John stuart mill

successfully made against the encroachment. The demand that all other people

shall resemble ourselves, grows by what it feeds on. If resistance waits till

life is reduced nearly to one uniform type, all deviations from that type will

come to be considered impious, immoral, even monstrous and contrary to nature.

Mankind speedily become unable to conceive diversity, when they have been for

some time unaccustomed to see it.

[1] The Sphere and Duties of Government, from the German of Baron Wilhelm von

Humboldt, pp. 11-13.

[2] Sterling's Essays.

[3] There is something both contemptible and frightful in the sort of evidence

on which, of late years, any person can be judicially declared unfit for the

management of his affairs; and after his death, his disposal of his property can

be set aside, if there is enough of it to pay the expenses of litigation — which

are charged on the property itself. All of the minute details of his daily life

are pried into, and whatever is found which, seen through the medium of the

perceiving and escribing faculties of the lowest of the low, bears an appearance

unlike absolute commonplace, is laid before the jury as evidence of insanity,

and often with success; the jurors being little, if at all, less vulgar and

ignorant than the witnesses; while the judges, with that extraordinary want of

knowledge of human nature and life which continually astonishes us in English

lawyers, often help to mislead them. These trials speak volumes as to the state

of feeling and opinion among the vulgar with regard to human liberty. So far

from setting any value on individuality — so far from respecting the rights of

each individual to act, in things indifferent, as seems good to his own judgment

and inclinations, judges and juries cannot even conceive that a person in a

state of sanity can desire such freedom. In former days, when it was proposed to

burn atheists, charitable people used to suggest putting them in a madhouse

instead: it would be nothing surprising now-a-days were we to see this done, and

the doers applauding themselves, because, instead of persecuting for religion,

they had adopted so humane and Christian a mode of treating these unfortunates,

not without a silent satisfaction at their having thereby obtained their

deserts.

CHAPTER IV

OF THE LIMITS TO THE AUTHORITY OF SOCIETY OVER THE INDIVIDUAL

WHAT, then, is the rightful limit to the sovereignty of the individual over

himself? Where does the authority of society begin? How much of human life

should be assigned to individuality, and how much to society?

Each will receive its proper share, if each has that which more particularly

concerns it. To individuality should belong the part of life in which it is

chiefly the individual that is interested; to society, the part which chiefly

interests society.

Though society is not founded on a contract, and though no good purpose is

answered by inventing a contract in order to deduce social obligations from it,

every one who receives the protection of society owes a return for the benefit,

and the fact of living in society renders it indispensable that each should be

bound to observe a certain line of conduct towards the rest. This conduct

consists, first, in not injuring the interests of one another; or rather certain

interests, which, either by express legal provision or by tacit understanding,

ought to be considered as rights; and secondly, in each person's bearing his

share (to be fixed on some equitable principle) of the labors and sacrifices

incurred for defending the society or its members from injury and molestation.

These conditions society is justified in enforcing, at all costs to those who

endeavor to withhold fulfilment. Nor is this all that society may do. The acts

of an individual may be hurtful to others, or wanting in due consideration for

their welfare, without going the length of violating any of their constituted

rights. The offender may then be justly punished by opinion, though not by law.

As soon as any part of a person's conduct affects prejudicially the interests of

others, society has jurisdiction over it, and the question whether the general

welfare will or will not be promoted by interfering with it, becomes open to

discussion. But there is no room for entertaining any such question when a

person's conduct affects the interests of no persons besides himself, or needs

not affect them unless they like (all the persons concerned being of full age,

and the ordinary amount of understanding). In all such cases there should be

perfect freedom, legal and social, to do the action and stand the consequences.

It would be a great misunderstanding of this doctrine, to suppose that it is one

of selfish indifference, which pretends that human beings have no business with

each other's conduct in life, and that they should not concern themselves about

the well-doing or well-being of one another, unless their own interest is

involved. Instead of any diminution, there is need of a great increase of

disinterested exertion to promote the good of others. But disinterested

benevolence can find other instruments to persuade people to their good, than

whips and scourges, either of the literal or the metaphorical sort. I am the

last person to undervalue the self-regarding virtues; they are only second in

importance, if even second, to the social. It is equally the business of

education to cultivate both. But even education works by conviction and

persuasion as well as by compulsion, and it is by the former only that, when the

period of education is past, the self-regarding virtues should be inculcated.

Human beings owe to each other help to distinguish the better from the worse,

and encouragement to choose the former and avoid the latter. They should be

forever stimulating each other to increased exercise of their higher faculties,

and increased direction of their feelings and aims towards wise instead of

foolish, elevating instead of degrading, objects and contemplations. But neither

one person, nor any number of persons, is warranted in saying to another human

creature of ripe years, that he shall not do with his life for his own benefit

what he chooses to do with it. He is the person most interested in his own

well-being, the interest which any other person, except in cases of strong

personal attachment, can have in it, is trifling, compared with that which he

himself has; the interest which society has in him individually (except as to

his conduct to others) is fractional, and altogether indirect: while, with

respect to his own feelings and circumstances, the most ordinary man or woman

has means of knowledge immeasurably surpassing those that can be possessed by

any one else. The interference of society to overrule his judgment and purposes

in what only regards himself, must be grounded on general presumptions; which

may be altogether wrong, and even if right, are as likely as not to be

misapplied to individual cases, by persons no better acquainted with the

circumstances of such cases than those are who look at them merely from without.

In this department, therefore, of human affairs, Individuality has its proper

field of action. In the conduct of human beings towards one another, it is

necessary that general rules should for the most part be observed, in order that

people may know what they have to expect; but in each person's own concerns, his

individual spontaneity is entitled to free exercise. Considerations to aid his

judgment, exhortations to strengthen his will, may be offered to him, even

obtruded on him, by others; but he, himself, is the final judge. All errors

which he is likely to commit against advice and warning, are far outweighed by

the evil of allowing others to constrain him to what they deem his good.

I do not mean that the feelings with which a person is regarded by others, ought

not to be in any way affected by his self-regarding qualities or deficiencies.

This is neither possible nor desirable. If he is eminent in any of the qualities

which conduce to his own good, he is, so far, a proper object of admiration. He

is so much the nearer to the ideal perfection of human nature. If he is grossly

deficient in those qualities, a sentiment the opposite of admiration will

follow. There is a degree of folly, and a degree of what may be called (though

the phrase is not unobjectionable) lowness or depravation of taste, which,

though it cannot justify doing harm to the person who manifests it, renders him

necessarily and properly a subject of distaste, or, in extreme cases, even of

contempt: a person could not have the opposite qualities in due strength without

entertaining these feelings. Though doing no wrong to any one, a person may so

act as to compel us to judge him, and feel to him, as a fool, or as a being of

an inferior order: and since this judgment and feeling are a fact which he would

prefer to avoid, it is doing him a service to warn him of it beforehand, as of

any other disagreeable consequence to which he exposes himself. It would be

well, indeed, if this good office were much more freely rendered than the common

notions of politeness at present permit, and if one person could honestly point

out to another that he thinks him in fault, without being considered unmannerly

or presuming. We have a right, also, in various ways, to act upon our

unfavorable opinion of any one, not to the oppression of his individuality, but

in the exercise of ours. We are not bound, for example, to seek his society; we

have a right to avoid it (though not to parade the avoidance), for we have a

right to choose the society most acceptable to us. We have a right, and it may

be our duty, to caution others against him, if we think his example or

conversation likely to have a pernicious effect on those with whom he

associates. We may give others a preference over him in optional good offices,

except those which tend to his improvement. In these various modes a person may

suffer very severe penalties at the hands of others, for faults which directly

concern only himself; but he suffers these penalties only in so far as they are

the natural, and, as it were, the spontaneous consequences of the faults

themselves, not because they are purposely inflicted on him for the sake of

punishment. A person who shows rashness, obstinacy, self-conceit — who cannot

live within moderate means — who cannot restrain himself from hurtful

indulgences — who pursues animal pleasures at the expense of those of feeling

and intellect — must expect to be lowered in the opinion of others, and to have

a less share of their favorable sentiments, but of this he has no right to

complain, unless he has merited their favor by special excellence in his social

relations, and has thus established a title to their good offices, which is not

affected by his demerits towards himself.

What I contend for is, that the inconveniences which are strictly inseparable

from the unfavorable judgment of others, are the only ones to which a person

should ever be subjected for that portion of his conduct and character which

concerns his own good, but which does not affect the interests of others in

their relations with him. Acts injurious to others require a totally different

treatment. Encroachment on their rights; infliction on them of any loss or

damage not justified by his own rights; falsehood or duplicity in dealing with

them; unfair or ungenerous use of advantages over them; even selfish abstinence

from defending them against injury — these are fit objects of moral reprobation,

and, in grave cases, of moral retribution and punishment. And not only these

acts, but the dispositions which lead to them, are properly immoral, and fit

subjects of disapprobation which may rise to abhorrence. Cruelty of disposition;

malice and ill-nature; that most anti-social and odious of all passions, envy;

dissimulation and insincerity, irascibility on insufficient cause, and

resentment disproportioned to the provocation; the love of domineering over

others; the desire to engross more than one's share of advantages (the

[greekword] of the Greeks); the pride which derives gratification from the

abasement of others; the egotism which thinks self and its concerns more

important than everything else, and decides all doubtful questions in his own

favor; — these are moral vices, and constitute a bad and odious moral character:

unlike the self-regarding faults previously mentioned, which are not properly

immoralities, and to whatever pitch they may be carried, do not constitute

wickedness. They may be proofs of any amount of folly, or want of personal

dignity and self-respect; but they are only a subject of moral reprobation when

they involve a breach of duty to others, for whose sake the individual is bound

to have care for himself. What are called duties to ourselves are not socially

obligatory, unless circumstances render them at the same time duties to others.

The term duty to oneself, when it means anything more than prudence, means

self-respect or self-development; and for none of these is any one accountable

to his fellow-creatures, because for none of them is it for the good of mankind

that he be held accountable to them.

The distinction between the loss of consideration which a person may rightly

incur by defect of prudence or of personal dignity, and the reprobation which is

due to him for an offence against the rights of others, is not a merely nominal

distinction. It makes a vast difference both in our feelings and in our conduct

towards him, whether he displeases us in things in which we think we have a

right to control him, or in things in which we know that we have not. If he

displeases us, we may express our distaste, and we may stand aloof from a person

as well as from a thing that displeases us; but we shall not therefore feel

called on to make his life uncomfortable. We shall reflect that he already

bears, or will bear, the whole penalty of his error; if he spoils his life by

mismanagement, we shall not, for that reason, desire to spoil it still further:

instead of wishing to punish him, we shall rather endeavor to alleviate his

punishment, by showing him how he may avoid or cure the evils his conduct tends

to bring upon him. He may be to us an object of pity, perhaps of dislike, but

not of anger or resentment; we shall not treat him like an enemy of society: the

worst we shall think ourselves justified in doing is leaving him to himself, If

we do not interfere benevolently by showing interest or concern for him. It is

far otherwise if he has infringed the rules necessary for the protection of his

fellow-creatures, individually or collectively. The evil consequences of his

acts do not then fall on himself, but on others; and society, as the protector

of all its members, must retaliate on him; must inflict pain on him for the

express purpose of punishment, and must take care that it be sufficiently

severe. In the one case, he is an offender at our bar, and we are called on not

only to sit in judgment on him, but, in one shape or another, to execute our own

sentence: in the other case, it is not our part to inflict any suffering on him,

except what may incidentally follow from our using the same liberty in the

regulation of our own affairs, which we allow to him in his.

The distinction here pointed out between the part of a person's life which

concerns only himself, and that which concerns others, many persons will refuse

to admit. How (it may be asked) can any part of the conduct of a member of

society be a matter of indifference to the other members? No person is an

entirely isolated being; it is impossible for a person to do anything seriously

or permanently hurtful to himself, without mischief reaching at least to his

near connections, and often far beyond them. If he injures his property, he does

harm to those who directly or indirectly derived support from it, and usually

diminishes, by a greater or less amount, the general resources of the community.

If he deteriorates his bodily or mental faculties, he not only brings evil upon

all who depended on him for any portion of their happiness, but disqualifies

himself for rendering the services which he owes to his fellow-creatures

generally; perhaps becomes a burden on their affection or benevolence; and if

such conduct were very frequent, hardly any offence that is committed would

detract more from the general sum of good. Finally, if by his vices or follies a

person does no direct harm to others, he is nevertheless (it may be said)

injurious by his example; and ought to be compelled to control himself, for the

sake of those whom the sight or knowledge of his conduct might corrupt or

mislead.

to the vicious or thoughtless individual, ought society to abandon to their own

guidance those who are manifestly unfit for it? If protection against themselves

is confessedly due to children and persons under age, is not society equally

bound to afford it to persons of mature years who are equally incapable of

self-government? If gambling, or drunkenness, or incontinence, or idleness, or

uncleanliness, are as injurious to happiness, and as great a hindrance to

improvement, as many or most of the acts prohibited by law, why (it may be

asked) should not law, so far as is consistent with practicability and social

convenience, endeavor to repress these also? And as a supplement to the

unavoidable imperfections of law, ought not opinion at least to organize a

powerful police against these vices, and visit rigidly with social penalties

those who are known to practise them? There is no question here (it may be said)

about restricting individuality, or impeding the trial of new and original

experiments in living. The only things it is sought to prevent are things which

have been tried and condemned from the beginning of the world until now; things

which experience has shown not to be useful or suitable to any person's

individuality. There must be some length of time and amount of experience, after

which a moral or prudential truth may be regarded as established, and it is

merely desired to prevent generation after generation from falling over the same

precipice which has been fatal to their predecessors.

I fully admit that the mischief which a person does to himself, may seriously

affect, both through their sympathies and their interests, those nearly

connected with him, and in a minor degree, society at large. When, by conduct of

this sort, a person is led to violate a distinct and assignable obligation to

any other person or persons, the case is taken out of the self-regarding class,

and becomes amenable to moral disapprobation in the proper sense of the term.

If, for example, a man, through intemperance or extravagance, becomes unable to

pay his debts, or, having undertaken the moral responsibility of a family,

becomes from the same cause incapable of supporting or educating them, he is

deservedly reprobated, and might be justly punished; but it is for the breach of

duty to his family or creditors, not for the extravagence. If the resources

which ought to have been devoted to them, had been diverted from them for the

most prudent investment, the moral culpability would have been the same. George

Barnwell murdered his uncle to get money for his mistress, but if he had done it

to set himself up in business, he would equally have been hanged. Again, in the

frequent case of a man who causes grief to his family by addiction to bad

habits, he deserves reproach for his unkindness or ingratitude; but so he may

for cultivating habits not in themselves vicious, if they are painful to those

with whom he passes his life, or who from personal ties are dependent on him for

their comfort. Whoever fails in the consideration generally due to the interests

and feelings of others, not being compelled by some more imperative duty, or

justified by allowable self-preference, is a subject of moral disapprobation for

that failure, but not for the cause of it, nor for the errors, merely personal

to himself, which may have remotely led to it. In like manner, when a person

disables himself, by conduct purely self-regarding, from the performance of some

definite duty incumbent on him to the public, he is guilty of a social offence.

No person ought to be punished simply for being drunk; but a soldier or a

policeman should be punished for being drunk on duty. Whenever, in short, there

is a definite damage, or a definite risk of damage, either to an individual or

to the public, the case is taken out of the province of liberty, and placed in

that of morality or law.

But with regard to the merely contingent or, as it may be called, constructive

injury which a person causes to society, by conduct which neither violates any

specific duty to the public, nor occasions perceptible hurt to any assignable

individual except himself; the inconvenience is one which society can afford to

bear, for the sake of the greater good of human freedom. If grown persons are to

be punished for not taking proper care of themselves, I would rather it were for

their own sake, than under pretence of preventing them from impairing their

capacity of rendering to society benefits which society does not pretend it has

a right to exact. But I cannot consent to argue the point as if society had no

means of bringing its weaker members up to its ordinary standard of rational

conduct, except waiting till they do something irrational, and then punishing

them, legally or morally, for it. Society has had absolute power over them

during all the early portion of their existence: it has had the whole period of

childhood and nonage in which to try whether it could make them capable of

rational conduct in life. The existing generation is master both of the training

and the entire circumstances of the generation to come; it cannot indeed make

them perfectly wise and good, because it is itself so lamentably deficient in