METAPHYSIC OF MORALS
1. On the end-in-itself formulation, why is suicide immoral?

Notes that needs to use

Lecture: Schiller’s Criticism
Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805) was a German “man of letters.” A contemporary of Kant, he lived in a time when, as my professor Dr. von Schoenborn used to say, “you knew something special was happening because philosophers were writing poetry and poets were writing philosophy.”
Schiller famously criticized Kant’s position regarding moral worth by joking, “I must try to hate my friends so that my doing them good, which now I gladly do, will acquire moral worth.” But of course, what Schiller meant was that such a view is absurd. As he understands it, Kant’s view is that when I do something gladly, i.e., because I want to, then the action has no moral worth. For instance, if my best friend needs my help I help him; but I don’t help him because I ought to! I do it because he is my friend. Does that mean my act lacks moral worth (on Kant’s view)? Would it be better if I didn’t care at all for the guy who needs my help and I only help because I ought?
Unfortunately, while amusing, Schiller’s joke is based on a misunderstanding of Kant. Kant never said that in order for an act to have moral worth, one must lack an inclination or desire to perform the act. What he said was that in order to have moral worth, the act must not be done solely based on an inclination. Moral worth requires the presence of a motive of duty, i.e., one does it because it is the right thing to do. The problem is when it is an act that I am also motivated to do from desire. In order for the act to have moral worth, it must be the case that I would still perform the act even if I did not want to; even if I lacked the inclination to do it, I still would because it is the right thing to do.
So consider again my example of the friend who needs my help. Does my helping him have moral worth? After all, I want to help him. “It depends,” says Kant. “Would you still help him even if you didn’t want to? Would you still do it because it is the right thing to do?” If yes, then the act has moral worth.
To sum up, Schiller’s mistake is that he believes that the presence or absence of a corresponding inclination to perform the action is relevant. But it isn’t. Inclinations or desires are morally irrelevant. What matters is that you perform the act because it is the right thing to do. Sometimes, the right thing to do is also what you want to do (Yay!). Other times, you are not so lucky. “Too bad,” says Kant. “Do it anyway.”
What a Piece of Work is Man
“What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god!” ~Hamlet by Shakespeare
What sort of thing are you and I? To many, and certainly to Kant, it seems obvious that we are fundamentally different from the other animals. Many animals have brains and sophisticated nervous systems and can be said to be aware or conscious. But you and I have more than that: we are strangely aware of being aware. That is to say, we are self-conscious. It does not appear that any other being has that (experts still disagree about what exactly is happening with apes being taught language).
Kant, along with other philosophers and theologians, believes that with this self-consciousness comes something else: free will. You and I possess the ability to self-determine, i.e., be autonomous (Greek auto: self, nomos: law or legislation—literally self-legislating). We do so rationally, that is for reasons. Unlike other organisms, we do not merely react to stimuli based on instinct and conditioning. But neither are we capricious. We give ourselves rules to live by.
However, we are still natural beings. We are situated in the world and we “inhabit” physical bodies. As such, we have desires or inclinations. Nature provides for us motivations to act in the same way that it does for squirrels and chickens. The difference is that we are free to act upon these desires or not.
Now suppose an entity much like us but without this natural side; imagine a being with self-consciousness and free will who lacked promptings from any outside source as to what to do. This being is what Kant calls “perfectly rational.” According to Kant, this being would always act according to the objective principle of reason, i.e., the formal maxim: I will always act in such a way that my act could serve as a universal law for all rational beings. Since no other way of acting would ever even occur to it, it will always choose the formal maxim.
But for you and I it is different. While we understand that in so far as we are rational beings we are guided by the formal maxim, we are also given motivations, i.e., desires, from our natural side. We are imperfectly rational. We might live by the formal maxim or we might not! Frequently we do not live in such a way that everyone could also live that way because it contradicts what we want. We let nature tell us what to do rather than following our rational will.
Because of this, the encounter with the formal maxim for you and I is different than it is for the perfectly rational being. We experience the formal maxim as an imperative. We have to be commanded. Since we have other motivations that are provided by an external source, it is not simply that I will only perform acts that could serve as universal laws; instead, it is “I ought only perform acts that could serve as universal laws.” Because I am imperfectly rational, the formal maxim is the categorical imperative: only perform actions that could serve as universal laws for all other rational beings.
As Kant says on p. 80, “That is to say, the relation of the objective laws to a will not good through and through is conceived as one in which the will of a rational being, although it is determined by principles of reason, does not necessarily follow these principles in virtue of its own nature.” Reason has to command us to live rightly because we might not.

METAPHYSIC OF MORALS
1. On the end-in-itself formulation, why is suicide immoral?

Notes that needs to use

Lecture: Schiller’s Criticism
Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805) was a German “man of letters.” A contemporary of Kant, he lived in a time when, as my professor Dr. von Schoenborn used to say, “you knew something special was happening because philosophers were writing poetry and poets were writing philosophy.”
Schiller famously criticized Kant’s position regarding moral worth by joking, “I must try to hate my friends so that my doing them good, which now I gladly do, will acquire moral worth.” But of course, what Schiller meant was that such a view is absurd. As he understands it, Kant’s view is that when I do something gladly, i.e., because I want to, then the action has no moral worth. For instance, if my best friend needs my help I help him; but I don’t help him because I ought to! I do it because he is my friend. Does that mean my act lacks moral worth (on Kant’s view)? Would it be better if I didn’t care at all for the guy who needs my help and I only help because I ought?
Unfortunately, while amusing, Schiller’s joke is based on a misunderstanding of Kant. Kant never said that in order for an act to have moral worth, one must lack an inclination or desire to perform the act. What he said was that in order to have moral worth, the act must not be done solely based on an inclination. Moral worth requires the presence of a motive of duty, i.e., one does it because it is the right thing to do. The problem is when it is an act that I am also motivated to do from desire. In order for the act to have moral worth, it must be the case that I would still perform the act even if I did not want to; even if I lacked the inclination to do it, I still would because it is the right thing to do.
So consider again my example of the friend who needs my help. Does my helping him have moral worth? After all, I want to help him. “It depends,” says Kant. “Would you still help him even if you didn’t want to? Would you still do it because it is the right thing to do?” If yes, then the act has moral worth.
To sum up, Schiller’s mistake is that he believes that the presence or absence of a corresponding inclination to perform the action is relevant. But it isn’t. Inclinations or desires are morally irrelevant. What matters is that you perform the act because it is the right thing to do. Sometimes, the right thing to do is also what you want to do (Yay!). Other times, you are not so lucky. “Too bad,” says Kant. “Do it anyway.”
What a Piece of Work is Man
“What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god!” ~Hamlet by Shakespeare
What sort of thing are you and I? To many, and certainly to Kant, it seems obvious that we are fundamentally different from the other animals. Many animals have brains and sophisticated nervous systems and can be said to be aware or conscious. But you and I have more than that: we are strangely aware of being aware. That is to say, we are self-conscious. It does not appear that any other being has that (experts still disagree about what exactly is happening with apes being taught language).
Kant, along with other philosophers and theologians, believes that with this self-consciousness comes something else: free will. You and I possess the ability to self-determine, i.e., be autonomous (Greek auto: self, nomos: law or legislation—literally self-legislating). We do so rationally, that is for reasons. Unlike other organisms, we do not merely react to stimuli based on instinct and conditioning. But neither are we capricious. We give ourselves rules to live by.
However, we are still natural beings. We are situated in the world and we “inhabit” physical bodies. As such, we have desires or inclinations. Nature provides for us motivations to act in the same way that it does for squirrels and chickens. The difference is that we are free to act upon these desires or not.
Now suppose an entity much like us but without this natural side; imagine a being with self-consciousness and free will who lacked promptings from any outside source as to what to do. This being is what Kant calls “perfectly rational.” According to Kant, this being would always act according to the objective principle of reason, i.e., the formal maxim: I will always act in such a way that my act could serve as a universal law for all rational beings. Since no other way of acting would ever even occur to it, it will always choose the formal maxim.
But for you and I it is different. While we understand that in so far as we are rational beings we are guided by the formal maxim, we are also given motivations, i.e., desires, from our natural side. We are imperfectly rational. We might live by the formal maxim or we might not! Frequently we do not live in such a way that everyone could also live that way because it contradicts what we want. We let nature tell us what to do rather than following our rational will.
Because of this, the encounter with the formal maxim for you and I is different than it is for the perfectly rational being. We experience the formal maxim as an imperative. We have to be commanded. Since we have other motivations that are provided by an external source, it is not simply that I will only perform acts that could serve as universal laws; instead, it is “I ought only perform acts that could serve as universal laws.” Because I am imperfectly rational, the formal maxim is the categorical imperative: only perform actions that could serve as universal laws for all other rational beings.
As Kant says on p. 80, “That is to say, the relation of the objective laws to a will not good through and through is conceived as one in which the will of a rational being, although it is determined by principles of reason, does not necessarily follow these principles in virtue of its own nature.” Reason has to command us to live rightly because we might not.

METAPHYSIC OF MORALS
1. On the end-in-itself formulation, why is suicide immoral?

Notes that needs to use

Lecture: Schiller’s Criticism
Friedrich Schiller (1759-1805) was a German “man of letters.” A contemporary of Kant, he lived in a time when, as my professor Dr. von Schoenborn used to say, “you knew something special was happening because philosophers were writing poetry and poets were writing philosophy.”
Schiller famously criticized Kant’s position regarding moral worth by joking, “I must try to hate my friends so that my doing them good, which now I gladly do, will acquire moral worth.” But of course, what Schiller meant was that such a view is absurd. As he understands it, Kant’s view is that when I do something gladly, i.e., because I want to, then the action has no moral worth. For instance, if my best friend needs my help I help him; but I don’t help him because I ought to! I do it because he is my friend. Does that mean my act lacks moral worth (on Kant’s view)? Would it be better if I didn’t care at all for the guy who needs my help and I only help because I ought?
Unfortunately, while amusing, Schiller’s joke is based on a misunderstanding of Kant. Kant never said that in order for an act to have moral worth, one must lack an inclination or desire to perform the act. What he said was that in order to have moral worth, the act must not be done solely based on an inclination. Moral worth requires the presence of a motive of duty, i.e., one does it because it is the right thing to do. The problem is when it is an act that I am also motivated to do from desire. In order for the act to have moral worth, it must be the case that I would still perform the act even if I did not want to; even if I lacked the inclination to do it, I still would because it is the right thing to do.
So consider again my example of the friend who needs my help. Does my helping him have moral worth? After all, I want to help him. “It depends,” says Kant. “Would you still help him even if you didn’t want to? Would you still do it because it is the right thing to do?” If yes, then the act has moral worth.
To sum up, Schiller’s mistake is that he believes that the presence or absence of a corresponding inclination to perform the action is relevant. But it isn’t. Inclinations or desires are morally irrelevant. What matters is that you perform the act because it is the right thing to do. Sometimes, the right thing to do is also what you want to do (Yay!). Other times, you are not so lucky. “Too bad,” says Kant. “Do it anyway.”
What a Piece of Work is Man
“What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god!” ~Hamlet by Shakespeare
What sort of thing are you and I? To many, and certainly to Kant, it seems obvious that we are fundamentally different from the other animals. Many animals have brains and sophisticated nervous systems and can be said to be aware or conscious. But you and I have more than that: we are strangely aware of being aware. That is to say, we are self-conscious. It does not appear that any other being has that (experts still disagree about what exactly is happening with apes being taught language).
Kant, along with other philosophers and theologians, believes that with this self-consciousness comes something else: free will. You and I possess the ability to self-determine, i.e., be autonomous (Greek auto: self, nomos: law or legislation—literally self-legislating). We do so rationally, that is for reasons. Unlike other organisms, we do not merely react to stimuli based on instinct and conditioning. But neither are we capricious. We give ourselves rules to live by.
However, we are still natural beings. We are situated in the world and we “inhabit” physical bodies. As such, we have desires or inclinations. Nature provides for us motivations to act in the same way that it does for squirrels and chickens. The difference is that we are free to act upon these desires or not.
Now suppose an entity much like us but without this natural side; imagine a being with self-consciousness and free will who lacked promptings from any outside source as to what to do. This being is what Kant calls “perfectly rational.” According to Kant, this being would always act according to the objective principle of reason, i.e., the formal maxim: I will always act in such a way that my act could serve as a universal law for all rational beings. Since no other way of acting would ever even occur to it, it will always choose the formal maxim.
But for you and I it is different. While we understand that in so far as we are rational beings we are guided by the formal maxim, we are also given motivations, i.e., desires, from our natural side. We are imperfectly rational. We might live by the formal maxim or we might not! Frequently we do not live in such a way that everyone could also live that way because it contradicts what we want. We let nature tell us what to do rather than following our rational will.
Because of this, the encounter with the formal maxim for you and I is different than it is for the perfectly rational being. We experience the formal maxim as an imperative. We have to be commanded. Since we have other motivations that are provided by an external source, it is not simply that I will only perform acts that could serve as universal laws; instead, it is “I ought only perform acts that could serve as universal laws.” Because I am imperfectly rational, the formal maxim is the categorical imperative: only perform actions that could serve as universal laws for all other rational beings.
As Kant says on p. 80, “That is to say, the relation of the objective laws to a will not good through and through is conceived as one in which the will of a rational being, although it is determined by principles of reason, does not necessarily follow these principles in virtue of its own nature.” Reason has to command us to live rightly because we might not.