Judging Judges: Who Decides What Pleasures are Superior?
Or, is it better to be a satisfied pig or an unsatisfied Socrates?
A DISCUSSION OF JOHN STUART MILL’S CONCEPTION OF UTILITARIANISM AND WHETHER ANYONE WOULD BE QUALIFIED TO JUDGE WHICH ARE HIGHER ORDER AND WHICH ARE LOWER ORDER PLEASURES BASED ON HIS OWN REASONING.
MAY 2018
A DISCUSSION OF JOHN STUART MILL’S CONCEPTION OF UTILITARIANISM AND WHETHER ANYONE WOULD BE QUALIFIED TO JUDGE WHICH ARE HIGHER ORDER AND WHICH ARE LOWER ORDER PLEASURES BASED ON HIS OWN REASONING.
MAY 2018
by Zoe Cohen
Utilitarianism is a system of judging the morality of actions based on their proclivity to create pleasure or lessen pain. The father of utilitarianism, Jeremy Bentham, called utility “the greatest happiness principle” because it describes maximizing the net pleasure for all sentient beings involved. While Bentham generally thought of all pleasures as equal, his successor, John Stuart Mill, in his paper Utilitarianism, discriminates between what he describes as higher pleasures and lower pleasures. This definition of good, being only that which maximizes net pleasure and minimizes pain, often overlooks other factors. The theory is often met with the criticism that it defies justice by implying that, for example, a situation in which an innocent man being executed so as not to incite public panic would be morally sound. Mill’s theory helps alleviate some of that tension by qualifying certain pleasures over others. One issue upfront is that many people seemingly choose low pleasures over high. If people are frequently and willingly opting for lower or worse pleasures, one cannot claim that what their parameters for what qualifies as higher and better are correct. It is not uncommon for a person who enjoyed the higher order pleasures like engaging in lively debate or writing a philosophy paper to resort to a life of these so called “lower pleasures” which include activities such as doing drugs, having sex, or perhaps binge watching the entirety of a show on Netflix. This paper will examine further Mill’s statement and justifications that no one capable of experiencing higher order pleasures would elect a life of lower pleasures instead, and whether those that do live lower lives are disqualified from judging which pleasures are better.
Mill addresses several criticisms of classical utilitarianism with this next evolution. For example, the Epicureans said that pleasure based judgements of morality make humans no better than swine. Mill’s famous thesis statement is: “It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied” (47). He declares here that value is not simply about net sum of pleasure, but rather how pleasure can be ranked in a hierarchy. Mill concedes that we are capable of experiencing the same pleasures as pigs and all other non-human animals: that of sexual satisfaction or a satiating meal. But humans are also able to engage in much higher activities that give pleasure such as learning or morality, the latter being important for our purposes. As we know, acceptable activity for animals is unacceptable by human standards: Rape, eating our own young, et cetera. Humans must have desires beyond that of carnal satisfaction, because if we were driven just by pleasure our behavior would resemble that of lower animals.
Mill makes some alterations to Bentham’s original conception of utilitarianism but states that the basic premise still remains: Pleasure and the absence of pain are the only thing that can be desirable as ends, and any desirable things are so because of their link to the promotion of pleasure and the prevention of pain (45). If an object is visible, by definition it must be able to be seen, if a sound is audible someone must be able to hear it, and the only way for something to be desirable is for people to actually desire it. He says it is not necessary to justify that happiness is desirable beyond the fact that all people desire it. Next, Mill wants to address an objection to utilitarianism that people desire things other than just happiness, suggesting happiness and pleasure is not the only end. This objection is also relevant to the story of the wrongfully convicted person brought up earlier. The wrongfully convicted person serves as an objection to utilitarianism because, by Bentham’s definition, executing the man would please the community at large and the pleasure in all these people outweighs the pain and suffering endured by the prisoner. It is a fair assumption to make that most people are uncomfortable with that and recognize the years lost by the wrongfully convicted is a miscarriage of justice and a tragedy. Thus, suggesting pleasure cannot be the only end. Mill wants to appeal to this sensibility and find a way to show that happiness not only lives alongside justice and virtue, but is the entire goal of these qualities in the first place. To do this, he says that virtue is a means that we mistake for an end (54). Virtue is not an alternative to happiness, but a means to it. He compares our mistaken ideas of virtue to the love of money: The actual physical form has arbitrary worth. There is no inherent worth in the paper representing it nor is there first-degree pleasure to be gained from looking at a number representing your bank account. We have come to associate money with the pleasures it can give us, mistakenly thinking we desire money in and of itself. In reality, money is just a way to facilitate the happiness we ultimately get from the feeling of security or fun activities. We mistake virtue and morality as an end to achieve for its own sake rather than a vehicle by which to experience happiness. Thus, virtue does lead to happiness just like money leads to happiness. This is where Mill’s higher order pleasures come in. Though the townspeople might feel animalistic satisfaction if the man were wrongly executed, knowing the man is innocent, we would be happier if he were to be let free. The more virtuous outcome wins because the lower order pleasure of animalistic desire is outweighed by the higher pleasure of securing justice. Summarizing what Mill has proven this far: Nothing is desired but happiness, and we choose things like justice and virtue not because they operate outside of pleasure but because they are on a higher tier of pleasure along with intellectual pursuits and creative imagination. This ability to engage in higher order pleasures explains why we would choose to be sad Socrates instead of the satisfied pig, and how not executing the prisoner might produce a lower quantity of pleasure but a much higher quality.
We must then address the question, do people really prefer higher order pleasures to lower? Mill said it himself, as described earlier, the only possible proof that something is desirable is that it is desired. For both of these things to be true, it must be proven that people so clearly prefer higher pleasures that it erases any doubt that lower pleasures may have equal or more value. While most people, if you were to ask them whether they would rather be sad Socrates or a happy pig, would choose Socrates, we cannot depend only on their words but must inspect their actions as well. We are all familiar with the story of an avid reader and curious child in grade school who no longer reads and watches television instead. Mill is unbothered by our example of an inquisitive young mind turned couch potato. Rather, he explains that the person engaging in lower order pleasures serves to prove his point. These people who settle for the most easily achieved pleasure and may perceive this as a choice but are actually no longer capable of experiencing the “better” option by the time they resort to such cheap happiness. As he describes it, “Capacity for the nobler feelings is in most natures a very tender plant, easily killed, not only by hostile influences, but by mere want of sustenance; and in the majority of young persons it speedily dies away if the occupations to which their position in life has devoted them, and the society into which it has thrown them, are not favourable to keeping that higher capacity in exercise”(48). Mill does not place blame on the individuals, but rather the system which robs them of their higher functioning. It is not difficult to be convinced that the child who loved learning when he was young and grew to resent it after it was made mandatory has lost the ability to engage those parts of his mind anymore. Less convincing though is a claim that a rocket scientist, professor, or successful CEO cannot engage in lower pleasures when higher pleasures are available unless they have lost the ability to achieve the higher. Though, Mill would hold that they share the fate of the boy.
This paints a vivid picture of how someone loses access to higher pleasures, though it is insufficient for proving that Mill’s defined higher pleasures are actually better. Mill relies on the assumption that people taking one path over another proves that the path is better, but only applies that logic to the people living the life he decided is superior. He determines that the people living opposing lives are simply lower to begin with and thus their opinions cannot be counted. In his words, people living the higher life are the “only competent judges.” The fool who prefers lower pleasures should not be listened to as they only know one side. They cannot see the full picture, and thus cannot possibly judge. The person able to experience higher goods knows both ends and will agree that the higher good is superior. At face value this appears as an ad hominem fallacy: Mill’s argument relies on the assertion that only the people who comply with his method qualify as trustworthy judges and all others are mistaken due to their condition. For this same reason, Mill’s reasoning comes dangerously close to being circular. His system can only be judged by those who qualify in that same system.
Even if we were to accept Mill’s premise that fools cannot judge higher pleasures for lack of experience, he contradicts himself by saying higher functioning humans are familiar with lower pleasures. If they were familiar, would that not imply that they have had to experience it thoroughly enough to make a judgement? If this were the case, it would mean these people had chosen to engage with lower pleasures instead of high only to realize that higher was better. Informally so, it is not an outrageous claim to make that there are people who both engage in intellectual activities as well as pleasures of the flesh. We must, however, ignore that for the purpose of discussing Mill’s theory. Mill suggests that those living the life of higher pleasures have not succumb to the lower and thus cannot be so equally versed in the two lifestyles to be the unbiased judges he represents them as. He describes people who try to straddle the line between the types of pleasure as eventually being “broken down in an ineffectual attempt to combine both” (48) Thus, the people subscribing to a lifestyle of higher pleasures are not able to holistically view both lifestyles with an unbiased lens. Let us take for granted that a qualified judge would be familiar with both options. Mill leaves little room for the higher functioning people to ever have experienced the lower pleasures in the first place. If we were to use dual experience as the qualification, we must find another judge. Even if we granted that these higher functioning people have had experience with lower pleasures enough to feel familiar, and to determine they would not relinquish their intellect to be turned into a happy pig, they know not what it is like to be a wholly satisfied fool or pig. Thus, by Mill’s own qualification, they could not be proper judges. The only individual we have discussed who would qualify as a judge is the formerly inquisitive boy: He is the only one who has been fully immersed in each lifestyle without much overlap.
Mill may be making errors in his assessment, but his theory can still stand. It is not unreasonable to suggest that people who have succumb to lives of lower pleasure can no longer choose to experience the higher. Some people stop reading and never start again, though they express longing for the times they read voraciously. However, the inability to choose the pleasures they engage in does not make them unaware of what higher pleasures used to feel like. The way that Mill can effectively prove that higher pleasures are better is not by disqualifying those living in the lower from voting, but, in fact by asking them if they would return back to the higher pleasures if they could. Would they exchange the ability to enjoy lower pleasures for being able to enjoy the higher pleasures of intellectual pursuits and imagination as they used to? It is not unreasonable to suggest that they would, in fact, restore their mental capacities.
Mill’s conception of higher pleasures explains well why we would choose virtue over animalistic satisfaction in the case of the wrongfully convicted man, while still allowing the premise of utilitarianism to hold up. It seems as though Mill makes an error in considering who his opponents might be, and decides to take credibility away from intelligent people that have taken lower paths than they were originally capable of. Many of those people, in fact, would vote in his favor. Socrates, who has never been foolish is not qualified, by Mill’s own definition, to say that being Socrates is better. This does not mean, however, that utilitarianism is bound to defy justice and virtue: Mill’s distinction between higher and lower pleasures can still hold up despite the objections presented in this paper.
Utilitarianism is a system of judging the morality of actions based on their proclivity to create pleasure or lessen pain. The father of utilitarianism, Jeremy Bentham, called utility “the greatest happiness principle” because it describes maximizing the net pleasure for all sentient beings involved. While Bentham generally thought of all pleasures as equal, his successor, John Stuart Mill, in his paper Utilitarianism, discriminates between what he describes as higher pleasures and lower pleasures. This definition of good, being only that which maximizes net pleasure and minimizes pain, often overlooks other factors. The theory is often met with the criticism that it defies justice by implying that, for example, a situation in which an innocent man being executed so as not to incite public panic would be morally sound. Mill’s theory helps alleviate some of that tension by qualifying certain pleasures over others. One issue upfront is that many people seemingly choose low pleasures over high. If people are frequently and willingly opting for lower or worse pleasures, one cannot claim that what their parameters for what qualifies as higher and better are correct. It is not uncommon for a person who enjoyed the higher order pleasures like engaging in lively debate or writing a philosophy paper to resort to a life of these so called “lower pleasures” which include activities such as doing drugs, having sex, or perhaps binge watching the entirety of a show on Netflix. This paper will examine further Mill’s statement and justifications that no one capable of experiencing higher order pleasures would elect a life of lower pleasures instead, and whether those that do live lower lives are disqualified from judging which pleasures are better.
Mill addresses several criticisms of classical utilitarianism with this next evolution. For example, the Epicureans said that pleasure based judgements of morality make humans no better than swine. Mill’s famous thesis statement is: “It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied” (47). He declares here that value is not simply about net sum of pleasure, but rather how pleasure can be ranked in a hierarchy. Mill concedes that we are capable of experiencing the same pleasures as pigs and all other non-human animals: that of sexual satisfaction or a satiating meal. But humans are also able to engage in much higher activities that give pleasure such as learning or morality, the latter being important for our purposes. As we know, acceptable activity for animals is unacceptable by human standards: Rape, eating our own young, et cetera. Humans must have desires beyond that of carnal satisfaction, because if we were driven just by pleasure our behavior would resemble that of lower animals.
Mill makes some alterations to Bentham’s original conception of utilitarianism but states that the basic premise still remains: Pleasure and the absence of pain are the only thing that can be desirable as ends, and any desirable things are so because of their link to the promotion of pleasure and the prevention of pain (45). If an object is visible, by definition it must be able to be seen, if a sound is audible someone must be able to hear it, and the only way for something to be desirable is for people to actually desire it. He says it is not necessary to justify that happiness is desirable beyond the fact that all people desire it. Next, Mill wants to address an objection to utilitarianism that people desire things other than just happiness, suggesting happiness and pleasure is not the only end. This objection is also relevant to the story of the wrongfully convicted person brought up earlier. The wrongfully convicted person serves as an objection to utilitarianism because, by Bentham’s definition, executing the man would please the community at large and the pleasure in all these people outweighs the pain and suffering endured by the prisoner. It is a fair assumption to make that most people are uncomfortable with that and recognize the years lost by the wrongfully convicted is a miscarriage of justice and a tragedy. Thus, suggesting pleasure cannot be the only end. Mill wants to appeal to this sensibility and find a way to show that happiness not only lives alongside justice and virtue, but is the entire goal of these qualities in the first place. To do this, he says that virtue is a means that we mistake for an end (54). Virtue is not an alternative to happiness, but a means to it. He compares our mistaken ideas of virtue to the love of money: The actual physical form has arbitrary worth. There is no inherent worth in the paper representing it nor is there first-degree pleasure to be gained from looking at a number representing your bank account. We have come to associate money with the pleasures it can give us, mistakenly thinking we desire money in and of itself. In reality, money is just a way to facilitate the happiness we ultimately get from the feeling of security or fun activities. We mistake virtue and morality as an end to achieve for its own sake rather than a vehicle by which to experience happiness. Thus, virtue does lead to happiness just like money leads to happiness. This is where Mill’s higher order pleasures come in. Though the townspeople might feel animalistic satisfaction if the man were wrongly executed, knowing the man is innocent, we would be happier if he were to be let free. The more virtuous outcome wins because the lower order pleasure of animalistic desire is outweighed by the higher pleasure of securing justice. Summarizing what Mill has proven this far: Nothing is desired but happiness, and we choose things like justice and virtue not because they operate outside of pleasure but because they are on a higher tier of pleasure along with intellectual pursuits and creative imagination. This ability to engage in higher order pleasures explains why we would choose to be sad Socrates instead of the satisfied pig, and how not executing the prisoner might produce a lower quantity of pleasure but a much higher quality.
We must then address the question, do people really prefer higher order pleasures to lower? Mill said it himself, as described earlier, the only possible proof that something is desirable is that it is desired. For both of these things to be true, it must be proven that people so clearly prefer higher pleasures that it erases any doubt that lower pleasures may have equal or more value. While most people, if you were to ask them whether they would rather be sad Socrates or a happy pig, would choose Socrates, we cannot depend only on their words but must inspect their actions as well. We are all familiar with the story of an avid reader and curious child in grade school who no longer reads and watches television instead. Mill is unbothered by our example of an inquisitive young mind turned couch potato. Rather, he explains that the person engaging in lower order pleasures serves to prove his point. These people who settle for the most easily achieved pleasure and may perceive this as a choice but are actually no longer capable of experiencing the “better” option by the time they resort to such cheap happiness. As he describes it, “Capacity for the nobler feelings is in most natures a very tender plant, easily killed, not only by hostile influences, but by mere want of sustenance; and in the majority of young persons it speedily dies away if the occupations to which their position in life has devoted them, and the society into which it has thrown them, are not favourable to keeping that higher capacity in exercise”(48). Mill does not place blame on the individuals, but rather the system which robs them of their higher functioning. It is not difficult to be convinced that the child who loved learning when he was young and grew to resent it after it was made mandatory has lost the ability to engage those parts of his mind anymore. Less convincing though is a claim that a rocket scientist, professor, or successful CEO cannot engage in lower pleasures when higher pleasures are available unless they have lost the ability to achieve the higher. Though, Mill would hold that they share the fate of the boy.
This paints a vivid picture of how someone loses access to higher pleasures, though it is insufficient for proving that Mill’s defined higher pleasures are actually better. Mill relies on the assumption that people taking one path over another proves that the path is better, but only applies that logic to the people living the life he decided is superior. He determines that the people living opposing lives are simply lower to begin with and thus their opinions cannot be counted. In his words, people living the higher life are the “only competent judges.” The fool who prefers lower pleasures should not be listened to as they only know one side. They cannot see the full picture, and thus cannot possibly judge. The person able to experience higher goods knows both ends and will agree that the higher good is superior. At face value this appears as an ad hominem fallacy: Mill’s argument relies on the assertion that only the people who comply with his method qualify as trustworthy judges and all others are mistaken due to their condition. For this same reason, Mill’s reasoning comes dangerously close to being circular. His system can only be judged by those who qualify in that same system.
Even if we were to accept Mill’s premise that fools cannot judge higher pleasures for lack of experience, he contradicts himself by saying higher functioning humans are familiar with lower pleasures. If they were familiar, would that not imply that they have had to experience it thoroughly enough to make a judgement? If this were the case, it would mean these people had chosen to engage with lower pleasures instead of high only to realize that higher was better. Informally so, it is not an outrageous claim to make that there are people who both engage in intellectual activities as well as pleasures of the flesh. We must, however, ignore that for the purpose of discussing Mill’s theory. Mill suggests that those living the life of higher pleasures have not succumb to the lower and thus cannot be so equally versed in the two lifestyles to be the unbiased judges he represents them as. He describes people who try to straddle the line between the types of pleasure as eventually being “broken down in an ineffectual attempt to combine both” (48) Thus, the people subscribing to a lifestyle of higher pleasures are not able to holistically view both lifestyles with an unbiased lens. Let us take for granted that a qualified judge would be familiar with both options. Mill leaves little room for the higher functioning people to ever have experienced the lower pleasures in the first place. If we were to use dual experience as the qualification, we must find another judge. Even if we granted that these higher functioning people have had experience with lower pleasures enough to feel familiar, and to determine they would not relinquish their intellect to be turned into a happy pig, they know not what it is like to be a wholly satisfied fool or pig. Thus, by Mill’s own qualification, they could not be proper judges. The only individual we have discussed who would qualify as a judge is the formerly inquisitive boy: He is the only one who has been fully immersed in each lifestyle without much overlap.
Mill may be making errors in his assessment, but his theory can still stand. It is not unreasonable to suggest that people who have succumb to lives of lower pleasure can no longer choose to experience the higher. Some people stop reading and never start again, though they express longing for the times they read voraciously. However, the inability to choose the pleasures they engage in does not make them unaware of what higher pleasures used to feel like. The way that Mill can effectively prove that higher pleasures are better is not by disqualifying those living in the lower from voting, but, in fact by asking them if they would return back to the higher pleasures if they could. Would they exchange the ability to enjoy lower pleasures for being able to enjoy the higher pleasures of intellectual pursuits and imagination as they used to? It is not unreasonable to suggest that they would, in fact, restore their mental capacities.
Mill’s conception of higher pleasures explains well why we would choose virtue over animalistic satisfaction in the case of the wrongfully convicted man, while still allowing the premise of utilitarianism to hold up. It seems as though Mill makes an error in considering who his opponents might be, and decides to take credibility away from intelligent people that have taken lower paths than they were originally capable of. Many of those people, in fact, would vote in his favor. Socrates, who has never been foolish is not qualified, by Mill’s own definition, to say that being Socrates is better. This does not mean, however, that utilitarianism is bound to defy justice and virtue: Mill’s distinction between higher and lower pleasures can still hold up despite the objections presented in this paper.