In the article entitled “Natural Law” by Oliver Wendell Holmes, the author makes several logical errors in describing and defining human nature; these lead to erroneous conclusions concerning the nature of preference and the universality of ethics. The article is stunningly written; such eloquence has rarely been exceeded in all of political history. The ideas being so pleasantly and vividly displayed, it is difficult to look through the sympathetic embellishments and see the rational inconsistencies. To lay bare the shortcomings of Mr. Holmes in deducing the origins of human action --to articulate them explicitly-- I will break down each paragraph into fundamental logical concepts and measure them against rational consistency. I will prove that the blind spots in Holmes’ analysis of natural law are a consequence to his devotion to the state, and the sanctity of the democratic process. As we will see, it would have been impossible for Holmes, from his position, to acknowledge certain objective conclusions that inevitably follow the non-aggression principle, or natural property rights. Because the author himself stands to benefit from obfuscating the nature of property rights and the non-aggression principle (NAP), and because he never acknowledges the conflict of interest inherent in his analysis, he is disingenuous in his portrayal of natural law.
Holmes is part of the government. If we hear a marketing executive talk about a product, we do not expect him to talk about the drawbacks of the product, or how much failure the company had experienced in the past; we recognize that the marketing executive cannot have the mindset of criticizing the practices of the organization or products he represents; that’s not his job, and surely any marketing executive that was spending a great deal of time nay-saying and criticizing his own product or company would quickly find himself out of a job. We understand this basic law of incentive for marketing executives, but can this not be applied to people in government as well? Essentially, Holmes supports violence for the “greater good,” as he presents later in the example of stifling a man in a fire in order to stop its spread and a greater loss of life or property. No doubt he would also support coercive taxation by this principle. Would we expect him to attack the moral validity of coercive taxation while he is being paid by that very method? Why would he come within a mile of philosophy that saw him out of a career? This flaw could be ignorance, except for the fact that Holmes does not even mention his own stake in the game. If he explained, ‘Yes, I am being paid by the state, through coercive taxation; but my arguments are valid nonetheless,” then he would have shown some level of awareness. Instead, he avoids the arguments contrary to his self-interest by promoting the morality of the state via abstract philosophical rhetoric (while dismissing or rejecting contrary philosophical rhetoric as abstract, or non-pragmatic), while never so much as mentioning his own relationship with the state, and what he stands to lose or gain by the proposition of universal secular ethics.
If I were to speak in support of welfare, and was receiving welfare benefits, my arguments for welfare are not necessarily invalid because I receive it; nonetheless, if it is well known that I receive welfare, and I ask for people to promote and support the welfare state, people will recognize my own inevitable self-interest inherent in my actions. Self-interest does not necessarily invalidate the arguments, but recognizing inherent self-interest is crucial to rational integrity. As this applies to marketing executives and the welfare state, why does it not apply to a Supreme Court Justice? Is he not in a more powerful position to establish public opinion, by far, than any of the previous examples? Should not the gravity of his influence encourage a higher standard of rational integrity, not lower? We will discover why it would have been impossible for Holmes to draw any conclusions that would question the fundamental morality of the state, and therefore natural property rights and the non-aggression principle. Had he done so, he would have been forced to acknowledge the coercive and immoral nature of all state authority, and he would have lost a huge investment of time and energy that he spent on a higher education, and dedication to the U.S. legal system.
I find it disconcerting that ‘natural law’ was never actually defined in the article; this is always a red flag: when the prime topic of an article is not defined for the purposes of the analysis. When discussing natural law, it is almost always implicit that the discussion should point to the natural law of property rights, for every element of natural law has something to do with property rights. I will explain natural law of property rights for the purposes of my analysis as such:
Everything in material reality is defined by characteristics unique to its properties or behavior. Copper has characteristics that are objectively measurable, including density, atomic mass, melting point, conductivity, etc. Copper is defined as the only substance that exhibits this combination of characteristics; that is, science dictates that no element can be considered copper that does not meet these qualifications, and if something can be called ‘copper,’ it will always measure, perform, and behave in a consistent manner. Likewise, there are characteristics that make humans unique (bipedal, mammalian, use logic to rationalize behavior, etc.), and based on these characteristics, humans will always behave and perform consistently in certain situations.
The natural law of property rights dictates that the when one expends labor to produce or collect something, they instill within that thing a certain degree of their personal accountability; there is an event in the cosmic history of natural matter, in which it is altered by the will of a living creature. The moment that a personal contribution can be recognized and established, there occurs the inevitable, mathematical consequence of property rights. From the moment a Hermit Crab inhabits a new shell, they exercise their right to fight for resources provided by the earth. Before he inhabits it, any other may rightfully claim it; but once he inhabits it, what person would say that the creature does not have a rightful claim to its use?
Therefore, natural law can be defined as the system of universal preferences and behaviors, and the inevitable logical implications of these preferences and behaviors. I realize the term “universal” is controversial in this definition, but for the sake of this analysis, I will assume there are universal behaviors and expectations. I will show that Holmes does agree with natural law in his assertions regarding universal behaviors and expectations. While he criticizes a priori discernments of those who disagree with him, he stubbornly clings to his own basic assumptions about the nature of society. Indeed, he constructs his very thesis on the basis of such a priori knowledge.
The term “natural law,” however, is not the most accurate term to use to describe the dynamics of praxeology; “natural law” has come to mean many things in philosophy, as some claim it has authoritarian or deterministic connotations. Another way to address what Holmes is criticizing, and how he is contradicting himself, is with the term, “universally preferable behavior (UPB).”
One inevitable logical implication of natural law is the fact of property. If there is any natural law, and it is defined as the system of universal preferences, it follows that there are things that are preferred, and things that are not. It also follows that there can be discernment between preferences that have positive consequences, and preferences that may have negative consequences. If such discernment is possible, it can only be made by individuals. Individuals therefore make rational discernments between the effects of preferences. Once an individual has acted upon a preference, they inflict their will upon the world, and they are bound with the effects of their actions.
If we say a man fells a tree, it is implied that, whatever the circumstances, in the end the man decided it was preferable to fell a tree. It is also implied that, for whatever reason, he thought it was better to fell the tree he felled; that tree, above all other available trees (without considering the possibility of the neoclassical diversion known as ‘indifference,’ as those disagreements are beyond the scope of this analysis).
The man is the only person with claim over his thought processes, and how they translate into action. Therefore, he owns those things; he owns himself. Even a slave, who is technically not self-owned, does indeed have property, because a slave can still choose how to react to their situation. A slave may decide that it is not worth living as a slave, and run away or commit suicide. A slave may decide it is worth the risk to rebel against their master. A slave may decide that it is the best course of action to work hard and try to win favor from their master. Would anyone take from the slave the accountability of these decisions? While a slave has any conscious claim over their actions, they have property. If a man can claim ownership over anything, the concept of property must follow. If a man must manipulate his environment in order to survive, it is inevitable that his actions are a consequence of his person, and that he lays claim over what he does, even if this goes unacknowledged. Therefore natural law and the natural law of property are intrinsically related.
Furthermore, natural law is defined as the inevitable logical conclusion of determining preferable human action. Property is defined as something inevitably, logically and tangibly conjoined to the actions of an individual. If an individual has acted upon something, there is an element of his property in it, however small. An individual owns his thoughts because the dendrites are connecting in their brain in a completely original way, and none but the individual can decide what to do with those thoughts. It is also possible that an individual does not have full ownership of their thoughts, however; such as a child who is abused. In this case, the abuser then owns, to a degree, the resulting damage that occurs in the victim’s brain.
Holmes makes some important references to apriorism, namely in the context of the behavior of the “a priori men,” and the nature of “a priori discernments.” Later in this article, I will explore more thoroughly how the author himself is making ‘a priori discernments;’ evidenced not only by the conclusions he draws, and the call to action he rendered, but also by the foundational flaws in his logical approach, apparent from the very beginning of the article.
“It is not enough for the knight of romance that you agree that his lady is a very nice girl—if you do not admit that she is the best that God ever made or will make, you must fight. There is in all men a demand for the superlative, so much so that the poor devil who has no other way of reaching it attains it by getting drunk. It seems to me that this demand is at the bottom of the philosopher’s effort to prove that truth is absolute and of the jurist’s search for criteria of universal validity which he collects under the head of natural law.”
In the first paragraph, Holmes presents and compares two specific instances to describe a human inclination, or preference, for “the superlative.” This preference is cast as petty, first with the knight demanding praise for his lady, and then with the drunkard in his affinity for inebriation; and in this same vein he presents the nature of philosophy and law.
Holmes has made a bold assertion about human nature in his thesis that subsequently goes unproven in the article: that humans have an inexplicable and powerful inclination toward something he calls “the superlative.” He never addresses the origins of specific important preferences in specific, but rather compares the nature of truth in philosophy and law to other somewhat random, whimsical preferences. This proposition is inherently nihilistic, and I aim to propose a more viable philosophy of the origins of preferences; and (in Holmes words), to find what we should “want to want.” My proposition is based in theory of logic and mathematics and philosophy; in striving toward consistency. I will make the case that universally preferable behavior can be logically rendered consistently in humanity, regardless of background or culture or history.
The very fact that Holmes begins with an assumption of human nature is contradictory to his criticism of a priori discernments. He seems only to disregard a priori discernments if they are disagreeable to his conclusions, but he’s not at all shy about proclaiming his own with casual certainty.
“I used to say when I was young, that truth was the majority vote of that nation that could lick all others. Certainly we may expect that the received opinion about the present war will depend a good deal upon which side wins (I hope with all my soul it will be mine), and I think that the statement was correct insofar as it implied that our test of truth is a reference to either a present or an imagined future majority in favor of our view. If … the truth may be defined as the system of my (intellectual) limitations, what gives it objectivity is the fact that I find my fellow man to a greater or less extent (never wholly) subject to the same Can’t Helps. If I think that I am sitting at a table I find that the other persons present agree with me; so if I say that the sum of the angles of a triangle is equal to two right angles. If I am in a minority of one they send for a doctor or lock me up; and I am so far able to transcend the to me convincing testimony of my sense or my reason as to recognize that if I am alone probably something is wrong with my works.”
This second paragraph contains a shameless argumentum ad populum. Pythagoras’ Theorem is not made any more or less true if I don’t believe it; therefore, one person’s preference cannot change the truth value of objective statements. If that is true, then no number of people’s preferences can alter the truth value of objective statements. Preference can only alter people’s perception of, or decisions in regard to, the truth value of objective statements.
In the same way that 2+2=4 is a statement with objective truth value in the system of mathematics, there are objective universal statements that can be made about the nature of morality; whether it be based in the systems of law or philosophy. He says, “our test of truth is a reference to either a present or an imagined future majority in favor of our view” but I reject this notion. The test of truth in society is not separate in logical analysis from the test of truth in mathematics or philosophy: the test of truth is consistency and rationality, regardless of the application.
For example: if we believe words are meaningful, then we believe the system of language is a universal standard to which we are all subject; regardless of personal preference or experience. If I decide to make up my own language based on my personal preference, I can do so; but if I don’t use logic based on universal preferences, nobody will have any idea what I’m saying. By using words, and grammar, one admits that there is a widespread preference in humanity, regardless of history or society, for universal logical consistency.
If the test of truth shall be whether a proposition may be adopted by an ‘imagined or future majority,’ almost anything can be defined as true, subjective to which reality one is inclined to imagine or predict. Doubtless, the reality a person predicts will inevitably be in line with the action being analyzed, for which they conjure up the supposed future society in the first place. A thief could rightly claim this principle to suppose that because theft is on the rise, then it is destined to become a moral principle; or if one could ‘imagine’ a society in which murder was ‘the norm,’ then murder wouldn’t be morally reprehensible. The test to whether murder is moral is simply the question: would you like to be murdered? It is impossible to like to be murdered; for if one wants it, the act cannot, by definition, be murder (outside, of course, some perverted abstract fantasy that some may hold, of their own victimization).
There is, in anthropology, a value in relating experiences with mysterious cultures with no moral judgments; studies of culture are best conducted apart from the prejudice of the observer. This disconnected, ‘transparent eye’ approach does the service of delivering these questions of inherent moral value undiluted to the philosopher. In philosophy and law, however, unlike anthropology, there is a need to define moral absolutes objectively if a society claims to accept any concept of human rights; thus is the division of labor in human improvement.
He goes on to define truth as ‘the system of my (intellectual) limitations…’ but this is a not an accurate definition. Truth is not only defined by the limits of one man’s intellect, but also must be universally consistent, and its validity must be empirically provable within the system of logic, as mathematical propositions are provable within the system of mathematics. If one man’s intellectual limitations lead him to conclude that the earth is flat, there is not ‘some truth’ to this statement. If an axiom remains constant within the system of one man’s intellectual limitations, it does not mean that the axiom has any truth value in the system of logic, or physics, or any objective analysis.
He then says, “…what gives [truth] objectivity is the fact that I find my fellow man to a greater or less extent (never wholly) subject to the same Can’t Helps.” But this is not what gives truth objectivity. He is claiming, essentially, that the objectivity of the nature of truth is the product of each individual’s subjective understanding of the truth, but this is nonsense. It is nonsense because he is asserting that the sum of all subjectivity is equal to objectivity. If this holds as a logical principle, it is to say that the individual’s understanding of truth defines the nature of truth. This cannot be so because truth is a part of tangible reality, and tangible reality cannot be defined by understanding; rather, understanding is a byproduct of tangible reality. That is, we can define our understanding of truth, and we can seek to define truth, but we cannot alter what the word ‘truth’ means. We may be able to switch around the words and bicker about exactly what makes something true, but philosophically, truth is something that is universally consistent, so cannot be in constant flux, dependent on individual understanding. Rather than giving truth objectivity, these “Can’t Helps” only give life objectivity.
To return to an example provided by the author, the knight prefers praise for his lady. The knight’s valuation of his lady is subjective, but the demand for ‘the superlative’ he lists as universal. All this metaphor does is prove that humans seek objective truth in order to make sense of subjective truth; it does not mean that subjective truth becomes objective if it becomes popular.
“Certitude is not the test of certainty. We have been cocksure of many things that were not so. If I may quote myself again, property, friendship, and truth have a common root in time. One cannot be wrenched from the rocky crevices into which one has grown for many years without feeling that one is attacked in one’s life. What we most love and revere generally is determined by early associations. I love granite rocks and barberry bushes, no doubt because with them were my earliest joys that reach back through the past eternity of my life. But while one’s experience thus makes certain preferences dogmatic for oneself, recognition of how they came to be so leaves one able to see that others, poor souls, may be equally dogmatic about something else. And this again means skepticism. Not that one’s belief or love does not remain. Not that we would not fight and die for it if important—we all, whether we know it or not, are fighting to make the kind of a world that we should like—but that we have learned to recognize that others will fight and die to make a different world, with equal sincerity or belief. Deep-seated preferences cannot be argued about—you cannot argue a man into liking a glass of beer—and therefore, when differences are sufficiently far reaching, we try to kill the other man rather than let him have his way. But that is perfectly consistent with admitting that, so far as appears, his grounds are just as good as ours.”
As humans, we can make universal, objective statements regarding preference, but not without disclosing a motive: if a human wants to live, they ought to eat and drink. We can also make subjective statements about the origins or the ends of preferences, such as, “people want to eat and drink because they have learned that such action will allow them to live, and they want to live,” or “if I eat and drink, I know I will live longer than if I abstain.” Holmes would say, “People eat because they have an impulse to eat.” The tricky part is; it’s true that people eat because they have an impulse to eat, and under most circumstances, one will not eat if they don’t have the impulse to eat. You won’t hear (except from crazy people) philosophical conversations asking, “but why do I have to eat?” Most humans never approach a thorough logical analysis in regard to why they eat, but they often concentrate very hard on what to eat. Holmes presents a tautology, because the statement, “People eat because they prefer to eat” adds no knowledge of people or eating or preferences. In the same way, the statement, “you like to eat because you were raised in a culture of eating,” while it cannot be disproven completely (because nobody could conceivably be raised and live in a culture that did not eat), and it might be true, it doesn’t tell us anything useful about culture, or the individual, or the nature of the impulse to eat. He seems to say, “Well, these preferences, you see, we just have them. Who’s to judge what is a good preference or a bad preference? Isn’t it all rather subjective and paradoxical? Our best interest is served by defining as moral the deepest and most pervasive impulses we have in the majority (current, future, or imagined) of our species.”
Deep-seated preferences (granite rocks, barberry bushes, beer) do not change the objective nature of what is preferred; they only change the perception of the thing. Liking a glass of beer neither reduces nor compounds its effect on the liver. To prefer a moral principle is not to alter the validity of that moral principle. I could say that I like the NAP, but this does nothing to alter the nature of the NAP. The NAP is either a valid or an invalid proposition based on logic. In the same way, a mathematical equation can be approached subjectively, but the answer must be in accordance with universal, objective standards. Like replacing the symbols of a mathematical formula with numeric values, we can place concepts we draw from tangible reality into a logical formula; a formula drawn from universally preferable behavior. The process and experience of using logic is subjective, but the system of logic has objective truth value.
He seems to propose that if a man is driven to violence against another, for the sake of some disagreement, the aggressor, by the very act, validates the views that man may die to defend. Of course, if someone is aggressing against another, they have a fundamental disagreement; the aggressor wants to inflict harm, and the other wants to avoid it. It is also true that whether you are defending yourself against aggression, or initiating aggression, you recognize that the preference of your opponent is more, less, or equally as powerful as the preference of your own that drove you into action. This does not morally validate the preference of either man; it just describes the dynamics of aggression: “Because he attacked me, he must prefer that I die. His preference for my death is as legitimate as my preference to continue living, because we both have the capacity for action” (here, ‘legitimate,’ in the sense that the preference is actionable and worthy of consideration).
“The jurists who believe in natural law seem to me to be in that naïve state of mind that accepts what has been familiar and accepted by all men everywhere. No doubt it is true that, so far as we can see ahead, some arrangements and the rudiments of familiar institutions seem to be necessary elements in any society that may spring from our own and that would seem to us to be civilized—some form of permanent association between the sexes—some residue of property individually owned—some mode of binding oneself to specified future conduct—at the bottom of all, some protection for the person. But without speculating whether a group is imaginable in which all but the last of these might disappear and the last be subject to qualifications that most of us would abhor, the question remains as to the Ought of natural law.”
This paragraph needs to be minutely dissected in order to make a meaningful criticism. “The jurists who believe in natural law,” he says, are in “that naïve state of mind that accepts what has been familiar and accepted by all men everywhere.” Within this statement lies an implication that is logically contradictory, not only to itself, but to other previous assertions made in the article. Can a man be considered naïve for accepting things that are accepted by ‘all men everywhere?’ In saying ‘accepted by all men everywhere,’ does he exclude himself from this category? What is he, if not a man? Is a man foolish if he experiences gravity, and then adopts the theory of gravity that is most familiar in his society? Does the author himself not concede earlier that if a man should find himself “in a minority of one,” then people shall “send for a doctor or lock me up…” and “if I am alone probably something is wrong with my works”? Is he not naïve for supporting the universality of mathematics, if the only test of validity is the subjective views of his associates? He then twists his logic through some stifling caveats: “No doubt it is true that, so far as we can see ahead, some arrangements and the rudiments of familiar institutions seem to be necessary elements in any society that may spring from our own and that would seem to us to be civilized…” (italics are mine). So what are these ‘arrangements?’ He goes on to list some fundamental concerns of property rights; “some form of permanent association between the sexes—some mode of binding oneself to specified future conduct—at the bottom of all, some protection for the person.” (emphasis added) He is apparently unaware that he is talking exclusively of one principle; universal property rights. Of particular importance is the phrase, “some residue of property individually owned.” Though shrouded in abstraction, this phrase implies a number of things; first, that the author acknowledges that property rights must be established to some degree in order for humans to live in ‘civilized society’ as it is considered by himself and his contemporaries (though he does not acknowledge the universality of this principle). Second, that he considers the previously mentioned concerns—permanent association between the sexes, contractual obligation, and personal protection—as separate from concerns of property rights. However, all of these concepts are based on the universality of property rights; not on the subjective majority view within a society. Next, his use of the word ‘residue’ implies that there can be a dilution of this principle to accommodate extraneous or unforeseeable circumstances, but this concept is self-contradictory; property either exists, or it does not. The concept either has consistency and necessity in tangible reality, or it does not. He makes statements regarding the universality of preferences, and subsequently dismisses the validity of the very logic he used to render those conclusions. Holmes thereby inadvertently proves the universality of property rights—for not only would it be impossible to have a future society that does not fit within his parameters (spring from our own, be considered civilized), but it would be impossible to prove that subjective preference led that society to adopt universal secular ethics.
“It is true that beliefs and wishes have a transcendental basis in the sense that their foundation is arbitrary. You cannot help entertaining and feeling them, and there is an end of it. As an arbitrary fact people wish to live, and we say with various degrees of certainty that they can do so only on certain conditions. To do it they must eat and drink. That necessity is absolute. It is a necessity of less degree but practically general that they should live in society. If they live in society, so far as we can see, there are further conditions. Reason working on experience does tell us, no doubt, that if our wish to live continues, we can do it only on those terms. But that seems to me the whole of the matter. I see no a priori duty to live with others and in that way, but simply a statement of what I must do if I wish to remain alive. If I do live with others they tell me that I must do and abstain from doing various things or they will put the screws on to me. I believe that they will, and being of the same mind as to their conduct I not only accept the rules but come in time to accept them with sympathy and emotional affirmation and begin to talk about duties and rights. But for legal purposes a right is only the hypostasis of a prophecy—the imagination of a substance supporting the fact that the public force will be brought to bear upon those who do things said to contravene it—just as we talk of the force of gravitation accounting for the conduct of bodies in space. One phrase adds no more than the other to what we know without it. No doubt behind these legal rights is the fighting will of the subject to maintain them, and the spread of his emotions to the general rules by which they are maintained; but that does not seem to me the same thing as the supposed a priori discernment of a duty or the assertion of a preexisting right. A dog will fight for his bone.
“The most fundamental of the supposed preexisting rights—the right to life—is sacrificed without a scruple not only in war, but whenever the interest of society, that is, of the predominant power in the community, is thought to demand it. Whether that interest is the interest of mankind in the long run no one can tell, and as, in any event, to those who do not think with Kant and Hegel it is only an interest, the sanctity disappears. I remember a very tender-hearted judge being of opinion that closing a hatch to stop a fire and the destruction of a cargo was justified even if it was known that doing so would stifle a man below. It is idle to illustrate further, because to those who agree with me I am uttering commonplaces and to those who disagree I am ignoring the necessary foundations of thought. The a priori men generally call the dissentients superficial. But I do agree with them in believing that one’s attitude on these matters is closely connected with one’s general attitude toward the universe. Proximately, as has been suggested, it is determined largely by early associations and temperament, coupled with the desire to have an absolute guide. Men to a great extent believe what they want to—although I see in that no basis for a philosophy that tells us what we should want to want.”
This is of prime importance: how to determine what we should “want to want.” The author says there is no “basis for a philosophy” stemming from the fact that men “believe what they want to.” This is true, but it is irrelevant to philosophy. In fact, Holmes does not demonstrate any philosophical rigor in claiming that one man’s life may be sacrificed for the “
“Now when we come to our attitude toward the universe I do not see any rational ground for demanding the superlative—for being dissatisfied unless we are assured that our truth is cosmic truth, if there is such a thing—that the ultimates of a little creature on this little earth are the last word of the unimaginable whole. If a man sees no reason for believing that significance, consciousness and ideals are more than marks of the finite, that does not justify what has been familiar in French skeptics; getting upon a pedestal and professing to look with haughty scorn upon a world in ruins. The real conclusion is that the part cannot swallow the whole—that our categories are not, or may not be, adequate to formulate what we cannot know. If we believe that we come out of the universe, not it out of us, we must admit that we do not know what we are talking about when we speak of brute matter. We do know that a certain complex of energies can wag its tail and another can make syllogisms. These are among the powers of the unknown, and if, as may be, it has still greater powers that we cannot understand, as Fabre in his studies of instinct would have us believe, studies that gave Bergson one of the strongest strands for his philosophy and enabled Maeterlinck to make us fancy for a moment that we heard a clang from behind phenomena—if this be true, why should we not be content? Why should we employ the energy that is furnished to us by the cosmos to defy it and shake our fist at the sky? It seems to me silly.
This paragraph is difficult to dissect. What exactly is Holmes implying? Is he saying that because we came out of the universe, we cannot make any valid universal claims about its nature? Once again he invokes the superlative, which has yet to be proven as a universal preference. Is it true that a “part cannot swallow the whole?” That “our categories are not, or may not be adequate to formulate what we cannot know?” The assertion is simply nonsensical, and is easily disproved. There are, for instance, subsets in mathematics that contain the greater set. The paradox is eloquently displayed by mathematicians throughout history, beginning in the Greek tradition. For more on this, I recommend Hoffstadter’s magnum opus, “Gödel, Escher, Bach.” Furthermore, it is nonsensical, as the implicit principle would render such statements as, “we can’t determine the speed of sound, because there may be other factors in the universe of which we are unaware,” or “we can’t say what a mammal is, because our formula for what determines a mammal may not encompass some other creature that is a mammal somewhere in the universe.” The line between reptile and amphibian may be occasionally blurred, and the distinction may be arbitrary to “the universe,” but the categorization is very useful to biologists. Likewise, the line between justified self-defense and aggression may be occasionally blurred, and the distinction may be arbitrary to “the universe,” but that does not mean the categories are not useful to those interested in justice, or morality.
“That the universe has in it more than we understand, that the private soldiers have not been told the plan of campaign, or even that there is one, rather than some vaster unthinkable to which every predicate is an impertinence, has no bearing upon our conduct. We still shall fight—all of us because we want to live, some, at least, because we want to realize our spontaneity and prove our powers, for the joy of it, and we may leave to the unknown the supposed final valuation of that which in any event has value to us. It is enough for us that the universe has produced us and has within it, as less than it, all that we believe and love. If we think of our existence not as that of a little god outside, but as that of a ganglion within, we have the infinite behind us. It gives us our only but our adequate significance. A grain of sand has the same, but what competent person supposes that he understands a grain of sand? That is as much beyond our grasp as man. If our imagination is strong enough to accept the vision of ourselves as parts inseverable from the rest, and to extend our final interest beyond the boundary of our skins, it justifies the sacrifice even of our lives for ends outside of ourselves. The motive, to be sure, is the common wants and ideals that we find in man. Philosophy does not furnish motives, but it shows men that they are not fools for doing what they already want to do. It opens to the forlorn hopes on which we throw ourselves away, the vista of the farthest stretch of human thought, the chords of a harmony that breathes from the unknown.”
It is true that “philosophy does not furnish motives,” but rather seeks to explain and describe what men already want and do. It does not, however, show “men that they are not fools for doing what they already want to do.” It would be more accurate to say, ‘philosophy shows men that they are not foolish for wanting to do what they want to do.’ For, if a man wants to kill another man, philosophy may be applied to understand that there are reasons he wants to perform such an act of violence, and may help him find out what those reasons are. If he kills the man without a philosophical or rational analysis, and applies philosophy to his actions after the fact, it is possible that his actions are determined as foolish. It stands hereto unproven, moreover, that “the motive, to be sure, is the common wants and ideals that we find in man.” I contend that common wants and ideals have not been (and, more importantly, should not be) the prime motive for driving the progress of the human race, and to accept this premise would be counterproductive to say the least. Pragmatists may contend that the economic principle of self-interest, in the libertarian view, is an example of a human want or ideal that has inevitably driven ‘human progress,’ but I reject this notion. Economic self-interest is not a ‘want’ or an ‘ideal.’ One would not say, rationally, that humans want to improve their situation according to their abilities, and therefore I am an idealist; that a man wants not to overpay for a loaf of bread is not a description of an ideal, and I would not say that a man who does not want to overpay is an idealist.
Holmes may be right to say, “That the universe has in it more than we understand, that the private soldiers have not been told the plan of campaign, or even that there is one, rather than some vaster unthinkable to which every predicate is an impertinence, has no bearing upon our conduct,” but he cannot be speaking absolutely for the nature of men, because it is apparent, especially in the latter case of private soldiers, men may well indeed alter their conduct due to a realization that they are a part of a larger ecosystem. In fact, it would be impossible for a soldier of any kind to operate within the military if they did not alter their conduct based on the acknowledgement of some larger body of which they are a part.
Many people have profound epiphanies while considering the size and scope and power of the universe that change the course of technology and humanity. I’m sure Einstein was driven by a “vaster unthinkable to which every predicate is an impertinence,” and the fact that “the universe has in it more than we understand,” but these anomalies did not keep him from making objective truth statements about what he observed and deduced through mathematics.
We can aid our quest of what we should want to want with a simple test of universal logical consistency. Fortunately, Holmes does prove to us that there are certain preferences that are universal, though he calls these arbitrary. The missing link in his argument is the tie between universal preferences and universal property rights. That is; he recognizes that there is a differentiation between two kinds of preferences: universal preferences, such as desiring to live; and non-universal preferences, such as liking a glass of beer. The author then concludes that the human race does not have the faculty of mind needed to make an objective, universal statement concerning the origins, values, and effects of enacting universal preferences. While he may be right, in a way, he contradicts himself here, because he asserts a conclusion regarding the ‘ought’ of universal preferences; he proclaims that it is beneficial for every individual to regard property rights as purely the “hypostasis of a prophecy,” because we cannot reconcile absolute property rights with modern society. But couldn’t this argument be effectively countered by stating that, by his own admission, it is not possible for man to decide what is right or wrong, due to the lack of his understanding, and the endless paradoxes of science and mathematics, and the “vastness of the universe?” Is he not essentially stating, first, ‘you cannot be sure about anything,’ and subsequently professing, ‘you can be sure about THIS!’ One ‘this’ was referred to as the result of ‘putting the screws onto’ someone. He goes on to explain that one can be sure of some social consequences likely to result from various actions, and that we act according to what we perceive to be most efficient to stay alive and in society, as a universal rule.
Gödel’s Incompleteness Theorem helps us recognize the relative value of systems. Douglas Hoffstadter summarized, in his monumental book, Gödel, Escher, Bach ,
“All consistent axiomatic formulations of number theory include undecidable propositions.”
Gödel has proved that no ‘consistent axiomatic’ formula, within any system, real or imaginary, can yield universally consistent and non-contradictory results when applied to every possible set and subset combination of that system. I find this proposition within the system of mathematics to be similar to Holmes’ proposition regarding the unprovability of the origins and ends of human preferences, within the system of sociology. The difference is, while Holmes concludes that the inherent contradictions or inconsistencies of the system invalidate, or at least somewhat diminish, the truth value of otherwise universally consistent axiomatic relations within that system. If this conclusion were asserted in the system of mathematics, it would be like saying that because we cannot determine how to compute the number zero in certain subset combinations, the truth value of any conclusion involving zero is called into question. This would be ridiculous, of course. Just because there are inconsistencies in a given system, we do not disregard the usefulness of the system in all consistent applications. We may not be able to articulate fully the square root of two, but we know that if it is multiplied by itself it will always equal two. If Holmes applied his standard of sociology to mathematics, he may say that because the system of mathematics will not be able to decide the result of every possible axiomatic proposition, and we don’t know why (or even what it means to ask ‘why?’ for that matter), we must abandon the idea that any universal and incontrovertible conclusions can be drawn within the system at all. Would an abstract mathematical theory call into question the fact that a person, having 2 dollars and gaining zero, has 2 dollars remaining? There is no ambiguity in this application, and the conclusion is valid.
Holmes makes some imprecise references to Kant and Hegel. What position held by Kant and Hegel is countered by Holmes? He never articulates which principle he has opposition to, or articulates the nature of his opposition. He simply states their names, and in proper academic fashion, asserts that ‘as long as you’re not one of those Platonic idealists, you’ll accept my counterarguments!”
Based on my admittedly amateur analysis of Hegel and Kant, I suspect Holmes criticism lies in the nature of U.S. diplomatic sentiments at the time he was writing this speech. To mention Hegel and Kant together is to invoke the “C-Word.” This is a cheap attempt to discredit any opposing ideology because it’s ‘basically communist!’ Holmes is saying, ‘unless you’re a communist, you’ll agree that no one man has, absolutely, the right to life!’ The transparency of this motive is truly disturbing, considering his own position in the government, but it is only predictable. I can find nothing in the philosophies of Kant and Hegel that are of great significance in contradicting his premise, so I am left with this conclusion.
Once again, to expect a man to abandon his own self-interest is not realistic. So why would a politician adopt a position that was not beneficial to them? What if the political system incentivizes bad behaviour? The answers, when stated thus, are obvious. Holmes had no incentive to argue for universal property rights, because he was forward-thinking enough to understand that an evaluation of the morality of universal property rights would inevitably lead to the conclusion of his own hypocrisy. He understands that an honest analysis of praxeology and philosophy would, in the end, discredit him and his position.
