CONTEMPT AND MORAL SUBJECTIVITY IN KANTIAN ETHICS
Bryan Lueck
To be obligated, according to Immanuel Kant, is to find oneself positioned as the
addressee of the moral law. As finite rational beings who find ourselves addressed by the
law, but who do not act in accordance with it simply as a matter of course, we experience
the law as constraining or necessitating our wills. For beings like us, then, the moral law
necessarily takes the form of an imperative. This idea of the obligated moral subject as
addressee of an imperatival law lies at the heart of Kantian ethics. But the idea is not
entirely original to Kant; something like it had played a central role in voluntarist ethical
theories at least since Francisco Suarez. In his De Legibus, ac Deo Legislatore, Suarez
criticized Aquinas’ well-known definition of law as “a certain rule and measure in
accordance with which one is induced to act or is restrained from acting.”1 Suarez’s
criticism is based on a distinction, which came to play an important role in Kant’s own
ethical thinking, between counsels and commands. Under Aquinas’ definition, a mere
counsel or piece of advice would count as a law, whereas according to Suarez, it is
essential to law that it impose a genuine obligation on its addressee. Only a command,
promulgated by a superior and backed by sanctions, can do that.2 For the whole
voluntarist tradition as it was carried forward by Samuel Pufendorf, Jean Barbeyrac, and
Richard Cumblerland, among others, the moral subject was understood primarily as the
addressee of an imperatival law.
1
T. AQUINAS, Summa Theologiae I-II, q. 90, a. 1.
F. SUAREZ, De Legibus, Ac Deo Legislatore in Selections from Three Works. Translated by. G.L.
WILLIAMS, A. BROWN, and J. WALDRON, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1944, p. 21; p. 127.
2
Although Kant inherited the conception of the moral subject as addressee of the
law from the voluntarist tradition, he was undeniably original in his development of that
conception. In the Doctrine of Virtue from the Metaphysics of Morals, Kant describes the
relation between the subject and obligation as follows: “…I can recognize that I am under
obligation to others only insofar as I at the same time put myself under obligation, since
the law by virtue of which I regard myself as being under obligation proceeds in every
case from my own practical reason; and in being constrained by my own reason, I am
also the one constraining myself.”3 Kant argues in this passage that the moral subject
cannot be understood adequately merely as the addressee of the law; rather, one’s being
positioned as the addressee of the moral law presupposes one’s being, more
fundamentally, the addressor of that law. This, of course, is the doctrine of the autonomy
of the will. I think it is fair to say that the characterizations of moral experience that are
taken by many as definitive of Kantian ethics are based primarily on his descriptions of
the practical subject as autonomous, as addressor of the law. It is essential to Kant’s
ethics, for example, that the most common human reason has the moral law “always
before its eyes and uses [it] as the norm for its appraisals.” Relying on this law, which it
has as a secure possession, the practical subject “knows very well how to distinguish in
every case that comes up what is good and what is evil, what is in conformity with duty
or contrary to duty….”4 Qua addressor of the law, in other words, the practical subject
determines unilaterally the moral sense of the situations she faces. From this point of
view, moral action can appear as a kind of inflexible rule-following, unconcerned with
3
AA 6:417. [AA = “Akademie-Ausgabe,” i.e. Kants gesammelte Schriften. Ed. königliche preussische
Akademie der Wissenschaften / deutsche Akademie der Wissenschaften, Berlin, de Gruyter, 1902-.] All
translations from Kant’s work are taken from the relevant volumes of The Cambridge Edition of the Works
of Immanuel Kant, under the general editorship of Paul GUYER and Allen WOOD.
4
AA 4:403-404.
2
aspects of situations that are not specifically addressed by legislative practical reason. In
the notorious case of the murderer at the door, for example, the morally salient aspect, as
determined by the law, is truth-telling: to act morally is to tell the truth, irrespective of the
grave consequences of doing so.5 It is this picture of moral life, centered on a conception
of the subject as addressor of the moral law, that is typically described as Kantian, and
not entirely without justification.
What I want to argue in this paper, though, is that the picture of Kantian ethics
that emerges when we emphasize the position of the moral subject as addressor of the law
is one sided and misleading. There are moments in Kant’s moral philosophy, I hope to
show, where the primacy of the addressor position is called into question. Focusing
specifically on Kant’s discussion of contempt in the Doctrine of Virtue, I hope to bring to
light a dynamic relationship at the heart of practical subjectivity—a relationship between
the addressor and addressee positions—that will suggest a more adequate description of
Kantian ethics, and of moral experience generally. I will begin by tracing the history of
the idea, first advanced by Samuel Pufendorf, that there can be no obligation except for a
subject who is capable of converting himself into the addressor of the law. I will then
describe and offer a defense for Kant’s own development of that idea. Finally, by means
of a close reading of Kant’s discussion of contempt, I will attempt to show how morality
demands of us precisely that we maintain ourselves in the position of addressees,
resisting the movement of conversion to the addressor position that is, nonetheless, the
condition of possibility for the experience of obligation.
I. PUFENDORF’S POINT: THE MORAL SUBJECT AS ADDRESSOR AND AS ADDRESSEE
5
AA 8:425-430.
3
The idea that obligation presupposes a moral subject capable of freely taking up
the moral law addressed to her and making use of it as a standard for her own conduct
was first advanced by the voluntarist natural law theorist Samuel Pufendorf in On the
Law of Nature and of Nations and in On the Duty of Man and Citizen According to
Natural Law. This idea is so important to Pufendorf’s ethical project, and to the line of
ethical thinking that follows from it, that Stephen Darwall has characterized it simply as
“Pufendorf’s Point.”6 Pufendorf develops his point in response to a question that becomes
especially salient with the advent of the modern scientific understanding of the world: in
a mechanistically conceived world composed of beings whose actions can be understood
in terms of their natural properties, how can we make sense of the presence of “oughts?”7
If one billiard ball strikes another, for example, we can understand the velocity and
direction of the second ball entirely with reference to the natural properties of the balls
and of the surface on which they roll. Introducing moral concepts, such as that the second
ball was obligated to move in a certain direction at a certain velocity, adds nothing
whatever to our understanding, and in fact detracts from it. Of course we human beings
are also natural beings, subject to the same laws of physics that govern the motions of
billiard balls; if another human being crashes into me, say in the context of a football
game, my change in velocity and direction will undergo alterations that are describable in
much the same way the changes in the billiard balls are. How can it happen, then, that I
sometimes experience myself as obligated, for example to uphold the terms of a contract
that I have agreed to, when I am clearly not necessitated physically to do so? Or to put
6
S. DARWALL, The Second-Person Standpoint: Morality, Respect, and Accountability, Cambridge,
Harvard University Press, 2006, pp. 22-25.
7
C. M. KORSGAARD, The Sources of Normativity, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1996, pp.
21-23.
4
the question in Pufendorf’s own terms, how can we understand the place of moral entities
in a world of physical entities?
Pufendorf’s answer is straightforward: since moral properties are not in the world
naturally, they must have been imposed, or “superadded, at the will of intelligent entities,
to things already existent and physically complete, and to their natural effects….”8 It is
this commitment, of course, that makes Pufendorf’s theory a voluntarist one. According
to the theory, the reason I ought to uphold the terms of my contracts is that an intelligent
being has expressed his will that I do so, positioning me as the addressee of a command
that he can effectively support by means of sanctions. For Pufendorf, the ultimate source
of such commands is God. If I were never the addressee of God’s commands, then I
would have no experience whatever of any specifically moral necessitation; any good
acts that I performed would have been good only in the natural, i.e., non-moral, sense of
the term, having been done merely “out of [my] own good pleasure.”9 My action would
not be qualitatively different from the actions of non-human animals, which are entirely
incapable of moral experience. I can be morally obligated, then, only insofar as I am
capable of being the addressee of an authoritative command.
In order to be obligated, though, it is not sufficient that one be the addressee of a
command, for it is essential to the concept of obligation that it be distinguishable from
coercion. If a mugger points a gun at me and demands that I give him my money, for
example, then I am certainly the addressee of a command that is effectively backed by
sanctions. But just as certainly, it would be inappropriate to say that I am obligated to him
to hand over my money. Obligation has in common with coercion the requirement of a
8
S. PUFENDORF, De Jure Naturae et Gentium Libri Octo. Translated by C.H. OLDFATHER and W.A.
OLDFATHER, London, Wiley & Sons, 1964, p. 6.
9
Ibid., 94.
5
threatened evil to motivate its addressee. The difference between the two is that in the
case of obligation, a person is forced “to acknowledge of himself that the evil, which has
been pointed out to the person who deviates from an announced rule, falls upon him
justly, since he might of himself have avoided it, had he followed that rule.”10 If a
command effectively backed by sanctions is to amount to something more than coercion,
then it must be the case that the addressee of the command can convert himself into its
addressor, freely taking it on as the rule of his own conduct, in effect addressing it to
himself.
On Pufendorf’s account, then, there can be no obligation except for a subject who
is both the addressee and addressor of the law. But this conception gives rise to a difficult
problem: in virtue of what is God’s address something more than mere coercion? That is,
in virtue of what does the subject receive God’s address as a legitimate moral demand
rather than as an act of brute force? It cannot be the case that one becomes obligated
simply by finding oneself positioned as the addressee of a command effectively backed
by force. It must be the case, then, that we are somehow obligated in advance to receive
God’s commands as morally binding obligations rather than as coercions. This is exactly
Pufendorf’s position: he believes that we have an antecedent obligation to accept God’s
commands as obligating us, and that the antecedent obligation is grounded in our
gratitude to him for his having created us.11 But this gives rise to a further question: in
virtue of what does our gratitude create an obligation to receive God’s commands as
morally binding? It seems that any satisfactory answer to this question will require a
10
Ibid., 91.
Ibid., 101. Darwall argues for this interpretation of Pufendorf’s position in S. DARWALL, ‘Pufendorf on
Morality, Sociability, and Moral Powers’, Journal of the History of Philosophy 50/2012, pp. 230-232. Cf.
J.B. SCHNEEWIND, The Invention of Autonomy: A History of Modern Moral Philosophy, Cambridge,
Cambridge University Press, 1998, pp. 135-136.
11
6
retreat from the voluntarist position on obligation, for it cannot be the case that God has
commanded us to take gratitude to him as obligating us to accept his commands as
obligating. Such an account would initiate an infinite regress, as it would raise once again
the question of why we should take God’s meta-command as obligating us in the first
place. If this is correct, then it must be the case that we have at least one obligation that is
not grounded in a command. Why, then, should we not consider the possibility that none
of our obligations are grounded in commands, and that we somehow already possess the
moral rules that obligate us? Perhaps, contrary to the voluntarist thesis, we are not first
and foremost addressees of the moral law who must convert ourselves into its addressors,
but are rather most fundamentally its addressors.
This, broadly speaking, is the position of Pufendorf’s rationalist critics, most
notably G.W. Leibniz and Samuel Clarke. In his Discourse on Metaphysics, Leibniz
argues that if the theological voluntarist thesis were true, then praising God for his justice
would be senseless, for “why praise [God] for what he has done if he would be equally
praiseworthy in doing the exact contrary?”12 If moral goodness is defined with reference
to God’s commands, in other words, then his commands could not even in principle be
morally wrong. If it makes sense to call God good, then it must be the case that God
issues commands not arbitrarily, but rather in accordance with his understanding of what
is good independently of his will. As beings with reason, we too can have knowledge of
the nature of good and bad. As Samuel Clarke put it, “some things are in their own nature
Good and Reasonable and Fit to be done..; and these receive not their obligatory power
from any Law or Authority; but are declared, confirmed, and inforced by penalties, upon
12
G.W. LEIBNIZ, Discourse on Metaphysics and Other Essays. Translated by D. GARBER and R.
ARIEW, Indianapolis, Hackett Publishing Company, 1991, p. 2.
7
such as would not perhaps be governed by right Reason only.”13 We know, for example,
that upholding the terms of our contracts is good in something like the way we know that
2 + 2 = 4. It is our knowledge that is the source of the obligation; sanctions are only
necessary in moral matters because, left to our own devices, we sometimes act contrary to
right reason. Our being positioned as addressees of commands is not the ground of
obligation, then, but merely a supplement.
Voluntarists are unconvinced by this rationalist account, though, arguing that it
cannot make sense of the necessitation or binding of the will that is essential to the
phenomenon of obligation. As Jean Barbeyrac argued, if we discover by means of our
own intellects that a particular act has the objective property of goodness, then nothing
follows except that we must recognize that truth. We cannot get from mere recognition of
a truth to the characteristic “must” of obligation.14 It is this same insight that had
motivated Suarez’s criticism of Aquinas’ naturalism: although our own right reason
might be sufficient to reveal what is truly best for us, and thereby to give us good reason
to act accordingly, it cannot impose on us any necessity to do so. Only commands can
necessitate in the moral sense of the term.
II. THE PRIVILEGING OF THE ADDRESSOR POSITION IN KANT’S MORAL PHILOSOPHY
The problem that emerges from debates between voluntarists and their rationalist
critics can be summarized as follows: obligation seems to be possible only for a practical
subject who is positioned both as the addressee and the addressor of the law. On the one
hand, if the subject did not in some way occupy the addressee position, then the
13
S. CLARKE, A Discourse Concerning the Unchangeable Obligations of Natural Religion and The Truth
and Certainty of the Christian Revelation in The Works of Samuel Clarke, Vol. II, London, John and Paul
Knapton, 1738, p. 611.
14
J. BARBEYRAC, ‘Jugement d’un Anonyme sur L’Original de cet Abregé, avec des Réfléxions du
Traducteur’, in: S. PUFENDORF, Les Devoirs de L’Homme et du Citoyen, Tel Qu’ils lui sont Prescrits par
la Loi Naturelle. Translated by J. BARBEYRAC, London, Jean Nourse, 1741, p. 250.
8
necessitation that is essential to obligation would be impossible. But on the other hand, if
the subject did not occupy the addressor position, then obligation would be
indistinguishable from coercion. The position of the moral subject who was only an
addressee, and not an addressor, would be something like the position of a domestic
animal that responds to commands backed by force.15 But if occupying the position of
addressor seems to be a condition of possibility for obligation, it seems just as much to be
a condition of impossibility, for occupying the addressor position seems to effectively
neutralize the imperatival force of the law.
Immanuel Kant attempts to solve this problem by internalizing the duality
between the addressor and addressee positions. Unlike the voluntarists, he does not treat
the command that positions the moral subject as its addressee as originating from another
subject. Such an external command could never give rise to a genuinely unconditional
obligation, according to Kant, because the practical subject who receives the command
would need to submit it to her own judgment. In doing so, the subject might conclude that
it is in her best interest to act in accordance with the command, for example because she
would prefer to avoid the sanction. But in that case, she acts on prudential reasons, which
can never obligate. A second possibility is that the subject might recognize that she is in
fact obligated to perform the act she was commanded to perform. But in that case, it
would be the subject’s own reason that grounds the obligation, and not the will of the one
who issued the command. The moral subject, then, cannot be understood as the
voluntarist account understands her, as an addressee of a command who then converts
15
C. WOLFF, Vernünftige Gedanken von der Menschen Thun und Lassen, zu Beförderung ihrer
Glückseeligkeit in Gesammelte Werke, Band 4, Hildesheim, Georg Olms Verlage, 1976, Vorrede zu der
andern Auflage.
9
herself into its addressor. The subject must rather be understood as the addressee of the
law of which she is herself the original addressor.
At first blush, this Kantian account seems even less promising than the voluntarist
and rationalist accounts that it is meant to correct. Specifically, it appears to fail
completely to account for the phenomenon of necessitation, for if I bind my will by
addressing the law to myself, then I can just as easily unbind my will by suspending or
revoking the law. I cannot just forget the fact that it was I who imposed the rule. If I
command myself to practice the piano for half an hour every day, for example, I do not
create any genuine obligation to do so; I cannot experience myself as necessitated by my
self-imposed rule because I know I can change my mind if I am not in the mood to
practice on any particular day. In other words, I am necessitated to maintain my practice
schedule for only as long as I decide I want to be necessitated. And that is just to say that
I am not necessitated at all. On the Kantian account, then, it seems as if the practical
subject does nothing but act according to her own good pleasure.16
Kant’s internalization of the addressor/addressee relation is saved from this
obvious objection by the fact that the subject qua addressee is not taken in the same sense
as the subject qua addressor. For finite rational beings, practical subjectivity is divided
between higher and lower faculties of desire.17 The lower faculty of desire is determined
pathologically, i.e., by the feelings of pleasure and pain, and thus a posteriori. The higher
faculty of desire is determined a priori by the pure moral law. If we had only a higher
faculty of desire, then we would do as we ought with the same kind of certainty and
regularity as we observe in natural objects acting in accordance with the laws of nature.
16
17
AA 6:417.
AA 5:23-25.
10
We would have no experience of necessitation because we would do the morally right
thing simply as a matter of course. The phenomenon of necessitation is possible for us
only because we have a lower faculty of desire that pulls in a different direction: we are
inclined to act on the basis of the feelings of pleasure and pain even when doing so
conflicts with the a priori law. Importantly, we do not experience the two faculties of
desire as making the same kind of claim on us, such that we would be able to choose
between them only on the basis of the relative strengths of the desires. We do not, for
example, decide whether or not we should commit an act of fraud by determining
whether or not our desire for financial gain outweighs our desire to act in accordance
with the a priori moral law. The moral law, rather, is given to us in the feeling of respect,
which at once strikes down the natural claims of the inclinations to legislate in the
practical sphere and presents the law as authoritative and absolutely sovereign.18 We do
not, therefore, experience the law merely as counseling us, but rather as commanding us.
And since it is we ourselves as autonomous, transcendentally free beings who give the
law, we as natural beings find ourselves necessitated unconditionally, without any
possibility of escape.
In the Groundwork, then, Kant characterizes the principle of autonomy as “the
sole principle of morals.”19 To act in accordance with the principle of autonomy is just to
act in accordance with our position as addressors of the moral law; we must not seek the
law that determines our wills in anything other than our own legislative reason. This
privileging of the addressor position in moral experience is reflected in many of the most
foundational and well known commitments of Kantian ethics. It is reflected, for example,
18
19
AA 5:74-76.
AA 4:440.
11
in the quintessentially Kantian idea that “the most common understanding” can always
determine what is morally required “quite easily and without hesitation.”20 As addressors
of the moral law, each of us “knows very well how to distinguish in every case that
comes up what is good and what is evil, what is in conformity with duty or contrary to
duty….”21 Of course this is not to deny that we find ourselves addressees of claims that
purport to give us reasons for action. It is to deny, though, that these claims can ever
present us with genuine moral uncertainty, calling into question the moral meaning that
we bring to every situation as autonomous addressors of the law. In the Critique of
Practical Reason, Kant gives the example of a prince who commands his subject to
provide false testimony against an honorable man, hoping thereby to create a pretext to
destroy him.22 The prince threatens to have the subject executed if he does not comply
with the order. Here the subject is the addressee of a command, credibly backed by a
sanction, that purports to give him a good reason to provide the false testimony. And yet
the moral sense of the situation is never seriously in question; the subject understands
perfectly well that he must not give the false testimony, even if that means certain death.
His position as addressee, then, is only a vanishing moment; he converts himself
immediately to the addressor position, from which he can determine unambiguously the
correct course of action.
Kant’s privileging of the addressor position in his ethical philosophy can also be
seen in his account of moral education, developed in the “Doctrine of the Method of Pure
Practical Reason” in the Second Critique. To help develop the moral judgment of
children, we ought to take advantage of the fact that we all tend to enjoy sitting in the
20
AA 5:36.
AA 4:404.
22 AA 5:30.
21
12
judge’s seat, issuing verdicts about the moral worth of actions that are presented to us for
evaluation. Developing in children this habit of taking up the addressor position,
submitting to their judgment historical examples of blameworthy and praiseworthy
conduct, “would make a good foundation for uprightness in the future conduct of life.”23
The conception of moral uprightness that Kant advances here seems to minimize the
importance of the subject’s maintaining herself in the addressee position, open to the
possibility that an historical example or the claim of another might call seriously into
question the moral sense that she gives as the addressor of the law. If the child views the
praiseworthiness or blameworthiness of an act as a genuinely open question, that is only
because she is not yet a fully developed moral subject. Once again, we occupy the
addressee position only provisionally.
The primacy of the addressor position is also manifest, according to Kant, in the
conduct of those who fail for the most part to act in accordance with the law. When
presented with “examples of honesty of purpose, of steadfastness in following good
maxims, of sympathy and general benevolence (even combined with great sacrifices of
advantage and comfort),” even “the most hardened scoundrel” will recognize that he
ought to act likewise.24 Owing to the strength of his inclinations, though, the scoundrel
finds it extraordinarily difficult to act as he ought.25 Nonetheless, he does not experience
himself merely as the addressee of the forceful claims made on him by the inclinations;
rather, he “wishes to be free from such inclinations, which are burdensome to himself.”26
23
AA 5:155.
AA 4:454.
25
I follow Jens TIMMERMANN in interpreting this passage to mean that it is difficult for the scoundrel to
do as he ought and not, as all of the best known English translations have it, that he cannot do it. J.
TIMMERMANN, Kant’s Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals: A Commentary, Cambridge,
Cambridge University Press, 2007, p. 143.
26
AA 4:454.
24
13
Transferring himself to the world of understanding, he recognizes himself as the source
of the moral law he wishes he could live up to. In wishing he were better, the scoundrel
reveals that even he is the addressor of the moral law.
Of course there are also many passages in which Kant puts greater emphasis on
the addressee position in his descriptions of moral experience. In the Groundwork, for
example, Kant describes our “propensity to rationalize against those strict laws of duty
and to cast doubt on their validity,” and thus “to corrupt them at their basis.”27 The one
who rationalizes in this way is clearly the subject qua addressee of the moral law, whose
claims are experienced as too demanding. And in the Doctrine of Virtue, Kant describes
the experience of conscience from the perspective of the addressee. After performing an
act, we are called to appear before a kind of court where we will be acquitted or
condemned.28 But in both of these cases, the moral subject can occupy the addressee
position only because she is more basically the addressor. In the first case, the
characterization of the subject’s acts as rationalizing (vernünfteln) and as attempts to
corrupt the law presuppose that the law is genuinely binding. And the law can only be
genuinely binding for the subject who addresses it to herself. Likewise, the subject can be
rightfully condemned or acquitted in the court of conscience only if she is herself the
addressor of the verdict. This point is brought out explicitly in the Collins lectures, where
Kant describes conscience as an “inner tribunal” which “must have the power to compel
us to judge our actions involuntarily, and to pass sentence on them, and be able to acquit
and condemn us internally.”29 What all of these passages show is that we occupy the
27
AA 4:405.
AA 6:440.
29 AA 27:297.
28
14
addressee and addressor positions simultaneously, but that our occupying the former
position presupposes our occupying the latter.30
III. CONTEMPT AND THE ADDRESSEE POSITION
While Kantian ethics on the whole certainly tends to privilege the addressor
position in its accounts of moral subjectivity, I would like in what follows to develop
some Kantian insights that call that privilege into question. In doing so, I hope to present
a more nuanced, less one-sided picture of Kantian moral subjectivity. Specifically, I want
to focus on Kant’s remarkable insights about contempt. I will propose an interpretation of
the duty not to treat others with contempt, for which Kant argued most explicitly in the
Metaphysics of Morals, as a command to maintain ourselves in the position of addressees
of the moral law, resisting the movement by which we would convert ourselves fully into
its addressors. Then, in order to flesh out a broader conception of moral subjectivity, I
will turn to Kant’s Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason and Anthropology
from a Pragmatic Point of View to show that the temptation to convert ourselves fully
into addressors of the law can be understood as precisely the kind of inclination against
which morality requires us to struggle.
In Section 39 of the Doctrine of Virtue, Kant asserts that “to be contemptuous of
others (contemnere), that is, to deny them the respect owed to human beings in general, is
in every case contrary to duty.”31 To hold someone in contempt, on Kant’s account, is not
merely to think badly of him in some respect. If I judge that a student of mine has
30
For an example of an ethical theory that treats the addressee position as not presupposing the addressor
position, see The Differend by Jean-François LYOTARD. “A phrase is obligatory if its addressee is
obligated. Why he or she is obligated is something he or she can perhaps think to explain. In any case, the
explanation requires further phrases, in which he or she is no longer situated as the addressee but as the
addressor, and whose stakes are no longer those of obeying, but those of convincing a third party of the
reasons one has for obeying.” J-F LYOTARD, The Differend. Trans. Georges Van Den Abbeele,
Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press, 1988, p. 108.
31
AA 6:463.
15
performed very poorly, for example, and if I therefore give him a failing grade for the
course, I do not thereby treat him with contempt. To contemn someone is rather to judge
that person to be worthless.32 I can certainly believe that a person has fallen short of
doing his duty, or even that a person regularly falls short of doing his duty, without
thereby committing myself to the belief that the person is utterly worthless. It is only the
judgment of worthlessness, and more specifically, the actions that express that judgment,
that Kant has in mind in Section 39.
What is most remarkable in the passage quoted above is Kant’s insistence that
expressions of contempt are always contrary to duty, even when others act in ways that
render them unworthy of the respect that we owe them. We must be careful not to
interpret Kant as advancing here the somewhat clichéd argument that everyone has some
good in them, even if it is deeply hidden, and that it is this hidden goodness that
commands our respect.33 Kant is committed rather to the much stronger claim that even if
people give us no evidence whatever of any kind of moral goodness, we violate our duty
to them if we treat them with contempt. In many cases, according to Kant, we cannot
“help looking down on some in comparison with others (despicatui habere).”34 This is
because we are addressors of the moral law; since we necessarily use the law as the
standard for our moral judgments, we cannot help judging the habitual liar to be
contemptible, any more than we can help judging that an observed event has a cause. But
we must not give expression to that judgment; we must not treat the person as if his
whole moral being were reducible to the verdict that we have pronounced on his conduct.
32
AA 6:462.
O. SENSEN, Kant on Human Dignity, Berlin, de Gruyter, 2011, p. 201.
34
AA 6:463.
33
16
No matter how badly the person acts, we must never treat him as if he were a moral nonentity.
To get a sense for what this means more concretely, it will be helpful to examine
the two examples that Kant gives in Section 39 of treating others with contempt. What is
most striking about these examples is how very different they are; indeed it might seem at
first blush that they could not possibly serve as examples of the same phenomenon. The
first example of treating others with contempt is excessively cruel punishment, “such as
quartering a man, having him torn by dogs, [or] cutting off his nose and ears.”35 The
second example involves judging others’ errors too harshly, “calling them absurdities,
poor judgment, and so forth.”36 I want to argue that these cases, as different as they are,
have two morally relevant points in common. First, in both cases, the subject who
expresses contempt for the other identifies himself wholly with right reason, setting
himself up as addressor of the evaluative judgments. And second, he does this in such a
way as to close off the possibility of being situated in turn in the addressee position. He
treats his judgments about others as verdicts without the possibility of appeal. In the case
of cruel punishments, the subject identifies himself completely with the law, here the
juridical law. The other is treated as nothing but an object falling under the law. The
subject forecloses the possibility of being addressed by the other, of experiencing the
other’s dignity as a constraint on his own determination of the moral sense of the
situation. Indeed, the more cruelly the subject punishes, the greater the moral distance he
establishes between himself and the other. In the second example, the subject sets himself
up as the representative of sound understanding. By censuring the other’s errors so
35
36
Ibid.
Ibid.
17
severely, the subject treats the other as so lacking in reason that the latter could not
possibly provide a defense of his position that would be worthy of being taken seriously.
Again, the subject positions himself as having the right to pronounce verdicts without
appeal.
This conception of what it means to treat others with contempt is supported by
numerous passages in the Lectures on Ethics, where contempt is a persistent theme.
Whenever Kant describes an act that renders a person worthy of contempt, he emphasizes
the way in which it degrades the humanity, and thus the inner worth, of the one who
performs it.37 Humanity, in Kant’s specific sense of the term, refers to the rationality of
the will, and thus to the capacity we have to set ends for ourselves.38 It is distinguished
from animality, which refers to the non-rational impulses of self-love, devoted primarily
to self-preservation and to the propagation of the species.39 Thus, the so-called bestial
vices make the one who is guilty of them contemptible “in that partly they make him
equal to the beast, e.g. drunkenness and gluttony, so that he becomes incapable of using
his reason; and partly they bring him even lower than the beast, e.g., the crimina carnis
contra naturam, which are called unmentionable vices, because they so demean humanity
that even to name them already produces horror….”40 In other passages, Kant emphasizes
the way in which contemptible acts reduce people to the level of mere things. If a person
disposes of himself as if he were a being without freedom—for example by selling parts
of his own body or by allowing himself to be used as an object of another’s sexual
enjoyment—he thereby disposes of his humanity. Having become for practical purposes a
37
AA 27:341.
AA 6:392. Cf. AA 6:26.
39
AA 6:26.
40
AA 27:692-693.
38
18
mere thing, he has put himself into a position in which “anyone may treat him as they
please.”41 Whether Kant describes the contemptible person as being like an animal or like
a thing, the ethical point remains the same: we who hold the person in contempt do not
experience ourselves as being situated in the addressee position in our relations with
them. Or to use the well known Rawlsian formulation, we do not typically encounter
animals or things as “self-originating sources of valid claims.”42 In our dealings with
them, we securely occupy the addressor position.
The duty not to contemn, then, can be understood as the duty to resist converting
ourselves completely to the addressor position in our dealings with others. We must hold
back in our judgments of others’ worth, maintaining ourselves in the addressee position,
even after our own legislative practical reason has shown their actions to be contemptible.
But this is extraordinarily difficult for finite rational beings like us. We do not like being
positioned as addressees of the moral law. In a well known passage from the Critique of
Practical Reason, Kant describes how our spirits bow before a common man in whom we
recognize an uprightness of character greater than our own. Even in cases where the
other’s degree of uprightness is roughly equal to our own, Kant suggests that we cannot
help viewing him with respect; we are all morally imperfect, and so the example of
lawfulness in the other’s conduct necessarily strikes down our own pride. All of us would
prefer not to be subjected to this experience: “So little is respect a feeling of pleasure that
we give way to it only reluctantly with regard to a human being. We try to discover
something that could lighten the burden of it for us, some fault in him to compensate us
41
42
AA 27:346. Cf. AA 6:429.
J. RAWLS, ‘Kantian Constructivism in Moral Theory’, Journal of Philosophy 77/1980, p. 543.
19
for the humiliation that comes upon us through such an example.”43 If it is difficult for us
to give our respect to people whom we judge to be better than or equal to us from a moral
point of view, how much more difficult must it be to give our respect to those whom we
judge to be not only worse than us, but much worse? We are better than those people, and
we ought, it seems, to be able to comport ourselves toward them on that basis. But that is
precisely what the prohibition on treating others with contempt means to deny. The
necessitation we experience to yield in our judgments of those we find contemptible,
then, must be extremely burdensome.
I believe we can begin to articulate a compelling, Kantian vision of moral
subjectivity by investigating why this is the case. I would like to begin here with Kant’s
brief description of self-consciousness in his Anthropology from a Pragmatic Point of
View. In Section 2, “On Egoism,” Kant writes that “from the day that the human being
begins to speak by means of ‘I,’ he brings his beloved self to light wherever he is
permitted to, and egoism progresses unchecked.”44 As beings who are self-conscious, we
cannot help judging and acting in ways that refer back to our own egos. The logical
egoist, for example, resists testing the correctness of her own judgments against those of
others; the fact that the judgments are her own provides her with a compelling reason to
believe in their correctness. This tendency is even more pronounced in the realm of
aesthetic judgments, where one can insist on the goodness of one’s taste with less fear of
being convincingly refuted. In both of these cases, the subject judges from an explicitly
egocentric position: the putatively correct judgment is the one that corresponds with the
subject’s own preferences. The form that this takes in moral practice, Kant believes, is
43
44
AA 5:77.
AA 7:128.
20
eudaimonism: the moral egoist “puts the supreme determining ground of his will simply
in utility and his own happiness, not in the thought of duty.”45 The fact that a course of
action contributes to the egoist’s well being provides him with a sufficient reason to
pursue it; there is no non-ego-centered consideration that he experiences as constraining
his will at all. His judgment, from his own point of view, is the only one that matters.
The temptation to hold others in contempt, I want to argue, can be traced back to
one specific form of utility that the moral egoist tends to pursue. In his Religion within
the Boundaries of Mere Reason, Kant describes this form of utility in his account of what
he calls the predisposition to humanity. As rational beings, we have the capacity to
evaluate ourselves in comparison with others. This fact about us gives rise to an
inclination that is qualitatively different from anything in the experience of non-human
animals. In our actions and in our judgments, we give great weight to our own happiness,
one of the most important sources of which is our representation of ourselves as
comparing favorably to others. This means that we stand unavoidably in relations of
rivalry and conflict with others. Not only do we want to be better off than they are, but
we also want to make sure that they acknowledge and accept this. Insofar as others
continue to strive to compare favorably to us, our own well being is at risk. For this
reason, we are constantly tempted by such vices as envy, ingratitude, and joy in the
misfortune of others.46
There are, of course, many different ways that one can be better off than another:
one can be richer, better looking, physically stronger, have a more successful career or
family life, etc. But we can also conceive of ourselves as morally better than others. And
45
46
AA 7:130.
AA 6:27.
21
we are able to preserve this conception of ourselves by the simple expedient of holding
others in contempt. By positioning ourselves as addressors and not addressees of the
moral law, we both present ourselves as having greater moral worth and attempt to
undercut our rivals’ ability to contest that presentation. As long as it is possible that I may
be compelled to respect another human being against my will, my sense of moral
superiority is at risk. As a rational being, that risk is what I am unwilling to accept. As a
morally responsible being, however, that is precisely the risk I must accept.
Before concluding, I would like briefly to address an important objection that
could be made against the argument I have advanced in this paper. It is undeniable that
Section 39 of the Doctrine of Virtue, which I have treated as Kant’s definitive statement
on contempt, is sharply at odds with the position he expresses almost everywhere else in
his ethical writings. As Krista K. Thomason notes, Kant very often suggests that liars,
drunkards, gluttons, and the like are “rightly contemptible.”47 Not only does Kant suggest
that it is sometimes appropriate to treat them with contempt, but in certain passages he
goes further, arguing that the interests of morality are actually promoted by treating them
with contempt. In his Lectures on Pedagogy, for example, he argues that “if a child lies, a
look of contempt is punishment enough and is the most appropriate punishment.”48 If
these passages accurately represent Kant’s view, then he cannot really have meant to
argue that it is “in every case contrary to duty” to be contemptuous of others.
I believe there are two appropriate responses to this objection, one of which
eliminates a tension in Kant’s ethical thought and one of which brings a tension into
relief. First, I think it is clear that when Kant endorses contempt as a valuable tool in
47
48
K. THOMASON, ‘Shame and Contempt in Kant’s Moral Theory’, Kantian Review 18/ 2013, p. 224.
AA 9:482.
22
moral pedagogy, he does not have in mind the definition he put forward in the Doctrine
of Virtue, viz. the judgment that something is worthless. The teacher obviously still
recognizes the lying child as part of the moral community; if he really believed the
student was morally worthless, then the attempt to provide him with a moral education
would be pointless. The context of these passages suggests that Kant means something
closer to “strong disapproval” when he endorses contempt. But in other passages,
especially in the Lectures, Kant clearly does mean to characterize certain persons as
contemptible in the strong sense of the term. Thomason attempts to eliminate the
apparent tension between these passages and Section 39 by arguing that the latter is not
really intended as a complete condemnation of the attitude of contempt, but rather as an
account of how we ought to conceptualize vice. Specifically, she argues that the point of
Section 39 is to show that we ought not to treat vicious persons generally as if they were
“automatically beyond hope of reform.”49 Thus on Thomason’s account, it is permissible
to express contempt for individual persons, as long as we do not express contempt for
humanity or for vicious persons in general. Although this reading eliminates the tension
between Kant’s various remarks about contempt, it raises another, equally serious,
exegetical problem. In Sections 37-39, Kant provides what seems to be the most direct
and straightforward account of contempt in his entire ethical oeuvre: he gives us a clear
definition of the term, connects it with the phenomenon of respect, and then states
unambiguously that being contemptuous of others “is in every case contrary to duty.” It
seems, then, that any argument for the position that Section 39 is not really about
contempt, but rather about the correct conceptualization of vice, should have to meet a
49
K. THOMASON, ‘Shame and Contempt in Kant’s Moral Theory’, p. 225.
23
high burden of proof. I think our default assumption ought to be that Kant meant what he
straightforwardly wrote.
But of course this reading of Kant leaves in place precisely the tension that
Thomason meant to eliminate. What I would like to argue in conclusion is that Kant’s
various remarks on contempt really are in tension, and that that tension reveals something
important about moral subjectivity. On the one hand, our being addressees of the
command never to treat others with contempt presupposes our being the addressors of
that command. This idea is based on Pufendorf’s Point, which Kant develops as the
doctrine of the autonomy of the will. If the subject were merely the addressee of the
command, and not more basically its addressor, then the command could not properly
obligate. But on the other hand—and this is what the phenomenon of contempt brings out
especially clearly—our being addressors of the moral law also presupposes our being
addressees. To be a moral subject at all is to find oneself responsive to an obligating force
whose sense is not legislated in advance by the subject qua addressor. This is the idea
that Kant expresses in the second Critique as the fact of reason, which “forces itself upon
us” and which requires no deduction to establish its legitimacy.50 And so as autonomous
addressors of the moral law, we command ourselves not to identify exclusively with the
addressor position, to remain sensitive to the excess of moral sense that we have not
legislated, and that is the condition of possibility for our being legislating subjects in the
first place. The self-restraint that the command not to contemn imposes on us is
extraordinarily difficult for us to exercise. When we adopt the position of addressors, as
we cannot help doing, we put ourselves at risk of falling into a trap: the moral selves that
we become in identifying ourselves with the law are selves that we value comparatively,
50
AA 5:31; 5:47.
24
and thus competitively. We do not want to compare badly to others from a moral point of
view, and so we experience a strong inclination to hold them in contempt. The struggle
against this inclination, I want to argue, is at least as important a part of the moral life as
struggles against the more familiar egoistic inclinations that Kant focuses on in the
Groundwork and in the second Critique. To identify ourselves too one-sidedly with our
position as addressors of the moral law is to render ourselves insensible to the excess of
moral sense that is the sine qua non of moral experience. Whether it takes the form of
physical cruelty, unduly harsh criticism of others’ judgments, or the attempted
neutralization of others’ moral agency, this insensibility is always contrary to duty.
25