J.S.MillEthics and politicsR.F.KhanON LIBERTYJohn Stuart Mill’s mature views on ethics and politics are to be found inOn Liberty(published in 1859),Utilitarianism(1861),Considerations on RepresentativeGovernment(1861) andThe Subjection of Women(written in 1861–2 but published in1869). Of these,Libertyis the centrepiece, detailing the doctrines and themes whichgovern most of the discussion in the other works. It is also the work by which Mill willbe most remembered. He himself picked it out as ‘likely to survive longer than anythingelse’ that he had written.1 It has aroused more controversy than any other of his writings,and the essayOn Libertyhas been taken by many of Mill’s critics as well as hissupporters to be the most distinctive if not authoritative statement of the liberal position.2In Mill’s words, the subject of the essay is ‘moral, social, and intellectual libertyasserted against the despotism of society whether exercised by governments or by publicopinion’ (15:581). From the outset, Mill emphasizes the threat to individual liberty posedby ‘the tyranny of the majority’ exercised either by a democratically elected governmentor through the non-legal pressure of public opinion (219–20).3 This was a concern thatMill had expressed in earlier writings, notably in the article onBentham4 and in hisreviews of Alexis de Tocqueville’sDemocracy in America.5 InLibertythe main threat toindividual independence is portrayed as coming from majority rule. This is because Millbelieved that, at least in the western world, democracy based on universal suffrage wasthe inevitable next stage of history (218).6 But it makes little difference to his mainarguments whether the threat to individual liberty comes from a majority dominatedgovern-ment and society or from non-democratic or less democratic social and politicalorganization.In order to draw the dividing line between the area of individual independence andsocial control, Mill appeals to a ‘very simple principle’ initially stated and elucidated asfollows:the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively, ininterfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection….[T]he only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over anymember of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others.His own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant.He cannotrightfully be compelled to do or forbear because it will be better for him to doso, because it will make him happier, because, in the opinions of others, to do sowould be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for remonstrating withhim, or reasoning with him, or persuading him, or entreating him, but not forcompelling him, or visiting him with any evil in case he do otherwise. To justifythat, the conduct from which it is desired to deter him, must be calculated toproduce evil to some one else. The only part of the conduct of any one, forwhich he is amenable to society, is that which concerns others. In the part whichmerely concerns himself, his independence is, of right, absolute. Over himself,over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign. (223–4).Two points fundamental to Mill’s doctrine are affirmed here. Firstly, the self-protectionprinciple, invoked to justify social and other external restrictions on individualindependence, appeals to the distinction between conduct that only ‘concerns theindividual’ and that which also ‘concerns others’. This distinction, commonly referred toas that between ‘self-regarding’ and ‘other-regarding’ actions,7 has often been the targetof Mill’s critics. They have sought, by challenging the validity of the distinction, toundermine Mill’s entire case for individual liberty. The standard objection has consistedin denying that there is, or can be, any such thing as purely self-regarding conduct. JamesFitzjames Stephen, a younger contemporary of Mill and a most vehement critic, declaredthat ‘every act that we do either does or may affect both ourselves and others’,consequently the distinction between self-regarding and other-regarding actions is‘altogether fallacious and unfounded’.8 And in spite of the fact that what Mill says infurther elaboration of the distinction is enough to rebut this objection, it has been echoedby other commentators.The second feature of Mill’s doctrine that is emphasized in the passage quoted above isthe rejection of paternalism—the view that society is justified in preventing otherwisefully responsible people from hurting or injuring themselves. The individual’s own goodor simply the perceived wrongness of his or her conduct is never ‘a sufficient warrant’ forany kind of coercive interference on the part of society or anyone else. Mill’suncompromising stand against paternalism has provoked much criticism and has foundlittle favour even amongst many of those who claim to support his other views and hisgeneral outlook.9Mill claims that his case for individual liberty is based on utilitarian grounds: ‘I foregoany advantage which could be derived from the idea of abstract right, as a thingindependent of utility. I regard utility as the ultimate appeal on all ethical questions; but itmust be utility in the largest sense, grounded on the permanent interests of man as aprogressive being’ (224). However, this qualification of the principle of utility,particularly as Mill presents it in the detail of his argument, has led some commentators tohold that Mill has abandoned utilitarianism,10 and many others to assign to him doctrineswhich are more or less radically modified versions of classical or Benthamiteutilitarianism.11 Whether, and to what extent, this is true constitutes an area of continuinginterest in Mill’s moral and political philosophy.The view that self-regarding conduct should be protected from external coerciveinterference implies, as Mill points out, the freedom to frame and pursue our plan of lifeso long as what we do does not harm others; and also the freedom to associate with othersfor purely self-regarding purposes. Mill also specifies as a necessary feature of a freesociety: ‘liberty of conscience, in the most comprehensive sense; liberty of thought andfeeling; absolute freedom of opinion and sentiment on all subjects, practical orspeculative, scientific, moral, or theological’ (225). However, Mill does not justifyfreedom of speech on the grounds of a simple appeal to the self-protection principle.Although expressions of opinion may be said to be a species of other-regarding conduct,the question of their permissibility or otherwise is not to be decided on the basis of howthey affect others—because ‘The liberty of expressing and publishing opinion…beingalmost of as much importance as the liberty of thought itself, and resting in great part onthe same reasons, is practically inseparable from it’ (225–6). Mill’s concern is to defendfreedom of speech regarding only the subjects he specifically mentions, thus excludingmatters pertaining to a person’s private affairs. It is with respect to this specified area ofthought that he supports absolute or unrestricted freedom of expression,12 and seeks tojustify it on grounds other than those based on the distinction between self-regarding andother-regarding conduct.The essential ideas which constitute or underpin Mill’s defence of individual freedomare the distinction between self- and other-regarding conduct, the rejection ofpaternalism, the unrestricted right to freedom of expression, and the ethical doctrine towhich he appeals. These are the theses that his critics have challenged ever since thepublication ofLiberty. And the fact that they are still being questioned speaks not onlyfor the central character of the issues Mill addresses but also for the strength of thearguments that can be mounted in defence of his answer.FREEDOM OF EXPRESSIONChapter 1 ofLiberty,which sets out Mill’s general position, is followed by his defence offreedom of expression. Almost a third of the book is devoted to this subject and it is clearthat Mill regards the arguments and considerations that he advanced in support of freespeech to have special significance for individual liberty.The central argument13 that Mill cites against censorship is epitomized in the statementthat ‘All silencing of discussion is an assumption of infallibility’ and, therefore,unjustified since any such assumption must be unfounded (229–30).14 The argumentproceeds on the basis that ‘Complete liberty of contradicting and disproving an opinion,is the very condition which justifies us in assuming its truth…; and on no other terms cana being with human faculties have any rational assurance of being right’ (231).15 This is alogical claim regarding the rationality of beliefs or the basis for the assignment of truthvaluesto beliefs. Mill’s contention is that we are entitled to hold a belief or declare it tobe true only if it is open to criticism and survives attempted refutations. Consequently, ifdiscussion and criticism of an opinion are prevented by legal or social restrictions, thenthere can be no rational basis for taking it to be true or false.This principle of the rationality of beliefs is explicitly acknowledged in the followingpassage:The beliefs which we have most warrant for, have no safeguard to rest on, but astanding invitation to the whole world to prove them unfounded. If the challengeis not accepted, or is accepted and the attempt fails, we are far enough fromcertainty still; but we have done the best that the existing state of human reasonadmits of; we have neglected nothing that could give the truth a chance ofreaching us: if the lists are kept open, we may hope that if there be a better truth,it will be found when the human mind is capable of receiving it; and in themeantime we may rely on having attained such approach to truth, as is possiblein our own day. This is the amount of certainty attainable by a fallible being, andthis the sole way of attaining it. (232)16The passage also indicates that in Mill’s view there are no absolutely certain beliefs andthat all claims to truth are provisional in so far as subsequent criticism may overthrowthem.17 Of course, as Isaiah Berlin points out, those who maintain that it is possible toascertain and affirm absolute truths will not accept Mill’s account of the logicalfoundation of beliefs.18 On the other hand, those who claim that we can get hold ofabsolute truth, particularly in the area of human affairs, will need to show that we can stillhave a viable conception of rationality, and it is Mill’s contention that this is notpossible.19Fitzjames Stephen, who recognized the real (logical) character of the argument frominfallibility,20 challenged it on the grounds of irrelevance to the question of censorship.He pointed out that censorship may be, and commonly is, justified not because thesuppressed opinion or doctrine is considered to be false but because ‘it is not considereddesirable that it should be discussed’ ([3.30], 77). Mill anticipates such a move which, ashe puts it, seeks to make ‘the justification of restraints on discussion not a question of thetruth of doctrines, but of their usefulness; and flatters itself by that means to escape theresponsibility of claiming to be an infallible judge of opinions’ (233).21 He rejects themove on the grounds that ‘no belief which is contrary to truth can be really useful’ in thatno one can genuinely hold a belief unless it is taken to be true. And as the usefulness of abelief requires that it should be subscribed to, it follows that its utility would also requireit to be regarded as true.22 What Mill is maintaining here is not to be questioned on thegrounds that many useful beliefs happen to be false. What, in his view, is necessary is thatwhen these beliefs are held they are subjectively taken to be true. Consequently, beliefsprotected from criticism on the basis of their utility must also be viewed as true, and thosecontrary to them as false, thus exposing such a move to the original charge ofirrationality. No doubt those who protect a belief because of its utility—the censors—need not take it to be true and may even regard it as false. But they cannot avoiddeclaringit to be true in so far as they want to promote subscription to it. And as theymust declare it to be true without permitting it to be criticized, they present themselves asinfallible.23In the second part of his case against censorship Mill proceeds as if he concedes for thesake of argument that truth is not logically tied to scrutiny and discussion.24 We may thentake an opinion to be true independently of any critical assessment of it. But, Milldeclares, this still does not justify protecting it from criticism because such a movereduces the belief in question to ‘a dead dogma’,—‘held in the manner of a prejudice…deprived of its vital effect on the character and conduct,…as a mere formalprofession’ (243, 258). If beliefs are to function as living truths governing the conductand affairs of those who hold them, they need to be fully and frequently put to the test ofcritical discussion. Mill suggests that where there is a natural and general consensus infavour of some view, it may be necessary to introduce artificially a programme of dissentand criticism in order to vitalize it (251).25It is not clear why, and consequently in what sense, opinions in the absence ofdiscussion turn into ‘dead dogma’. On the one hand, we are told that they have no effecton character and conduct in that they involve only a verbal adherence.26 Those who holda belief or subscribe to a doctrine in the absence of discussion do not in any proper senseof the word know what they profess, the very meaning of the belief is lost or seriouslydistorted (247, 258);27 consequently, it cannot have any significant impact on characterand conduct. On the other hand, the protected beliefs are said to be held as mereprejudice, without any rational consideration of their grounds (244). But as we all know,prejudice serves very effectively as a determinant of dispositions and actions. Moreover,the examples that Mill gives of ‘dead’ beliefs do little to clarify the conception. He pointsout that ‘the maxims and precepts contained in the New Testament’, which constitute thecentral doctrines of the faith, were accepted as ‘living truths’ by the early Christiansbecause they were held in the face of active and hostile criticism. These same doctrineshave become ‘dead dogmas’ because in the modern era Christianity is protected fromcritical dissent. With hardly any exception, latter-day Christians merely verballyacknowledge that one should love one’s neighbours as oneself or take no thought for themorrow, or that it is doubtful that the rich can enter the kingdom of heaven, etc. withoutacting on these beliefs (248–50). But clearly the case that Mill draws attention to is opento a different and more reasonable interpretation. The beliefs he mentions are thosewhose content essentially spills over into conduct, so that in the consistent absence ofrelevant actions we may well deny that they are held at all by those who profess them.What we would have then would be cases of hypocrisy and not, as Mill claims, failure tograsp the meaning of these propositions.This is the least satisfactory part of Mill’s case for freedom of expression. Even if wegrant that protecting a belief from criticism implies ignorance of its grounds,28 it does notfollow from this that one does not know the meaning of what one believes.29 The viewthat a racial group is inferior in specified respects may be protected from criticismwithout any loss in meaning to those who subscribe to it.30 Propaganda and other formsof indoctrination by their very nature exclude criticism and rational discussion but theystill succeed in promoting the desired beliefs. And, as history shows, there is no reason tohold that such protected beliefs have little or no direct influence on conduct.The strength of Mill’s case against censorship lies in his central contention that thevery idea of rationality regarding beliefs and attitudes depends on the possibility ofcritical assessment. The value of freedom of expression then consists in the fact that itsprovision makes it possible for us to be rational. Where the life of a community isconcerned, freedom of discussion is indispensable for ‘great thinkers’ to pursue bold andnovel lines of thought, and much more so for ‘average human beings to attain the mentalstature they are capable of (243).31 In other words, since our mental well-being dependson our being rational, freedom of discussion is necessary for our mental well-being (onwhich all other well-being depends) (257–8).SELF-REGARDING CONDUCT AND INDIVIDUALITYThe line dividing the area of individual freedom from that of legitimate social control isidentical to that separating self-regarding from other-regarding conduct. Mill indicatesfrom the start that the boundaries of these regions are not to be drawn simply on the basisof determining whether or not a causal connection exists between the individual’s actionsand specified effects suffered by others. Rather, he makes it abundantly clear that weneed to appeal to a normative criterion in order to demarcate between self-regarding andother-regarding conduct. Thus, in the opening chapter ofLiberty,Mill describes the areaof self-regarding action as ‘comprehending all that portion of a person’s life and conductwhich affects only himself, or if it affects others, only with their free, voluntary andundeceived consent and participation’ (225).32 This statement is immediately qualified:‘When I say only himself, I mean directly and in the first instance; for whatever affectshimself may affect others through himself; and the objection that may be grounded onthis contingency will receive consideration in the sequel’ (225). In the ‘sequel’, i.e.chapter 4 ofLiberty,Mill concedes thatthe mischief which a person does to himself may seriously affect, both throughtheir sympathies and their interests, those nearly connected with him, and in aminor degree, society at large. When, by conduct of this sort, a person is led toviolate a distinct and assignable obligation to any other person or persons, thecase is taken out of the self-regarding class, and becomes amenable to moraldisapprobation in the proper sense of the term… Whoever fails in theconsideration generally due to the interests and feelings of others, not beingcompelled by some more imperative duty, or justified by allowable selfpreference,is a subject of moral disapprobation for that failure, but not for thecause of it, nor for the errors merely personal to himself, which may haveremotely led to it. In like manner, when a person disables himself, by conductpurely self-regarding, from the performance of some definite duty incumbent onhim to the public, he is guilty of a social offence… Whenever…there is adefinite damage, or a definite risk of damage, either to an individual or to thepublic, the case is taken out of the province of liberty and placed in that ofmorality or law… But with regard to the merely contingent, or…constructiveinjury which a person causes to society, by conduct which neither violates anyspecific duty to the public, nor occasions perceptible hurt to any assignableindividual except himself; the inconvenience is one which society can afford tobear, for the sake of the greater good of human freedom. (281–2)33Although, in these statements, Mill seems to be specifying two necessary conditions ofself-regarding conduct—that it does not involve the breach of a specific duty and alsothat it is not the cause of perceptible hurt to an assignable individual—furtherconsideration shows that the second condition should be regarded as subordinate to thefirst. The cases of contingent injury that Mill specifies are of the following four kinds: (1)An individual through some form of self-indulgence harms himself (‘deteriorates hisbodily or mental faculties’) with the result that he is unable to use his abilities for thebenefit of society, e.g. he cannot be, or any longer function as, a doctor (280).34 (2)Similar conduct on the part of an individual that affects others adversely by serving as abad example which they follow (280). (3) An act (e.g. not observing the Sabbath) whichcauses pain and distress to others because it goes against their views and practice(283ff.).35 (4) An individual’s success in a competitive examination, or the competitiveselection of candidates for a job, causes loss and pain to those who, as a consequence, arenot preferred (292–3). The injury caused in these and other cases may be perceptibleenough and may clearly affect assignable individuals. For example, selling or renting ahouse to a black family in a white neighbourhood may bring about a fall in the value ofadjacent properties, so that other house-owners suffer serious financial loss. Or theknowledge that the next-door neighbours are atheists may cause a religious person’sfeelings to be outraged to the extent of bringing on a serious illness. What would makethese injuries ‘merely contingent’ is not the fact that they are ‘non-perceptible’ nor thefact that they do not affect an assignable individual—for in these two cases we canspecify precisely those who suffer a clear injury—but the fact that the individualconcerned is not violating any specific public duty or any distinct obligation to the otherpersons concerned. No one, it might be said, is under an obligation not to sell or rent ahouse to a black family, or to be religious.It is along these lines that Mill responds to the kind of cases he mentions. With regardto (1) above, he points out that society has no right to exact any socially beneficialexercise of the talents and capacities which individual members of it may possess, so thatthe individual has no such corresponding duty (282).36 In connection with (4), he statesthat ‘society admits no right, either legal or moral, in the disappointed competitors toimmunity from this kind of suffering’, i.e. no one owes a duty to another to ensure thatsuch pain and loss does not occur (293). With regard to (3), the actions complained ofcause pain and distress to others only because they are believed to be wrong, so that theinjury in question would not exist independently of these beliefs.37 Mill takes this fact toimply that the so-called injured parties in such cases have no right to expect those, whoseconduct is found to be offensive to act differently.38 Mill’s notion of self-regardingconduct then depends on the existence and nature of the duties the individual owes eitherto society at large or to other persons. If an action is not a violation of such a duty then itis to be classified as self-regarding and any injury it causes to others taken to be merelycontingent.How should we determine the existence and nature of these duties which serve to markout self-regarding from other-regarding conduct? It is as a utilitarian that Mill claims toanswer this question. The ultimate appeal on all ethical questions should be to utility,provided that we take it to be ‘grounded on the permanent interests of man as aprogressive being’ (224). This qualification is explained in chapter 3 ofLibertywhereMill specifiesindividualityto be ‘one of the principal ingredients of human happiness’,‘one of the leading essentials of well-being’ (261). What he has centrally in mind whenhe speaks of ‘individuality’, in particular ‘the free development of individuality’ or‘individual spontaneity’, is the development of a certain kind of character or person. Thefavoured kind of person is one who does not do things just because it is customary orbecause it conforms to someone’s views. This does not mean that such a person ignoresgeneral preferences and other people’s views but only that this ‘recorded experience’when available is used and interpreted in the individual’s ‘own way’, in so far as it isdeemed to be ‘properly applicable to [the individual’s] own circumstances andcharacter’ (262). What Mill values here is the nature or character of the individual’schoice, of the reasons for which a course or policy of action or plan of life is chosen. Thedesirable kind of choice is that where the grounds on which it is made and justified arethe product of the individual’s own reasoning and judgement taking into account his orher own beliefs and desires, and not something derived mechanically from an externalsource ignoring ‘the opinions and feelings of home growth’ (264–5). Mill insists thatsuch a choice should be based on the individual’s ‘own impulses and desires’, which heidentifies in terms of the distinction drawn between a deliberately made person whosecharacter has been fashioned on the lines of a model hostile to natural endowment andone whose development has been allowed to occur ‘naturally’ within the unavoidableframework of a particular social and cultural environment.39 It is only the latter kind ofperson whose desires can be said to be their own, it is only of such individuals that wecan predicate true ‘individuality of desires and impulses’ and, accordingly, what wemight call autonomous or genuine choice (264).40Mill declares that it is only by making autonomous choices that one exercises anddevelops the essential human faculties of ‘perception, judgement, discriminative feeling,mental activity, and even moral preference’ (262), whereas those who fail to operateautonomously fail to make a choice in the proper sense of the word.41 If choosing nonautonomouslyis not to choose at all, then we can say that what Mill wants to secure isfreedom in a substantial or positive sense of the term—not simply freedom from externalinterference which allows the translation of prevailing desires into action but which alsoconsists in being moved by reasons which are, in the sense specified, one’s own and inrealizing one’s own purposes and goals.42If it is only the individually spontaneous person who is a human being in the full senseof the term—in that we have with such a person the development of distinctive humanendowments—then we can see what Mill means when he declares individuality to be oneof the principal ingredients of human happiness and, therefore, desirable in itself. In sofar as we aim to bring about happiness, we must find place in this final end for thehappiness of those who have developed their individuality. And if we measure happinessin terms of pleasure or the satisfaction of desires and preferences, then we can point outon Mill’s behalf that individually spontaneous persons will gain pleasure or satisfactionfrom the fact that they act and live in accordance with their true nature, i.e. in being whatthey are. In addition, Mill holds out other avenues of satisfaction available to autonomouspersons if they develop their capacities to the full—the satisfaction of having achieved adistinct wholeness of being which translates into the pattern of their lives.43The values placed on the development of individuality can be carried over to thepleasure or satisfaction associated with it. However, this does not mean that we candetach the pleasure or satisfaction from the exercise of individuality—it has value as partof happiness only because it is related to individual spontaneity. Mill’s qualified appeal tothe principle of utility on the basis of taking into account ‘the permanent interests of manas a progressive being’ amounts to assigning an independent intrinsic value to thedevelopment of individuality ([3.31], 73–5). Again, the modified view is not anaggregative doctrine ([3.31], 78–9). Neither the development of individuality nor theattendant satisfaction can be traded off against a greater degree of it in some other case oragainst a nett increase in the total amount.If individuality is recognized to be desirable in itself then each of us will have a right toits promotion provided that what we do does not prevent others from pursuing it.44Consequently, there will exist a general duty to refrain from acting in ways that preventothers from being individually spontaneous and, in this sense, to refrain from harming orhurting them. The boundaries of self-regarding conduct in specific situations will bemarked out on the basis of respecting the rights of others, and acknowledgingcorresponding duties, regarding the development of individuality.We also need to consider the other components of happiness in order to determinerights and duties, and by reference to these the boundaries of individual freedom. InUtilitarianismMill takes observance of the ‘rules of justice’, i.e. the moral rules whichfall under the category of justice, to be part of ‘the essentials of human well-being’ andthus as the grounds, in given situations, of specific duties to others.45 Examples of suchduties, whose violation constitutes harm done to others, and determines the conduct to beother-regarding, are the obligation to keep one’s promises or carry out the requirementsof a commitment that one has voluntarily entered into (10:242–3). It is on this basis thatinLibertyMill declares that a man may be legally coerced into providing education forhis children, and that it would not be a violation of liberty to legally forbid marriageunless the parties concerned can show that they have the means of supporting a family(300–4). In addition, there are duties which we owe to the society to which we belongand whose object is to ensure its continued viability—for example, to give evidence in acourt of law, to share in the common defence of the country, etc. (224–5). Ourobligations to the community and to others will need to be restricted to the minimumrequired for a viable society to exist in order to provide for a sufficiently large area ofself-regarding conduct and of individual freedom. But this will be secured by the greatintrinsic value placed on individual spontaneity.As a component element of happiness or well-being, individuality is regarded as agreater good than the other elements. Its higher value is justified on the grounds that it isa necessary condition of other components of happiness: ‘it is not only a co-ordinateelement with all that is designated by the terms civilization, instruction, education,culture, but is itself a necessary part and condition of all those things’.46 Withoutindividual spontaneity these other ends will lose their value—for what can be the worthof education and culture if those involved in their pursuit are incapable of thinking anddeciding for themselves? The classical utilitarian ends of pleasure and freedom from painwill also form part of happiness, and they may be partly accommodated under ‘theobligations of justice’ which provide security for the individual in various respects(10:251). Otherwise they are to be regarded as goods which are less valuable than theother components of happiness: paternalistic control may promote people’s welfare orkeep them out of harm’s way, but the comparative worth of such an undertaking will bemuch less than individuals determining their own affairs (263).Mill concedes that some, possibly many, may not want to lead an individuallyspontaneous life because they do not recognize its intrinsic value (261, 267). To these onecan point out that a society which permits and encourages the free development ofindividuality will benefit in that such a move will introduce ‘originality’ in its affairs. Thevalue of originality is said to consist in the discovery by ‘persons of genius’ of ‘newtruths’ and ‘new practices’ which may prove beneficial to others in the community. Inaddition, we may expect the free development of individuality to promote the existenceof ‘a succession of persons whose ever-recurring originality’, by insisting on anindependent and rational scrutiny of the grounds of generally accepted beliefs andpractices, will help to prevent merely mechanical and unthinking acceptance of these onthe part of the rest of society (267). Clearly, in the latter sense of ‘original’, the belief orpractice that is supported need not be novel, and all that is required is that its truth ordesirability is affirmed or defended independently by the individual.47 Mill admits thatgeniuses are likely to be few in number, so that it is originality in the sense ofindependence of thought that may be held out as being within the reach of the generalityof humankind and as a necessary feature of a free society. Far from advocating thecontrol of a community by an elite or ‘the strong man of genius’, it is originality in thesense of independence of thought that Mill emphasizes: ‘If a person possesses anytolerable amount of common sense and experience, his own mode of laying out hisexistence is the best, not because it is the best in itself, but because it is his ownmode’ (270).48PATERNALISMThe intrinsic value placed on individuality rules out, with exceptions, paternalism, i.e. theentitlement to coerce people for their own good, for example, prevent them from hurtingthemselves. One class of exceptions Mill stipulates is children and persons below thelegal age of adulthood as well as ‘those backward states of society in which the race itselfmay be considered as in its nonage’ (224). In the case of the latter, benevolent despotism,which seeks to improve the condition of the people, is justified until they have become‘capable of being improved by free and equal discussion…, of being guided to their ownimprovement by conviction or persuasion’ (224). It is very likely that Mill had in mindnot only ancient communities but also contemporary societies judged not to be developedenough for the application of libertarian principles. His view may be challenged on thegrounds that he is mistaken about the existence of such societies anywhere whosemembers are generally incapable of being moved by rational discussion and persuasion.But by convicting Mill of any such factual error we do not invalidate his case againstpaternalism.49The other kind of exception mentioned by Mill is that where we are justified in forciblypreventing people from injuring themselves because it is clear that they are not aware ofwhat they are doing—e.g. physically preventing someone from crossing an unsafe bridgewhen they are ignorant of its condition and there is no way of warning them (294).Ignorance of the particular circumstances of the action in such a case vitiates the decisionto perform it.50 But where there is no reason to doubt the voluntary character of theindividual’s choice then there is no basis for any kind of paternalistic interference,however undesirable or harmful the consequences of the action may be for the agentconcerned.51To abandon coercion in such cases is not to give up attempts to influence the individualto modify his conduct. We may, and in certain circumstances should, try to deflectsomeone from harming himself or herself by means of advice, persuasion or entreaty.And where self-regarding conduct exhibits folly or some other defect it may, according toMill, properly become the object of distaste and even of contempt on the part of others.Such adverse judgements of individuals’ self-regarding deficiencies may carry furtherpenalties in the form of avoidance of their society or cautioning others about them, etc.Such penalties are not to be seen as specially designed forms of punishment—they are thenatural outcome of the individual’s self-regarding faults in that the restrictions they bringare ‘strictly inseparable from the unfavourable judgement of others’. If we feel contemptregarding a person’s conduct then it is natural (to be logically expected) that, unless thereis some special reason for explanation, we will avoid the individual’s company. Millemphasizes the difference between adverse judgements of self-regarding faults and moraldenunciations of harmful other-regarding actions. In the latter case, the conduct isregarded as the proper object of ‘moral reprobation, and, in grave cases, of moralretribution and punishment’. Moreover, the penalties suffered in such cases are purposelyinflicted in order to punish the individual. Self-regarding faults ‘are not properlyimmoralities, and…do not constitute wickedness’. What they reveal is folly, imprudenceand absence of self-respect and, as such, deserve ‘lack of consideration’ but not‘reprobation’; consequently, they do not call for any kind of coercive interference in theindividual’s affairs (278–80).52Referring to Mill’s views on paternalism, H.L.A.Hart states that hecarried his protests…to lengths that may now appear to us as fantastic. He citesthe example of restrictions of the sale of drugs, and criticizes them asinterferences with the liberty of the would-be purchaser rather than with that ofthe seller. No doubt if we no longer sympathise with this criticism this is due, inpart, to a general decline in the belief that individuals know their own interestsbest, and to an increased awareness of a great range of factors which diminishthe significance to be attached to an apparently free choice or to consent.Choices may be made or consent given without adequate reflection orappreciation of the consequences; or in pursuit of merely transitory desires; orin various predicaments when the judgement is likely to be clouded; or underinner psychological compulsion; or under pressure by others of a kind too subtleto be susceptible in a law court. Underlying Mill’s extreme fear of paternalismthere perhaps is a conception of what a normal human being is like which nowseems not to correspond to the facts. Mill, in fact, endows him with too much ofthe psychology of a middle-aged man whose desires are relatively fixed, notliable to be artificially stimulated by external influences; who knows what hewants and what gives him satisfaction or happiness; and who pursues thesethings when he can.53Part of this criticism, in so far as it depends on the defective character of the individual’schoice, will fall under the exceptions Mill cites to his rejection of paternalisticinterference. And where the impairment of the individual’s choice is due to the activitiesof others (for example the use of various kinds of subtle pressure), the coerciveinterference, even if not provable in a court of law, will still invoke the self-protectionprinciple. If the impairment of individual choice is said to be substantial, then, besidesenlarging the area of paternalistic direction, we will need to bring about other moreradical institutional changes, e.g. exclude at least the ordinary person from serving onjuries or electing a legislature etc. If we are not prepared to support such moves then, tothat extent, we cannot support Hart’s general doubts regarding the authenticity ofindividual choice.The other common objection to Mill’s rejection of paternalism, which Hart alsomentions, is that it is doubtful that individuals know their own interests best. However, itis not Mill’s contention that individuals can always or mostly be relied on to know wheretheir real good lies but only that others are unlikely to do so. This is because estimates ofthe individual’s interests made by others are arrived at from the outside, so to speak, andthey fail to capture the intimate view which the person actually affected by the situationnormally has. In contrast, the individual’s own assessments of what constitutes his or hergood are more reliable because ‘with respect to his own feelings and circumstances, themost ordinary man or woman has means of knowledge immeasurably surpassing thosethat can be possessed by any one else’ (277). Whereas the individual’s knowledge isbased on immediate acquaintance with what happens to and around, those who seek todirect his or her life from the outside can proceed only on the basis of ‘generalpresumptions…which may be altogether wrong, and even if right, are as likely as not tobe misapplied to individual cases’ (277).54William James, discussing the special case of appreciating the way of life of those whoare significantly different from us, distinguishes (as Mill does) between how thingsappear from the external standpoint and the assessments made from the point of view ofthe individual concerned: ‘The spectator’s judgement is sure to miss the root of thematter, and to possess no truth. The subject judged knows a part of the world of realitywhich the judging spectator fails to see, knows more while the spectator knows less’. InJames’s view, the greater the difference in lifestyles between ‘the judging spectator’ and‘the subject judged’, the greater the chances of the former’s judgement being distorted([3.16], 1–2). Mill (and also James) sometimes talks as if it was impossible for anyone tosee and estimate things accurately enough on behalf of another person. But it is notnecessary, even if it is possible, to hold this extreme view. We may concede that theremay be occasions where one may understand and follow the ‘mechanisms of the mind’ ofsome people well enough. But we may still be justified in doubting that this happens, oris likely to happen, often or normally or typically. That should provide sufficient groundsto challenge the reasonableness of a policy which seeks, in the likely absence of relevantknowledge, to manage the lives of people in order to promote their real good.Mill’s objections to paternalism gain support from the additional fact that the inabilityto see and assess matters from the standpoint of the individual whose interests are to bepromoted may lead, possibly unwittingly, to the imposition of values held by thoseengaged in carrying out the undertaking. Paternalism then will collapse into an attempt tobring about conformity with values held by others and the good sought on behalf of theindividual misidentified in terms of a set of alien norms.55 But, apart from all theseconsiderations, we cannot expect external control and direction normally to promote theindividual’s interests because it is a central part of the individual’s good that he or sheshould be free from any such direction. As Mill points out, ‘All errors which he is likelyto commit against advice and warning are far outweighed by the evil of allowing othersto constrain him to what they deem is his good’ (277). If the removal of tutelage and theexercise of individuality is the most essential part of a person’s well-being then how canpaternalism, which consists in imposing tutelage, contribute to it?UTILITARIANISMIn one of his earlier letters to Carlyle, Mill states that he is ‘still, and likely to remain autilitarian—but having scarcely any secondary premisses in common with those pickedout as Utilitarians; and a utilitarian in a sense which no one else would regard asone’ (12:207–8). Originally intended to deflect Carlyle’s hostility to utility as thefoundation of morals, the statement indicates well enough the final direction of histhought. There is a sense in which Mill never gave up utilitarianism but his views, in spiteof his efforts to hold on to their original character, would not have been acknowledged bythose professing the Benthamite and hedonistic version of the doctrine. InLiberty,themodified account of utilitarianism that Mill appeals to consists in specifying individualspontaneity to be both desirable in itself and a greater good than the other elements ofhappiness.Utilitarianism,which is meant to be both a defence of utilitarian doctrine andalso an account of his own ethical theory, re-affirms this conception of happiness ascomprising a plurality of ends some of which are more valuable than others. The‘utilitarian formula’ is said to be ‘a comprehensive formula, including all things whichare in themselves good’ (10:208) and happiness is characterized as ‘a concrete whole’whose constituents or ‘parts’ are such things as health, virtue etc. (10:236). And althoughMill declares that ‘the theory of life’ on which his moral views are founded is still theorthodox belief that ‘pleasure and freedom from pain are the only things desirable asends’ (10:210), his further characterization of the ideas of pleasure and pain as well as therole he assigns to this central belief in our moral thinking leaves little room for theoriginal hedonistic character of the doctrine.Two kinds of pleasure are distinguished—that associated with the exercise of ourhigher faculties and the one involved in the operation of our bodily nature and thesatisfaction of the animal appetites. The ‘pleasures of the intellect, of the feelings andimagination, and of the moral sentiments’—of the capacities specified inLibertyas thedistinctive endowments of a human being—are declared to have ‘a much higher value, aspleasures than…those of mere sensation’ (10:211). Since the difference between the twois qualitative, the higher kind of pleasure is said to be more desirable than any amount ofthe lesser variety (10:211). Mill leaves the difference in quality between the two kinds ofpleasure to be indicated by the expressed preference (in judgement and action) of thosewho have had actual experience of both. No further description is given, or evenconsidered to be possible, of the qualities which are supposed to distinguish the two kinds(10:213). This is understandable in that whether we take ‘pleasure’ to stand for apsychological state or experience, or construe it in terms of enjoyment or of thesatisfaction of desires, no reasonable candidate for any such distinguishing quality isavailable. Quantitative differences may be readily specified: the pleasure or enjoyment orgratification that attends the operation of the higher faculties may be deeper or longerlasting or superior in terms of fecundity and, on this basis, one may prefer to engage inintellectual pursuits as against the satisfaction of bodily appetites. But what other, nonquantitative,considerations can one mention here except the character of the goalspursued and activities engaged in? And it is on this basis that Mill himself promotes thedistinction: the one kind of pleasure is superior to the other because the activities andpursuits it is associated with are more valuable. He speaks of opting for the higher kind ofpleasure as equivalent to preferring ‘the manner of existence which employs [the] higherfaculties’ (10:211). And he remarks on our general unwillingness ‘to sink into…a lowergrade of existence’ because it offends ‘the sense of dignity which all human beingspossess in…proportion to their higher faculties… It is better to be a human beingdissatisfied than a pig satisfied; better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a foolsatisfied’ (10:212).If a human life, in spite of its many dissatisfactions,56 is to be preferred to thecontented life of a pig, then what makes it more valuable is its character, the kind of life itis. Mill, however, also wants to maintain that such a life, in spite of the imperfections anddisappointments it is likely to contain, will still be productive of pleasure in that humanbeings will want to pursue it and desiring something is necessarily to find it to bepleasant.57 In order, then, to hold on to hedonism, he falls back on a version of thedoctrine according to which the pursuit of pleasure as an end turns out to be the pursuit ofanything that we may desire as such. Moreover, Mill allows that we may intentionallyaim at ends other than pleasure and even persist in such conduct when it is productive ofpain—but in such cases it is still true that the conduct in question was originally (‘in thebeginning’) followed because it was a source of pleasure or served to avert pain.58Finally, what is valued as a means to happiness (because it is externally productive ofpleasure or instrumental in the satisfaction of desires) may, we are told, becomepartof itand valued for itself (for the pleasure directly associated with it).59 It is in this way thatwealth, power, fame and virtue can become parts or constituent elements of happiness.The unrestricted pursuit of some of these ends, such as power or wealth, may have anegative effect on the general welfare, but there need be no limit placed, in this regard, onthe disinterested pursuit of virtue: ‘Utilitarianism…could only obtain its end by thegeneral cultivation of nobleness of character’ (10:213–14), hence ‘the utilitarianstandard…enjoys and requires the cultivation of the love of virtue up to the greateststrength possible, as being above all things important to the general happiness’ (10:237).Mill remains a utilitarian to the extent that his moral theory appeals toconsequencesasthe test of right and wrong. In this he sees himself to be following Bentham and the otherclassical utilitarians in holding that a necessary condition of an acceptable morality is thatit appeals to an ‘external standard’ and is not based simply on ‘internal convictions’ orfeelings (10:111, 179). But the consequences that Mill specifies are not restricted topleasure and the avoidance of pain in the ordinary sense of these terms. He includes otheritems in his conception of happiness as the ultimate end. And he tries to preserve thehedonistic character of these items, such as the cultivation of virtue, by (1) postulating anecessary connection between desiring something and getting pleasure from it; and (2)appealing to the empirical hypothesis that it is only by way of an original means-endrelationship to pleasure that any other element of happiness comes to be valued in itself.But the first move is dubious unless we dilute ‘pleasure’ to mean no more than beingpleased to do what one intentionally does or wants to do. And the second is equallydoubtful as an account of why we come to value such things as virtue. We may getpleasure from being virtuous and perhaps, as Aristotle states, if we are truly virtuous thenwe must ‘delight’ in being so (Nicomachean Ethics1104b 4–8), but this does not meanthat we initially or otherwise come to value virtue for the pleasure it brings. Mill takes themain difference between his version of utilitarianism and the original Benthamitedoctrine to lie in the ‘secondary premisses’ which his own view supports and highlights.He tries to play down the difference by claiming a hedonistic foundation for thesesecondary rules along the lines mentioned above. Consequently, if we reject this attemptto re-introduce hedonism then some of the secondary premisses will effectively governinterests or pick out ends other than pleasure and the avoidance of pain, such as the freedevelopment of individuality, the exercise and fulfilment of the higher human capacities,the cultivation of virtuous dispositions, etc.The different items in Mill’s conception of happiness will need to be ranked and heseems to provide for this partly by way of the distinction between higher and lower kindsof pleasure, so that those elements associated with the higher kind of pleasure may besaid to be more valuable. And partly the ranking is made to depend on the extent to whichan element of happiness, though valuable in itself, is also valued as a necessary ingredientof other component ends—for example the free development of individuality is valuablenot only in itself but also as a necessary feature of significant achievement in educationand the promotion of culture (261).60 On this basis, ‘the standard of morality’ will ensurethe ‘happiness’ (i.e. serve and advance the interests) of human beings as creaturesessentially endowed with the higher faculties and capable of freely developing theirindividuality. This in effect is the criterion characterized by Mill inLibertyas the appealto ‘utility grounded on the permanent interests of man as a progressive being’.InUtilitarianismMill gives a proof of the principle of utility which has achievednotoriety because of the fallacies it is supposed to involve. The first part of the proofwhere these fallacies are located runs:[T]he only proof capable of being given that an object is visible, is that peopleactually see it. The only proof that a sound is audible, is that people hear it… Inlike manner…the sole evidence it is possible to produce that anything isdesirable, is that people do actually desire it. If the end which the utilitariandoctrine proposes to itself were not, in theory and practice, acknowledged to bean end, nothing could ever convince any person that it was so. No reason can begiven why the general happiness is desirable, except that each person…desireshis own happiness. This, however, being a fact, we have not only all the proofwhich the case admits of, but all which it is possible to require, that, happinessis a good: that each person’s happiness is a good to that person, and the generalhappiness, therefore, a good to the aggregate of all persons. Happiness has madeout its title asoneof the ends of conduct and consequently one of the criteria ofmorality.(10:234)The inference from something being seen to its being visible is justified because it is partof the meaning of ‘visible’ that the thing in question is capable of being seen. But no suchconceptual rule links ‘desired’ with ‘desirable’, hence what is actually desired may not bedesirable (or worthy of being desired) at all. If it is Mill’s purpose to base his case forutilitarianism on a strict analogy between ‘visible’ and ‘desirable’, then clearly he isguilty of arguing fallaciously. But it is open to us to take the offending statements in theproof to be no more than a bad rhetorical flourish. In the introductory chapter ofUtilitarianism,Mill declares that ultimate moral principles cannot be justified by meansof strictly deductive reasoning: ‘Questions of ultimate ends are not amenable to directproof, consequently the utilitarian theory cannot be the ‘subject of what is commonlyunderstood by proof (10:207–8). But such issues still fall within the scope of rationalinquiry in that ‘Considerations may be presented capable of determining the intellecteither to give or withhold its assent…and this is equivalent to proof—so that we are toconsider whether and ‘what rational grounds…can be given for accepting or rejecting theutilitarian formula’ (10:208). We can then ignore the unjustified analogy and take Mill’spoint to be that a central reason for regarding happiness as desirable is the fact that it isgenerally desired.61 We must take happiness in this connection as comprising theconstituent elements Mill assigns to it and its more or less general pursuit to be theproduct of experience and reflection.62The further inference from each person’s happiness being a good to that person to thegeneral happiness being a good to the aggregate of all persons should also be interpretedin the light of Mill’s reservations here about strict deductive proofs. What we mustconsider is whether there are good reasons in favour of the principle of utility, andalthough Mill does not canvass these reasons in the context of his proof we can specifythem as they are mentioned elsewhere in his account. The consideration that seems to bemost central is discussed in the chapter preceding the statement of the proof: Millmaintains that we naturally see ourselves as social beings,63 so that whatever is thought tobe necessary for the continued existence of the society to which we belong comes to beregarded as essential to human (including our own individual) existence. The movementof history is towards a state of human society where more and more people regardthemselves as equal. And since social relations between equals can survive only if theinterests of all concerned are considered equally, individuals in these circumstances cometo recognize the interests of others as their own: ‘The [individual] comes, as thoughinstinctively, to be conscious of himself as a being whoof coursepays regard to others.The good of others becomes to him a thing naturally and necessarily to be attended to,like any of the physical conditions of our existence’ (10:232). In this way the good ofothers forms part of the individual’s own good and the greatest good or happiness ofothers part of the individual’s greatest happiness.64 An additional consideration that Millseems to rely on is that ethical doctrines opposed to utilitarianism not only acknowledgethe duty to pursue the general good but also assign to it a pronounced importance(10:230).65 These opposing moralities differ from utilitarianism in that they also supportthe pursuit of other ends besides happiness and the second part of the proof is designed toshow that they are mistaken in this regard as happiness (in the form of promotion ofpleasure and avoidance of pain) is the only end desired.But, as we have seen, Mill reaches this conclusion on the basis of doubtful moves, sothat we are left with an unreduced plurality of ends—both with regard to the opposingmoralities and with regard to his own doctrine. We may, of course, group these differentends under ‘happiness’ as an inclusive ultimate end. One of the elements of this inclusiveend will be the general well-being or the good of the society or collective to which theindividual belongs. And although the general good is conceived to be the sum of the goodof individuals,66 it will function as just one of a plurality of ends and not as the overridinggoal of orthodox utilitarianism.67REPRESENTATIVE GOVERNMENT AND THE SUBJECTION OF WOMENMuch of the discussion inRepresentative Governmentis about practical proposalsregarding the mode of operation of a parliamentary government, particularly the methodof electing members of parliament.68 The theoretical issues considered relate to the valueof parliamentary democracy and take up Mill’s concerns regarding the dangers inherentin government by the majority.69 Mill gives two main reasons why parliamentarydemocracy based on universal suffrage is to be preferred to other forms of government.Firstly, it enables every member of society to assert and defend their own rights andinterests and, consequently, prevent them from being disregarded.70 And, secondly, ademocratic society, by giving citizens a voice in its affairs and letting them take part inthe business of government, promotes those qualities of mind and character which makefor excellence in intellectual, practical and moral capacity (19:407). The outcome of thisprocess of education is the development in such a society of active and energeticindividuals with a real desire to pursue the public good and the capacity to do so (19:408–12). The idea of individual development canvassed here is the same as that supported inLibertyandUtilitarianism;71 hence we may take Mill’s defence of representativedemocracy to appeal to the same conception of utility as that proposed in these works.As regards the danger inherent in a parliamentary democracy based on universal (orfairly extensive) suffrage, Mill holds the greatest to be that of ‘class legislation: ofgovernment intended for…the immediate benefit of the dominant class’ made up of thenumerical majority (19:446). This is the threat posed by ‘the tyranny of the majority’which Bentham and the other utilitarians had ignored and which de Tocqueville hademphasized. The other defect of representative government based on majority support isthe likelihood of ‘general ignorance and incapacity,…insufficient mental qualifications’in those who make up the legislative body (19:436). Mill thinks that both thesedeficiencies can be overcome by the adoption of an electoral system such as the oneproposed by Thomas Hare involving the representation of minorities in proportion totheir size. This would allow minority points of view to be represented in the deliberationsof parliament and thus prevent minority interests from being disregarded (19:449). Thescheme would also allow people of merit and independent views to be elected, thusraising the intellectual level of the assembly and serving to counter the tendency of alluniversal democracies towards ‘collective mediocrity’ (19:456–7). Mill is so concernedabout the ignorance and stupidity of the electors rubbing off on those they elect, and thuslowering the intellectual standard of parliament, that he proposes minimum educationalqualification for all voters.72 And he also recommends, if it is possible to overcomepractical difficulties, additional votes given to those who are intellectually qualified ormore intelligent (19:476–9).The presence in parliament of people representing points of view different from that ofthe majority, and of people who are intellectually superior, will provide a public centre ofopposition and dissent where, whenever necessary, majority opinion may be challengedand minority views defended. Parliament so constituted will then perform an importantsocial function (‘the function of Antagonism’) without which the community living underthe unchallenged influence of the majority is likely to stagnate or decline (19:458–9). It isnot too implausible to trace a connection withLibertyhere: just as beliefs in the absenceof criticism are supposed to turn into dead dogmas, so too are societies existing under thedirection of unchallenged power fated to end in stagnation and decay. Conflict andcollision are the foundation both of truth and social progress.The Subjection of Womenis designed to show that the social and legal disabilitiessuffered by women (for instance in nineteenth-century England) are unjustified and thatthe relations between the two sexes should be governed by a ‘principle of perfectequality, admitting no power or privilege on the one side, nor disability on theother’ (21:261). Pointing out that he has held this view from his earliest days, Millconcedes the difficulty involved in the enterprise—not because of ‘the insufficiency orobscurity of the ground of reason on which [the] conviction rests’ but because thecontrary beliefs are embedded in ‘a mass of feeling’ against which rational argument isineffectual (21:261).73 Consequently, much of what he has to say against thesubordination of women takes on the character of tracing these ‘feelings’ to their sourceor revealing their influence when they are dressed up as ‘reason’. Mill does recognizethat the disabilities suffered by women, particularly their disenfranchisement andexclusion from the political process, their status in the marriage contract and relation(‘the assimilation of the wife to the slave’ (21:286)) and the denial of entry to theprofessions and educational institutions, are unjustified in terms of the principles assertedinLibertyandRepresentative Government. Thus, he invokes the doctrine ofLibertywhenhe declares that refusing women entry into the professions and various occupations fortheir own good constitutes denying them ‘the equal moral right of all human beings tochoose their occupation (short of injury to others) according to their own preferences, attheir own risk’ (21:300). And he argues that given the value of ‘personal independence asan element of happiness’, the subordination of women, in so far as it denies themfreedom as individuals, contributes to their (and to the general) unhappiness (21:336–40).74 Again, he justifies giving women the right to vote because it is ‘a means of selfprotectiondue to every one’ (21:301), appealing to what for him is an essential feature ofrepresentative democracy.75However, the greater part of the discussion consists of an examination of variousarguments purporting to defend the subordinate status of women. Many of thesearguments are manifestly weak76 but Mill still takes them seriously and considers them atlength, possibly because he wants to reveal the underlying irrational basis in ‘feeling’and, perhaps, also because ‘such things do affect people’s minds’ (21:303).77 Referring tothe general practice of distinguishing the sexes in terms of their different‘natural’capacities and inclinations—so that women’s disabilities (and male privileges) are seen tobe natural and attempts to remove them unnatural—Mill points out that what is taken tobe natural in this case can easily be shown to be the product of historical and socialcircumstances: ‘What is now called the nature of woman is an eminently artificialthing—the result of forced repression in some directions, unnatural stimulation in others’,the product of ‘a hot-house and stove cultivation…for the benefit and pleasure of theirmasters’ (21:276).78Mill’s account is particularly significant in that he tries to show how women becomethe product of the system which oppresses them, so that they may appear to justify thediscrimination and may even need to be convinced of their oppression.79 Hispsychological insights in this regard and in his characterization of the effects of the legaland social subordination of women on the male psyche have been singled out for praise.80And in general his views, and sometimes even the language in which he presents them,are well ahead of his times and more appropriate to our contemporary scene.81 But it isthe classic doctrine ofLibertythat gives shape to most of the views expressed in the otherworks, so that we can see them as part of a conception of human affairs centred on thesupreme value of individual freedom and autonomy.NOTESAll references to Mill’s writings unless otherwise indicated are toThe Collected Works ofJohn Stuart Millcited by volume and page. References toOn Libertyin volume 18 are bypage number only.1 ‘(with the possible exception of the Logic)’ (1:259) But the parenthetical qualification has notbeen borne out by time. Liberty has continued to be the subject of discussion and controversyas much (if not more) in our times as in the years immediately following its publication. Inthe last two or three decades alone there have been, in English, nearly thirty studies of it andof Mill’s views on ethics and politics. There is nothing comparable to this with regard to theLogic.2 In the Autobiography Mill states that Liberty was revised many times (jointly by his wifeHarriet and himself)—‘there was not a sentence of it that was not several times gone throughby us together, turned over in many ways, and carefully weeded of any faults, either inthought and expression, that we detected in it’ (1:258–9). This fact seems to have escaped thenotice of many of his critics, particularly those who claim to have found the most obviousinconsistencies and defects in his argument. A close reading of the text much more often thannot reveals Mill’s awareness of these objections and a sufficient response to them.3 Mill often talks as if the greater threat to individual liberty exists in the coercion exercisedthrough the medium of public opinion than in the form of legal or government interference.However, this is not meant to be taken as anything more than a contingent fact regardingEnglish political life: ‘The majority have not yet learnt to feel that power of the governmenttheir power, or its opinions their opinions. When they do so, individual liberty will probablybe as much exposed to invasion from the government, as it already is from publicopinion’ (223).4 According to Mill, a major defect of Bentham’s political philosophy is that ‘not content withenthroning the majority as sovereign, by means of universal suffrage without king or houseof lords, he exhausted all the resources of ingenuity in devising means for riveting the yokeof public opinion closer and closer round the necks of all public functionaries, and excludingevery possibility of the exercise of the slightest or most temporary influence either by aminority, or by the functionary’s own notions of right.’ Conceding that it is best (because lessunjust than any other arrangement) that power should be vested in the majority, Millproposed as a corrective institutional provisions (left unspecified) for the protection of‘freedom of thought and individuality of character, a perpetual and standing opposition to thewill of the majority’ (10:106–8).5 ‘De Tocqueville on Democracy in America’ I (1835) and II (1840) (CW, vol. 18). In theAutobiography Mill acknowledges his debt to de Tocqueville’s ‘masterly analysis [of] thespecific dangers which beset Democracy considered as the government of the numericalmajority’.6 Mill accepts de Tocqueville’s contention that the civilized world shows clear signs of aninevitable progress to democracy.7 Mill speaks only of ‘self-regarding’ conduct etc. (226 and 276ff.); the expression ‘otherregarding’has been supplied by commentators.8 Stephen [3.30], 28. Fitzjames Stephen originally saw himself as Mill’s disciple. And it was asa classical or Benthamite utilitarian, determined to rescue Mill from his hereticalabandonment of the doctrine, that he attacked the views expressed in Liberty ([3.30], 2, 11–12). Mill’s comment that he ‘does not know what he is arguing against’ is, in general, not anunjust assessment of Stephen’s passionate but often misguided critique ([3.2], in).9 An example of a friendly or liberal critic of Mill on this point is H.L.A.Hart who holds that‘Mill carried his protests against paternalism to lengths that may now appear to us asfantastic’, hence ‘a modification in Mill’s principle is required’ ([3.11], 32–3). At the otherextreme, we have Fitzjames Stephen in whose view the ignorant and stupid, who will alwaysexist in number in any society, clearly ought to be coerced into pursuing their own good([3.30], 65ff.). Carlyle held similar beliefs: ‘The immense mass of men he believed to bepoor creatures, poor in heart and poor in intellect, incapable of making any progress at all ifleft to their own devices… Every advance which humanity had made was due to specialindividuals supremely gifted in mind and character. It was not true…that men were equal.They were infinitely unequal…in intelligence, and still more…in moral purpose. So far frombeing able to guide or govern themselves, their one chance of improvement lay in theirsubmitting to their natural superiors, either by their free-will or else by compulsion’ (Froude[3.6], 386–7).10 For example Isaiah Berlin in ‘John Stuart Mill and the Ends of Life’ declares that Mill’sversion of utilitarianism stretches the meaning of utility or happiness ‘to the point ofvacuity’ ([3.4], 181).11 Compare Ten [3.31], [3.32], Gray [3.7], Berger [3.3], Donner [3.5], etc.12 Mill distinguishes between the formation of beliefs or opinions and the expression of beliefsor opinions. We may then take the reference to absolute freedom of opinion to apply to theformer, which would make the freedom to express opinions nearly but not entirely absolute.This would allow restrictions on freedom of speech mentioned or implied by Mill in thesubsequent discussion. On the other hand, it seems reasonable to hold that in Liberty Mill hadin mind only opinions having to do with the range of subjects he specifically mentions—‘practical or speculative, scientific, moral, or theological’. If we take ‘practical’ to coversocial, political and general human affairs, then the specified range of topics will rule outpersonal and private matters. Although he did not explicitly canvass it in Liberty, Mill didhave a notion of privacy in so far as he held that there was no general right on the part ofothers to enquire into the personal aspects of an individual’s life and affairs. During theperiod of his election to Parliament in 1865, he refused to give any information regarding hisreligious beliefs on the grounds that ‘no one has any right to question another on his religiousopinions’ (Later Letters, CW, vol. 16, no. 834; also cf. no. 1324 and the Autobiography,1:274). In 1834, in response to Daniel O’Connell’s proposal in his bill regarding freedom ofthe press that truth should be a justification, Mill declared that ‘there are insuperableobjections to allowing the details of a person’s private conduct’ to be aired in public and, in alibel action, made the subject of judicial investigation in order to determine its truth (6:166–7; cf. Earlier Letters, CW vol. 12, no. 99). The fact that Mill’s discussion of the right to freespeech in Liberty makes no mention of the laws of libel also indicates the exclusion of anarea of privacy from the scope of this right.In Liberty, Mill holds that ‘opinions lose their immunity, when the circumstances in whichthey are expressed are such as to constitute their expression a positive instigation to amischievous act’, for example denouncing corn-dealers as oppressors of the poor to anexcited mob before a corn-dealer’s house (260). Clearly the exclusion here is only nominal inthat the case specified is such that the so-called expression of opinion really constitutes anaction designed to incite or get others to hurt someone, like throwing the first stone (cf. Ten[3.31], 131ff. and Monro [3.21], 239–40). In ‘Law of Libel and Liberty of the Press’, one ofhis earlier publications in the Westminster Review, Mill quotes a passage from Montesquieu’sDe l’Espirit des Lois which specifically refers to cases where words, or what is said, byparticipating in an action take on the character of an action (21:5).13 Mill divides his case into three parts: where the suppressed opinion is true (and the protectedopinion false), where it is false (and the protected opinion true) and where the truth is sharedbetween the conflicting opinions; and he cites different objections to censorship under thisdivision. However, what I have called his central argument clearly covers all these cases andgoverns in each case the assignment of truth-values to both the protected and the suppressedbeliefs.14 According to C.L.Ten, the assumption of infallibility argument is ambiguous in that Millsometimes uses it to affirm the necessity of freedom of expression for the actual discovery oftrue beliefs and sometimes as a condition of rational beliefs ([3.31], 124–6). Perhaps one cansay, in Mill’s defence, that if there is an ambiguity here it is not significant since, for him, itis only on the basis of the principle of the rationality of beliefs that truth-values are to beassigned in particular cases.15 Bain points out that Mill’s view on freedom of discussion ‘works round a central idea…namely, the necessity of taking account of the negative to every positive affirmation; oflaying down, side by side with every proposition, the counter-proposition’ ([3.2], 104).16 Although Mill generally speaks in terms of the truth or falsity of beliefs and opinions, hiscentral argument applies even in those cases where we may use other (cognate) notions suchas ‘justified’/‘unjustified’, ‘reasonable’/‘unreasonable’ etc.17 This brings to mind Sir Karl Popper’s views concerning the character of scientific theories,according to which tests of such theories are to be regarded as attempts to refute them; and asuccessful test (where such an attempt fails) can only temporarily support the theory sincefuture tests may produce a negative result ([3.25], chapters 1 and 10). It is interesting to findthe arch-inductivist invoking elements of the hypothetico-deductive account of knowledge.Still it should be noted that the strength of Mill’s defence of freedom of expression is that itpresents more or less the same line of thought as what many would regard as an illuminatingand fruitful view of the structure of scientific inquiry (cf. Ryan [3.27], 136ff.).18 Berlin holds that Mill’s account follows from his general empiricist outlook: ‘he believed thatno truths are—or could be—rationally established except on the evidence of observation.New observations could in principle always upset a conclusion founded on earlierones’ ([3.4], 187).19 Berlin takes Mill as no more than contemptuously dismissing his opponents here ([3.4], 187).It seems to me that it is more reasonable to take the discussion on pp. 230–43 of Liberty aspartly constituting an attempted rebuttal of absolutism on these lines. Mill uses historicalexamples to support his case.20 [3.30], 76. Other commentators were less discerning. John Morley in an article in TheFortnightly Review of August 1873 takes the argument to make the same point as Milton inAreopagitica ([3.22], III). But Milton’s point is very different from Mill’s. Milton’scontention is that if censorship is justified on the grounds of protecting people from ‘Viceand Error’, then how can those who do the censoring avoid these calamities unless it isassumed that they are proof against deception and corruption: ‘how shall the licensersthemselves be confided in, unless we can confer upon them, or they assume above all othersin the land, the grace of infallibility and uncorruptedness?’ ([3.20], 73). Anothermisinterpretation is that by John Plamenatz who takes Mill’s point to be that those engaged inthe business of censorship actually come to believe that they are infallible. He thinks Mill iswrong about this: ‘It may be true that men who often silence discussion come, in the end, tobelieve that they are always right… But this is not nearly enough to establish Mill’s point. Itdoes not prove that those who exercise the power only occasionally and under the guidanceof a powerful tradition make any such assumption’ ([3.24], 127).21 What Mill had in mind was the prevailing and popular view regarding the social utility ofreligion. In the Autobiography he refers to the ‘examination not of the truth, but of theusefulness of religious belief…which, of all the parts of the discussion concerning religion, isthe most important in this age, in which real belief in any religious doctrine is feeble andprecarious, but the opinion of its necessity for moral and social purposes almostuniversal’ (1:73).22 Mill’s argument, which is not stated too clearly, is to be found on pp. 233–4 of Liberty.23 I take Mill’s statement ‘it is not the feeling sure of a doctrine…which I call an assumption ofinfallibility. It is the undertaking to decide that question for others without allowing them tohear what can be said on the contrary side’ (234) to have this contextual relevance.24 Or we may take Mill’s argument here as addressed to those who do not accept the proposedprinciple of rationality.25 The proposal is to be taken seriously in that we can envisage such cases in terms of Mill’snon-absolutist conception of truth, namely where beliefs, though open to scrutiny, are not asa matter of fact challenged or discussed.26 ‘The words which convey it cease to suggest ideas, or suggest only a small portion of thosethey were originally employed to communicate’ (249). This is the same notion as Locke’s‘bare sounds’ without any ideas or mental significata annexed to them (Essay ConcerningHuman Understanding, III. 10.26 etc.). The absence of the corresponding ideas is supposedto exclude the so-called belief from the causal or associative mental chains leading to theadoption of attitudes and to action.27 Mill’s view is that it is only by defending the belief and criticizing opposing beliefs that onereally grasps its content and meaning.28 Because its grounds involve the refutation of other opposing beliefs from which it isprotected (244–5).29 Mill is quite vague here: ‘Instead of a vivid conception and a living belief, there only remaina few phrases retained by rote; or, if any part, the shell and husk only of the meaning isretained, the finer essence being lost’ (247).30 I am not implying that such a belief is true. Mill’s contention that absence of criticism turns abelief into a ‘dead dogma’ will apply also to the adoption of beliefs which are false.31 Mill makes it quite clear that it is not only for an elite that he advocates freedom ofdiscussion: ‘There have been, and may again be, great individual thinkers in a generalatmosphere of mental slavery. But there never have been, nor ever will be, in thatatmosphere, an intellectually active people’ (243).32 The normative character of the criterion is brought out by the fact that consent on the part ofthe affected parties is meant to ensure the self-regarding nature of the relevant actions.33 Mill is here primarily concerned about the liability of ‘personal errors’ such as intemperanceor extravagance to legal and moral penalties. However, the discussion naturally leads him tospecify the criteria of self-regarding and other-regarding conduct.34 The example is not Mill’s. A parallel case he mentions is where someone by damaging hisown property supposedly ‘diminishes…the general resources of the community’ (280).35 Mill’s examples refer to the prohibition on the eating of pork in a Muslim society and ofProtestant forms of worship in a Catholic country. Mill does discuss Sabbatarian legislationand restrictions but not in relation to contingent injury.36 (2) calls for a similar response. But Mill does not adopt it because he takes the view thatwhere individuals directly harm themselves by some form of self-indulgence, the example islikely to make others avoid that kind of conduct because ‘it displays…the painful ordegrading consequences…attendant on it’ (283).37 For a fuller discussion of this feature of self-regarding conduct see Wollheim [3.35] and Ten[3.31], 19ff. Honderich argues that there is no basis for assigning this idea to Liberty.38 ‘There are many who consider as an injury to themselves any conduct which they have adistaste for, and resent it as an outrage to their feelings; as a religious bigot, when chargedwith disregarding the feelings of others, has been known to retort that they disregarded hisfeelings, by persisting in their abominable worship or creed. But there is no parity betweenthe feeling of a person for his own opinion, and the feeling of another who is offended at hisholding it; no more than between the desire of a thief to take a purse, and the desire of theright owner to keep it’ (283). Ten [3.31] takes this passage to refer to the idea of moralitydependentharm. Honderich [3.14] finds only the last sentence to give off no more than a ringin support of Ten. I draw attention to the passage also because of the implicit reference torights and duties.39 Compare ‘Human nature is not a machine to be built after a model, and set to do exactly thework prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and develop itself on all sides,according to the tendency of the inward forces which make it a living thing’ (263). And: ‘Aperson whose desires and impulses are his own—are the expression of his own nature, as ithas been developed and modified by his own culture—is said to have a character. One whosedesires and impulses are not his own, has no character; no more than a steam-engine has acharacter’ (264). Also compare Mill’s critique of the Calvinistic ‘conception of humanity’which takes its nature to be bestowed on it for no other purpose than ‘merely to beabnegated’ (265–6). Gertrude Himmelfarb points out that Mill assumed that a larger amountof ‘the raw material of human nature’ meant that though there was a greater potential for evil,there was also a greater potential for good ([3.12], 63).40 I use ‘autonomous’ to refer to nothing more than the kind of choice (and life) that Millassigns to the ‘individually spontaneous’ person.41 ‘He who does anything because it is the custom, makes no choice’ (262).42 For the distinction between the positive and the negative sense of freedom, see Isaiah Berlin,‘Two Concepts-of Liberty’, [3.4], 122ff. When Mill refers to freedom of speech it is whollyin the negative sense of freedom from external coercive barriers to expression and discussionof opinion. But where action is concerned, he adds the further requirement regarding thecharacter of the choice determining it. Unlike Rousseau and the Hegelian idealists, he doesnot abandon ‘negative freedom’ in favour of a positive conception.43 Compare ‘Such are the differences among human beings in their sources of pleasure, theirsusceptibilities of pain, and the operation on them of different physical and moral agencies,that unless there is a corresponding diversity in their modes of life, they neither obtain theirfair share of happiness, nor grow up to the mental, moral, and aesthetic stature of which theirnature is capable’ (270). And: ‘In proportion to the development of his individuality, eachperson becomes more valuable to himself… There is a greater fullness of life about his ownexistence’ (266). Also compare Wilhelm von Humboldt’s views in The Sphere and Duties ofGovernment—which Mill quotes with approval: ‘the end of man…is the highest and mostharmonious development of his powers to a complete and consistent whole’ (261). Humboldtcontrasts the partial and one-sided development of the individual’s separate human capacitieswith ‘harmoniously combining them’ so as to achieve an organic unity of life, a ‘union of thepast and the future with the present’ ([3.15], 16–17). Cf. Ten [3.31], 73.44 In Liberty Mill refers to ‘the limits imposed by the rights and interests of others’ on freedomof action (266) and speaks of ‘certain interests which either by express legal provision or bytacit understanding ought to be considered as rights’ (276). In the Autobiography he assignsto Liberty as its ‘leading thought’, ‘the doctrine of the rights of individuality’ (1:260). Cf.Berger [3.3], 229; Donner [3.5], 190–1.45 ‘Justice is a name for certain classes of moral rules, which concern the essentials of humanwell-being more nearly, and are therefore of more absolute obligation, than any other rulesfor the guidance of life; and the notion which we have found to be of the essence of the ideaof justice, that of a right residing in an individual implies and testifies to this more bindingobligation… The moral rules which forbid mankind to hurt one another (in which we must…include, wrongful interference with each other’s freedom) are more vital to human well-beingthan any maxims…which only point out the best mode of managing some department ofhuman affairs’ (10:255). J.C.Rees distinguishes self-regarding from other-regarding conductin terms of actions which merely affect others from those which also adversely affect theinterests of others; and he takes the ‘rules of justice’ to pick out essential or vital humaninterests ([3.26], chapters 5 and 6).46 Cf. Berger [3.3], 233; and Donner [3.5], 125—Aristotle conceives of ‘happiness’ oreudaimonia, ‘the most final end’, as made up of several elements, each of which is necessaryfor achieving it, but some of which are more valuable than others; for example, moral virtuebecause while those who possess it may miss out on happiness, still they can never become‘miserable’ (Nicomachean Ethics, I, 7–10). For a discussion of Aristotle’s conception ofeudaimonia as an inclusive end see Hardie ([3.10], chapter 2) and Ackrill [3.7].47 ‘Original’ here means ‘underived, independent, proceeding from the person directly’. Cf. TheSubjection of Women, 21:314.48 Mill’s plea that ‘exceptional individuals should be encouraged in acting differently from themass’ because ‘in this age, the mere example of nonconformity, the mere refusal to bend theknee to custom, is itself a service’ (269) surely covers the exercise of originality in bothsenses of the term. One can act differently from the mass, and refuse to bend the knee tocustom not only by supporting novel beliefs and practices but also by subscribing to beliefsand practices, whether novel or not, only on the basis of one’s own rational assessment: themanifestation of nonconformity can also be seen as the refusal to follow custom just becauseit is custom or subscribe to opinions just because they are generally acknowledged.49 Cf. Donner [3.5], 170–1. Fitzjames Stephen asks: ‘Was there ever a time or place at which nomen could be improved on any point by free discussion?’ But he goes on to support a morerestrictive interpretation of Mill’s criterion which justifies paternalistic intervention in everysociety ([3.30], 69).50 Cf. Ten [3.31], no; and chapter 7 for a full and valuable discussion of Mill’s rejection ofpaternalism.51 Mill declares that people should not be allowed to sell themselves as slaves, or otherwisecontract to become someone’s slave (299–300). This is sometimes said to be inconsistentwith his rejection of paternalism. But we need not take the prevention of people sellingthemselves into slavery as justified on paternalistic grounds. Mill advocates making any suchengagement ‘null and void’, i.e. not enforceable by law or the pressure of public opinion.Clearly what this is meant to achieve is to prevent anyone else from coercing the individualto act as their slave on the basis of such a contract. The rejection of such contracts then canbe taken to fall under the self-protection principle. At the same time, the exclusion of formalslavery contracts does not mean that we should also prevent someone from actually actingand living as another’s ‘slave’ of his or her own free choice (cf. Ten [3.31], 117–19).52 The distinction Mill seeks to make here, and which he stresses is not ‘merely nominal’, isdesigned to show that protecting the area of self-regarding actions from coercive interventiondoes not preclude us from being concerned with such conduct on the part of others and fromjudging its worth. The doctrine of Liberty, Mill points out, is not one of ‘selfish indifference’,unconcerned about what happens to others unless one’s own interests are involved. Rather, itallows full scope for ‘disinterested exertion to promote the good of others. But disinterestedbenevolence can find other instruments to persuade people to their good, than whips andscourges, either of the literal or the benevolent sort’ (276–7) (also cf. 10:246).53 [3.11], 32–3. With regard to restrictions on the sale of poisons, Mill is concerned about theliberty of the purchaser because some regulations would effectively prevent their purchase:‘to require in all cases the certificate of a medical practitioner, would make it sometimesimpossible, always expensive, to obtain the article for legitimate uses’ (294). He is notagainst requiring purchasers to give their name and address and specify the proposed use ofthe substance, and even when there is no medical prescription to require the presence of athird person to attest to the sale. Mill acknowledges the ‘right inherent in society to ward offcrimes against itself by antecedent precautions’ (295). But he is also concerned that this‘preventive function of government’ may be abused ‘for there is hardly any part of thelegitimate freedom of action of a human being which would not admit of being represented,and fairly too, as increasing the facilities for some form or other of delinquency’ (294). Itshould be noted that Mill is here offering ‘not so much applications, as specimens ofapplications’ designed to illustrate the relevant kinds of reasoning entailed by his doctrine54 The ‘general presumptions’ Mill has in mind are beliefs of the form ‘Most people would orwould not want…’, ‘No one wants…’ etc.55 Cf. Ten [3.31], 116–17; Khan [3.17], 61–5.56 And, according to Mill, it is only in order to escape from extreme unhappiness that onewould prefer to abandon a distinctive human existence (10:211).57 Cf. ‘desiring a thing and finding it pleasant, aversion to it and thinking of it as painful, arephenomena entirely inseparable, or rather two parts of the same phenomenon; in strictness oflanguage, two different modes of naming the same psychological fact’ (10:237). Mill justifiesthe claim on factual grounds; however it should be noted that for him all truths, even those ofmathematics, are empirical; and that he goes on to say that ‘to desire anything, except inproportion as the idea of it is pleasant, is a physical and metaphysical impossibility’ (10:238).58 According to Mill, the will or ‘conscious volition…which has become habitual’ is to bedistinguished from desire, and may be directed to ends other than pleasure. But it is still thecase that ‘will, in the beginning is entirely produced by desire; including in that term therepelling influence of pain as well as the attractive one of pleasure’ (10:238–9). (Also cf.Logic, 8:842–3).59 Cf. ‘What was once desired as an instrument for the attainment of happiness, has come to bedesired for its own sake…as part of happiness. The person is made, or thinks he would bemade, happy by its mere possession; and is made unhappy by failure to obtain it’ (10:236).And: ‘Those who desire virtue for its own sake, desire it either because the consciousness ofit is a pleasure, or because the consciousness of being without it is a pain, or for both reasonsunited’ (10:237).60 Another such element is the provision of a sense of security as the outcome of a generalacknowledgement and society’s protection of individual rights (picked out by the ‘rules ofjustice’—for example protecting people from unjustified infliction of injury and wrongfulinterference with their freedom). Without security no good can be pursued or enjoyed and noevil confidently averted. For this reason, Mill takes the claim for security to assume a‘character of absoluteness’ so that ‘indispensability becomes a moral necessity’ (10:251).Berger divides the essential elements in Mill’s conception of happiness into two basiccategories: (1) ‘the constituents and requirements for an individual’s sense of being his or herown person, of developing one’s life as one chooses—a sense of freedom, power,excitement’, and ‘whatever is necessary to maintain human dignity’. And (2) ‘those thingsrequisite for a sense of security, the prime ones being the fulfilment by others of the rules ofjustice, and their respect for our rights’ ([3.3], 40–2). I am greatly indebted here andelsewhere to the late Professor Berger’s account of Mill’s moral and political views and, inparticular, of Mill’s concept of happiness. For a discussion of Berger’s views see Hoag [3.13]and Ten [3.32].61 In a letter to Gomperz, the translator of the German edition of Utilitarianism, Mill refers to‘the real argument’ behind his misleading statement of it and seems to accept the need fordropping the offending analogy (10:cxxvi; and 16:62 Cf. Skorupski [3.29], 286–7. It seems to be Mill’s view that the evidence we are supposed tocite in favour of the desirability of happiness is that it is consistently and generally desired orpursued as an end and also acknowledged or accepted as such on the basis of reflection andrational consideration. If this were the case then, in the absence of a countervailingexplanation, we would have a strong argument in favour of the principle of utility.63 He declares that ‘the social feelings of mankind’ involve ‘the desire to be in unity with ourfellow creatures… The social state is at once so natural, so necessary, and so habitual to man,that, except in some unusual circumstances or by an effort of voluntary abstraction, he neverconceives himself otherwise than as a member of a body’ (10:231). (Cf. Berger [3.3], 44 and59–61 for a fuller discussion of this aspect of Mill’s views.)64 The argument proceeds on the basis that social life is requisite for the individual’s ownhappiness and a requisite of social life is a concern for the general welfare ([3.3], 59).65 According to Berger, the proof is addressed to intuitionists who held that our moral feelingsare the sole foundation of moral obligations and judgements ([3–3], 53–4).66 But, as Skorupski points out, this is not enough. We need to know on what principles thegood of individuals is to be incorporated into the general good ([3.29], 287). (For adiscussion of this and related issues see chapter 9.)67 Referring to Mill’s proof, Berger writes: ‘It is tempting…to say that there is a missingpremise or assumption here, namely, that Mill believed there is a strong connection betweenthe individual’s welfare and the general welfare. Each individual’s welfare is included in thegeneral welfare, so, if a person desires that person’s own welfare, and it is therefore a good tothem, the general welfare is also a good to them. Of course, it does not follow that they desirethe general welfare, because they may not see the connection; yet, it will be true that thegeneral welfare is good for them. Moreover, they can come to desire the general welfarewhen made aware of the connection, especially if social life is requisite for their happiness,and a requisite of social life is a regard for the general welfare’ ([3.3], 59). This would makeit possible, at least technically, to hold on to the general welfare or happiness as a necessaryfeature of the moral standard.68 Part of what Mill says concerning the mechanism of parliamentary government is also to befound in two other essays published in 1859—Thoughts on Parliamentary Reform andRecent Writers on Reform (19:311ff.). The latter contains a review of Thomas Hare’s ATreatise on the Election of Representatives (1859) containing the proposal for an electoralsystem based on proportional representation involving a national quota of votes for entry toparliament together with preferential voting, a scheme that Mill enthusiastically supported.Having, as he thinks, answered objections brought against the scheme, he predicts that itsimplementation will usher in a new era of parliamentary government (19:453–65). But hedoes not consider the standard objection that such a system is likely to introduce politicalinstability and allow minorities to wield power out of proportion to their size or importance.69 He also discusses other matters which cut across this division, such as the forms ofgovernment best suited to the rule of colonies by a democracy (19:562ff.).70 He refers to this as the power of ‘self-protection’ (19:404, 21:301). However, this feature ofdemocracy has no relation to the self-protection principle mentioned in Liberty.71 See 19:399–403, 467–9. etc.72 He wants minimum proficiency in the three R’s: the voter should be able to ‘copy a sentencefrom an English book, and perform a sum in the rule of three’ (19:471). He also stipulatesthat every voter should be a taxpayer, so that those who elect legislatures will have a specialinterest in keeping expenditure and taxes down. But to allow most people to qualify underthis rule, he recommends that a direct tax in lieu of some existing indirect taxes should belevied on all adults. Other categories of exclusion are undischarged bankruptcy and nonpaymentof taxes, and ‘the receipt of parish relief (19:472).73 ‘So long as an opinion is strongly rooted in the feelings, it gains rather than loses in stabilityby having a preponderating weight of argument against it…; the worse it fares inargumentative contest, the more persuaded its adherents are that their feeling must have somedeeper ground, which the arguments do not reach; and while the feeling remains, it is alwaysthrowing up fresh entrenchments of arguments to repair any breach made in theold’ (21:261).74 Also cf. 21:273, 280; Liberty 301, and Papers on Women’s Rights, the joint product of Milland his wife, Harriet, 21:386.75 Also cf. Representative Government, 19:479–81; and 21:386–7.76 For example, the contention that women’s ‘greater nervous susceptibility’ makes them tooimpulsive and changeable, incapable of perseverance, uncertain, etc. so that they are not fitfor anything but raising a family! Or the view that men are superior to women in mentalcapacity because they have a larger brain (21:307–12).77 Another reason for Mill to review these arguments might be the fact that they wereBIBLIOGRAPHYThis bibliography contains works cited in the text together with a few other items ofinterest.3.1 Ackrill, J.L. ‘Aristotle onEudaimonia’,Proceedings of the British Academy60(1974):339–59.3.2 Bain, A.John Stuart Mill: with Personal Recollections,London: Longmans Green,1882.3.3 Berger, F.R.Happiness, Justice and Freedom: The Moral and Political Philosophy ofJohn Stuart Mill,Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984.3.4 Berlin, I. ‘Two Concepts of Liberty’, ‘John Stuart Mill and the Ends of Life’, inFourEssays on Liberty,London: Oxford University Press, 1969.3.5 Donner, W.The Liberal Self: John Stuart Mill’s Moral and Political Philosophy,Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1991.3.6 Froude, J.A.Life of Carlyle,abridged and ed. by J.Clubbe, London: John Murray,commonly used in public debate and he wants to provide opponents of discrimination withthe details regarding their refutation. It should be recognized that Mill saw The Subjection ofWomen to be a manifesto for legal and social reform—as he said in a letter to Bain, hewanted ‘to stir up the zeal of women themselves…, excite the enthusiasm in women which isnecessary to break down the old barriers’ (17:1623).78 Also cf. 21:302. As part of the social forces which are said to produce female character traitsand mental capacities, Mill assigns a central function to ‘the education given to women—aneducation of the sentiments rather than of the understanding and the habits which are theoutcome of their restricted life-styles’ (21:330). Mill does not deny that the subordination ofwomen may seem to be natural, for: ‘unnatural generally means only uncustomary, and…everything that is usual appears natural The subjection of women to men being a universalcustom, any departure from it quite naturally appears unnatural’ (21:270).79 Women, according to Mill, are indoctrinated to be submissive and obedient ‘by representingto them meekness, submissiveness and resignation of all individual will, into the hands of aman, as an essential part of sexual attractiveness’ (21:272). This is reflected in the work ofwomen writers, so that the ‘greater part of what women write about women is meresycophancy to men’ (21:279).80 ‘its psychological contribution is the book’s great achievement: Mill’s psychology isgrounded in a more lucid distinction between prescription and description than oneencounters in Freud, and a far more intelligent grasp of the effects of environment andcircumstance. Mill is also sensitive to the mechanisms by which conservative thoughtconstrues the status quo into the inevitable’ (Millett [3.19], 96). Kate Millett’s account ofMill’s views as contrasted with those of Ruskin is an important contribution to ourunderstanding of the issues involved ([3.19], 88–108).81 For example, the 1852 edition of the Logic carried a footnote which deplored the commonuse of the pronoun ‘he’ to refer to human beings in general, and went on to point out that thiswas ‘more than a defect in language; tending greatly to prolong the almost universal habit, ofthinking and speaking of half the human species as the whole’. Although the footnote wasdeleted in later editions, its existence indicates an awareness on Mill’s part of the ‘genderbias’attaching to language ([3.34], 136).1979.3.7 Gray, J.Mill on Liberty: A Defence,London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1983.3.8——(1991)Liberalisms: Essays in Political Philosophy,London, Routledge, 1991.3.9 Gorovitz, S. ed.Mill’s Utilitarianism,Indianapolis: Bobbs Merrill, 1971.3.10 Hardie, W.F.R.Aristotle’s Ethical Theory,2nd edn, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1980.3.11 Hart, H.L.A.Law, Liberty.and Morality,London: Oxford University Press, 1964.3.12 Himmelfarb, G.On Liberty and Liberalism: The Case of John Stuart Mill,NewYork: Alfred Knopf, 1974.3.13 Hoag, R.W. ‘Happiness and Freedom: Recent Work on John Stuart Mill’,Philosophy & Public Affairs15 (1986):188–99.3.14 Honderich, T. ‘On Libertyand Morality-dependent Harms’,Political Studies,30(1982):504–14.3.15 Humboldt, W.vonThe Limits of State Action,ed. by J.W.Burrow, Cambridge:Cambridge University Press, 1969.3.16 James, W. ‘On a Certain Blindness in Human Beings’, inSelected Papers onPhilosophy,London, J.M.Dent, 1961.3.17 Khan, R.F. ‘Mental Retardation and Paternalistic Control’, in R.S.Laura andA.F.Ashman, eds,Moral Issues in Mental Retardation,London: Croom Helm, 1985.3.18 Mill, J.S.Collected Works,33 vols, ed. by J.M.Robson, Toronto and London:University of Toronto Press, and Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1963–91.3.19 Millett, K.Sexual Politics,London, Virago Press, 1983.3.20 Milton, J.Areopagitica: A Speech to the Parliament of England for the Liberty ofUnlicensed Printing,London, Hunter & Stevens, 1819.3.21 Monro, D.H. ‘Liberty of Expression: Its Grounds and Limits II’,Inquiry,13(1970):238–53.3.22 Morley, J. ‘Mr Mill’s Doctrine of Liberty’ in P.Stansky, ed.,John Morley:Nineteenth Century Essays,Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1970.3.23 Packe, M. St. J.The Life of John Stuart Mill,London: Seeker & Warburg, 1954.3.24 Plamenatz, J.The English Utilitarians,2nd edn, Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1958.3.25 Popper, K.R.The Logic of Scientific Discovery,London: Hutchinson, 1959.3.26 Rees, J.C.John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty,Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985.3.27 Ryan, A.J.S.Mill,London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1974.3.28 Schneewind, J.B. ed.Mill: A Collection of Critical Essays,New York: Doubleday,1968.3.29 Skorupski, J.John Stuart Mill,London: Routledge, 1989.3.30 Stephen, J.F.Liberty, Equality, Fraternityed. by R.J.White, Cambridge: CambridgeUniversity Press, 1967.3.31 Ten, C.L.Mill on Liberty,Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1980.3.32——‘Mill’s Defence of Liberty’, in K.Haakonssen, ed.,Traditions of Liberalism:Essays on John Locke, Adam Smith and John Stuart Mill,Sydney: Centre forIndependent Studies, 1988.3.33 Thompson, D.F.John Stuart Mill and Representative Government,Princeton:Princeton University Press, 1976.3.34 Tulloch, G.Mill and Sexual Equality,Hemel Hempstead: Harvester Wheatsheaf,1989.3.35 Wollheim, R. ‘John Stuart Mill and the Limits of State Action’,Social Research40(1973):1–30.3.36 Wood, J.C., ed.John Stuart Mill: Critical Assessment,vol. I, London: Croom Helm,1987.