Fourth in a series.
The first two posts in this series sketched my proposal for reading Hobbes’s moral theory in Leviathan, together with some remarks on the bearing of that theory on the book’s political argument. In the third, I pointed out some discreet, but decisive differences between Leviathan‘s Laws of Nature and their antecedents in De Cive, Hobbes’s earlier treatise in Latin. De Cive’s Fundamental Law of Nature is formulated as a twofold dictate of instrumental reason, addressed to the singular agent’s strategic self-interest: “That Peace is to be sought after where it may be found; and where not, there to provide our selves for helps of War.” (“quærendum esse pacem ubi haberi potest; ubi non potest, quærenda esse belli auxilia.” De Cive, 2.2). The Fundamental Law in Leviathan is instead a general norm for social interaction, concerned solely with the furtherance of peace: “Seek peace, and Follow it.” Leviathan’s argument on behalf of this rule is held studiously apart from strategic or instrumental considerations. In De Cive, the desirability of peace is subordinate to the self-regarding agent’s bedrock interest in his self-preservation. In Leviathan, that conceptual priority is inverted. Hobbes posits a prima facie right to self-regarding, self-defensive behavior, but this right is conditioned by the positive requirements of peaceable social intercourse. Only where there is no prospect of peace does Hobbes now grant men unlimited rein in their self-defensive measures. It is ultimately in the interest of peace that this so-called “right of nature” is affirmed.
I ended the previous post by observing that Hobbes’s reconception of the Fundamental Law makes for a decisive shift in his treatment of his other Laws of Nature as well. The various specific Laws of Nature in De Cive are supposed to hold good both as rules for living in peace, and also as the surest means for obtaining advantage in war (i.e., acquiring allies or confederates). This had the effect of leaving them hostage to a simplistic, ad hoc hypothesis concerning the strategic balance of power (i.e., safety in numbers). It also implied that peace was of no more than instrumental value. Both implications are avoided in Leviathan. Hobbes now offers his specific Laws of Nature as “Articles of Peace” — protocols of peaceable social interaction, without regard to any given agent’s self-regarding interests or strategic advantage.
To see how this difference plays itself out, consider how Hobbes has altered the Law which enjoins the making of covenants, requiring men to accept certain limits to their natural liberty. (To forestall a confusion over Hobbes’s numbering of the relevant rule in the two books: Whereas in Leviathan, this is known as the Second Law of Nature, as the next in the sequence after the Fundamental Law, in De Cive the numerical sequence begins only after that book’s version of the Fundamental Law, with this particular precept at the head of the series, numbered First.) De Cive’s version of this Law is simple and open-ended. “That the right of all men, to all things, ought not to be retain’d, but that some certain rights ought to be transferr’d, or relinquisht.” (“ius omnium in omnia retinendum non esse, sed iura quaedam transferenda, vel relinquenda esse” DC 2.3.) Notice that nothing is said in the rule about when men’s natural rights should be waived, nor to whom. As the rule owes its rationale to strategic considerations, then so too, presumably, does its application. After all, If the reason one is to seek peace is that the solitary individual is too weak to protect himself against others’ assaults, then it is presumably the consideration of one’s relative weakness that ought to dictate whether submission is proper. Nothing is said, in the earlier formulations, of what one is to expect in return. Peace is the rational course of action of those too weak to rely on their strength; the strong are at their discretion to do otherwise. The natural inference would be that the weak are to submit to the strong, the isolated to the more numerous and better organized.
Leviathan’s Second Law of Nature is different. “That a man be willing, when others are so too, as farre-forth, as for Peace, and defence of himselfe he shall think it necessary, to lay down right to all things; and be contented with so much liberty against other men, as he would allow other men against himself.” There is a built-in principle of reciprocity: The directive to abandon or surrender one’s natural liberty is now limited to the condition in which one is met with others’ readiness to do the same. Hobbes goes on to observe that the underlying principle here is none other than
that Law of the Gospell; Whatsoever you require that others should do to you, that ye do to them. And that Law of all men, Quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri non feceris [i.e., “Do not that to another, which thou wouldest not have done to thy selfe,” as Hobbes renders it elsewhere]. (Leviathan, ch. 14.)
As I’ve noted before, Hobbes’s argument here is concerned solely with identifying requirements for peaceable interaction, independent of strategic or prudential factors. Thus specified, those requirements would be fully satisfied by men’s agreement to a truce — which may or may not make anyone safer (depending on the parties’ continuing good will, among other factors). The reference to the parties’ concern to provide for their own self-defense does not mean that this is the rule’s underlying rationale. All it means — in the context of the built-in principle of reciprocity — is that the parties’ concern for their safety is to be acknowledged as legitimate, no bar to their putative peaceableness. Hobbes makes a point of explaining that the reason why concessions must be mutual, is to ensure that weak not be made to suffer the bullying or intransigence of the strong: “if other men will not lay down their Right, as well as he; then there is no Reason for any one, to devest himsefle of his: for that were to expose himself to Prey (which no man is bound to) rather than to dispose himself to Peace.” Note that Hobbes’s specific concern in this statement is to clarify what counts as a peaceable disposition — which also amounts to clarifying the condition under which the rules of peaceable conduct apply. It is other men’s readiness to lay down their arms that constitutes the condition in which it is incumbent on those who would wish to be taken for peaceable to show themselves ready to do the same, in like measure. (In the absence of this, Hobbes believes, it is morally senseless to demand of the peaceable that they make unilateral concessions. Actually, it is worse than senseless: it is positively obnoxious.)
The basic difference in Hobbes’s reasoning in the two books is somewhat masked by the fact that in De Cive, too, he eventually introduces a norm of reciprocity. De Cive’s Eighth Law of Nature holds that men are to be counted equal by nature; the Ninth, that whatever rights any man retain for himself, be granted to others as well. (These same Laws appear in Leviathan, numbered Ninth and Tenth, respectively.) In explaining these rules — unlike in the case of Leviathan’s Second Law — Hobbes supplies a rationale that amounts to a prudential consideration: those who claim unequal rights for themselves will inevitably find those claims contested, and can’t be so sure of always coming out on top in a fight. (Much same rationale appears on behalf of the corresponding rules of Leviathan – but that seems a case of authorial laziness, re-using an earlier passage with nothing much staked on it.) The point is that Hobbes needs some such prudential argument in De Cive, if the book’s Laws of Nature are to bear any semblance to familiar moral norms. He need no longer be burdened by this in Leviathan.
As I noted in the previous post, Hobbes concludes De Cive’s account of the Laws of Nature with the reminder that every one of those Laws is “deriv’d by a certain artifice from the single dictate of Reason advising us to look to the preservation, and safegard of our selves” (“…artificio quodam ab unico rationis, nos ad nostri conservationem & incolumitatem hortantis, dictamine derivata” DC 3.26). This statement is omitted from the corresponding paragraph in Leviathan, with good reason. That summative paragraph differs from its antecedent in De Cive in other ways as well. In both versions, Hobbes refers to the same norm of reciprocity that (as we’ve seen) he also invokes in Leviathan with reference to the Second Law: “Do not that to another, which thou wouldest not have done to thy selfe.” (In his 1668 Latin translation of Leviathan, Hobbes also quotes the Golden Rule in this passage.) But the similarity ends there.
The paragraph in De Cive is concerned the question of why men so often fail to honor these rules, when it is their own self-interest at stake. Hobbes’s answer is rather conventional: men’s judgments are often swayed by short-sighted, irrational passions. He introduces the maxim of reciprocity as the heuristic device by which we are able, when calm, to correct for this irrationality. The idea is that how we treat others is a reliable predictor of how they are likely to treat us: those to whom harm is done, do harm in return. (A subsequent paragraph elaborates further, identifying rationality with a lucid appraisal of the future consequences of one’s acts.)
Hobbes drops all of this when rewriting this paragraph for Leviathan. Instead, the precept of reciprocity is now simply offered as the epitome of the various specific Laws, a handy formula into which they are all ‘contracted.’ This is just to reiterate what he has argued throughout, having already introduced this same maxim in his gloss on the Second Law of Nature. So this now is Hobbes’s concluding reminder of the principle underlying his account (as the statement about the paramount dictate of self-preservation had been in the earlier book.) In De Cive the maxim had been endorsed as an aid to men’s self-interested deliberations. In Leviathan, Hobbes treats it instead as a device for keeping one’s own “selfe-love” from tipping the scales when “weighing the actions of other men with his own.” Not the rationality, but the reasonableness of human conduct is now what hangs in the balance — and it’s the assessment of other men’s conduct that Hobbes now puts at the forefront of his concern as a moral theorist.
Preceding posts in this series: