The Theory of Moral Sentiments Summary and Analysis by Parts - The Second Shift PDF

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The Theory of Moral Sentiments Summary and Analysis by Parts Part I -Summary: In Part I, "Of the Propriety of Action", Smith lays the groundwork for his moral theory by describing at length the sympathetic nature of human beings. People, Smith says, feel for other people based on imagining themselves in the positions of others -- what is called the imaginative capacity of sympathy. It is important to note that this capacity is based more on the situation someone is viewing than on the feelings of the person being viewed: you may see someone who is oblivious to the impropriety of his or her actions, but you will feel a sensation of embarrassment from imagining how you would feel if you were to commit such improprieties. Interestingly, Smith says that this is how our fear of death comes to be. Those who are dead have no sense of the tangible world, so they cannot in any way feel what it is like to have lost their lives; however, we superimpose our consciousness on the dead when we sympathize. We imagine how horrible such a loss would feel, even though we would not actually feel loss upon death. Smith says that this fear of death is one of the greatest societal safeguards against injustice, and he means by this that sympathy is responsible for the restraint of lethal force. We derive pleasure from sympathy with the sentiments of others, Smith says, because the concord of our own sentiments with those of another individual reinforces our own feelings and convictions. We are delighted to experience like-mindedness. On the other hand, there is nothing more jarring or upsetting than not being able to sympathize with someone else, because this lack of sympathy generates feelings of opposition. When the sympathy of the observer is perfect, the observer's sentiments are in concord with the sentiments of the person observed; it is from this concord that moral approbation arises. Disapprobation, similarly, comes from a complete absence of sympathy.

Because other people are less interested in our affairs than we are, we often must temper our sentiments in order for other people to be able to sympathize with them. This is where the notion of propriety, the proper conduct of oneself in relation to society, comes from. What propriety demands of us varies widely based on specific circumstances, and based on what sort of passions we are experiencing. Smith classifies people's feelings, or passions, as follows: passions of the body; passions from habits of the imagination; unsocial passions; social passions; and selfish passions. Sympathy operates somewhat differently in the case of each class of passion. Passions of the body are very difficult to sympathize with, because they are based entirely on physical stimuli which the observer has no way of experiencing. Tempering sensations such as pain is therefore admirable, because observers know how difficult it is to temper pain, and consequently respect the sufferer for the self control expressed for propriety's sake. Passions from habit of the imagination are those which are only accessible through the unique experiences which a particular person has. Love is a major example of this. Though two people in love have cultivated through habit a powerful attachment to one another, their relationship is not accessible to even a sympathetic observer. Unsocial passions are those such as anger, hatred, and resentment, and are only accessible through sympathy when they seem justified. As a whole, they are disagreeable because, through sympathy, we feel fear for the persons against whom these passions are directed; it is only in cases of tempered resentment brought about by real injustice that one can approve of such sentiments. Social passions consist of sentiments such as generosity, humanity, and compassion. Just as we disagree with unsocial passions based on the fear we feel for their targets, we are most able to connect to these passions when we feel sympathy with their intended targets.

Passions directed toward the self are joy and grief. Smith argues that it is easiest to sympathize with small joys and large griefs. It is easy to be happy for someone when a small goodness takes place, but large joy -- particularly an elevation in status -- excites envy in the observer and interferes with sympathy. On the other hand, a small grief is but a trifle, and observers are likely to see people who grieve over every little thing as having weak constitutions, whereas there is nothing more tragic than seeing someone who has lost everything -- particularly if this afflicted individual tempers his or her surely immense grief. We are more disposed to sympathize with joy than with sorrow, at least when envy does not interfere. This is because joy is much more agreeable for the sympathizer, and also because it is virtually impossible to fully enter into the pain of someone who has experienced true sorrow. This disposition towards joy leads us to admire the rich and powerful through sympathy with their apparent joy and ease in life; this is the origin of ambition. This is also why we almost worship the rich, and are so impressionable when it comes to the fashions and philosophies of the wealthy. People of low rank are willing to work tirelessly to cultivate skills and virtues, and to put themselves in any position where they can demonstrate these abilities and be acknowledged. In contrast, those in power will only take risks of great magnitude -- for example, will initiate wars by which great glory may be gained. Unless the possible returns are that great, they will not put everything they already have at risk. Our admiration for the rich, Smith says, is a major source of moral corruption. As noted above, our admiration for them leads us to have a distorted view of morality, because we are liable to approve of almost anything that they do. Moreover, in seeking approval, we see our options as either being purely wise and virtuous, or being rich and high in status. Thus, though lower-class people who do not have easy access to wealth will happily work towards virtue, people in higher classes often sacrifice virtue for the easier path of being approved of purely as the result of status and wealth. Analysis:

It is useful to know that Smith is approaching moral theory from a school of thought which argues that moral philosophy is open to the methods of proof characteristic of other disciplines, such as math and science. Rather, this pedagogy argues, a theory of morality must be grounded in what resonates with innately human traits. Because morality is inherent to humanity, any theory of morality must be intuitively agreeable to us. So, as Smith presents his various examples and appeals to basic emotional knowledge, you should stop and ask yourself whether you can relate to his ideas, and whether his theory can explain experiences which you have actually had. The most logically-accessible point in this first section is the fear of death. As Smith says, the actual concept of death cannot reasonably be feared in the way that most people fear it because, at the point of death, the world which is now so significant to us is no longer an imposition upon us. The argument that we are imagining what it would be like for us to be in the position of dying, though the concept is itself paradoxical, is emotionally intuitive. One could also consider in this framework the point that, when someone is dead, it is impossible for us to sympathize with him or her any longer because the person in question no longer exhibits agency. Since sympathy is our main way of relating to others, this could also explain why we fear death: it is a loss of the ability to be related to, and a severance of the bond the between self and others. One should also note that, to a certain degree, Smith's argument here presupposes some form of class distinction and division. Though such stratification appears inevitable in many societies today, and surely was present when Smith was writing, one should ask whether this has always been the situation. Before appreciable wealth was available, it is unclear whether ambition would have existed, since people would have had no wealthy upper-class models to aspire to or to imitate. It does not appear that Smith has a satisfactory response to these inquiries. Smith also never distinguishes between sympathy and empathy. Though one could argue that his idea of perfect concord between observer and agent is what we commonly call "empathy," it is more likely the case that Smith simply does not believe in empathy. His method of distinguishing between the self and others requires, in many

respects, that we can never truly feel what someone else is feeling, a fact which is exacerbated when someone else experience acute sorrow. Yet we know some people to be what are called "empaths," capable of deeply experiencing the emotions of others. This underscores an issue with Smith's philosophy which is entirely a product of the historical timeframe in which he is wrote: he presupposes relatively consistent psychology across all people. He points out routinely that his theory is mainly directed towards men, but what is not clearly stated is his assumption that different people, given the same series of relationships and experiences over their lives, will possess the same moral constitutions and act in the same ways. Again, in modern times, we can thank neuroscience and psychology for informing us that people's minds can be organized in radically different ways, an insight which renders a theory entirely based on how people mentally relate to others precarious. Part II - Summary Part II, "Of Merit and Demerit; or, of the Objects of Reward and Punishment", considers what may be properly rewarded or punished. It introduces Smith's conception of justice, and differentiates justice from the other virtues, setting it aside as the basis of law. In particular, this section of Smith's book distinguishes between the two similar but distinct virtues of justice and beneficence. First, Smith discusses reward and punishment in the abstract. Reward, he says, naturally follows from the sentiment of gratitude; punishment naturally follows from resentment. Reward and punishment are like opposite sides of a single coin: gratitude and resentment are both sentiments brought about by someone acting upon us, and their difference depends on whether the act was positive or negative. In addressing the question of what may properly be rewarded or punished, Smith takes the logical next step: whatever is the proper object of gratitude ought to be rewarded, and whatever is the proper object of resentment ought to be punished. To determine what makes resentment or gratitude proper, Smith returns to the notion of sympathy: whatever resentment every impartial observer would find agreeable is proper, and the

same is true of gratitude. This is nothing more than an extension of Smith's very definition of propriety. Smith emphasizes that this theory is contingent upon the propriety of whatever act of harm or beneficence led to gratitude or resentment. If an act of goodness was committed frivolously, we cannot approve of the gratitude of the person who was the object of the act. Similarly, if a supposed injury was committed with perfect propriety, as in a gentlemen's argument, we cannot enter into the sentiment of justifiable resentment. When taken in its totality, then, Smith's notion of the proper objects of punishment and reward is contingent on a combination of what he calls "direct sympathy" with the person who acts (the agent) and "indirect sympathy" with the person who is acted upon. Though reward and punishment seem similar, there is a significant difference between them: namely, reward follows an act of beneficence, and punishment follows a violation of justice. Beneficence must be given freely by definition and cannot in any justifiable way be enforced, whereas justice is the fundamental right of all and is enforceable by force. Justice is necessary for the security of society. Therefore, justice and punishment are the rightful components of law. A punishment must be proportional to the violation of justice that is being addressed, the ultimate violation being murder, which can be punished by death. Smith also adds that the agent who violates justice will undoubtedly experience remorse for his action because, once his unlawful inclination is satisfied, he will have no choice but to reflect on his violation with the same coolness that is exhibited by the society around him. It is in this same way that he who acts in gratitude and deserves reward reflects as an impartial spectator might on his actions, and is conscious of his merit. Lastly, Smith argues that this organization of the principles of justice and punishment is useful to society as a means of preserving order and security. This, he says, is the work of the beneficent and omniscient God who has designed all parts of the universe to function harmoniously, much as the parts of a clock do. To this end, God has designed our behavior and sentiments to support the proper functioning of society. Thus, though we do not always reflect on the good which punishment does for the preservation of

society, we always approve of just punishment -- because, Smith argues, approval of just punishment is a sentiment designed by God to sustain a harmonious society. Analysis: A potent question here is whether Smith's argument regarding the utility of justice actually depends on the concept of God. Though later passages of the treatise involve God more heavily, it is not hard to replace "God" with "natural selection" here and reframe Smith's argument in terms of modern science (i.e. in the passage on 87-88). If we accept the principle that evolution selectively guides human development to enable the propagation of the species, it seems reasonable that typical human psychology would be designed so as to reinforce a harmonious society. An inherent approval of justified punishment could work in such a paradigm. Smith is concerned with justice as a negative virtue -- that is to say, as the virtue of not acting in a way that injures other people. From this analysis, it seems that the idea of being a Good Samaritan would fall into the category of beneficence, which Smith believes cannot be enforced. This means that bystanders who witness injustice would not be guilty of injustice -- a stance which, while perhaps not very controversial in Smith's time period, would require significantly more justification in a post-World-War-II world. The current state of the world is more aligned to the idea that people who stand by and let evil happen are also guilty of injustice, though that injustice is not as reprehensible as the actions of those who actively promote evil. An extension of Smith's conception of justice is the issue of injustices done to oneself -for example, not taking care of oneself, hurting oneself, or otherwise behaving in a manner other than what one deserves. What actions ought to be taken in such situations? This is a more complicated matter than the issue that Smith chose to address, because we must at the same time consider the same person as the agent and the person acted upon. Moreover, any resentment that the person feels toward himself or herself would probably perpetuate self abuse. As a result, we would not be able to justly approve of this resentment in the way that Smith describes. Such an example appears to underscore the limits of Smith's framing of justice.

These cases notwithstanding, Smith's theory of justice in the abstract is very appealing, particularly regarding the balance which he says must be struck between direct and indirect sympathy. A practical difficulty here, of course, is that people are required to imagine themselves in two very different roles -- that of the agent and that of the person acted upon -- in order to judge a single situation. This is a skill which requires significant practice and even expertise. Again, Smith is able to get around this by resorting to the pedagogy with which he approaches moral theory: moral behavior is inherent to us, so we do not always need to be conscious of how it is working as we act; rather, we only need to recognize and agree with the descriptions of how our behavior operates, when such proper descriptions are offered. This is a significant presupposition, but if it is taken for granted, the rest of Smith's approach is solid. Summary: In contrast to the first two parts of the treatise, which primarily deal with how we relate to and judge other people, Part III, "Of the Foundation of Our Judgments Concerning Our Own Sentiments and Conduct, and of the Sense of Duty", addresses how we relate to and judge ourselves. Smith posits that the functioning principles are essentially the same, except directed inward as opposed to directed at other people. One of the most provocative claims made by Smith is that if you were to grow up on an island without any companions, completely apart from society, you would not be able to effectively judge your own actions. This is because morality and judgment are derived from sympathy. In order to judge our own actions, we observe and judge the actions of others, while at the same time observing their judgments of us. In this way, we are able to gain perspective on how we appear to impartial observers. This ability to perceive ourselves as impartial observers might, and to imagine how our potential actions might look to such observers, is called "conscience" (127). Smith refers to conscience as the "man within the breast" in order to underscore the fact that the conscience effectively allows us to take on two perspectives at once: one perspective is our own, dictated by self-interest, and the other is that of an imaginary observer who judges us from the perspective of a stranger (ibid).

Because our conscience is always with us, judging our actions, we have two distinct sets of goals when it comes to morality: we wish to be praised and not blamed by society, and we also wish to be worthy of praise and not worthy of blame. Though society may sometimes unjustly praise or unjustly blame us, our conscience, the final and fairest judge, will always know the truth of whether or not we deserve praise or blame. We will always be obligated to live with that knowledge. There are, of course, ways in which things can go wrong as far as the judgment of the self is concerned. As mentioned above, we may be unjustly praised or blamed -- and blame where blame is not due, Smith believes, is one of the most painful, upsetting, and shameful elements of the human condition. We may also engage in self-deception, may be overcome by our passions and go against morality even though we know better. Later, when our passions are tempered, our conscience will ensure that we feel guilt over such self-deception. Finally, because the conscience is developed based on our interactions with society, conscience runs the risk of being weak, misguided, or illformed if we do not associate regularly with impartial people. If we were to only interact with our family and to never be judged impartially, we would surely be terrible judges of our own behavior. The methods by which the conscience learns how to govern us are the observation and the judgment of individual moral situations and dilemmas; from such activities, the conscience extrapolates general rules concerning what is and is not moral. These general rules, taken as a whole, constitute what is called "duty" -- a word which fits its modern meaning, for Smith sees duty as encompassing the full range of our moral obligations. He argues that duty was clearly imparted by God, because moral obligations have the force of internal laws that govern propriety, and because such laws would be handed down by a creator who has the ultimate good of the universe in mind. Lastly, Smith adds that duty should not always be our sole motive for action: after all, our behavior was crafted by God for the goodness of the universe and of society. Rather, where we would act beneficently for the sake of something we care about, duty serves to amplify this goodness; where we would be inclined to act purely in selfinterest, duty draws us back and keeps us from doing so. Additionally, Smith says, we...