I used to distrust the Communist Party, but still believed in the nation and its people; Later I lost faith in the nation too, but at least still believed in humanity; Eventually I lost faith in humanity as well.
I couldn’t fully believe in God either, because that would contradict my long-held creed: “never follow blindly.”
Then came nihilism. But nihilism is a dead end. Just as I cannot actively affirm being, I equally cannot wholly believe in nothingness.
When thought confronts such conflicts, it desperately needs an answer. Otherwise one can hardly stand at all.
Morality and faith became urgent problems demanding solutions. They are the foundation upon which all meaning and value must be constructed.
This suffering sounds melodramatic, but fortunately I’m not alone in it.
It’s exactly like Ivan in The Brothers Karamazov, and like Ivan, I found comfort in Elder Zosima’s words:
Zosima: This problem has not been resolved in your heart, and therein lies your greatest unhappiness, because this problem demands resolution.
Ivan: But can it be resolved in my heart? Can it be resolved in a positive direction?
Zosima: Even if it cannot be resolved in a positive direction, it will never be resolved in a negative direction either. You yourself know this peculiarity of your soul; this is the very reason your heart suffers so terribly. But you must thank the Creator, for he has given you a lofty heart capable of enduring such torment, capable of thinking upon and seeking things above—we are citizens of heaven. May God grant that your heart’s answer be given you even while you are still on earth. May God bless you on your path.
—Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
Allow me this lengthy quotation—passages I’ve been reading over and over these past days. I offer them also to those who are suffering spiritually.
Returning to the problem of morality, I mentioned above the creed of “never follow blindly.”
Just look at those things you’d never abandon even unto death (whether physical or social)—aren’t those your deepest beliefs?
I used to think it was just a rebellious streak in me; only after studying some philosophy did I learn it’s called free will.
The value of philosophical reflection is that it grounds your wild ideas on firmer rational foundations.
If you carefully analyze the meaning of “never follow blindly,” you’ll find it’s essentially talking about “free will” and “reason.”
And this is the entire foundation of Kantian moral philosophy.
When I first encountered Kant’s theory, I mistakenly thought freedom was a kind of moral principle that could pass Kant’s universalizability test.
Reading Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, I realized: wrong, completely backwards, I had it reversed.
Freedom is not one type of morality; rather, morality is the law concerning freedom.
Without freedom there is no morality.
Ancient Greek philosophy divided knowledge into three categories: logic, physics, and ethics.
Logic involves no material substance—it’s purely formal philosophy.
Physics studies the phenomena of nature and discovers natural laws.
Ethics studies the phenomena of freedom and discovers moral laws.
But facing the vast sea of social phenomena, how can we discover moral law the way Newton discovered the law of universal gravitation?
The materials we have at hand:
First level: Ordinary moral knowledge—knowing what to do in various situations, e.g., don’t speak loudly in public
Second level: Philosophical moral knowledge—moral maxims, e.g., do not do unto others what you would not have them do unto you
Third level: Popular moral philosophy—complete systems synthesized from everyday experience, e.g., utilitarian ethics
What Kant does in Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals:
Starting from these different levels of moral knowledge, he traces backward step by step until arriving at a single supreme principle—stripped of all empirical elements, universally valid—what he calls the metaphysics of morals.
His approach is reflected in the book’s chapter titles:
- Chapter 1: Transition from ordinary rational moral cognition to philosophical rational moral cognition
- Chapter 2: Transition from popular moral philosophy to metaphysics of morals
- Chapter 3: Transition from metaphysics of morals to the critique of pure practical reason
He uses the first two chapters to find this supreme principle, and the third chapter to establish it.
Below is this unique supreme principle (standard formula):
Act only according to that maxim through which you can at the same time will that it become a universal law.
From this supreme principle derive three formulations:
1. Formula of Universal Law of Nature
So act as if the maxim of your action were to become through your will a universal law of nature
2. Formula of Humanity as an End
So act that you use humanity, in your own person as well as in the person of any other, always at the same time as an end, never merely as a means
3. Formula of Autonomy
The will of every rational being as a will giving universal law
Then he gives four examples to illustrate, divided into four quadrants by duties to self/others and perfect/imperfect:
- Perfect duty to oneself: Don’t commit suicide
- Perfect duty to others: Don’t lie
- Imperfect duty to oneself: Develop your talents
- Imperfect duty to others: Help others
I’ve only gotten through about two-thirds of the book so far; I’ll discuss the explanation and justification of these principles in detail in later posts.
For today, just some reflections.
First, I found it deeply satisfying—like someone starving who finally gets food, finally encountering reading material befitting adult thought. Insights abound:
It is impossible to think of anything at all in the world, or indeed even beyond it, that could be considered good without limitation, except a good will.
—Immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals
If all value were conditional and therefore contingent, no supreme practical principle could be found for reason at all.
—Immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals
In the kingdom of ends everything has either a price or a dignity.
—Immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals
That which constitutes the condition under which alone something can be an end in itself has not merely a relative worth, i.e., a price, but an inner worth, i.e., dignity.
—Immanuel Kant, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals
…
Second, I’ve finally found moral convictions that actually persuade me—at least for now I have some relatively solid principles to guide my actions.
Take the four examples Kant gives:
The two duties to oneself closely resemble two creeds I made for myself at age twelve—”don’t die” and “keep striving.”
But I must admit, duties to others have been lacking in me.
In the environment where I grew up, almost no one truly believed, deep down, that they had any real obligations to others.
And this is precisely the tragedy of myself and this society.
Morality is a form of collective wisdom.
I used to disdain morality, because back then morality meant ritual propriety to me—and how could ritual propriety possibly apply to someone like me?
I can’t blame myself too harshly for this, because all the “morality” we witnessed was shameless people peddling things they themselves didn’t believe, or selfish people wielding it as a tool to make you serve them.
Calling such things “morality” is both an insult to our intelligence and a disgrace to morality itself.
True morality comes from the heart.
Looking back:
I made every mistake, and felt the shame rise in me. (Hamilton)
But comparatively, I feel far more shame about the part concerning others.
As for the part concerning myself, though there are many problems, overall I haven’t particularly violated my own creeds, so there’s even a certain pride there.
But concerning others—having no moral creeds whatsoever—I essentially did whatever I wanted.
Yet paradoxically, if treating people merely as means were acceptable, it should mean you harm others and benefit yourself.
But in reality, the more I did such things, the lower I thought of myself.
So there’s reason to believe that even without explicit articulation, deep down you still hold certain beliefs, still pass judgment on good and bad.
This is what we call the objectivity of morality.
Here I’ll borrow Kant’s hand to fill in the two missing pieces of my moral map.
From now on, I’m adding “don’t lie” and “help others when you can” to my moral creeds.
Finally, why did I say “for now” when talking about principles to guide my actions?
Reading Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, I detected a flavor similar to Max Weber’s The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. This supreme good will that Kant says we reach through reason—isn’t it just the God in the hearts of Weber’s Protestants? And Kant’s absolute duty-based moral commands—the Categorical Imperative—closely resemble Protestant ethics with its relentless moral self-examination.
So have I spent all this effort learning Christian morality dressed up as metaphysics of morals?
So in the end, must I still face head-on the questions of “God’s existence” and “the immortality of the soul”?
Kant touches on these issues in Chapter 3. I’ll save them for later.
References:
Deng Xiaomang: Reading Guide to Kant’s Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, People’s Publishing House, 2012
Immanuel Kant, Mary Gregor: Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, Cambridge, 2012
Dostoevsky, Zang Zhonglun: The Brothers Karamazov, Hebei Education Press, 2009
Dostoevsky, Pevear and Volokhonsky: The Brothers Karamazov