We discuss the variety of sorts of sympathy Hume recognizes, the extent to which he thinks our sympathy with others’ feelings depends on inferences from the other’s expression, and from her perceived situation, and consider also whether he later changed his views about the nature and role of sympathy, in particular its role in morals.

David Hume has been invoked by those who want to found morality on human nature as well as by their critics. He is credited with showing us the fallacy of moving from premises about what is the case to conclusions about what ought to be the case; and yet, just a few pages after the famous is-ought remarks in A Treatise of Human Nature, he embarks on his equally famous derivation of the obligations of justice from facts about the cooperative (...) schemes accepted in human communities. Is he ambivalent on the relationship between facts about human nature and human evaluations? Does he contradict himself – and, if so, which part of his whole position is most valuable? Between the famous is-ought passage and the famous account of convention and the obligations arising from established cooperative schemes once they are morally endorsed, Hume discusses the various meanings of the term “natural.” “Shou'd it be ask'd, Whether we ought to search for these principles [upon which all our notions of morals are founded] in nature or whether we must look for them in some other origin? I wou'd reply, that our answer to this question depends upon the definition of the word, Nature, than which there is none more ambiguous and equivocal.” The natural can be opposed to the miraculous, the unusual, or the artificial. It is the last contrast that Hume wants, for his contrast between the “artificial” culturally variant, convention-dependent obligations of justice and the more invariant “natural virtues,” and what he says about that contrast in this preparation for his account of the “artificial” virtues, makes it clear why he can later refer to justice as “natural” and to the general content of the rules of justice – that is, of basic human conventions of cooperation – as “Laws of Nature”. (shrink)

In recent decades in North American social and moral philosophy, alongside the development and discussion of widely influential theories of justice, taken as Rawls takes it as the ‘first virtue of social institutions,’ there has been a counter-movement gathering strength, one coming from some interesting sources. For some of the most outspoken of the diverse group who have in a variety of ways been challenging the assumed supremacy of justice among the moral and social virtues are members of those sections (...) of society whom one might have expected to be especially aware of the supreme importance of justice, namely blacks and women. Those who have only recently won recognition of their equal rights, who have only recently seen the correction or partial correction of long-standing racist and sexist injustices to their race and sex, are among the philosophers now suggesting that justice is only one virtue among many, and one that may need the presence of the others in order to deliver its own undenied value. Among these philosophers of the philosophical counterculture, as it were - but an increasingly large counterculture - I include Alasdair MacIntyre, Michael Stocker, Lawrence Blum, Michael Slote, Laurence Thomas, Claudia Card, Alison Jaggar, Susan Wolf and a whole group of men and women, myself included, who have been influenced by the writings of Harvard educational psychologist Carol Gilligan, whose book In a Different Voice caused a considerable stir both in the popular press and, more slowly, in the philosophical journals. (shrink)

In recent decades in North American social and moral philosophy, alongside the development and discussion of widely influential theories of justice, taken as Rawls takes it as the ‘first virtue of social institutions,’ there has been a counter-movement gathering strength, one coming from some interesting sources. For some of the most outspoken of the diverse group who have in a variety of ways been challenging the assumed supremacy of justice among the moral and social virtues are members of those sections (...) of society whom one might have expected to be especially aware of the supreme importance of justice, namely blacks and women. Those who have only recently won recognition of their equal rights, who have only recently seen the correction or partial correction of long-standing racist and sexist injustices to their race and sex, are among the philosophers now suggesting that justice is only one virtue among many, and one that may need the presence of the others in order to deliver its own undenied value. Among these philosophers of the philosophical counterculture, as it were - but an increasingly large counterculture - I include Alasdair MacIntyre, Michael Stocker, Lawrence Blum, Michael Slote, Laurence Thomas, Claudia Card, Alison Jaggar, Susan Wolf and a whole group of men and women, myself included, who have been influenced by the writings of Harvard educational psychologist Carol Gilligan, whose book In a Different Voice caused a considerable stir both in the popular press and, more slowly, in the philosophical journals. (shrink)

In recent decades in North American social and moral philosophy, alongside the development and discussion of widely influential theories of justice, taken as Rawls takes it as the ‘first virtue of social institutions,’ there has been a counter-movement gathering strength, one coming from some interesting sources. For some of the most outspoken of the diverse group who have in a variety of ways been challenging the assumed supremacy of justice among the moral and social virtues are members of those sections (...) of society whom one might have expected to be especially aware of the supreme importance of justice, namely blacks and women. Those who have only recently won recognition of their equal rights, who have only recently seen the correction or partial correction of long-standing racist and sexist injustices to their race and sex, are among the philosophers now suggesting that justice is only one virtue among many, and one that may need the presence of the others in order to deliver its own undenied value. Among these philosophers of the philosophical counterculture, as it were - but an increasingly large counterculture - I include Alasdair MacIntyre, Michael Stocker, Lawrence Blum, Michael Slote, Laurence Thomas, Claudia Card, Alison Jaggar, Susan Wolf and a whole group of men and women, myself included, who have been influenced by the writings of Harvard educational psychologist Carol Gilligan, whose book In a Different Voice caused a considerable stir both in the popular press and, more slowly, in the philosophical journals. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume 32, Number 1, April 2006, pp. 113-117 How Wide Is Hume's Circle? (A question raised by the exchange between Erin I. Kelly and Louis E. Loeb, Hume Studies, November 2004) ANNETTE C. BAIER Hume's version, in An Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, section 9,2 of the viewpoint from which moral assessments are made, and from which traits are recognized as virtues or vices, (...) is that it is one which activates a "universal principle of the human frame," the "principle of humanity." It displays "the force of many sympathies," and depends upon our possession of "some propensity to the good of mankind" (EPM 5.39; SBN 226). Does this represent a revision, on Hume's part, of his Treatise claim that sympathy with a person's "narrow circle" is what enables us to judge that person's moral goodness? A humanity-wide circle is scarcely "narrow," even if it is not wide enough for those who see our treatment of animals as relevant to our moral merit or demerit. The claim about sympathy with the narrow circle is made in the Treatise section "Of goodness and benevolence."3 It has recently been assuming the status of a definition of the Humean moral point of view, in some commentators' writings.4 If it had been so intended, then there would indeed be a revision in EPM, where there is no mention of narrow circles, merely two footnotes, 22 and 25, to the section "Why utility pleases," concerning the wisdom of confining our efforts to do good to those close to us, lest our efforts be "dissipated or lost for want of a properly limited object." But in fact Hume never claimed that sympathy with a Annette Baier formerly taught in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Pittsburgh, and is now retired. Email: [email protected]. 114 Annette C. Baier person's narrow circle was enough to enable us to recognize her bravery, her proper pride, her prudence, her good judgement, her wit, her integrity, her "justice" or her allegiance to lawful magistrates. It is needed only to judge her "goodness and benevolence. " (I take it that the title, "Of goodness and benevolence," is pleonastic, that the varieties of benevolence exhaust "goodness.") Just as benevolence is not the whole of virtue, for Hume, nor is "goodness." The section in which he uses the phrase, "narrow circle," begins with an explicit limitation of what is there to be discussed: "Having thus explained that praise and approbation for everything we call great in human affections, we now proceed to give an account of their goodness..." (T 3.3.3.1; SBN 602). "Good" is not, for Hume, the most general term of moral approbation. Just as we can judge some to be "too intrepid" (an ingredient in "greatness of mind"), so we can judge some to be "too good" (EPM 7.22; SBN 259). Hume's most general terms of approbation are "meritorious" and "estimable." He uses "good" in a restricted sense, for a person's possession of the group of virtues that come under "benevolence." In the Treatise 3.3.3.15 (SBN 581-82), he speaks not of one moral point of view, but of "steady and generalpoinrs of view" (my emphasis), and it is possible, indeed plausible, that sympathy with circles of different widths will be needed to recognize different virtues and groups of virtues. For some, such as justice, "extensive sympathy" (T 3.3.1.23; SBN 586) is needed. For others, such as affability, and other aspects of "goodness," we sympathize with the effects of the person's character on a less extensive circle. A good person is affable, generous, and kind, does well as friend, as parent, as neighbor, as colleague, as employer. She does considerate and helpful things to those she encounters, both those close to her, friends, family, and work-mates, and also to those to whom she is not so close, such as the needy in her own community, to whom she may give employment, or charity. Hume uses other phrases in Treatise 3.3 which are sometimes taken to refer to the same... (shrink)

Both a morality, like Kant's, which relies on wrongdoers' guilt feelings and expectation of punishment, as enforcement for its requirements, and one which, like Hume's, relies on the feelings of shame and expectation of their fellows' contempt which will be felt by those showing lack of the moral virtues, seem to merit the charge that morality is an intrinsically cruel institution. The prospects for a gentle non-punitive morality are explored, and Hume's views found more promising, for this purpose, than Kant's.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Artificial Virtues and the Equally Sensible Non-Knaves: A Response to Gauthier Annette C. Baier Gauthier's splendidly dialectical paper1 first sets out Hume's official Treatise account ofhow each personhas a self-interested motive to curb her natural but socially troublesome self-interest, by agreeing to the adoption ofthe artifices ofprivate property rights, transfer by consent, and promise (provided others are also agreeing to adopt them), andhow the sympathy-dependent moral sentiment (...) approves of such a redirection of"the interested passion." Enlightened self-interest gives us the natural obligation tojustice; the fact that it is morally approved turns it into a moral obligation. Self-hatred for any breaches of the moral obligation may come in to bolster the self-interested motivation, and this will be helped along by the extra artifices employed by educators and politicians. So far so good. But now enters the sensible knave, who queries the initial assumption that each will in fact gain more by strict conformity to the rules of the Humean social artifices than by occasional carefully calculated and undetected breaches of them. If the knave is right, then the Treatise story ofhow reasonable self-interested people can get themselves to conscientiously respect property rights (including rights ofbarter), and to keep promises, is in trouble. Only by an erroneous calculation of their interest could they end with the motivation which Hume attributes to them, and finds to be morally approvable.Gauthier argues that there are indications even in the Treatise that Hume is aware ofthe flawed nature ofhis official account, since he attributes "sophistry" to some attempted justifications of honest behaviour, and attributes "feigned acts" of impossible willing to some conscientious promise-keepers. Gauthier finds Hume to have, in the Treatise, a second, less official story ofwhat it takes to be motivated to be just—that it takes error, and letting oneself be taken in by feignings and sophistry. In the Enquiry Concerning the Principles ofMorals this submerged account surfaces in the sensible knave's challenge and Hume's admission that his own answer will not be satisfactory to the knave. The charms of official Humeanjustice, Gauthierconcludes, are spurious, sincethe "anatomy" of the account of the rational motivation to be just is known to be unsound. "The sensible knave's message is thathuman society... lacks any moral foundation." Volume XVIII Number 2 429 ANNETTE C. BAIER This is a sombre tale. One of its unwelcome implications is that Hume himself, really believing that the knave is right, but unwilling tobe seen tohave the bad grace to "dehver a theory, however true which... leads to a practice dangerous and pernicious," is simply trying to "sink" the knave's truth in oblivion by creating a smoke-screen of insincere rhetoric about the greater delights of consciousness of integrity over the knave's satisfaction in his ill-gotten gains. So there really are two sombre tales—one, attributed to Hume, about justice, and one about Hume's dupUcity (or is it mere cynical frivolity?): Gauthier crafts both stories beautifully, directing our attention to bits ofHume's text injust the right order for his dramatic purposes. But is he giving us truth or fiction? I completely agree with Gauthier's version of Hume's official Treatise story, that the moral obligation to justice supervenes on the "natural obligation" for which Hume believes the natural motivation to be collectively redirected self- (or family) interest.2 1 agree that there are one or two passages, especially in the Treatise section, "Of the obUgation of promises," that seem to jar with this account, and which much somehow be explained. I agree that Hume believes that his reply to the knave is, from the knave's point ofview, unsatisfactory. Now for some disagreements. First, about Hume's reply to the knave.3From the viewpointofthevirtuous dues-payingmemberof"the party of humankind," Hume's is a perfectly satisfactory reply. It will be plain truth, for a person with the other Humean virtues (including equity, which is listed as a natural virtue),4 that justice will bring as great or greater good than would judicious injustice. Even if it would be "simply preposterous" to believe that the social order is dangerously threatened by any... (shrink)

Berkeley says that "the making and unmaking of ideas doth very properly denominate the mind active." What did Berkeley take as the paradigm of that making which denominates mind active? He speaks in the same passage of exciting "ideas in my mind at pleasure," of varying and shifting the scene "as oft as I see fit. It is no more than willing and straightway this or that idea arises in my fancy." This quite clearly takes human idea-making to be fantasizing. (...) But if this is the only sort of making we are capable of, it is a poor model for that divine making which Berkeley wishes to obtain by "reflecting on my own soul, heightening its powers, and removing its imperfections." Ideas of the fancy are not strong, lively, vivid, nor real for other minds. Has Berkeley any other, better, human model for the divine making? In his Commonplace Book, Berkeley notes tersely, "We move our legs ourselves." This suggests that our voluntary actions could be taken by Berkeley as ideas made by us. This would at least give him a human model for that divine responsibility for something real, something strong, vivid, lively, something which other minds have no choice but to see, when in broad daylight they open their eyes from the appropriate vantage point. (shrink)

This chapter contains section titled: The Appendices The Analysis of Personal Merit The True Origin of Morals What Pleased the Author Final Note References Further Reading.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume 32, Number 1, April 2006, pp. 113-117 How Wide Is Hume's Circle? (A question raised by the exchange between Erin I. Kelly and Louis E. Loeb, Hume Studies, November 2004) ANNETTE C. BAIER Hume's version, in An Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, section 9,2 of the viewpoint from which moral assessments are made, and from which traits are recognized as virtues or vices, (...) is that it is one which activates a "universal principle of the human frame," the "principle of humanity." It displays "the force of many sympathies," and depends upon our possession of "some propensity to the good of mankind" (EPM 5.39; SBN 226). Does this represent a revision, on Hume's part, of his Treatise claim that sympathy with a person's "narrow circle" is what enables us to judge that person's moral goodness? A humanity-wide circle is scarcely "narrow," even if it is not wide enough for those who see our treatment of animals as relevant to our moral merit or demerit. The claim about sympathy with the narrow circle is made in the Treatise section "Of goodness and benevolence."3 It has recently been assuming the status of a definition of the Humean moral point of view, in some commentators' writings.4 If it had been so intended, then there would indeed be a revision in EPM, where there is no mention of narrow circles, merely two footnotes, 22 and 25, to the section "Why utility pleases," concerning the wisdom of confining our efforts to do good to those close to us, lest our efforts be "dissipated or lost for want of a properly limited object." But in fact Hume never claimed that sympathy with a Annette Baier formerly taught in the Department of Philosophy at the University of Pittsburgh, and is now retired. Email: [email protected]. 114 Annette C. Baier person's narrow circle was enough to enable us to recognize her bravery, her proper pride, her prudence, her good judgement, her wit, her integrity, her "justice" or her allegiance to lawful magistrates. It is needed only to judge her "goodness and benevolence. " (I take it that the title, "Of goodness and benevolence," is pleonastic, that the varieties of benevolence exhaust "goodness.") Just as benevolence is not the whole of virtue, for Hume, nor is "goodness." The section in which he uses the phrase, "narrow circle," begins with an explicit limitation of what is there to be discussed: "Having thus explained that praise and approbation for everything we call great in human affections, we now proceed to give an account of their goodness..." (T 3.3.3.1; SBN 602). "Good" is not, for Hume, the most general term of moral approbation. Just as we can judge some to be "too intrepid" (an ingredient in "greatness of mind"), so we can judge some to be "too good" (EPM 7.22; SBN 259). Hume's most general terms of approbation are "meritorious" and "estimable." He uses "good" in a restricted sense, for a person's possession of the group of virtues that come under "benevolence." In the Treatise 3.3.3.15 (SBN 581-82), he speaks not of one moral point of view, but of "steady and generalpoinrs of view" (my emphasis), and it is possible, indeed plausible, that sympathy with circles of different widths will be needed to recognize different virtues and groups of virtues. For some, such as justice, "extensive sympathy" (T 3.3.1.23; SBN 586) is needed. For others, such as affability, and other aspects of "goodness," we sympathize with the effects of the person's character on a less extensive circle. A good person is affable, generous, and kind, does well as friend, as parent, as neighbor, as colleague, as employer. She does considerate and helpful things to those she encounters, both those close to her, friends, family, and work-mates, and also to those to whom she is not so close, such as the needy in her own community, to whom she may give employment, or charity. Hume uses other phrases in Treatise 3.3 which are sometimes taken to refer to the same... (shrink)

Philosophers have always seen at least part of their job to be social criticism, where by that I mean not necessarily negative assessment of existing social practices, but rather the attempt to understand them, to see existing local ones against a background of other possibilities. Included among these surveyed practices are, or should be, practices of justification and criticism, our own included. Socrates set the standard when, in the Apology and Crito he turned his method on his own activity, both (...) defending it and also showing understanding and acceptance of the judgment of those who condemned it. Most of us, after Socrates, have tried to emulate his self-conscious attention to philosophical method, but usually only to intellectual methods of reasoning, rarely following him in consciousness of the social role we play, and its relation to the whole network of roles in which it is embedded. Yet if our own activity is to justify itself, that justification surely depends upon the relation between what we are doing and the work done by others, including those who support us in the crude economic sense. It is not easy to survey the whole scheme of social roles and to consider alternative ways of dividing the social labor, but philosophers have often claimed to have synoptic vision. No greater hubris is involved in trying synoptically to survey a society's array of social roles, and its alternatives, than in purporting to produce moral principles valid in all conditions, or truths for all possible worlds. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Studies Volume XX, Number 2, November 1994, pp. 211-218 Symposium A version of this paper was presented at the symposium on A Progress of Sentiments by Annette C. Baier, held at the Pacific Division Meetings of the American Philosophical Association, Los Angeles, March 1994. Response to My Critics ANNETTE C. BAIER I thank my critics for their generous compliments on what they find good (...) about my book, and thank them even more for their criticisms. Both my critics query the role given to reason, in my version of Hume's version of our nature. If David Owen is right, I downplay Hume's scepticism, in Treatise Book I, about what we can expect of what he there calls our reason, and, if Rachel Cohon is right, I downplay Hume's scepticism in Books II and III about the role of reason in our passionate and active lives. Cohon even charges that my Hume is barely distinguishable from Samuel Clarke. Grave charges! In response, I want first to concede that in A Progress of Sentiments I should have given more space to the section "Of scepticism with regard to reason" than I did, and that, even though I did not purport to more than touch on Hume's attitude to other philosophers, I should have more explicitly acknowledged the background role of Clarke as Hume's target, throughout the Treatise, and given more emphasis to Hume's anti-religious aims, which I mention from time to time, but do not dwell on. I could also have given more prominence to Hume's treatment of liberty and necessity, and have said a bit more about Hume's section, "Morality not based on reason." As Rachel Cohon says, I dismiss what, for some, is the distinctively Humean claim that morals excite passions and produce or prevent actions as largely an ad hominem move against rationalists who expect their pronouncements about eternal fitnesses, or divine commands, to produce or prevent actions, possibly by exciting fear of divine punishment. The Humean moral sentiment, I claimed, is not an Annette C. Baier is at the Department of Philosophy, University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh PA 15260 USA. 212 Annette C. Baier especially motivating passion, although it does normally produce good will towards those whose character traits it approves, and some dislike of those whose character traits are disapproved. So it may excite some self-dislike, when it is our own character that we find distasteful, or produce some pride, if we pass muster. Hume writes: "There may perhaps, be some, who being accustom 'd to the style of the schools and pulpit, and having never consider'd human nature in any other light than that in which they place it, may here be surpriz'd to hear me talk of virtue as exciting pride, which they look on as a vice..." (T 297). So Humean morals does often excite passions. But pride and humility, Hume claims, are "compleat in themselves," not "attended with any desire" (T 367), so are not directly motivating passions. And even the love and hatred that are felt towards fellow persons for their virtues and vices may, as motivating influences on the will, have to compete with other loves, such as esteem for the rich and powerful. Hume is a realistic and often rather cynical moralist, and has no easy story about how the moral sentiment can produce the virtues of which it approves. Still, there is some active power in the moral sentiment. It is an impression, namely a sentiment or "peculiar pleasure," not an idea, and so not a belief. In my book I first contrasted Humean sentiments with beliefs in Chapter 1, discussing the conclusion of Book I, and then continued to discuss passions in Chapter 2, on association. There it is said plainly enough that, for Hume, it is pleasure and pain on which most of our passions are founded. (He exempts some instinctive desires.) His own decision to continue with his philosophical journey, after the near shipwreck of Part 4 of Book I, is based, he claims, on the fact that he would be the loser in point of pleasure if he inhibited his philosophical impulses. But... (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: References.

Adam Smith’s famous account of Hume’s death, in his letter to Strahan, included a reference to what Hume had been reading shortly before his death, Lucian’s “Dialogues of the Dead.” But when one reads those, one becomes puzzled by Smith’s report that Hume had been trying out excuses to delay death, for no such scene occurs in those Lucian dialogues. Fortunately Smith’s was not the only letter written about exactly what Lucian dialogue Hume was reading.

We want to know about philosophers’ lives in part to see how they applied their philosophy to their own lives. Plato’s account of Socrates’ life, trial, and death sets a great example here, perhaps never equalled, just as few philosophers equal Socrates in integrity and courage.

We want to know about philosophers’ lives in part to see how they applied their philosophy to their own lives. Plato’s account of Socrates’ life, trial, and death sets a great example here, perhaps never equalled, just as few philosophers equal Socrates in integrity and courage.

At the end of part 3 of Book 1 of his Treatise,1 Hume had given a touchstone by which to judge any account of the human mind, namely that, where other animals appear to display the same cognitive operation that we do, our account applies as well to them as to us.2 He tests his own account of causal inference this way and finds that it comes through with flying colors, since the effects of experience of constant conjunctions on animal (...) minds is just as he has claimed it to be on ours. Some of their actions, such as nest building and sitting on their eggs till they hatch, are "extraordinary instances of sagacity", but on other matters, they, like us, learn from experience, so that the older one. (shrink)

Hume's sections on the reason of animals are considered. He claims that animals show what we find extraordinary sagacity, in nest building and migration, as well as needing to learn many things from experience, just as we do. He issues a challenge to any rival account of our own powers to do as well or better than he does in accounting for the continuities, and discontinuities, between animal and human cognitive achievements. Yet when he looks at our ability to recognize (...) familiar lasting things, only in the Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding does he allow that animals do this just as we do. Does his Treatise account of what exactly we do, noting constancies and coherence in our impressions, so overlooking interruption and disguising variation, fail his own touchstone? (shrink)

Childhood and youth: loss of faith and a passion for literature -- "At a distance from relations": writing his treatise in France -- Hume after the treatise -- Hume as librarian and historian -- Hume's life as a man in the public eye -- Hume's final years in Edinburgh -- Death and character.