right and

• . . The striking feature of the utilitarian view of justice is that it

'Reprinted by permission of the publishers from A THEORY OF JUSTICE

6. SOME RELATED CONTRASTS

It has seemed to m a n y p h i l o s o p h e r s , and it appears to be supported

48. LEGITIMATE EXPECTATIONS AND

There is a tendency for c o m m o n sense to suppose t h a t i n c o m e a n d

This contention is borne out by the preceding a c c o u n t of

68. SEVERAL CONTRASTS BETWEEN THE RIGHT

In order to bring out the structural features of the contract view, 1

84. HEDONISM AS A M E T H O D OF CHOICE

Traditionally h e d o n i s m is interpreted in one of t w o ways: either as

On this point see Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics, pp. 416 f.

. . . Is there a thread of principle t h a t runs t h r o u g h the core liberal

* Reprinted from Liberalism by Ronald Dworkin, in Public and Private

W h a t does it m e a n for the g o v e r n m e n t t o treat its citizens as_e_quals?

I n o w define a liberal as s o m e o n e w h o holds the first, or liberal,

I said that the conservative holds one a m o n g a n u m b e r of possible

supposes they d o unless each citizen has a n equal o p p o r t u n i t y to

In place of a c o n c l u s i o n , I shall say s o m e t h i n g , t h o u g h n o t much,

/ have no respect for the passion for equality,

* Reprinted from Friedrich Hayek, The Constitution of Liberty by per­

biology, with variability as its cornerstone, confers on every

T h e writer justly a d d s t h a t the widely held uniformity theory of

(3) O u r c o n t e n t i o n rests o n t w o basic propositions which probably

(4) M a n y people w h o agree t h a t the family is desirable as an

(5) T h o u g h inheritance used t o be the most widely criticized source

(6) While most of the strictly egalitarian d e m a n d s are based on

(7) T h e incompatibility of r e w a r d according t o merit with freedom

(8) Though most p e o p l e regard as very n a t u r a l the claim t h a t

(9) Justice, like liberty and coercion, is a concept w h i c h , for the

(10) In conclusion w e must briefly look at a n o t h e r a r g u m e n t o n

THE M I N I M A L STATE A N D THE

T h e night-watchman state of classical liberal theory, limited to the

* From Anarchy, State and Utopia, by Robert Nozick © 1974 by Basic

MORAL CONSTRAINTS AND MORAL GOALS

* Reprinted from Friedrich Hayek, The Constitution of Liberty by per

Therefore in o r d e r t o realize o u r n a t u r e w e h a v e n o alterna

T h u s w e see t h a t the a s s u m p t i o n of the mutual disinterested

Abbre Work Comment