What is Consequentialism?

What is Utilitarianism in Ethics?

What is Kantian Ethics?

What is AI Ethics?

What is Plato's Theory of Forms?

What is Plato's Allegory of the Cave?

What is Stoicism?

What is Empiricism?

What is Ontology?

What is Phenomenology?

What is Absurdism?

What is Rationalism?

What is Moral Anti-Realism?

Aristotle's Virtue Ethics | Definition, Examples & Analysis

Aristotle (384–322 BCE) is one of the most influential philosophers in history, and he turned his gaze to a dizzying range of subjects: including metaphysics, politics, the arts, biology, and more. 

When it comes to human behavior and morality, Aristotle is known for his “virtue ethics” — an ethical theory which primarily emphasizes the character of the moral agent themselves, rather than the morality of their actions (as with consequentialism) or the primacy of moral duty (as with deontology). All three major ethical theories still have place for “virtues, consequences, and rules”, as Rosalind Hursthouse and Glen Pettigrove argue, but “What distinguishes virtue ethics from consequentialism or deontology is the centrality of virtue within the theory” (“Virtue Ethics”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2022).

Aristotle is not the only virtue ethicist, but he remains the most influential — with a resurgent virtue ethicist movement still indebted to his work in the present day. But what, exactly, is Aristotle’s approach to virtue ethics? 

Aristotle’s formulation of virtue ethics arrives in the form of the Nicomachean Ethics (c. 340 BCE) — a book based on notes from his lectures and edited by his son. On the subject of the book’s somewhat curious name, Robert C. Bartlett and Susan D. Collins reveal:

Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics

Its title (which Aristotle himself never uses) is derived from the name that both Aristotle’s son and father bore, Nicomachus; the title may either refer to the former, perhaps as editor of the text, or pay homage to the latter: no one is certain. (2011)

Whatever the history of its conception, the Nicomachean Ethics emerges as “a carefully organized and cohesive work” which is dedicated to Aristotle’s “philosophy of human affairs” (Bartlett and Collins, 2011). Aristotle’s aims in the Nicomachean Ethics are ambitious, as Alain de Botton’s The School of Life summarizes:

Great Thinkers

Aristotle set himself the task of identifying the factors that lead people to have a good life, or not. He suggested that good and successful people all possess distinct virtues, and proposed that we should get better at identifying what these are, so that we can nurture them in ourselves and honour them in others. (2020)

The achievement of a “good life” is Aristotle’s central goal here, and so he advances the cultivation of “virtues” as the means by which this can be achieved. Aristotle refers to this “good life” as eudaimonia — a crucial concept which underpins his ethical philosophy. Before we discuss the virtues themselves, then, let’s take a closer look at Aristotle’s concept of eudaimonia.

Eudaimonia is a Greek word with a nexus of possible translations; including happiness, human flourishing, and well-being. Or, as Nigel Warburton dryly puts it, eudaimonia is “pronounced ‘you-die-moania’, but meaning the opposite” (A Little History of Philosophy, 2011). Aristotle sees eudaimonia as “something complete and self-sufficient” which we “always choose [...] on account of itself and never on account of something else” (Nicomachean Ethics (c. 340 BCE [2011]). Eudaimonia is the be-all and end-all; the underlying motivation behind our actions, and the end goal of ethical philosophy. 

By establishing eudaimonia as the foundation of his ethics, Aristotle takes his place in what Liezl van Zyl describes as the “eudaimonistic tradition”:

Virtue Ethics

Eudaimonists take the starting point for ethical reflection to be: How can I live well? or: What is the best life for human beings? And their answer, in short, is: A good or happy life is a virtuous life. (2018)

In some ways, then, Aristotle’s virtue ethics can be seen as a kind of self-help guide which helps us to live a virtuous life — and, in doing so, achieve eudaimonia. 

The question that naturally follows is: how, exactly, do we live a virtuous life? What is virtue, in Aristotle’s view? In Philosophy: The Basics (2013), Warburton provides a succinct summary of this thorny concept: 

Philosophy: The Basics

Aristotle claimed that cultivating the virtues is the way to flourish as a human being. But what is a virtue? It is a pattern of behaviour and feeling: a tendency to act, desire, and feel in particular ways in appropriate situations. 

Many of the virtues listed by Aristotle will be familiar to us, such as courage, temperance, and wisdom. But virtues are not just ideal traits — for Aristotle, they are linked to excellence of character in general. As van Lyzl argues, 

What allows us to identify a trait as a virtue [...] is that it is necessary for human happiness. As such, a virtue is not simply a useful trait or one that we find attractive or agreeable in some way. Rather, virtue involves functioning well as an emotional, intelligent, and social being; more specifically, it involves having a correct understanding of what is important or worthwhile in life, acting for the right reasons and with the right attitude, and having the right emotional responses. A fully virtuous person is an excellent human being, someone who lives a good or happy life. (2018)

Virtue is an all-round excellence of character, and not just a habit to be automatically performed or an ideal to be blindly followed. As van Lyzl explains above, a virtuous character is necessary for a virtuous life — and, by extension, a happy life. 

For Aristotle, happiness and virtue are inextricably linked — in his own words, he describes “happiness” as “a certain activity of soul in accord with complete virtue” (c. 340 BCE [2011]). Bartlett and Collins are helpful here when it comes to detangling Aristotle’s logic:

For Aristotle, then, the question of how to be happy is the question of how to live well as a human being, and living well is inseparable from attaining the virtue or virtues that make possible the best activity. (2011)

To sum up Aristotle’s conception of virtue ethics so far, then: in order to achieve eudaimonia, we must cultivate a character of excellent virtue and live a virtuous life. But this is not quite the whole picture. Aristotle believes that, in the course of living this virtuous life, it is also necessary (for human happiness) to exercise human reason and rationality as much as possible.

In order to understand the importance Aristotle places on human reason, it’s helpful to consider Aristotle’s starting point: the belief that everything has a function, or purpose, and that the exercise of this function leads to happiness. What separates humans from other animals, in Aristotle’s view, is our capacity for reason — and so it must therefore be our function to use these powers of reasoning as much as possible. As Richard Kraut explains,

The good of a human being must have something to do with being human; and what sets humanity off from other species, giving us the potential to live a better life, is our capacity to guide ourselves by using reason. If we use reason well, we live well as human beings [...]. Doing anything well requires virtue or excellence, and therefore living well consists in activities caused by the rational soul in accordance with virtue or excellence. ("Aristotle’s Ethics", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2022)

Aristotle claims that “the work of a human being is an activity of soul in accord with reason”, and that it is important to pursue these rational activities “well and nobly”, as they are “brought to completion well in accord with the virtue proper to it” (c. 340 BCE [2011]). In other words, a life of rational and virtuous activity is necessary for human happiness. 

Rationality is also necessary for a virtuous life in the first place. It is not enough to blindly follow a list of virtues, as this would not constitute truly virtuous action. A virtue is not “an unthinking habit”, but “an intelligent judgement about the appropriate response to the situation you are in” (Warburton, 2013). Aristotle believes that we must use our human reason to apply the virtues judiciously — depending on each individual circumstance. Aristotle calls this phronesis — understood in English as “prudence” or “practical wisdom” — and it’s an integral part of his virtue ethics as a whole. Stan van Hooft argues:

Understanding Virtue Ethics

Wisdom is an important intellectual virtue, but the most important of all is practical wisdom (phronëis) because it allows us to judge rightly what a situation calls for from us and to do it. (2014)

Without practical wisdom, it is not possible to apply the other virtues in practice. Therefore, without practical wisdom, it is impossible to live a virtuous and happy life at all. Through practical wisdom, for example, we are able to express the virtue of courage with the right degree of balance and moderation — depending on the specific circumstances, and without being too cowardly or too rash. This is where we reach one of the most well-known aspects of Aristotle’s virtue ethics: the doctrine of the mean, which is also referred to as the golden mean.

The golden mean refers to the moral virtue which lies between two related vices of excess and deficiency. Aristotle writes,

There are, then, three dispositions, two of them vices—one relating to an excess, the other to a deficiency—and one of them a virtue, namely, the mean. (c. 340 BCE [2011])

For Aristotle, courage is the virtue which lies between the vices of cowardice and recklessness, just as temperance is the virtue between insensibility and self-indulgence:

he who avoids and fears all things and endures nothing becomes a coward, and he who generally fears nothing but advances toward all things becomes reckless. Similarly, he who enjoys every pleasure and abstains from none becomes licentious; but he who avoids every pleasure, as the boorish do, is a sort of "insensible" person. Moderation and courage are indeed destroyed by excess and deficiency, but they are preserved by the mean. (c. 340 BCE [2011])

A coward exhibits a deficiency of courage, while a reckless person exhibits an excess of courage. Practical wisdom is necessary for identifying the golden mean in the middle — the area in which each respective virtue resides, along this spectrum of excess and deficiency. Aristotle explains that virtue is “a characteristic defined by reason and as the prudent person would define it” (c. 340 BCE [2011]).

In summary, then, Aristotle’s virtue ethics can be (very simply) broken down in the following way:

The foundational goal of Aristotle’s virtue ethics is to help us achieve eudaimonia; happiness, or a good life. 

In order to do so, we must cultivate virtuous characters and live virtuous lives. 

We must also use reason, as it is the function of humans to do so. Practical wisdom is also necessary for applying the virtues throughout our lives. 

Virtues can be found on a spectrum between two vices. The virtue lies in the middle, as the so-called golden mean. 

Aristotle’s understanding of ‘ethics’ has more to do with what makes life worth living than with obedience to the moral law. Given that human beings have purposes built into their very mode of being, virtue is whatever helps us achieve those purposes. (2014)

With his virtue ethics, Aristotle does not set out to create a binding moral rulebook for society to follow. Instead, we are encouraged to fulfill our purpose and achieve eudaimonia. “The goal of virtue is to be happy in Aristotle’s special sense of that term”, van Hooft argues, and — crucially — “You cannot be happy without being good” (2014). This last point is key, as contemporary Aristotelian virtue ethicists would argue that society as a whole benefits from individual lives of virtuous (and therefore good) action. 

The legacy of Aristotle’s virtue ethics

Just as with his wider philosophical ideas, Aristotle’s formulation of virtue ethics has had a formative influence on Western thought. When considering virtue ethics as a whole, Hursthouse and Pettigrove claim:

It persisted as the dominant approach in Western moral philosophy until at least the Enlightenment, suffered a momentary eclipse during the nineteenth century, but re-emerged in Anglo-American philosophy in the late 1950s. (“Virtue Ethics”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2022)

Virtue ethics has experienced a modern revival, taking its place alongside consequentialism and deontology as one of the three main theories in the field of normative ethics. Even in its divergent modern forms, Hursthouse and Pettigrove find clear traces of Aristotle’s influence:

Although modern virtue ethics does not have to take a ‘neo-Aristotelian’ or eudaimonist form [...] almost any modern version still shows that its roots are in ancient Greek philosophy by the employment of three concepts derived from it. These are arête (excellence or virtue), phronesis (practical or moral wisdom) and eudaimonia (usually translated as happiness or flourishing). (2022)

Modern virtue ethicists remain attracted to the foundational principle that eudaimonia is a worthy goal in life, and that virtue will help us attain it. As Warburton summarizes,

Many modern philosophers believe that he [Aristotle] was right about the importance of developing the virtues, and that his view of what happiness is was accurate and inspiring. Instead of looking to increase our pleasure in life, they think, we should try to become better people and do the right thing. That is what makes a life go well. (2011)

Many other philosophers, of course, would disagree with modern virtue ethicists. To read about divergent ethical theories in more depth, you can explore the ethics and moral philosophy section of Perlego’s library. 

Alfano, M. (2015) Current Controversies in Virtue Theory. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1560674/current-controversies-in-virtue-theory-pdf 

Besser-Jones, L. and Slote, M. (eds.) (2015) The Routledge Companion to Virtue Ethics. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1626076/the-routledge-companion-to-virtue-ethics-pdf 

Devettere, R. (2002) Introduction to Virtue Ethics. Georgetown University Press. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/949625/introduction-to-virtue-ethics-insights-of-the-ancient-greeks-pdf 

Harrison, T. and Walker, D. I. (eds.) (2018) The Theory and Practice of Virtue Education. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1381188/the-theory-and-practice-of-virtue-education-pdf 

Hughes, G. (2013) The Routledge Guidebook to Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1624837/the-routledge-guidebook-to-aristotles-nicomachean-ethics-pdf 

Kraut, R. (ed.) (2008) The Blackwell Guide to Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. Wiley. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/2777650/the-blackwell-guide-to-aristotles-nicomachean-ethics-pdf 

May, H. (2010) Aristotle’s Ethics. Bloomsbury Publishing. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/805245/aristotles-ethics-moral-development-and-human-nature-pdf .

Singer, P. (2013) A Companion to Ethics. Wiley. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1007291/a-companion-to-ethics-pdf 

Aristotle (2011) Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. The University of Chicago Press. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1834173/aristotles-nicomachean-ethics-pdf 

de Botton, A. (ed.) (2020) Great Thinkers. The School of Life. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1637102/great-thinkers-simple-tools-from-sixty-great-thinkers-to-improve-your-life-today-pdf 

Hursthouse, R. and Pettigrove, G. (2022) "Virtue Ethics", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Winter 2022 Edition. Available at: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2022/entries/ethics-virtue/ 

Kraut, R. (2022) "Aristotle’s Ethics", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Fall 2022 Edition. Available at: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2022/entries/aristotle-ethics/ 

Ross, D. (2004) Aristotle. 6th edn. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1617972/aristotle-pdf 

Shields, C. (2022) "Aristotle", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Spring 2022 Edition. Available at: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2022/entries/aristotle/ 

van Hooft, S. (2014) Understanding Virtue Ethics. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1558497/understanding-virtue-ethics-pdf 

van Zyl, L. (2018) Virtue Ethics. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1617824/virtue-ethics-a-contemporary-introduction-pdf 

Warburton, N. (2011) A Little History of Philosophy. Yale University Press.

Warburton, N. (2013) Philosophy: The Basics. 5th edn. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1508905/philosophy-the-basics-pdf 

Warburton, N. (2014) Philosophy: The Classics. 4th edn. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1557108/philosophy-the-classics-pdf 

What is Aristotle's Virtue Ethics?

Consequentialism in Ethics | Definition, Examples & Analysis | Perlego

Consequentialism, as the name suggests, refers to a family of ethical theories which judge the morality of a given action based on its consequences. Consequentialism’s underlying moral framework assumes that good outcomes are preferable to bad ones; that happiness is preferable to pain, and that consequences should be measured accordingly. 

As Julia Driver observes in Consequentialism (2011), 

Consequentialism

The core idea captured by this approach has a good deal of intuitive appeal. One of the things, at least, that we look for when evaluating actions morally is their effects.

Since it is natural and intuitive to consider the effects of an action when assessing its morality, consequentialism is not the only ethical model to do so. What sets consequentialism apart, however, is that “the moral quality of a person's actions, or character, is solely determined by the effects of the action or character trait in question” (Driver, 2011). Consequences may be important in other ethical theories, to various degrees, but in consequentialism the consequences are (largely) all that matter. 

As we will see, there are many different forms of consequentialism. Some consequentialists argue that the ends always justify the means, while others argue for a set of moral guidelines and a looser commitment to absolute consequences. Utilitarianism, with its foundational premise that the greatest total happiness for the greatest number should be pursued, is the most well-known version of consequentialism. 

As Walter Sinnott-Armstrong notes, utilitarianism is the “paradigm case of consequentialism” (“Consequentialism”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2022). At the fundamental level, utilitarianism judges the moral quality of an action based on how it affects the sum total happiness of the greatest number of people. With its emphasis on the pursuit of happiness and the avoidance of pain, utilitarianism can be said to be hedonistic at heart, and it also calls to mind the pursuit of eudaimonia (happiness, or human flourishing and well-being) advocated by early Greek philosophers such as Epicurus and Aristotle. As a consequentialist theory, utilitarianism measures an action’s impact on the collective, rather than individual, level. Some utilitarians extend this measurement to include animals, with a creature’s ability to suffer being the key qualifier for its inclusion in the consequentialist equation.   

The conceptual history of utilitarianism is rich and lengthy, but the two key thinkers behind its classic form are Jeremy Bentham (1748–1832) and John Stuart Mill (1806–1873). Generally speaking, Bentham’s utilitarianism does not discriminate between different types of pleasure and pain. For Bentham, the source of pleasure and pain is not to be included in our moral calculation — we only need to be concerned with the raw results. A stereotypically highbrow source of pleasure (such as intellectual study) would not be favored over a lowbrow source (such as a hearty meal), and vice versa. Using the felicific calculus (also referred to as the hedonic calculus), we are able to arrive at the sum total of pleasure and pain that a given action brings to all affected sentient beings (including animals). In Bentham’s view, 

An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation

An action then may be said to be conformable to the principle of utility [...] when the tendency it has to augment the happiness of the community is greater than any it has to diminish it. (An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation, 1789 [2012])

John Stuart Mill, on the other hand, distinguishes between what he sees as higher and lower pleasures; believing that it is also important to take into account the quality of pleasure and not just the quantity. As Mill famously writes in Utilitarianism (1861 [2016]),

Utilitarianism

It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. 

In Mill’s view, an unhappy human being’s experience is still of a higher quality than a happy pig’s experience. Similarly, the experience of an unhappy deep thinker like Socrates is regarded as more valuable than the experience of a happy fool. Mill is making a qualitative judgment that takes into account the type of happiness experienced, rather than the sheer quantity of happiness alone. Although the quantity may be lower in these scenarios, Mill regards the quality as higher and therefore more desirable. 

Under classical utilitarianism, then, the most moral path is that which results in the greatest sum total of happiness, and the least sum total of pain, for all those affected. But how can the consequences of an action be measured in practice? Do we draw a line somewhere, or are we meant to anticipate the long string of consequences and secondary effects any given action may cause in the future? What if we expect an action to have positive consequences, but it actually has negative consequences? Would we still have made an ethical choice? As we will explore in the next section, there are different formulations of consequentialism which seek to address some of these issues.

Classical utilitarianism, as we’ve discussed, is the prime example of a consequentialist ethical theory. But now let’s zoom out, and consider its place in the wider family of consequentialist ethical models.  

Objective and subjective consequentialism

Broadly speaking, the classical utilitarianism previously discussed is an example of objective consequentialism. As Vuko Andrić explains in From Value to Rightness (2021), 

From Value to Rightness

Theories like classical utilitarianism are versions of objective consequentialism. According to objective consequentialism, the rightness and wrongness of actions depend on the consequences that actions do in fact have.

In objective consequentialism, the actual consequences are measured — not the presumed, or intended, consequences of an action. But subjective consequentialism is different. Andrić continues: 

According to subjective consequentialism, the rightness and wrongness of actions depend on foreseen or foreseeable consequences. According to a subjectivist version of classical utilitarianism, for example, the rightness and wrongness of actions depend on the sum total of happiness that the agent foresees or can foresee the actions to have. (2021)

Subjective consequentialism, then, is more forgiving of the moral agent — and less cognitively demanding (Andrić, 2021). It is not necessary to predict, with 100% accuracy, what the vast web of consequences may be for any given action. For an action to be morally good, under subjective consequentialism, the moral agent is only required to measure the consequences they can be reasonably expected to foresee. 

Objective consequentialism has been subject to criticism due to its demanding and unforgiving implications, and so subjective consequentialism is often suggested as a less problematic model to follow (Andrić, 2021). 

Classical utilitarianism also belongs under the wider banner of act consequentialism — as it predicates the morality of an action on nothing but the raw results of that action. Under act consequentialism, the ends completely justify the means. This puts it in direct opposition with deontological ethical models, which hold that there are intrinsic and inviolable principles such as truth and justice which we should adhere to, no matter the consequences. 

Andrić argues that both objective and subjective consequentialism belong under the umbrella of act consequentialism, as they make reference to actual consequences — even if, with subjective consequentialism, these are only the “expected or rationally expectable consequences” (2021).

Because of its commitment to raw consequences above all else, act consequentialism has received heavy criticism. As Julia Driver observes in Consequentialism (2011),

One serious problem is that act-consequentialism seems, in principle, anyway, incompatible with our intuitions about justice, since the theory might require that we actually violate someone's rights in order to promote overall good.

Driver gives the example of a sheriff who has to decide whether to condemn an innocent man to death in order to appease a mob, or save the man and lose twenty children instead due to the mob’s angry stampede. In this case,

[T]he act-utilitarian seems to be committed to holding that allowing the innocent man to be hanged is the right thing to do because it leads to the death of only one innocent person, as opposed to twenty. (Driver, 2011)

Some act consequentialists, of course, might still regard such an outcome as the lesser of two evils. They might argue that the net overall happiness promoted by saving twenty children outweighs the pain caused by the unjust death of one man. But if such ethical quandaries are regarded as an issue, the main alternative to act consequentialism is rule consequentialism. 

Under rule consequentialism, consequences are not all that matter. Instead, specified moral rules are also followed. These rules are not just any rules, however — they are still identified with reference to the consequences that following that particular rule would generally have. As Driver summarizes,

The rule-utilitarian holds that the right action is not the action that results in the best overall consequences, rather it is the action performed in accordance with the set of rules which maximize the good. (2011)

If murder, for example, is generally associated with consequences which do not maximize the good, then rule utilitarians would see murder as immoral — even in the specific, hypothetical circumstances in which murder might actually result in the best overall outcomes for all those involved. However, in contrast with deontological models, murder would still not be seen as intrinsically immoral. It would only be seen as immoral due to its consequences in general. 

There is some crossover here with motive consequentialism, in which the motives of the moral agent are the salient factor in any ethical measurement. If the moral agent follows motives which generally lead to good outcomes, then their resultant actions can be regarded as moral — even if the actual consequences fall short of this ideal. 

Although utilitarianism, with its focus on collective well-being, is the most well-known version of consequentialism, there is another version of consequentialism which is focused on self-interest alone: ethical egoism. As Robert Shaver writes, 

Ethical egoism claims that I morally ought to perform some action if and only if, and because, performing that action maximizes my self-interest. (“Egoism” in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2023)

Ethical egoism is seen as a branch of consequentialism as it still measures the morality of an action according to its consequences — except in this case, the consequences for the moral agent themselves. Individual self-interest is all that is taken into account, with the happiness and pain caused to others being dismissed from the equation.

If the logic of egoistic consequentialism is followed to its conclusion, then, it would prioritize the fleeting happiness of one individual over the long and drawn-out suffering of countless others (if, hypothetically, this individual’s happiness is also not sufficiently reduced by guilt or empathy). 

Criticism of this egoistic form of consequentialism has been severe, with many arguing that it is nothing more than a flawed justification for selfishness. It could also be argued that, in a world in which our own well-being is bound up with the well-being of others, egoistic consequentialism could actually be (ironically) self-defeating. If ethical egoism was universalized, with each individual only acting in accord with their self-interest, then the well-being of each individual would actually suffer due to their dependence on others. 

Mohism, named after the ancient Chinese philosopher Mòzǐ (c.470–391 BCE), is notable for its emphasis on the collective good and the importance of impartial care for others. As Chris Fraser argues in The Philosophy of the Mòzĭ (2016),

The Philosophy of the Mòzĭ

The Mohists may also have been the first thinkers in the world to build a systematic ethics around an explicit conception of impartiality, expressed through their notions of jiān 兼, or ‘all-inclusiveness,’ and tiān xià zhī lì 天下之利, or ‘the benefit of all the world.’

Mohism is thought to be “history’s first version of consequentialism”, as it focuses on the consequences of actions for everyone — “a conception of the public good comprising material welfare, an abundant population, and sociopolitical ‘order’ ” (Fraser, 2016). 

Lofty ethical discussions can sometimes feel quite abstract, and removed from our everyday experience. When looking for a concrete example to discuss, we could select an important issue like euthanasia, as utilitarianism has a valuable contribution to make here with its focus on the avoidance of pain and the promotion of happiness. But such debates are already well-trodden, and it may be interesting to turn our attention to the smaller web of consequentialist ethical decisions we make each day (even if we do not recognize them as such). Let’s consider just one of these everyday examples. 

We are in the supermarket, debating which products to buy and scrutinizing their packaging for clues. We might be attracted to products with biodegradable packaging, or organic products which offset their carbon emissions. The environment would not be saved overnight due to our decision, but we may feel that our small action contributes to the popularity of products which are aiming to lessen their impact on the environment. The underlying ethical motivation behind this might be that the planet is worth saving in its own right, or we might be motivated by the reduced suffering this would bring to animal and human life (both now and in future generations). In some ways, then, when we are considering the environmental impact of our shopping habits we are engaging in consequentialist ethical decision-making.

A strict utilitarian, of course, might argue that an optimal consumer strategy would favor locally sourced goods, and that other considerations (such as modern slavery in production processes) should also be taken into account in order to maximize happiness and minimize pain. Some utilitarians might also argue that we should minimize unnecessary expenditure, and give as much of our income as possible to charity. In theory, this would maximize the sum total of collective happiness to the greatest degree. The degree, and quality, of collective human happiness would be better served if a billionaire were to save lives through charitable donations, for example, instead of leaving the money in their bank. 

The above example may seem trivial, but it shows the ways in which consequentialist decision-making suffuses our everyday life. Consequentialism underlies the way we choose to spend our money and time, the decisions we make in a voting booth, and each small interaction we have with the world around us. Together, the small everyday decisions we make contribute to larger and wider collective consequences — forming the societies we end up living in.

What is consequentialism in simple terms?

Is utilitarianism the same as consequentialism?

What are the best books on consequentialism?

Hiller, A., Ilea, R. and Kahn, L. (eds) (2013) Consequentialism and Environmental Ethics. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1680357/consequentialism-and-environmental-ethics-pdf 

Mulgan, T. (2014) Understanding Utilitarianism. 1st edn. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1558515/understanding-utilitarianism-pdf 

Scarre, G. (2020) Utilitarianism. 1st edn. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1828889/utilitarianism-pdf 

Singer, P. (2011) Practical Ethics. 3rd edn. Cambridge University Press. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/2883167/practical-ethics-pdf  

Slote, M. (2020) Common-Sense Morality and Consequentialism. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1629632/commonsense-morality-and-consequentialism-pdf 

Andrić, V. (2021) From Value to Rightness. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/2568217/from-value-to-rightness-consequentialism-actionguidance-and-the-perspectivedependence-of-moral-duties-pdf 

Bentham, J. (2012) An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation (Barnes & Noble Digital Library). Barnes & Noble. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/3716192/an-introduction-to-the-principles-of-morals-and-legislation-barnes-noble-digital-library-pdf  

Driver, J. (2011) Consequentialism. Taylor and Francis. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/1618923/consequentialism-pdf 

Fraser, C. (2016) The Philosophy of the Mòzĭ. Columbia University Press. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/774115/the-philosophy-of-the-mz-the-first-consequentialists-pdf 

Mill, J. S. (2016) Utilitarianism. Edited by Andrew Bailey. Broadview Press. Available at: https://www.perlego.com/book/2030606/utilitarianism-ed-bailey-pdf  

Shaver, R. "Egoism", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Spring 2023 Edition. Edward N. Available at: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2023/entries/egoism/ 

Sinnott-Armstrong, W. "Consequentialism", The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Winter 2022 Edition. Available at: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2022/entries/consequentialism/ 

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What is Utility Theory?

Utilitarianism in Ethics | Definition, Examples & Analysis

In a basic sense, utilitarianism can be understood as an ethical theory which seeks to maximise happiness and minimise pain. It has had a huge impact in the field of ethics and beyond, with many of its moral principles now permeating the common consciousness. You may already be familiar, for example, with the utilitarian ‘happiness principle’: that an action is moral (or not) based on how it affects the sum total of happiness experienced by the greatest number of people. 

Tracing the origins of utilitarianism is a complex task, as it has a rich conceptual background. The primacy of happiness as a human goal was recognised by such early thinkers as Epicurus and Aristotle, for example. Influential contributors to the development of utilitarian thought also include Francis Hutcheson and David Hume, among others. 

In the following discussion, however, we will be focusing on utilitarianism’s two most important thinkers: Jeremy Bentham, the ‘father’ of classical utilitarianism, and John Stuart Mill, who finessed Bentham’s theory to create what remains the most influential formulation of utilitarianism to this day. 

Jeremy Bentham (1748–1832) is thought to have coined the term utilitarianism itself in 1781, and he was the first to truly flesh out the theory in detail. In An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation (1789 [2012]), he lays the groundwork for his theory of utilitarianism with this memorable opening passage,

NATURE has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them alone to point out what we ought to do, as well as to determine what we shall do. On the one hand the standard of right and wrong, on the other the chain of causes and effects, are fastened to their throne. They govern us in all we do, in all we say, in all we think.

For Bentham, pain and pleasure hold the key. They are the two motivating factors behind human behaviour, and the goodness of any moral action may be determined by the balance of pleasure and pain it causes. How much pleasure, and how much pain, does the action in question lead to? The consequences of an action are to be taken into account according to this equation; not just the initial impact, but all the subsequent ripples that may follow (in this way, utilitarianism subscribes to the consequentialist view of ethics). 

In Bentham’s view, then, the utility (or goodness) of an action depends upon how much pleasure or pain it creates, or prevents from being created. Bentham writes,

By utility is meant that property in any object, whereby it tends to produce benefit, advantage, pleasure, good, or happiness [...] or [...] to prevent the happening of mischief, pain, evil, or unhappiness. (1789 [2012])

If we, as a moral agent, are presented with an ethical decision to make, the most moral, utilitarian action is the one which maximises pleasure and minimises pain. Bentham does not just focus on individual happiness, but on the ‘greatest happiness for the greatest number’ – as each constituent individual’s happiness must be taken into account. Bentham explains:

An action then may be said to be conformable to the principle of utility [...] when the tendency it has to augment the happiness of the community is greater than any it has to diminish it. (1789 [2012])

Each individual’s happiness is also equally weighted on Bentham’s scales of moral value – the prince is not granted preferential status over the pauper. For his time, this is a notably egalitarian stance to take. Bentham even extended this moral consideration to include (in theory) every sentient being, as the criteria employed is a being’s capacity for suffering rather than their capacity for reasoning. As Bentham writes, ‘The question is not, Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, Can they suffer?’ (1789 [2012]).

Bentham also makes no distinction between higher and lower pleasures (unlike John Stuart Mill, as we will explore in the next section). Bentham argues that the result of the pleasure should be our key concern, not the source. If an individual gains the same amount of pleasure from skipping stones in a pond (for example) as they do from attending the most highbrow of opera productions, then there is no reason to prefer one source of pleasure over the other. 

Bentham suggests that we follow a guide, known as his felicific or hedonic calculus, to help us judge the sum total of pleasure and pain. Bentham’s calculus identifies seven criteria we should apply to the assessment of pain or pleasure:

Its propinquity (nearness) or remoteness.

Its fecundity – does it create new pleasure and pain? If so, how much? 

Its extent (or the number of people affected).

With each of these qualities in mind, Bentham argues, we will then be able to ‘Sum up all the values of all the pleasures on the one side, and those of all the pains on the other. The balance, if it be on the side of pleasure, will give the good tendency of the act upon the whole’. Importantly, he stresses that we should also ‘Take an account of the number of persons whose interests appear to be concerned; and repeat the above process with respect to each’ (1789 [2012]). 

To summarise Bentham’s utilitarianism, then, a morally good act is that which, on balance, creates more pleasure than pain for all those who are affected by that act. We may be daunted by the difficult process of working out this sum total of pleasure and pain, painstakingly using the felicific calculus and attempting to trace each potential consequence, but Bentham maintains that this should be the moral agent’s goal. 

John Stuart Mill (1806–1873) was raised to be a utilitarian from childhood, as he was not only a student of Jeremy Bentham himself, but also homeschooled by his father James Mill (Bentham’s friend and follower). 

John Stuart Mill even writes in his Autobiography (1873 [2003]) that, after contact with Bentham’s utilitarianism,

Autobiography

I now had opinions; a creed, a doctrine, a philosophy; in one among the best senses of the word, a religion; the inculcation and diffusion of which could be made the principal outward purpose of a life.

Bentham’s foundational influence on Mill’s utilitarian thinking is clear, then, and the utilitarianism that Mill later develops does have much in common with that of his friend and teacher.

In his influential Utilitarianism (1861 [2016]), Mill agrees that ‘the utilitarian standard [...] is not the agent’s own greatest happiness, but the greatest amount of happiness altogether’. Mill’s ‘Greatest Happiness Principle’ will also seem familiar:

The creed which accepts as the foundation of morals, Utility, or the Greatest Happiness Principle, holds that actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness. By happiness is intended pleasure, and the absence of pain; by unhappiness, pain, and the privation of pleasure. (1861 [2016])

Despite these marked similarities, Mill’s utilitarianism has important points of divergence – with the most obvious of these being Mill’s distinction between ‘higher’ and ‘lower’ pleasures. Unlike Bentham, Mill does not believe that all pleasures are created equal. Instead, Mill argues that the ‘quality’ as well as ‘quantity’ of pleasure should be taken into account when assessing the utility, or goodness, of an action. Mill’s view is that ‘some kinds of pleasure are more desirable and more valuable than others’, and that this difference is self-evident:

[I]t is an unquestionable fact that those who are equally acquainted with, and equally capable of appreciating and enjoying, both, do give a most marked preference to the manner of existence which employs their higher faculties. Few human creatures would consent to be changed into any of the lower animals, for a promise of the fullest allowance of a beast’s pleasures. (1861 [2016])

One of the criticisms levelled at Bentham’s utilitarianism is that it would seem to justify a life full of nothing but these ‘beast’s pleasures’, and so Mill’s alternative formulation here seeks to close down that line of attack. Mill argues that utilitarianism should not be reduced to an animalistic hedonism, with the ‘lower’ pleasures of the body being dominant, as we would naturally choose a life full of ‘higher’ pleasures where given the choice. Mill famously writes that,

It is better to be a human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. (1861 [2016])

Mill’s hypothetical pig may have a happy life of bodily pleasures, rolling around in the muck and oblivious to higher concerns, but Mill argues that it would be better to choose the less pleasurable life of a dissatisfied human as we would be able to employ our ‘higher faculties’. Even if the sum total of our happiness would be lower in a quantitative sense, Mill argues that we should still choose a life of higher quality pleasures. As Nigel Warburton points out in Philosophy: The Classics (2014),

Philosophy: The Classics

This leaves him with the awkward fact that some people who are capable of experiencing sublime intellectual pleasures nevertheless throw themselves into lives of debauchery and sensual gratification. His response to this sort of case is that they are led astray by the temptation of immediate sensual gratification; they know full well that the higher pleasures are more worthwhile.

In summary, then, Mill’s utilitarianism asks us to take into account not just the greatest sum total of happiness that an action creates, but also the kind of happiness that is involved. Rather than just measuring the quantity of happiness for each affected ‘sentient being’, in other words, we should also take into account the quality of that happiness. 

Throughout its long and influential history, the classical utilitarianism of Bentham and Mill has attracted a wealth of critical engagement.

Many critics have taken issue with utilitarianism’s identification of happiness as the only intrinsic good, for example. Truth, beauty, and justice are often cited as concepts which also deserve that status. Deontologists, in the tradition of Immanuel Kant, would argue in favour of universal moral laws, which are morally right in and of themselves without reference to their consequences. Kant’s categorical imperative, introduced in his Moral Law: Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals (1785 [2013]), holds that you should only act if you are happy for that action to become a universal law. If you lie, for example, you should then be happy for lying to become the universal law. Utilitarianism, on the other hand, would consider the consequences of the lie as the determinant factor of its morality, rather than the lie itself. In utilitarianism, morality is not seen as an absolute law – a lie may be excused, for example, if its consequences result in a greater balance of happiness than the alternative. 

A related criticism is that utilitarianism can therefore be (theoretically) used to justify actions which go against our moral intuition. Using the example of injustice, Nigel Warburton argues that ‘our intuitions are that punishing the innocent is unjust and should not be permitted whatever the beneficial consequences of this practice’ (2014). According to the logic of utilitarianism, even murder and torture are not regarded as morally wrong in their own right, but only with reference to their consequences. Hypothetically, if the sum total of happiness is best served by the torture of an innocent person, then utilitarianism would regard this as a morally good action. This argument makes a famous appearance, for example, in Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov (1880 [2017]):

The Brothers Karamazov

Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end [...] but that it was essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature [...] and to found that edifice on its unavenged tears, would you consent to be the architect on those conditions?

Many critics are also troubled by what utilitarianism would mean for minorities. As a society’s majority has the greatest influence on where the sum total of happiness lies, then there is always the possibility that minority interests are neglected or even actively oppressed under utilitarianism (if that is where the sum total of happiness leads). The only recourse oppressed minorities would have under utilitarianism would be if their suffering, on balance, was of such a degree that it outweighed the happiness of the majority. Can such a measurement be made with any degree of mathematical precision? Would the majority not be doing the measuring, and would this not then be open to possible prejudice and abuse? 

There is crossover, here, with another criticism of utilitarianism: that it rests upon the principle that people would be willing to sacrifice their self-interest in the name of the greater good. John Stuart Mill’s idealistic vision for society is one in which we are all morally educated in the utilitarian tradition, to such a degree that our empathy for others would naturally overpower our own self-interest. But is this a realistic view of human nature?

Many critics have also argued that utilitarianism is, fundamentally, impractical. As Tim Mulgan outlines in Understanding Utilitarianism (2014),

Understanding Utilitarianism

One enduring criticism of utilitarianism has always been that, as it rests upon precise calculations of utility, it is unworkable.

Can pleasure and pain be measured with the fine degree of certainty needed to conclusively decide the sum total of human happiness? If it is not possible to measure the precise balance of pleasure and pain with mathematical certainty, some choices would therefore be hard to judge. It is also difficult to predict consequences with any degree of precision. Is this prediction meant to include all consequences, for all time? At what point do you draw the line? Each human action is arguably the result of countless contributing factors, after all – how are these factors to be separated out into neat, utilitarian parcels of moral judgement? Consequences expand and spiral outwards, like a web, interacting with the consequences of other actions and becoming difficult to untangle. 

Others have argued, in response, for a looser interpretation of utilitarianism as a general guide, rather than as a prescriptive rulebook which requires us to make complicated and lengthy calculations for each action we take. In this looser sense, utilitarianism becomes more of a mental reminder to give equal consideration to all sentient beings affected by an action, and to think through the consequences of that action as far as possible. 

The legacy and influence of utilitarianism

The classical utilitarianism of Bentham and Mill has a rich legacy, inspiring many different formulations of utilitarianism throughout the 19th and 20th centuries – including (among others) act utilitarianism and rule utilitarianism. Utilitarianism’s influence has also reached beyond philosophy and ethics, with its impact upon the legal and political world being felt right up to the present day. 

As Andrew Bailey argues in his introduction to Mill’s Utilitarianism (1861 [2016]), utilitarianism was (along with Marxism) ‘arguably the most prevalent moral theory among philosophers, economists, political scientists, and other social theorists for much of the twentieth century’. Joseph Carrig, in his introduction to Bentham’s An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation (1789 [2012]), lays out the continuing legacy of Jeremy Bentham’s theories in particular,