Greg Detre
7 May, 2000
Both Bentham and Mill attempt to formulate a universal moral maxim based on a prudential theory, i.e. they assert that the pursuit of pleasure is the drive in everyone�s life, and then assert that consequently, the ultimate goal of an aggregate of people is the maximisation of the totality of pleasure (or �utility�) of that aggregate. Thus, by indiscriminately summing the overall pleasure and pain caused to the aggregate (including onself) by an action, one can assess the morality of that action. In this way, both Mill�s and Bentham�s hedonisms use utility as the gauge of value and goodness � whatever most increases (or least decreases) the aggregate utility is the best, and right, action. This allows for a sliding scale of goodness, as well as direct comparisons between actions. Despite the appealing simplicity of the theory, there are complications, not least in the practicalities of such a theory, e.g. we cannot know the ultimate future ramifications of an action; we might be reluctant to throw our father out of a hot air balloon to save a scientist with a cure for cancer, despite the utilitarian imperative; and there is no easy way to measure the pleasure resultant from an action. It is this last issue of the calculation of utility that most separates Bentham�s quantitative with Mill�s qualitative hedonism.
Here, we are concerned only with the prudential theory, hedonism, upon which the over-arching moral theory rests. If we cannot determine the utility of an action for an individual, we will not be able to apply hedonism to an aggregate of people, and utilitarianism is not practiceable.
Hedonism conjures up thoughts of reprobate parties on the beach, replete with drink, drugs and hopefully sex. Yet, as advocates of utilitarianism stress, pleasure need not simply refer to the �baser�, sensual pleasures; we gain pleasure from love, poetry, music and discussion, and experience sadness at boredom, loneliness and another person�s plight. Pleasure in the utilitarian sense is meant as far more than a fleeting euphoria. There are long-lasting, acquired pleasures too, perhaps gained only after effort or sacrifice. But can our enjoyment of these varied pursuits be directly compared under the umbrella term �pleasure�? Can the pleasure derived from reading an evocative poem be ranked against vomiting oneself unconscious after a night stealing traffic cones with the lads?
Bentham, with his penchant for the orderly, argues that the different variables like intensity, duration, certainty/uncertainty and propinquity/remoteness allow us to arrive at an overall value for the pleasure of an action. I am going to summarily dismiss the notion that such variables can be assigned precise numerical values, totalled and that one pleasure can correspond to an exact fraction or multiple of another. Though it might hypothetically be possible to attempt this by measuring neurotransmitter release in the brain, for instance, such a hedonometer would not be in the spirit of Bentham�s argument, and reliance upon such a device would mean that we would not be able to make moral judgements without its help. We can take a hedonic calculus slightly more seriously if we regard it simply as a system for comparing and ranking different pleasures. Even in this form, it still makes the strong implicit assumption that all enjoyable activities give rise to more or less concentrated or long-lasting of the same feelings of pleasure.
It could be argued that Bentham has not considered the vividness with which a pleasure is remembered � after all, a tremendous orgasm that an amnesic has no memory of may as well never have happened. Bentham�s elegant solution is to consider this under fecundity as a pleasure which gives rise to other pleasures over time, such as a poem rembered and savoured. There is a small question remaining about the certainty and propinquity of a pleasure: don�t we derive pleasure in anticipating a distant and unlikely dream, despite its remoteness and uncertainty?
In contrast, Mill would like to argue that some pleasures are more intrinsically worthy than others. To explain, let us draw an analogy with another type of qualitative difference, unrelated to hedonism. We might say that the human mind is a higher form of �intelligence� than a supercomputer. The supercomputer might be able to perform a mathematical operation in a few seconds that would take us many hours to do with pencil and paper, but it will never write poetry. No matter how many supercomputers we put together, working at any speed and for any length of time, they will not exhibit any spontaneity, originality, self-awareness or learn[1]. We can work at their level, but they can never rise to ours � duration and intensity can not give rise to a qualitative change.
In order to accept that a qualitative ranking is possible, there has to be some means of objective assessment. One way to rank pleasures would be to appeal to some other, even higher standard than the maximisation of pleasure, upon which to base our judgement. For instance, Aristotle effectively categorises the moral and the intellectual arēte as being separate, with the contemplative life being the higher, but more exclusive. Mill is explicit in saying that the value of a pleasure lies solely in the pleasure it gives, refusing to admit of any standard to which hedonism is subordinate. However, Mill comes close to this, with his claim, �Better to be a fool satisfied than Socrates dissatisfied�. I think he might have hoped that few philosophers of note would dare to disagree, and that those who did could be ridiculed into submission. The irony lies in what Socrates himself might have replied to this screen: �Why should I prefer the endless discontent which my inquisitive intelligence brings me � perhaps I secretly long for the unadulterated joy of being a pig in mud. What would I lack that I would wish for?� It seems to me that there is an unavoidable predisposition in the sort of judge Mill has in mind to rank the intellectual pleasures higher, and I think this is Mill�s only recourse to such a response from Socrates.
Mill�s answer to comparing two pleasures is to ask those who have experienced both pleasures, and state that if there is a consensus in preferring one of the two, then that one must be the higher. Fairness dictates that any judge would need to be able to make a comparison based on his own experience. After all, human preference is the only way that pleasures can be ranked, since pleasure is in the eye of the beholder. However, individuals (who may or may not have experienced both pleasures) may disagree with this consensus. Mill does not cater for such obstacles to his objective standard of utility.
But can we judge the value of one type of pleasure relative to another objectively? Let us take an example. We might be able to find a philosopher who knows the joys of a musty library late at night, as well as having experimented with clubbing in his younger days. He would fit our description of a judge who has had experience of both types of pleasure, and so we might turn to him and ask him which he prefers. If every philosophy professor prefers elbow patches to Ecstasy tablets, we might then decide that the intellect provides a �higher� form of pleasure. By this, we mean that the higher pleasure is not comparable to the lower, and no amount, intensity or duration of the lower pleasure will be equatable with the higher. But perhaps our philosophy professor was awkward and repressed, because his handsome and charismatic older brother made fun of him as a child. This older brother is a bright, extravert, outdoors sort who never liked philosophy. Mill might argue that the older brother has never learnt to fully experience the refined and buried bliss of metaphysics and so cannot be a fair judge of its merits. Consequently, his obvious pleasure in clubbing would be denigrated because our younger philosophy professor says so. Yet we could say the very same about the younger professor�s abortive evenings clubbing. This example is intended to show how varied and ingrained our own views on what is pleasurable are. To rank either philosophy or clubbing as an objectively higher pleasure seems impossible (without recourse to a further absolute standard, which Mill is averse to doing), and would mean subordinating one�s life to the other. It seems ridiculous and iniquitous to arbitrate that no length of time spent in Ibiza will ever be worth a single hour bent over a copy of the Critique of Pure Reason.
If this example shows us anything, it illustrates how varied and incompatible our pleasures can be. Mill�s own acknowledgement of the long-lasting effects of early indoctrination backfires here. There are men with the intelligence of Socrates who choose not to follow his philosophising lead � we enjoy what our abilities, genes, neuroses and upbringing lead us to enjoy. To try and pigeon-hole people into preferring the higher pleasures cannot be justified, without mediocritising our individual differences.
When Aristotle stated that the telos, or end goal, of all our lives is happiness, he certainly had more than beach parties in mind. Perhaps a stronger argument in favour of Mill�s qualitative hedonism can be formed, to reassemble a hierarchy of happiness. Let us consider this in terms of the pleasure-juice drip: this remarkable 25th century device comes in the form of a cufflink, which the wearer can press gently to release pleasure-juice (the distilled chemical which alters our brain state, giving rise to feelings of pleasure) directly into our blood stream. Under Bentham�s hedonic calculus, such an action would be intense, last as long as we like, be certain, propinquitous and pure. Yet, just as a happy life in a virtual �experience machine� feels empty, we find ourselves inexplicably shying away from sinking into the throes of a lifelong orgasm. Here, we might turn to Mill�s qualitative hedonism, in the hope that it can show that such a pleasure, though intense, would rank at the very bottom of his scale. But remember, Mill�s scheme makes no appeal to an ultimate standard requiring self-sacrifice, intellect or effort to attain the higher pleasures � it requires only that judges who have experienced both types of pleasure consistently prefer one. And what judge, other than the exceptionally high-minded individual, would prefer an arduous life of adversity or arduousness when pleasure is immediate and cost-free? Mill�s qualitative hedonism would, quite to the contrary, rank such unearned pleasure as the very highest form of pleasure.
Both Mill�s and Bentham�s versions of hedonism seem flawed, and it is difficult to happily reconcile them. Mill�s qualitative hedonism might appeal at first, especially to those who would agree with what qualifies as a higher pleasure. However, it does appear to lead to a situation where other people, judging which pleasure is higher based on their experience of both, would be in a position to ordain what gives the highest pleasure. , and ultimately whose pleasure is worth most. When such a hedonism provides the basis for a moral theory, it will ultimately arbitrate whose enjoyment is worth most, and weight the morality of actions in their favour. Even more damaging to Mill�s case, once one takes the first step of admitting that pleasure is differentiated, utility becomes not a single but a fragmented goal, and we lose sight of our aim of a universal moral principle. For how can everyone�s utility be summed, as the Greatest Happiness Principle demands, if one type of pleasure is qualitatively different to another?
One the other hand, Bentham�s attempt to precisely quantify pleasure doesn�t seem strictly practiceable � if it was, we�d be able to turn to computers for moral judgements. I think it makes more sense if we take a weaker reading than he intended, and simply acknowledge that various factors influence how much we enjoy something, e.g. intensity, duration, fecundity etc.
One way to bring Mill and Bentham together would be to add a new variable, approximating to the �rank� of a pleasure. The weighting for this could be derived from an empirical study along the lines Mill envisaged, or simply by each individual ascribing pleasures their own value. Such a weighting would probably have to be logarithmic, to assuage the likes of Mill who who would rate the higher pleasures as being incomparably far beyond the baser pleasures. However, there is a way to do less violence to Bentham�s original formulation. I think that Bentham intended �intensity� to be gauged relative to the other experiences a person has enjoyed, and that this would naturally tend to weight pleasures that they have enjoyed more.
This flexibility is the advantage of Bentham�s scheme � the extent to which a pleasure is rated according to his hedonic calculus should correspond exactly with the extent to which that person enjoyed it. This sounds trivial, but it is as it should be. There seems to be an unavoidable danger that Mill�s hedonism would dictate engaging in activities which give higher pleasure, but which might actually be less enjoyable to the majority of individuals, e.g. those who simply do not enjoy philosophising. His distinction of higher pleasures is such that the most moral life for a �fool� might involve a continual and unsatisfying effort to learn to enjoy these higher pleasures, perhaps at the expense of contentment at one�s lot.
[1] This is not meant to raise
questions about the uniqueness of the human brain � we are deliberately
assuming here that the supercomputer is performing a specific, computable
algorithm mechanically and repeatedly.