The moral subject strives to will the unconditional good. However, as we established in chapter two, the moral subject recognises the unconditional good as something distinct from it and, therefore, the notion of duty – the unqualified obligation to will the good – is rendered abstract: the moral subject knows it must do its duty, but it cannot derive any particular duties from the notion of duty itself. Duty is thus indeterminate. We have reached a stage in the dialectic at which the moral subject is aware of its formal obligation to ‘act for the sake of duty’, but it has no specific duties on which to act. This is problematic because, as a particular subject, the moral subject requires particular moral principles to guide its behaviour. So, whilst it is essential to recognise the importance of duty, the moral subject requires more than this abstract obligation; it needs to relate its duty to the particular choices it makes in its own life. The moral subject inhabits a world of determinacy – it is this subject, living in this community, with this vocation and these interests, making these choices – and it is precisely these determinate factors that the moral subject needs to reconcile with the unconditional good. This is the goal of morality. However, this cannot be achieved if we conceive of the good in terms of abstract duty. In paragraph 136, we learn that, “One may speak of duty in the most sublime manner … But if it leads to nothing determinate, it ultimately grows tedious, for the spirit requires that particularity to which it is entitled” (1991:163A my italics). The moral subject “requires” determinate obligations on which
to act. It is, therefore, essential that the moral subject develop a system of determinate moral principles. It is only through doing so that the moral subject can realise the good.
But from where is the moral subject going to derive particular moral obligations? We have established that it cannot derive any from the abstract notion of duty. Nor can it look towards its society or community for objective, shared standards, because, at this stage in the dialectical progression, there is none (the whole purpose of morality is to establish what these should be). In an attempt to obtain particular instances of the good, the moral will must turn towards its own subjectivity. Hegel writes, “Because of the abstract character of the good … particularity in general, falls within subjectivity” (1991:163). The moral will must examine its subjectivity in order to construct a system of determinate moral principles.
Of course, from the outset, the morality section of the Philosophy of Right centres around the moral will’s right to self-determination and the ability to express its own subjectivity through its actions. In this respect, the exercising of subjectivity is nothing new; the moral will has always understood its actions as expressions of its subjectivity. After all, the moral will is the self-determining will. However, the extent to which action is permeated by subjectivity increases as we progress through morality (from purpose, to knowledge, intention, welfare, etc.), and we now encounter the moment at which the right to exercise subjectivity reaches fruition. The moral will, having realised the abstract and indeterminate nature of duty, has nothing other than its own subjectivity on which to rely as a guide for action (there are, as yet, no shared, objective, social standards on which to base its moral decisions). The moral subject has to provide a content for duty from within itself. It has to decide for itself what is right and what is wrong; and it is only through doing so that the moral subject can produce
particular duties on which to base its actions. Hegel writes, “Subjectivity, in its universality reflected into itself, is the absolute certainty of itself; it is that which posits particularity, and it is the determining and decisive factor” (1991:163). This type of subjectivity is the moral conscience.
The moral conscience marks the fruition of subjective freedom in the Philosophy
of Right, for it is the moment in which the moral subject is bound by nothing other than
its own subjectivity. The right which permeates the entire moral sphere, the right of the
subjective will17, finds its ultimate expression in the moral conscience: in appealing to its conscience, the moral subject recognises itself as the only legitimate moral authority. It withdraws from externality in an attempt to determine, for itself, what is good. It is the “decisive factor” and the “absolute inward certainty of itself” (1991:163). Conscience posits its own convictions as determinate instances of the good and, in doing so, refuses to submit to external moral demands. As such, conscience captures the essence of morality, which is to play an active role in determining moral structures and to reject unreflective moral behaviour. For this reason, I consider conscience to be an extremely important phenomenon in the Philosophy of Right, and one which, when understood correctly, illuminates Hegel’s position on subjective freedom as a whole. This is a view which is supported by current Hegel scholarship. In his book,
Foundations of Hegel’s Social Theory, Neuhouser refers to conscience as the “central
feature” of moral subjectivity and suggests that, when investigating the notoriously problematic relationship between morality and ethical life in Hegel’s Philosophy of
Right, it is essential to ask whether or not ethical life can accommodate conscience
(2000:229). Similarly, Dean Moyar characterises conscience as the “central figure” in
the transition from morality to Ethical life, and argues that, “once [the status of conscience within ethical life] is understood, [Hegel’s] transition from morality to ethical life is both more comprehensible and less threatening to liberal freedom” (2008:3). And, echoing this sentiment, Dahlstrom claims, “Demonstrating the dialectic of conscience is a way of establishing the necessity of morality for-and-within ethical life” (1993:186). All three of these commentators recommend that we approach the question of subjective freedom within the Philosophy of Right (and the essential question of whether or not Hegel respects it) via a detailed examination of the dialectic of conscience. If we can establish that conscience – the fruition of subjective freedom – has a meaningful function within ethical life, we can further undermine the infamous criticism that Hegel allows little or no room for subjective freedom within his political sphere. My thesis will argue that conscience does play a meaningful role within ethical life and, thus, that Hegel is not dismissive of subjective freedom.18 In order to do this, it is first necessary to look at how Hegel introduces conscience in the moral sphere. This will occupy the remainder of this chapter.
The obligation that permeates the entire morality section of the Philosophy of
Right is that the moral subject align its particularity with the unconditional good.
However, as we have seen, conceiving of this obligation in terms of ‘duty’ only leads to a moral impasse. The notion of duty, by itself, takes the form of an abstract obligation (the moral subject knows it must act for the sake of duty, but it cannot derive any particular duties from the notion of duty itself). It is the moment of conscience that promises a way out of this impasse, for it is during the moment of conscience that the
subjective will is that whatever it is to recognise as valid should be perceived by it as good]
18
I shall, in later chapters, argue that the right to subjective freedom is retained in the Aufhebung from the moral conscience to true conscience of ethical life.
abstract idea of duty can become actual. Through examining its conscience, the moral subject attempts to give content to the abstract notion of duty. Hegel writes that conscience is “the power to which the good, which is at first only Idea and obligation, owes its actuality” (1991:166). Without the moment of conscience, the moral subject would recognise its unconditional obligation to act for the sake of duty, but it would not be able to produce any particular duties. It would remain in a sphere of perennial obligation, without content. It is conscience that holds the promise of fulfilling the goal of morality; for it is conscience that allows the moral subject to give itself a particular content.
But what exactly is the moment of conscience? What goes into this process of providing content to the abstract nature of duty?
Conscience is the process through which the moral will makes a judgement about whether or not a specific action accords with the good. By consulting its conscience, the moral will aims to acquire a motivating belief or conviction, which will give it a reason for acting in a particular way. Hegel describes this process as “the power of judgement which determines solely from itself what is good”(1991:166). The first thing to notice from this quotation is that consulting one’s conscience is a solitary process: conscience produces its convictions “from itself”. This will, of course, become important later. But, the second thing to notice is that Hegel refers to this deliberative process as the power of judgement. To which type of judgement is Hegel referring here? Is Hegel using the term loosely, to mean something like ‘conviction’ or ‘sensation’? Or is he using the term in a stricter sense? Dudley explores this question in his book,
Hegel, Nietzsche and Philosophy. He argues that Hegel uses the term ‘judgement’
corresponds to the Judgement of the Concept in Hegel’s Logic. This is because, as conscience, the moral will tries to decide whether or not an given object (in this case, an action), measures up to a given concept (in this case, the unconditional good). The moral will must “compare its individual actions with the concept of a good action, so as to judge in each case whether an action is good and required by (or at least in accordance with) its freedom” (2002:51). This seems plausible. The moral will, by exercising its conscience, judges whether or not a specific action is in accordance with the concept of the unconditional good; whether or not a specific action fulfils its duty. However, Dudley continues to explain why it is problematic to conceive of conscience in this way. In order to articulate his concerns, we need to indulge temporarily in some of Hegel’s logical terminology. But, by doing so, we can highlight rather succinctly the dangers of claiming that conscience is the power of judgement.
Contained within the Judgement of the Concept are three types of judgement: assertoric, problematic and apodeictic. An assertoric judgement simply identifies an individual subject with a universal predicate; for example, as Dudley suggests, ‘this action is good’ (2002:51). This is exactly the kind of claim that the moral conscience makes (and, if it is successful, will unite the universal and particular). But, the difficulty with this kind of judgement – as the name suggests – is that it is merely asserted and its justification is, therefore, only subjective. The objective truth of the judgement is not guaranteed. So, in the case of conscience, whether or not a given action does indeed conform to the unconditional good is a simply matter of contingency. Because the assertoric judgement is subjective, it is also problematic. A problematic judgement is one that can be “confronted with equal right by its contradictory.” (Hegel 1969:660). In other words, because a judgement is merely asserted, it is possible to assert the opposite
and for both of these judgements to have an equal claim to the truth. For example, my conscience may tell me that ‘this action is good’, and another conscience may claim that ‘this action is bad’. With only subjective justifications available, both judgements are equally defensible. The moral conscience experiences this problem. If conscience recognises its own entitlement to assert what is good, then, in turn, it must recognise another conscience’s right to do exactly the same. The claims of the two consciences may disagree, yet it is impossible to choose between them. In an attempt to do so, we could employ an apodeictic judgement. This type of judgement tries to solve the problem of subjective justification by constituting the particular in such a way that it can be legitimately subsumed under the concept. As Dudley writes, “here there is a specified criterion (having a particular constitution) that justifies the application of the universal predicate” (2002:52). So, for example, we could say, ‘if we constitute a particular action in this way, we can subsume it under the universal good’. But the problem is obvious. We cannot know how to constitute a particular action unless we already know the content of the universal predicate (i.e. the good). And if we already knew the content of the good, we wouldn’t need to consult our conscience in the first place! We are confronted with a paradoxical situation. And, as a result of this, Dudley argues, it is a mistake to say that conscience can always use the power of judgement to successfully determine which actions correspond to the good. He concludes, “All that the moral will can use to determine its duties is its subjective certainty” (2002:52).
Of course, this somewhat swift discussion highlights many difficulties to which we shall return, both in this chapter and later chapters (since an integral theme in my thesis is the debilitating subjectivity of the moral conscience). However, I think it is helpful to examine what Hegel means when he refers to conscience as the power of
judgement. What Dudley accurately shows in the previous analysis is that, if we identify
conscience with Hegel’s judgement of the concept, saying that conscience has the ‘power of judgement’ doesn’t amount to anything more than saying that conscience has the power of ‘subjective conviction’. There is nothing to separate an assertoric judgement from mere opinion (albeit an opinion strongly believed). We therefore have to be careful, when reading Hegel’s account of conscience, not to attribute this term ‘judgement’ with any kind of objective validity. Of course, it is possible that conscience
might make a correct judgement; Dudley does not deny the possibility of objectively
true judgements. But what he does emphasise is that this objective truth is not guaranteed. Therefore, when we read that conscience ‘judges’ an action to be good, we should read it along the same lines as ‘conscience has a conviction that this is good’, or ‘conscience strongly believes that this is good’. Within the section on moral conscience, judgements, opinions and convictions are all subjective in character.
With this in mind, let us return to Hegel’s description of conscience in section 136 and 137. Another thing we learn about conscience is that it involves a complete withdrawal into the self. We learn that conscience is the “deepest inner solitude within oneself in which all externals and all limitation have disappeared” (1991:164A). Conscience is not bound by the external and determinate world. During the moment of conscience, the moral subject abstracts from the world and is guided by nothing other than its own subjectivity. It performs a “descent into the self” (1991:164A). This type of radical subjectivity is the moral conscience. Having abstracted from the world, conscience can reflect on itself and arrive at particular duties that it thinks fulfil its obligation to will the good. But what criteria does conscience have for arriving at a particular duty? Well, at this stage, the only criterion conscience has is that it believes
the action to be good. Conscience gives itself content through an immediate conviction
that something fulfils its duty. If conscience judges a particular act to be good, then it is good. The conscience is “pure certainty of itself alone” (1991:166). We will return to this idea shortly.
Conscience has long been a powerful term in moral philosophy, valued for its ability to speak to everybody in a recognisable voice: the authentic voice of the innermost self. It represents the uniquely modern ethical view that, irrespective of social conditions, it is possible to access an uncorrupted, moral authority; namely, our own conviction. I think that, to this day, we value conscience for the same reason. We cherish the idea that our moral behaviour is not limited to obedience; that we can possess convictions, even if these run contrary to what society demands. And we believe, perhaps naively, that if we remain faithful to our convictions, we cannot go wrong (we shall return to this idea later in my thesis). Conscience takes us beyond ethical immediacy. It requires us to reflect on moral principles and determine, for ourselves, how to act. For Hegel, the moral conscience is also a valuable mark of modernity. In the lecture notes19 which accompany paragraph 136 of the Philosophy of
Right, it states:
conscience represents an exalted point of view, a point of view of the modern world, which has for the first time attained this consciousness, this descent into the self. Earlier and more sensuous ages have before them something external and given ... but my conscience knows itself
19
The lecture notes (marked as Additions) in the Cambridge text (1991) are taken from an edition of the
Philosophy of Right compiled by Eduard Gans and first published in 1833. The lecture notes themselves
as thought, and that this thought of mine is my sole source of obligation.
In this passage, Hegel praises conscience for taking us beyond the stage at which we submit to that which is “external and given” (by this, Hegel may have in mind the demands of the church or a non-rational state). For Hegel, unreflective submission to external authority demonstrates a primitive understanding of freedom, for it neglects the right of the subjective will. Despite his reverence for the Ancient Greek world, Hegel did not believe that the pre-Socratic, Greek Polis had progressed beyond this early stage of freedom.20 The Greeks had a customary ethics, which was unreflective and immediate. In the Philosophy of History, Hegel writes that “morality properly so called – subjective conviction and intention – ha[d] not yet manifested itself” in the Greek world (2004:251). It was Socrates who first challenged this system. Hegel describes Socrates as the “inventor of morality”, since he was the first to proclaim that citizens