Herbert Spencer (1820 - 1902)

Another Great Dickhead of History

Thanks to the internet, the ideas, and reputation, of Herbert Spencer have been enjoying a modest revival recently. According to Damon W. Root, at Reason On-Line (hat tip to Jason Soon), Spencer's reputation as the father of Social Darwinism is undeserved - Spencer was fitted up by ideological opponents who misread and misquoted his works, particularly his first book Social Statics: or, The Conditions essential to Happiness specified, and the First of them Developed.

Social Statics begins with a rebuttal of Jeremy Bentham's utilitarian philosophy - that the basis of morality, and law, should be to secure the greatest happiness for the greatest number. Spencer produces some astute, and telling, criticisms of Bentham's philosophy then begins expounding his own theory of morality:

There is no way of coming at a true theory of society, but by inquiring into the nature of its component individuals. To understand humanity in its combinations, it is necessary to analyze that humanity in its elementary form—for the explanation of the compound, to refer back to the simple. We quickly find that every phenomenon exhibited by an aggregation of men, originates in some quality of man himself...

This fact, that the properties of a mass are dependent upon the attributes of its component parts, we see throughout nature. In the chemical combination of one element with another, Dalton has shown us that the affinity is between atom and atom. What we call the weight of a body, is the sum of the gravitative tendencies of its separate particles. The strength of a bar of metal, is the total effect of an indefinite number of molecular adhesions...

This consideration, though perhaps needlessly elaborated, has an important bearing on our subject. It points out the path we must pursue in our search after a true social philosophy... it hints that the first principle of a code for the right ruling of humanity in its state of multitude, is to be found in humanity in its state of unitude — that the moral forces upon which social equilibrium depends, are resident in the social atom — man; and that if we would understand the nature of those forces, and the laws of that equilibrium, we must look for them in the human constitution. (Social Statics, Introduction: 'The Doctrine of the Moral Sense'

After examining the human constitution, Spencer concludes that each of us - each 'social atom' - is endowed with a 'moral sense'. The way to a happy society lies in each man pursuing his own happiness, according to the dictates of his moral sense and reason. If each pursues his own happiness in this way, the happiness of society as a whole is guaranteed. Unhappiness is nature's punishment on those who do not live according to the dictates of good moral sense and sound reason. Later, Spencer devotes a whole chapter (Chapter 2: 'The Evanescence of Evil') to elaborating this idea with illustrative examples, without adding much to it, beyond the complacent assurance that, in the long run, nature will find a way to get rid of those of defective moral sense and reason.

The conclusion of Spencer's musings on morality is that the only morality worthy of the name is the morality of the perfect man:

... the moral law must be the law of the perfect man—the law in obedience to which perfection consists. There are but two propositions for us to choose between. It may either be asserted that morality is a code of rules for the behaviour of man as he is—a code which recognises existing defects of character, and allows for them; or otherwise that it is a code of rules for the regulation of conduct amongst men as they should be. Of the first alternative we must say, that any proposed system of morals which recognises existing defects, and countenances acts made needful by them, stands self-condemned; seeing that, by the hypothesis, acts thus excused are not the best conceivable; that is are not perfectly right—not perfectly moral, and therefore a morality which permits them, is, in so far as it does this, not a morality at all. To escape from this contradiction is impossible, save by adopting the other alternative; namely, that the moral law ignoring all vicious conditions, defects, and incapacities, prescribes the conduct of an ideal humanity. Pure and absolute rectitude can alone be its subject matter. Its object must be to determine the relationships in which men ought to stand to each other—to point out the principles of action in a normal society. By successive propositions it must aim to give a systematic statement of those conditions under which human beings may harmoniously combine; and to this end it requires as its postulate, that those human beings be perfect. Or we may term it the science of social life; a science that, in common with all other sciences, assumes perfection in the elements with which it deals. (Social Statics, Chapter I: 'Definition of Morality.')

Spencer's morality of the perfect man has one first principle 'the law of equal freedom':

Every man has freedom to do all that he wills, provided he infringes not the equal freedom of any other man. (Social Statics, Chapter VI: 'First Principle.')

This is similar to the definition of liberty given by John Stuart Mill in his essay On Liberty but Mill's topic in that essay was political, or civil liberty, not morality. At first sight, Spencer's 'law of equal freedom' - do what you want, so long as you leave others free to do what they want - doesn't look like much of a basis for a moral system.

Suppose I get up one day and take it into my head that it would be a good day to wander the streets, kicking random strangers in the testicles. Would this violate Spencer's law of equal freedom? Not as long as I am prepared to accept the possibility that others might exercise their equal freedom by kicking me in the testicles. True, that would have incapacitating results, leaving me unable to pursue my freedom to kick others in the testicles, but that incapacity would only be temporary - there would be nothing to prevent me, at a later date, from seeking out my attacker and returning the kick. While this example might suggest that the 'Law of equal freedom' might need a little modification, Spencer gives short shrift to the idea that there is anything missing in this first principle of his moral system:

Upon a partial consideration this statement of the law will perhaps seem open to criticism. It may be thought better to limit the right of each to exercise his faculties, by the proviso that he shall not hurt any one else—shall not inflict pain on any one else. But although at first sight satisfactory, this expression of the law allows of erroneous deductions. It is true that men, answering to those conditions of greatest happiness set forth in the foregoing chapter, cannot exercise their faculties to the aggrieving of one another... The giving of pain may have two causes. Either the abnormally-constituted man may do something displeasing to the normal feelings of his neighbours, in which case he acts wrongly; or the behaviour of the normally-constituted man may irritate the abnormal feelings of his neighbours; in which case it is not his behaviour that is wrong, but their characters that are so. Under such circumstances the due exercise of his faculties is right, although it gives pain; and the remedy for the evil lies in the modification of those abnormal feelings to which pain is given.(Social Statics, Chapter VI 'First Principle.': (original emphasis))

So, if one day you're walking down the street and a complete stranger bounces your knackers off your tonsils with a well placed size 11 Blunny there are two possible explanations: your assailant is a person of defective moral sense and you have every right to feel aggrieved, or your own character is so defective that you cannot recognise the rightness of his action. In view of the latter possibility, we must regard the various laws prohibiting assault as an affront to morality, as Spencer defines it. Unless the assault results in the death of the victim; that would deprive him of the right to life which is such an obvious corollary of his first principle 'as scarcely to need a separate statement'. What, exactly, society should do to uphold and protect your right to life, Spencer declines to say:

Into such questions as the punishment of death, the perpetual imprisonment of criminals, and the like, we cannot here enter. These implying, as they do, antecedent infractions of the law, and being, as they are, remedial measures for a diseased moral state, belong to what has been elsewhere termed Therapeutical Ethics, with which we have now nothing to do. (Social Statics, Chapter VIII: 'The Rights of Life and Personal Liberty')

In fact, looking to part III of Social Statics, there are good grounds for thinking that Spencer's 'law of equal freedom' prohibits the state from doing anything to protect your right to life, if that involves the use of punishment to deter criminal behaviour:

Derived ... as it is, directly from the Divine will, and underlying as it does the right organization of society, the law of equal freedom is of higher authority than all other laws. (Social Statics, Chapter XVIII 'Political Rights')

So high is the authority of the 'law of equal freedom' that every individual has the right to ignore the state (Chapter XIX) and become an outlaw, voluntarily giving up the protections of the state. This might be the proper thing for any perfect man who finds himself living in our society to do because government is 'essentially immoral':

Is it not the offspring of evil, bearing about it all the marks of its parentage? Does it not exist because crime exists? Is it not strong, or, as we say, despotic, when crime is great? Is there not more liberty, that is, less government, as crime diminishes? And must not government cease when crime ceases, for very lack of objects on which to perform its function? Not only does magisterial power exist because of evil, but it exists by evil. Violence is employed to maintain it; and all violence involves criminality. (Social Statics, Chapter XIX: 'The right to ignore the state')

So it appears that in a properly constituted moral state - one which doesn't use criminality to maintain magisterial power - you'd just have to cop it sweet if a random stranger made you the victim of a random act of violence as you were walking along the street. Any punishment for murder which involved depriving the offender of life or liberty would be equally criminal - a truly moral state which upholds Spencer's law of equal freedom would do nothing about it. But nor would it interfere if someone decided to exact a private revenge - in fact, the private revenge, in Spencer's terms, can be justified as the natural penalty for being so deficient in moral sense and reason as to assault or kill someone.

The state's duty - its only duty - is 'to protect — to enforce the law of equal freedom; to maintain men’s rights, or, as we commonly express it—to administer justice.' (Chapter XXI).Beyond this it should not go (Chapter XXII). In particular, it should not infringe on trade by regulating commerce (Chapter XXIII), support an established religion (Chapter XXIV), provide relief for the poor (Chapter XXV), Run schools (Chapter XXVI), establish and administer colonies (Chapter XXVII), come between charlatans and their dupes (Chapter XXVIII) regulate the currency, run a post office, or build lighthouses and other public works (Chapter XXIX).

All these activities are prohibited by 'the law of equal freedom'. They also interfere in the natural process which punishes the immoral and unreasonable for their moral and intellectual deficiencies and weeds them out of the population bringing us ever closer to the perfect society of perfect men. Here's Spencer's argument against preventing the sale of quack medicines ('empirics'):

Inconvenience, suffering, and death, are the penalties attached by nature to ignorance, as well as to incompetence — are also the means of remedying these. And whoso thinks he can mend matters by dissociating ignorance and its penalties, lays claim to more than Divine wisdom, and more than Divine benevolence. If there seems harshness in those ordinations of things, which... visit a slip of the foot with a broken limb — which send lingering agonies to follow the inadvertent swallowing of a noxious herb — which go on quietly, age after age, giving fevers and agues to dwellers in marshes — and which, now and then, sweep away by pestilence tens of thousands of unhealthy livers... be sure it is apparent only, and not real. Partly by weeding out those of lowest development, and partly by subjecting those who remain to the never-ceasing discipline of experience, nature secures the growth of a race who shall both understand the conditions of existence, and be able to act up to them. It is impossible in any degree to suspend this discipline by stepping in between ignorance and its consequences, without... suspending the progress. If to be ignorant were as safe as to be wise, no one would become wise. And all measures which tend to put ignorance upon a par with wisdom, inevitably check the growth of wisdom. Acts of parliament to save silly people from the evils which putting faith in empirics may entail upon them, do this, and are therefore bad. Unpitying as it looks, it is best to let the foolish man suffer the appointed penalty of his foolishness... [T]o guard ignorant men against the evils of their ignorance — to divorce a cause and consequence which God has joined together — to render needless the intellect put into us for our guidance ... must necessarily entail nothing but disasters. (Social Statics, Chapter XXVIII.: 'Sanitary Supervision')

It's thanks to passages such as that one, that Spencer is quite justly regarded as the founding father of Social Darwinism. As remarkable as the fact that he wrote this book in earnest is that he still has his earnest defenders. That they should be on the internet isn't so remarkable.

Mr Burke's Unpleasant Surprise

Edmund Burke - the senior patron saint of Australian Liberalism (but not liberalism) - was first elected to Parliament as the Member for Wendover in 1765. By modern Australian standards he wouldn't be regarded as a democratically elected Member of Parliament - they did things very differently in 18th Century England. Wendover was the next best thing to a rotten borough - a pocket burrough, in the pocket of one Lord Verney, who condescended to accept Burke as his representative in Parliament.

In 1774 Lord Verney informed Burke that he couldn't stump up the readies to get Burke re-elected (in fact, Verney was so strapped for money that he sold the seat out from under Burke) so Burke quickly took himself off to Bristol where he contested a poll for the very first - and last - time in his parliamentary career. It was after winning this poll that he delivered his highly esteemed Speech to the Electors of Bristol where he thanked the electors for the favour that they had bestowed upon him, then went on to set them straight on the matter of "instructions" from electors to their Parliamentary representative:

Certainly, Gentlemen, it ought to be the happiness and glory of a Representative, to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him; their opinion high respect; their business unremitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs; and, above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But, his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgement, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you; to any man, or to any sett of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure; no, nor from the Law and the Constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your Representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgement; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion.

That settled - to Mr Burke's satisfaction, if not the satisfaction of the electors - he took himself off to London as one of the two elected representatives of the freemen of Bristol. While there, he added several dilatory works to the Burke canon:

• Speech on Moving Resolutions for Conciliation with America, March 22, 1775


• Letter to the Sheriffs Of Bristol, on the Affairs of America, April 3, 1777


• Two Letters To Gentlemen Of Bristol, On The Bills Depending In Parliament Relative To The Trade Of Ireland, April 23 and May 2, 1778


• Speech on Presenting to the House Of Commons a Plan for the Better Security of the Independence of Parliament, and the Economical Reformation of the Civil And other Establishments, February 11, 1780

In September 1780 he returned to Bristol to stand for re-election and delivered two more speeches to the electors. In the first, the Speech at Bristol Previous to the Election, (September 6, 1780) he addressed sundry criticisms, from some of the electors, of his performance as their Representative. In the opening of his speech, Burke made his attitude to these criticisms plain:

If you call upon me, I shall solicit the favor of the city upon manly ground. I come before you with the plain confidence of an honest servant in the equity of a candid and discerning master. I come to claim your approbation, not to amuse you with vain apologies, or with professions still more vain and senseless. I have lived too long to be served by apologies, or to stand in need of them.

Having taken a firm stand on his dignity, Burke then answered his critics, starting with "my neglect of a due attention to my constituents, the not paying more frequent visits here". This charge, he considered quite unreasonable:

... I admit, there is a decorum and propriety in a member of Parliament's paying a respectful court to his constituents. If I were conscious to myself that pleasure, or dissipation, or low, unworthy occupations had detained me from personal attendance on you, I would readily admit my fault, and quietly submit to the penalty. But, Gentlemen, I live at an hundred miles' distance from Bristol; and at the end of a session I come to my own house, fatigued in body and in mind, to a little repose, and to a very little attention to my family and my private concerns. A visit to Bristol is always a sort of canvass, else it will do more harm than good. To pass from the toils of a session to the toils of a canvass is the furthest thing in the world from repose. I could hardly serve you as I have done, and court you too ...

Three days later, Burke delivered the second of his 1780 speeches to the Electors of Bristol - and presumably his last speech to those august gentlement - the Speech at Bristol on Declining the Poll, (September 9, 1780). By then it had become clear to Burke - from his own polling - that he had no chance of winning. Nonetheless he managed to put a brave face on it:

...I have not canvassed the whole of this city in form, but I have taken such a view of it as satisfies my own mind that your choice will not ultimately fall upon me. Your city, Gentlemen, is in a state of miserable distraction, and I am resolved to withdraw whatever share my pretensions may have had in its unhappy divisions...

Burke clearly learnt a little about the role of a Parliamentarian as a representative of his constituents from his Bristol experience - when he returned to Parliamentary life, it was as Member for Malton, a pocket borough first of Lord Rockingham's, then of Lord Fitzwilliam's. Presumably their lordships' demands upon Mr Burke's sovereign conscience and his precious leisure time were less onerous than those of the Electors of Bristol.

Mr Burke's Acclaimed Cherry

We are afraid to put men to live and trade each on his own private stock of reason; because we suspect that this stock in each man is small, and that the individuals would do better to avail themselves of the general bank and capital of nations and of ages.

(Edmund Burke, Reflections on the French Revolution)

If you do a quick Google Search for “Edmund-Burke +own-private-stock-of-reason”, you'll find plenty of web pages where that comment on the English attitude to reason is quoted. A few bloggers seem taken with it too. And why not? It's such a fine, juicy looking cherry and always looks ripe for the picking. It has a certain plausibility too, once you get past the distracting metaphor. No wonder that it's considered a good decoration for conservative confections.

What Burke appears to be saying is that no individual is a perfect reasoner – a reasonable enough proposition – and therefore, in making political decisions, we ought to have regard to past practice – tradition – which represents the accumulated wisdom of centuries. That's how Australia's own Owen Harries, presents Burke's remark in a 2003 article published at The American Conservative:

If the complexity of society and the political order was one reason Burke feared radical and rapid change, a second and just as powerful reason was his reservation about the proposed engine of change: the role of reason in human affairs. Burke rejected the Enlightenment view of man as a predominantly rational, calculating, logical being. His rational side exists, but it is a small part of his total make-up. “We are afraid,” said Burke, “to put men to live and trade each on his own private stock of reason, because we suspect that this stock in each man is small” Habit, instinct, custom, faith, reverence, prejudice—the accumulated practical knowledge acquired through experience, all this was more important than abstract reasoning. Collectively, and for better or worse, it constituted man’s nature. (my emphasis)

Kudos to Harries for at least mentioning prejudice in that emphasised sentence, although it does occupy last place in a list of its more respectable relatives. What Harries glosses over here is Burke's very explicit preference for prejudice over reason (others don't gloss over this and even more kudos to them). This isn't an isolated example, but it shouldn't be taken as typical of Harries, or Burkean conservatives in general.

We'll come back to that point later. First, let's take a look at the rest of the bunch that Burke's much prized cherry came from:

You see, Sir, that in this enlightened age I am bold enough to confess, that we are generally men of untaught feelings; that instead of casting away all our old prejudices, we cherish them to a very considerable degree, and, to take more shame to ourselves, we cherish them because they are prejudices; and the longer they have lasted, and the more generally they have prevailed, the more we cherish them. We are afraid to put men to live and trade each on his own private stock of reason; because we suspect that this stock in each man is small, and that the individuals would do better to avail themselves of the general bank and capital of nations and of ages. Many of our men of speculation, instead of exploding general prejudices, employ their sagacity to discover the latent wisdom which prevails in them. If they find what they seek, and they seldom fail, they think it more wise to continue the prejudice, with the reason involved, than to cast away the coat of prejudice, and to leave nothing but the naked reason; because prejudice, with its reason, has a motive to give action to that reason, and an affection which will give it permanence. Prejudice is of ready application in the emergency; it previously engages the mind in a steady course of wisdom and virtue, and does not leave the man hesitating in the moment of decision, sceptical, puzzled, and unresolved. Prejudice renders a man’s virtue his habit; and not a series of unconnected acts. Through just prejudice, his duty becomes a part of his nature.

Your literary men, and your politicians, and so do the whole clan of the enlightened among us, essentially differ in these points. They have no respect for the wisdom of others; but they pay it off by a very full measure of confidence in their own... (my emphases)

I'm particularly taken with this bit of the passage:

Many of our men of speculation, instead of exploding general prejudices, employ their sagacity to discover the latent wisdom which prevails in them. If they find what they seek, and they seldom fail...

At first, I thought that last remark – the declaration that England's men of speculation seldom failed when they went looking for the latent wisdom in general prejudices – might have satiric intent. It does sound a bit sardonic, but Burke is absolutely in earnest. He really does prefer prejudice over reason, to the extent that his “Reflections” are more of a long rant, worthy of any modern day RWDB. In the course of this rant, Burke vents quite a few general prejudices that he cherishes to a considerable degree – such as in this striking passage, where he bemoans the fact that they just don't make revolutionaries like they used to:

Other revolutions have been conducted by persons, who, whilst they attempted or affected changes in the commonwealth, sanctified their ambition by advancing the dignity of the people whose peace they troubled. They had long views. They aimed at the rule, not at the destruction, of their country. They were men of GREAT civil, and GREAT military talents, and if the terror, the ornament of their age. They were NOT like JEW BROKERS, contending with each other who could best remedy with FRAUDULENT circulation and depreciated paper the WRETCHEDNESS and RUIN brought on their country by their DEGENERATE councils.

These disturbers were not so much like men usurping power, as asserting their NATURAL PLACE in society. Their rising was to illuminate and beautify the world. Their conquest over their competitors was by outshining them... I do not say, that the virtues of such men were to be taken as a balance to their crimes; but they were some corrective to their effects... Such were your whole race of Guises, Condes, and Colignis. Such the Richelieus, who in more quiet times acted in the spirit of a civil war... your present confusion, like a palsy, has attacked the FOUNTAIN OF LIFE ITSELF. Every person in your country, in a situation to be actuated by a principle of honour, is disgraced and degraded... But this generation will quickly pass away. The next generation of the “nobility” will resemble the ARTIFICERS and CLOWNS, and MONEY-JOBBERS, USERERS, and JEWS, who will be always their fellows, sometimes their masters. (my shouting and scare quotes)

According to Burke, and his modern disciples, every one of the prejudices he displays here has, at its core, a “latent wisdom” that might be laid bare by a “man of speculation”. Burke's aversion to “money-jobbers, userers, and Jews” must be considered, from a Burkean viewpoint, as the sort of general prejudice that is beneficial to man and society. There are good grounds for supposing that it was, in Burke's time, a general prejudice – either that or Burke seriously misunderstood his readership and he was, by the standard of his own times as well as ours, a stupid bigot. But no-one wants to go there, surely?

Let's put that aside and, on Burke's behalf, state the question we would want a man of speculation to answer:

Why is it a good thing for decent Christian gentlemen to hold and even cherish a deep aversion to money-jobbers, userers, and Jews?

Fallacy twitchers will notice that a couple of prior question has been left begging in phrasing this question:

Is it a good thing for decent Christian gentlemen to hold and even cherish a deep aversion to money-jobbers, userers, and Jews? If so, for whom?

I propose to leave those two questions – important as you might think them – to their own devices and focus on the original question. If it's good enough for the acknowledged progenitor of modern conservatism, it's good enough for me.

A short answer to the Burke worthy question – one that avoids delving into the troublesome history of the Jews' position in English society – is that the commercial activities favoured by Jews – money jobbing and usury – are of a kind, that if unchecked, lead to a disorderly state of society. That's really all we need, but if we cared to press our hypothetical man of speculation, we might obtain a more detailed account of the kinds of disorder that money-jobbing and usury lead to. Personally, I wouldn't care to press that question.

Some might think this answer lacks a little depth but our task, as men of speculation is not to indulge ourselves – particularly not if we are inclined to the sort of dangerous curiosity that might lead to such inquiries as might explode the general prejudice against Jews – but to indulge Mr Burke. The truth (or truths) we might seek – perhaps through a study of the history of relations between Jewish money-jobbers and usurers, on the one hand, and Christian gentlemen on the other – are not what Mr Burke wants. Especially if our inquiries should lead us to conclude that, however conducive it may be to maintaining a particular social order (one, for example where low-born merchants know their place and don't amass fortunes greater than those of their social betters – the landed gentry and the clergy), it might be a little harsh on the Jews. Or, worse yet, that the social order that was served by this prejudice was a pretty rotten one. Would it be wise to impart such findings to Mr Burke and his fellow Christian gentlemen?

I think not – Mr Burke might take us for that most despicable of creatures, a man of enlightenment and respond accordingly. Worse, we place ourselves at risk of succumbing to a belief in democracy, a state of civil society that is not just disorderly, but downright unseemly:

A government of five hundred country attornies and obscure curates is not good for twenty-four millions of men, though it were chosen by eight and forty millions; nor is it the better for being guided by a dozen of persons of quality, who have betrayed their trust in order to obtain that power. At present, you seem in everything to have strayed out of the high road of nature. The property of France does not govern it.

(Cross posted at Larvatus Prodeo)