Hume in Japan

Alexander Flavin

David Hume’s Enquiries concerning the Principles of Morals is the second enquiry

written by the Scottish philosopher. In My Own Life, a short autobiography, Hume says that it

was written from 1749-1751 in a country house, along with the Political Discourses. He further

describes it as “… another part of my Treatise that I cast anew” (MOL 9). This period of intense

writing followed a period of Hume’s life which had seen him declined for the Chair of Moral

Philosophy at Edinburgh University, dismissal from a tutorship, employment as a secretary and

aide-de-camp to Lt. General Sinclair in a military expedition that was bound for Canada and

ended up in France. After this abortive military expedition, Hume returned to his family home in

the country, only to be invited once again to accompany Lt. General Sinclair as his aide-de-camp

on a diplomatic mission to the Court of the King in Sardinia at Turin. The consequent travel gave

Hume the chance to see and examine many different countries, cultures, and courts in Europe.

The exposure to the diversity of cultures that could be found in such a small geographical area

challenged Hume’s assumptions and led to the development of his mature political theory, and

also greatly increased the breadth of experience he could call on to form his moral theory. The

influence of this travel can be seen through ‘a journal of a sort’ which he kept throughout his

travels on the continent (HL. i. 114). “Reading the journal alongside Hume’s earlier and later

writing, one gains the distinct impression that travel seems to have had a transformative effect on

Hume and challenged him to transcend the confines of conventional categories, which he too had

employed in his political science.”1,2

1 Baumstark, Moritz. “The biographical background of the second Enquiry,” p. 6. Web. http://people.rit.edu/wlrgsh/Baumstark.pdf 2 Background information drawn from Baumstark, pgs. 1-7

Yet with all his travel and experiences to draw from, Hume was limited to Europe, the

West, and a typically Occidental culture. He had no opportunity to travel outside of this sphere of

influence; few did. He does not, however, place any limitation upon his writing or his claims; he

claims that the basis of his theory is found in the features of a univeral human nature. If this is

true, then Hume’s moral system should be found regardless of the culture of an area or the time

period which we examine. Hume addresses this issue in several places in his writing. In his

Dialogues, one of his characters exclaims, “What wide difference, therefore, in the sentiments of

morals, must be found between civilized nations and Barbarians, or between nations whose

characters have little in common? How shall we pretend to fix a standard for judgements of this

nature?” (D 25; SBN 333) This question becomes all the more pressing when the vast differences

between Eastern civilizations and Western civilizations are taken into account. Hume’s solution

is proposed shortly afterwards in the Dialogues. “By tracing matters, replied I, a little higher, and

examining the first principles, which each nation establishes, of blame or censure. The RHINE

flows north, the RHONE south; yet both spring from the same mountain, and are also actuated,

in their opposite directions, by the same principle of gravity. The different inclinations of the

ground, on which they run, cause all the difference of their course.” (D26, SBN 333) The

purpose of this paper will be to examine the different inclinations of the ground upon which the

waters of morality run and determine whether they spring from the same mountain of ethics and

are guided by the same principles of morality.

The work that will be used to contrast with Hume is regarded as a classic introduction to

Japanese culture and history. The Chrysanthemum and the Sword: Patterns of Japanese Culture

was written in 1946 by American anthropologist Ruth Benedict at the request of the U.S. Office

of War Information. It was to be used to understand and therefore be able to predict the behavior

of the Japanese in and after World War II by reference to the seeming contradictions in their

traditional culture. As she writes in the second page, the Japanese are “both aggressive and

unaggressive, both militaristic and aesthetic, both insolent and polite, rigid and adaptable,

submissive and resentful of being pushed around, loyal and treacherous, brave and timid,

conservative and hospitable to new ways.” By exploring these contradictions and other

questions, Benedict painted a picture of Japanese, culture, ethics, and morality.3

In order to compare the moral system of the Japanese as depicted in The Chrysanthemum

and the Sword and the moral system constructed by Hume in Enquiries Concerning the

Principles of Morals, we must first understand both systems. Let’s begin with Hume.

Hume opens his second Enquiry with a section called “Of the General Principles of

Morals.” In it, he lays out a foundation for the entire work to come, beginning by establishing the

existence of moral distinctions. In essence, he argues that everyday life cannot be lived without

using the moral distinctions that some try to deny, thus leading to the deniers effectively

contradicting themselves. Hume next addresses the issue of the foundation of his moral system.

The main issue here is whether the aforementioned moral distinctions are derived from the use of

reason, or some manner of sentiment. In this paragraph, Hume asks the question which prepares

the ground for his Enquiry:

“There has been a controversy started of late, much better worth examination, concerning

the general foundation of Morals; whether they be derived from Reason, or from Sentiment;

whether we attain the knowledge of them by a chain of argument and induction, or by an

immediate feeling and finer internal sense’ whether, like all sound judgment of truth and

3Information drawn from Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Chrysanthemum_and_the_Sword. 11/10/15. Web

falsehood, they should be the same to every rational intelligent being; or whether, like the

perception of beauty and deformity, they be founded entirely on the particular fabric and

constitution of the human species.” (EPM 1.3)

Here it should be noted that Hume has previously argued at length against the proposition

that reason can be the sole basis of morality. His principal argument here is that an active

principle (morality) cannot be based upon an inactive principle (reason). “As long as it is

allow’d, that reason has no influence on our passions and actions, ‘tis in vain to pretend, that

morality is discover’d only by a deduction of reason.” (T III.1.5) This means that morality is

derived from sentiment, and like the perceptions of beauty and deformity, these sentiments are

founded on the constitution of the human species. Furthermore, according to Hume, the purpose

of morality “…is to teach us our duty; and by proper representations of the deformity of vice and

the beauty of virtue, beget correspondent habits, and engage us to avoid the one, and embrace the

other.” (EPM 1.7) Having established what he views as the general principle of morality and

purpose which it serves, Hume uses the Enquiry to catalog what are regarded as virtues and

vices, grouping them together in an empirical attempt to determine the reasons they are regarded

as virtuous or vicious.

Addressed in this fashion are benevolence, justice, and a catalog of other qualities which

Hume finds to be virtuous. Over and over again, the over-arching theme of these qualities are the

sentiments that Hume notes each particular virtue or vice evokes. Virtues are pleasing to look

upon and vices generally found distasteful. Through this natural censure of the vices and

approbation of the virtues, Hume delineates one from the other and claims that it is human nature

to feel this way. From this examinations, Hume outlines four qualifications that can be used to

distinguish virtues from vices. Virtues are determined to be that which is useful to ourselves or

others, or that which is agreeable to ourselves or others. By consideration of these four principles

the virtues and vices can be sorted. To demonstrate this, let us consider benevolence.

Benevolence is regarded as a virtue of the highest order by Hume, and it is the first

specific virtue that he covers in his empirical approach. “The epithets sociable, good-natured,

humane, merciful, grateful, friendly, generous, beneficent, or their equivalents, are known in all

languages, and universally express the highest merit, which human nature is capable of

attaining.” (EPM 2.1) From this we see that Hume includes many of the more common social

virtues under the category of benevolence and believes that there are no other virtues which

engage the sentiment in such a positive manner as benevolence. He goes on to try to find the

reason why benevolence is regarded with such a positive response and finds a partial answer in

utility. Any time benevolence is observed, Hume says, we do not fail to note the happiness and

satisfaction that is derived to society. From this we can see that benevolence derives some of its

virtue from being useful to ourselves or to others. Yet utility is not the only source of this

happiness. If it were, then these qualities would have never been valued before a society

emerged, and why would a society value ideas that it has no concepts of? “The social virtues

must, therefore, be allowed to have a natural beauty and amiableness, which, at first, antecedent

to all precept or education, recommends them to the esteem of uninstructed mankind, and

engages their affectations.” (EPM 5.1.4) Therefore, benevolence also derives some of its virtue

through being agreeable to ourselves or others.

Hume spends the later sections of his Enquiry delving more deeply into the moral

qualities that can be described using these four tendencies: to be useful to ourselves or others, or

to be agreeable to ourselves and others. Each tendency has its own place, and this place cannot

be accurately represented by each of the others. Things which we find agreeable must not also be

useful because we find them agreeable, and things which we find useful must not always be

agreeable because they are useful. In order to illustrate this divide, let us consider the case of a

man who is excellent at his job but is lacking in social skills. He is greatly useful and so scores

highly in usefulness to others. At the same time, he scores very low in agreeability to others. If

utility was valued more than agreeableness, then we might judge this man to be the pinnacle of

virtue. If instead we valued agreeability instead of utility, then this man would be the picture of

vice. Carefully examining our moral reaction to the proposed situation reveals that we do not

regard one category as overruling the other; instead we judge that he is good in one way and bad

in another.

What does this reveal about Hume’s system of morals? How does it explain the situation

where one is virtuous in one area but simultaneously is vicious in another? We find the answer to

be that Hume’s moral system is a multiplist moral system,or one that “affirms a multitude of

ends that conflict with each other but [denies] any strict or lexical ordering.”4 Hume’s system

advocates that there is more than one ultimate moral principle that one can desire to fulfill and

that these principles can conflict and give different guidance in any given situation. There is also

no set order in which the principles should be valued. When we consider again the four

tendencies which describe Humean virtues and examine the relationships between them we find

that they are independent of each other. By knowing how much a quality is valued as useful to

oneself, we cannot determine how much it is useful or agreeable to others. Each tendency is

independent of the others, and they can either agree or conflict in any given situation. For

example, benevolence is useful to ourselves and others and agreeable to ourselves and others.

4 Gill, Humean Moral Pluralism, pg. 3

However, a quality like pride might be agreeable and useful to its possessor, but be disagreeable

and not useful to others.

By embracing this pluralistic view of morality Hume gives an accurate description of

many of the problems and feelings which we might encounter in any given situation. He creates

a relative system of ethics that requires careful consideration and balancing of the tendencies or

moral ends which are in conflict before coming to a conclusion. It accommodates a wide range

of situations, and there is no given right approach to prioritizing one tendency over the others.

For example, in some places in his writing Hume suggests that common sense judgment often

values public utility, usefulness to others, as being the dominant factor in our judgment:

whenever a moral dilemma arises, people tend to think that the answer is what would best serve

the public good. Hume also acknowledges, however, that there are situations where public utility

or utility in general must be given up. In his Dialogues, he writes “It is needless to dissemble…

We must sacrifice somewhat of the useful, if we be very anxious to obtain all of the agreeable

qualities; and cannot pretend to reach alike every kind of advantage.” (D 47) He then goes on to

suggest that the balance between usefulness and agreeableness is different in different cultures

and that this is the cause of much of the variation that is observed in the moral systems of

different cultures.

Now let us consider Japanese ethics and morals as described in the Chrysanthemum and

the Sword.5 This system is best considered as a system of hierarchical obligation, and both its

purposes and its organization are complex, made more so by the difficulties of a linguistic barrier

and a cultural barrier. Virtue is achieved by fulfilling these obligations in the applicable parts of

5 It is important to note that we will limit ourselves entirely to the system of ethics described in this book and we make no claim to be an expert on Japanese morals and ethics as they actually are today.

one’s life. To begin, let us try to understand the system of obligation which the Japanese use. The

best metaphor, says Benedict, for an American to understand the Japanese system of obligations

is that of a financial transaction. There are many types of obligations, some of which are primary

and ever-present, and some of which must be quantified and repaid in exacting measure.

The highest order of obligation that the Japanese carry is called on; this kind of obligation

is passively incurred, beginning at birth and continuing for the rest of life. It is a debt, and must

be repaid, but the repayments are regarded as falling into another category of morals. There are

distinctly different categories of on: there is on that is limitless, and there is on that is

quantitative. On is received from the Emperor, from one’s parents, from one’s lord, and from

one’s teacher. The limitless repayment of this on is called gimu and it is said “One never repays

one ten-thousandth of (this) on.” This is regarded as one’s lot in life and is compulsory and

unconditional, to the point where gimu is used also to mean required. Gimu to the emperor is

called chu, and is duty to the Emperor, the law, and Japan. Ko is duty to one’s parents and

ancestors, and by implication, one’s descendants.

Chu is regarded as a supreme virtue and is considered a personal repayment of obligation

to the supreme symbol of the Emperor, who is at the top of the hierarchy in Japan. He can be

compared to the flag, in the sense that it is a symbol of our country and what it stands for, but

because the Emperor is human and can respond the bond forms much deeper. Indeed, of all

Japanese captured during the war or interviewed in America, only three spoke of the Emperor in

less than approving terms. The phrase “He speaks for the Emperor” is a powerful phrase that

invokes this debt of chu and may be one of the most powerful sanctions a modern state can

evoke. Benedict describes an incident that occurred in peacetime: An officer took his regiment

out for a march with orders not to drink from their canteens without his permission. After a great

deal of marching that day, twenty men fell out from thirst or exhaustion. Five died. When all the

men’s canteens were examined they were found to be full, untouched. The officer had given the

command; he had spoken for the Emperor. In a civil sense, chu touches everything from death to

taxes. Obeying the law as set and paying taxes are regarded as a repayment of this highest debt to

the Emperor. The ultimate example of chu is found in the end of the war in the Pacific. The

Emperor spoke, the war ended, and occupying troops were greeted with courtesy by those who

had once sworn to fight to the death with bamboo spears to prevent their occupation.

Another form of repayment of obligations is regarded as giri. These debts are repaid with

mathematical equivalence, and there are time limits involved which must be met. These are often

regarded as the “debts which are hardest to bear,” and it is a very hard category to define. The

first broad category in this obligation is giri-to-the-world, and it includes duties to the liege lord,

duties to the family that one has married into, and duties to family that is not closely related

enough to be considered under the more important obligation of ko – aunts, uncles, nieces,

nephews. Also included in this category are duties to non-related persons due to on received,

such as a gift, a favor, or work contributed. A rough summation of the obligations of this

category would be the fulfillment of contractual relations. The second broad category in this

obligation is giri-to-one’s-name, which can be compared to the Prussian codes of honor. This

category includes the duty to clear one’s reputation after an insult or an implication of failure.

Included in this are the duties of vendetta and feuding, and these evening of scores are not

regarded as aggressions as they would be in Western culture. There is also a duty to admit no

professional failures or ignorance, and one’s duty to fulfill the proprieties: respect behavior, not

living above one’s station in life, and curbing emotional displays on inappropriate occasions.

These categories can cover things as far ranging as gratitude for an old kindness to the duty of

revenge.

It is also important to note the context in which these two obligations are portrayed.

Gimu, though it may make many difficult demands upon an individual, is a group of duties

within the immediate circle of family and to the Emperor who stands as a symbol for his country

and of the country’s way of life. These strong ties are bound at birth. Giri, however, is rendered

in an all-Japanese dictionary as “righteous way; the road human beings should follow; something

one does unwillingly to forestall apology to the world.”6 Key in this definition is “unwillingly.”

They say they are “tangled with giri,” a phrase which is translated to mean “I am obliged to it.”

Other common usages are “He forced me with giri,” “He cornered me with giri,” and other

similar phrases. This essentially means that someone has invoked an on or debt in order to get

someone to do something they did not want or intend to do. As such, the rules of repaying giri

are not regarded as moral rules in respect to which the West views moral rules. They can again

be more understood by comparing them to the rules of finance that we have in America. When a

person defaults on their debt, we declare them bankrupt, a harsh penalty. We do not, however,

apply the same level of strictness to favors received or given or a nice word said. The Japanese

regard giri in the same way we do the financial transaction: when he fails to repay it, he is

denounced as “a man who does not know giri” and is shamed. The financial transaction

metaphor holds true when we consider another difference between giri and gimu as well. While

gimu is regarded as limitless and can never be repaid, giri is recorded and repaid with exactitude,

and almost every action is regarded as incurring some form of giri as any action may place

yourself or another man under an obligation which must later be repaid. Any duty which we

6 Translation by Benedict

would regard as contractually obligated, such as the duty to help one’s in-laws when requested,

is giri. As giri also means the repayment of debts to others, the repayment of on to another can

be invoked to bind one into doing a specific act. As Benedict puts it, “This means keeping an

account of little words and acts Americans throw lightly about with no thought of incurring

obligations. It means walking warily in a complicated world.”

We must now ask how the Japanese shape this complicated system of obligations into an

ethical system. Put most simply, for the Japanese virtue is living exactly as explained by these

obligations. Each obligation has a certain area of life which it covers, and outside of this area or

circle it is regarded as irrelevant. Benedict uses the example of a map. Each area of obligation is

a province on a map, and each province has its own detailed codes and rules which must be

followed when one is in that province. Each province is separate from the others. When a man

goes to judge his fellows, he does not say that they are unjust or a bad person, as we might in a

Western culture. He instead specifies the area in which they are lacking by saying something

such as “they do not know ko” or “they do not know giri.” There is no golden rule such as our

popular saying “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Thus, areas of life which

are governed by different codes can advocate radically different behaviors without the logical

contradiction that we might find to be inherent in such actions.

Even within the provinces of the different obligations, the codes are understood in such a

manner that the behavior that is necessary can change drastically over a very short period of

time, the most prominent example of which being the surrender of Japan in 1945. When the

requirements of chu changed, so did the behavior of the Japanese, with a totality and speed

which a Western culture could not. For example, if we examine V-E day in Europe, those who

were collaborators before V-E day were likely to hold the same sentiments after V-E day. In

Japan, this assumption does not hold. A man is expected to act according to the obligations

which are placed upon him, and a man should not act unless he has considered all of the

consequences of his actions.

This view of morality does not include a circle of evil, as we might put it. Benedict says

“It is especially important… to realize that the ‘circles’ into which the Japanese divide life do not

include any ‘circle of evil.’ This is not to say that the Japanese do not recognize bad behavior,

but they do not see human life as a stage on which forces of good contend with forces of evil.”

Instead, each circle must contend with every other, and a moral life is a careful balancing act of

the claims of each circle against the others. Each claim or procedure is in and of itself good. The

analogy used by Benedict is that of a sword: each person when born is like a new sword,

polished and free from rust. If the sword is not kept polished, it rusts and get tarnished. However,

all that is required to restore it to its original state is care and polish. The Japanese treat morals in

the same way. Should one’s character become tarnished, there are methods which can be used to

restore it to its former luster, the most drastic of which being seppuku, or ritual suicide.

When we begin to compare Hume with Japan, we must find the answer to the question of

whether the Japanese system of morals can be shown to be the Humean system of morals

running over a “different inclination of ground” of a vastly different culture. Is it merely a

question of a different balance of agreeableness and utility which is valued, or is it something

else entirely?

The first similarity that strikes us is that of the relativity of each system of virtues. In

Hume, there are four main moral considerations that can be used to determine the morality of a

quality or action. It is acknowledged that these considerations can come into conflict, but there is

no given order in which these considerations must be addressed and there is no general rule of

priority given to one or the other. Importantly, these considerations cannot be reduced to or

derived from one another. The same relativity is found, to perhaps even a greater degree, in the

Japanese system of morals. Each obligation rules in its own area, and the act of being virtuous is

the proper balancing of the demands of these virtues. These obligations explicitly conflict,

placing the Japanese system of morals in the broader category of conflict multiplist ethics with

Hume’s systems of morals.

However similar the basics of each system might be, the differences are even more

profound. In Hume’s system, there is no given method for addressing the priority of the virtues.

However, in the Japanese system, there is a code that addresses the means in which the differing

obligations must be balanced. This code is strict, and while it has varied over time, it must be

observed in order to be found virtuous. There can be higher laws and lesser laws, and the higher

must overrule the lesser if they are to be found in conflict. Benedict points to chu being the

highest law in Japan, as established by a document called the Rescript to Soldiers and Sailors.

This document, given in 1882, is treated in a similar manner as holy books would in other

cultures and emphasizes that the higher law is chu to the Emperor and the lower law is giri or

“keeping faith in public relations.” This firmly establishes the priority of the Japanese virtues and

distinguishes it from Hume’s less ordered system.

Another significant difference that can be observed is the nature of the codes and the

manner in which one lives by them. In Hume’s system, to act virtuously is to attempt to attain

those characteristics that are considered virtuous and abstain from those that are deemed vicious

in the manner that fits you best. In a broader sense, these general approaches are determined by

culture and this is where Hume sees room to claim that all apparent differences in the moral

systems of different cultures are caused simply by valuing some virtues higher than others. In the

Japanese system, there is no contrast between the virtuous and the vicious, between good and

evil. There are merely obligations which are placed upon an individual that the individual is

expected to fulfill. Achieving this goal is seen as virtuous while failing to achieve it is seen as

vicious. Even when one is perceived as having failed to live up to the standards of their

obligations, there are mechanisms by which one can clear their name. Another difference that is

found in this distinction is the nature of the considerations that are used to determine virtue and

vice. In Japan, they are obligations. In Hume, they are benefits.

Ultimately, now that we have determined the differing ground upon which the waters of

morality run, we must determine whether they spring from the same source. While the moral

systems of Japan and Hume can produce many of the same superficial qualities, such as a

conflict multiplism that is adaptable to many different situations, the differences outweigh the

similarities. The explicit ordering that is found in the moral systems of Japan is absent in Hume,

and the contrast between virtue and vice found in Hume is discarded in Japan in favor of an

obligation-based moral system. This appeal to authority is not found in Hume and leads to the

necessary conclusion that the moral system of Japan is not merely another expression of Hume’s

sentimentalist moral system which values different virtues, but instead a distinctly different and

unique moral system. This undermines Hume’s claim that his system is based on a universal

human nature that is applicable at all times in all cultures.