Kantianism, as explained by Immanuel Kant, and Utilitarianism, as explained by John Stuart Mill, represent two different theories for how people ought to act. Kant is primarily concerned with duty. His main idea in Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals (1785) is that an act is in accord with duty and therefore morally permissible if it follows the categorical imperative: “I should never act except in such a way that I can also will that my maxim should become a universal law” (14). This rule states that there is a principle (or a maxim as Kant calls it) behind every act, and that if we cannot universalize this principle, then the act is contrary to duty, and therefore not morally permissible. Mill’s basic idea in Utilitarianism (1861), on the other hand, focuses on utility to guide one’s moral decisions, not duty. To figure out what we ought to do, Mill asks us to always consider the greatest happiness principle, which he states as follows: “…actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness; wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness” (7). Mill quantifies every action by how much happiness and/or suffering it produces, and tells us that to be moral is to pick those actions that most “tend to” promote happiness and least “tend to” promote suffering. I find Kant’s moral theory worthier of adoption because, in those issues for which the two theories tell us we ought to act differently, I find it more comfortable given my existing moral beliefs[1] to do as Kant would instruct than to do what Mill would instruct. In those rare scenarios in which I admit I am more comfortable with the utilitarian understanding, these are bullets I am able to bite; I find, however, that the bullets that a utilitarian must bite are much worse—at least as measured by what I am comfortable with.
To preface what will eventually be my rebuke of Mill, I feel I must first give it a fair exposition. As previously mentioned, Mill asks us to consider with every moral decision which of our options would tend to promote the most happiness and/or the least suffering, and to do as that option dictates. This theory has been split for the purpose of discourse; first is the Theory of the Right or the consequentialist view that acts are right in in proportion as they tend to promote good; next is the Theory of the Good or the Hedonistic view that the only thing good in itself is happiness and the absence of suffering. Having split the principle into two though, we can begin to look at objections to each part. One objection to the Theory of the Good is that there is more good than just pleasure and absence of suffering; there is also meaning, purpose, love, pride, sympathy, achievement, etc. To this, Mill responds that “it is quite compatible with the principle of utility to recognize the fact that some kinds of pleasure are more desirable and valuable than others” (7). In other words, Mill asserts that all of these feelings (love, purpose, achievement, etc.) are pleasure, and that there is no law of utilitarianism that dictates all pleasures equal; in other words, there can be higher and lower quality pleasures within utilitarianism. Higher quality pleasures can outweigh higher quantities of lower quality pleasures, and this is all consistent with utilitarianism.
There are two main objections to the Theory of the Right that Mill talks about. The first is that there are things that are right which do not tend to promote happiness and that there are things which tend to promote happiness but aren’t right. An example of this may be to lie to get out of trouble. Mill, however, argues that utilitarianism doesn’t permit this lying to get out of trouble because the lying leads to the dissolution of the concept of trust, which we need in our society to produce the most happiness and least suffering. Even if you will likely get away with lying, the consequences if you don’t (the dissolution of trust) are much worse for total happiness than the amount by which getting away with lying could be good for the total happiness. The second objection to the Theory of the Right is that there are acts that are just but don’t produce happiness and that there are unjust practices that do. To this, Mill must tackle the idea of justice and in doing so, he defines just acts as merely a subset of acts that promote happiness. He claims this subset of happiness-producing acts, the “just” subset, is defined by the opposite action infringing on someone’s rights. These rights whose infringement would be unjust are moral rights, the right to get what you deserve, the right to be judged impartially, and the right to have your promises kept. When acts preserve these rights when their opposite acts would infringe, they are just, but justness is but an adjective to describe this one subset of happiness-promoting acts. We have now explained Mill simply by paraphrasing. We will get to the real downsides of being utilitarian later in this essay, after we have given the same paraphrasing to Kant’s work.
As to not complicate Kant’s work in the context of comparing it with Mill’s,[2] I am going to focus on Kant’s test for moral permissibility: the categorical imperative. The categorical imperative, as stated in the introduction, stipulates that the principal upon which we act has to be universalizable in order for the act to be morally permissible (in Kant’s words, “in accord with duty”). Testing whether an act’s principle is universalizable has three basic steps:
- Find the principle.
- Universalize the principle.
- Test whether it can hold as a natural, universal law.
This third step, the test, comes with two ways to fail it, both by contradiction. First, there is the contradiction where the very idea of the principle holding as universal law would be impossible. Take the making of false promises for our own gain as an example:
- The principle is that we can make false promises for our own gain.
- Everybody always makes false promises for their own gain.
- There is a contradiction in this universalization because, if everybody always made promises for their own gain, then nobody would make promises. The idea that nobody makes promises contradicts with #2 since #2 stipulates that everybody is making promises.
The second possible contradiction is in our willing that the act become a universal law. This isn’t a contradiction between #3 and #2 (as you will see), but rather a contradiction between #2 and my will—I would not commit this act if its principle were going to be universalized. Take never helping anybody else as an example:
- The principle is that I won’t help others.
- Nobody will ever help others.
- There is no problem with the existence of this law in terms of literal possibility, but this world would be an extremely unforgiving, inhumane place to live. Furthermore, nobody would help me if I were in need, and I therefore would not be able to will that my principle become universal law.
If my act’s principle can become universal law while avoiding enacting an impossible scenario (#3 contradicts #2, the first contradiction), and avoiding creating a situation I would not be able to will (#2 contradicts my will), then the action is morally permissible according to Kant.
Next, I will draw on some scenarios to explain where the two moral theories might disagree with each other. This will help to understand the applications of the two theories and will allow me to explain why I side with Kant over Mill. The first scenario we will call the Righteous Burglar. In this scenario, there is a metropolis with a large income distribution. There are many millionaires in this city, even billionaires, and also extremely poor people, some of which are quite special and could really do a lot of good for the world if only they had the money to escape poverty. In this metropolis, there is a burglar who is known for stealing money from vaults contained in the considerably rich people’s homes. His theft is not very emotionally damaging; he doesn’t take any sentimental possessions, but rather he cleanly extracts an amount of money that is essentially negligible to the very rich (say he takes $50,000 from a billionaire), and he gives it to some of the brightest and genuinely kind poor people in the city, say 5 of them. The poor people given the money tend to decide to do decent things with their money: they spend it on their families, they start local businesses that employ people, some of them even start charities. The billionaires, not very affected by their loss, tend to spend a little more money on security and otherwise go on with their lives. The burglaries are clean extractions anyway, and nobody is really traumatized. How should we think of the Righteous Burglar? Mill would ask us to evaluate his actions as they promote happiness and avoid suffering. Before the Righteous Burglar operated, many of the poor were suffering; now they are happy. The billionaire stolen from was whatever level of happy he was, and now he is only slightly less happy. The amount of happiness caused was great, the amount of suffering caused was minimal. According to utilitarianism, then, the Righteous Burglar does something morally good. Now, I will perform the Kant test as well on this scenario:
- The principle is that someone may steal from the rich to give to the poor.
- Everybody always steals from the rich to give to the poor.
- There is a contradiction in this universalization because if everybody were to always steal from the rich and give to the poor, there would be no rich to steal from, or no poor to give to (I’m not sure which would happen first). This is a contradiction with #2 since #2 requires that there be rich people to steal from and poor people to give to. The very idea of this holding as a universal law is impossible, and therefore there is a contradiction.
In the eyes of Mill, the Righteous Burglar is good, and in the eyes of Kant, he is bad. This is what I believe to be the major bullet that supporters of Kant must bite. Even things that would make many people very happy cannot be accomplished so long as their principle could not be replicated universally, which is admittedly a high standard for acts.
Now, I will demonstrate the bullet utilitarians must bite. This situation I will call The Surgeon and the Loner.[3] In this scenario, I am a successful surgeon quite talented at performing organ transplants. I have two patients that need kidneys, two that need lungs, and one that needs a heart. They all are going to die in the next few weeks if they do not have the organ transplants they need, and I have no willing donors. Moreover,[4] all five patients are innovators in the field of cancer research. They collaborate with each other frequently, and they are nearing a cure for cancer, but they think it’ll still be another year until they are able to fully discover the cure and publish their results. I also have a 6th patient. This 6th patient does no work for the world, and nobody at all loves or cares about him. He rummages through the dumpsters every day to find food, and he survives, but not only does it seem he will never escape intense poverty, but nobody cares if he does. He is also quite selfish and dumb; his presence does not bring happiness to the world (other than his own) and it shows no sign of ever doing so. He is an illegal immigrant and is therefore not contained in any government database, and he only shows himself at night. I only know him because I am a night owl and stumbled upon him during a 3am jog and offered him my services. Am I allowed to harvest his organs, killing him in the process, for the sake of the five do-gooders? A utilitarian would be forced to say yes, as his suffering is very small compared to the happiness of the five cancer researchers, everybody they know and love, and the millions of lives they’ll soon save. But a supporter of Kant would say no:
- The principle is that I can kill to save people deemed more happiness-producing for society.
- Everyone will always kill to save people deemed more happiness-producing for society.
- While this world is possible, it seems like quite a horrible one. At any time, anyone who is not the most happiness-producing person in the world could be murdered. This world would not have interaction beyond what is necessary to survive, as everyone would be too afraid of being killed on the basis of one’s unsuccessfulness at producing happiness. There is therefore a contradiction in my willing that this become a universal law.
This scenario explains why I would support Kant over Mill. At worst, a world where people follow the categorical imperative is one where people are too principled and afraid to make exceptions to rules even when these exceptions might do good for society. Sometimes this lack of flexibility may cause people pain, and that is unfortunate. However, this doesn’t compare to the shortcomings of a world where people are utilitarian. In a utilitarian world, one is always subject to being evaluated on how much happiness they produce, and anything that you have, at any time, (even your life itself) can and should be sacrificed for the greatest total happiness. Any sort of selfishness or favoritism ever is immoral, even if that means buying my mother a nice present instead of donating the money for that gift to charity, or just acquiring nice things of any kind, or simply living near people that need organs and happen to be better people at producing happiness. I think even worse though, is not just what Mill would define as immoral, but what he would define as moral—anything that promotes happiness more than it promotes suffering. If someone would like your dinner more than you would, they can and should steal it. If your small amount of wealth (say you’re a laborer) could save the lives of several starving children, stealing it would be not just allowed, but encouraged. And most damningly, if your body itself could save people who in total produce more happiness than you, than your life itself could be stolen, and should be stolen, so long as these actions are not caught and therefore can’t have a detrimental effect on the normal amount of happiness in the world (through the dissolution of trust, for example). These are bullets I would not bite.
[1] I realize this may be unsatisfying. In a paper of this length, I would find it quite challenging to examine and even problematize the issue of my own views of morality. I wish I had the chance to examine them and explain to the reader why I hold these views, and why I see that these views are correct, but unfortunately this issue is out of the scope of this paper. I have no choice to rely on what I already believe to be moral, which may seem intellectually lazy, but I would say it is more intellectually inexpedient.
[2] This is to say we will not be worrying about Kant’s theory of value. This is the theory that morally praises actions if they are only motivated by duty. Though some essays comparing Mill to Kant may include this, it is in my opinion that we should centrally focus on the comparison between Mill’s greatest happiness principle and Kant’s categorical imperative. A longer essay could deal with Kant’s theory of value in more detail than this footnote, and could maybe even compare it to Mill.
[3] This is based on a scenario described in Thomson’s “The Trolley Problem” but it is not the exact same scenario. I have added some details to make it so that a utilitarian is forced into one of the options, rather than really being able to choose both and fit them to utilitarianism.
[4] This is my addition.