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The Morals of Liberty
Whether the end justifies the means has long been a matter of debate among both philosophical and practical circles; the concept of morality, either shared or individual, is the major force governing the taking of any action that will, in the end, prove to be beneficial. It is not surprising, then, that one of the first questions raised in such discussions is that of whether or not such morality even exists. Since it has been historically difficult for mankind to get away from the need for some sort of moral backbone, most theoreticians solve the problem by creating their own definitions of morality that society or individuals ought to adhere to. In his classic novel, Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoevsky finds fault with such thinking, and the utilitarian paradigm plays a pivotal role in the central conflict of the book. Through his portrayal of the mental and physical breakdown suffered by a utilitarian adherent after a testing of the theory that crosses beyond merely thinking about the ideas, Dostoevsky clearly expounds the flaws and pitfalls he perceives in such a version of “morality.”
Although Raskolnikov, the novel’s protagonist, does not subscribe to any preexisting idea of selective compliance with the law, his theory of the ordinary vs. extraordinary man fits nicely into a small category of similar thoughts. Throughout the story, Raskolnikov reasons that any action is justified if it is taken by a man with extraordinary sensibilities-- a man able to recognize and accept the reasons for and repercussions of actions considered by society to be abhorrent or objectionable. Although the idea that society as a whole will benefit from the actions of such a man does play a role, Raskolnikov almost seems to see such benefits as more of an added bonus than as the actual reason for the actions; he does not claim that Napoleon has made the world a better place, but only that he is not looked upon as a criminal by posterity. In fact, the idea of responsibility to society does not seem to factor very largely in Raskolnikov’s theory: “... an extraordinary man has the right... that is not an official right, but an inner right to decide in his own conscience to overstep… certain obstacles, and only in case it is essential for the practical fulfillment of his idea (sometimes, perhaps of benefit to the whole of humanity)” ( Dostoevsky 242). As one of the few dissenters from popular morality to refute morality entirely rather than propose his own variety, Friedrich Nietzsche’s rejection of any common standard in such cases blends nicely with Raskolnikov’s idea of inner right: “All these moralities which address themselves to the individual person… [are] one and all baroque and unreasonable in form ? because they address themselves to `all'” (Nietzche 198). Raskolnikov’s idea of extraordinary men having a right-within-themselves has less to do with their accountability and place in the justice system and more with whether they need feel guilty when breaking society’s rules. That is, if an extraordinary man commits an “excess,” his conscience will not bother him, but if an ordinary man does so, his will. It is for this reason that Raskolnikov does not at first question his theory when he finds himself suffering over his crime, but rather his viewing of himself as “extraordinary.”
The extraordinary-man theory contrasts sharply with John Stuart Mill’s utilitarianism on several aspects, not the least of which is the focus on individuals. Mill saw utility “...as the ultimate appeal on all ethical questions; but it must be utility in the largest sense, grounded on the permanent interests of man as a progressive being” (Mill). However, as Raskolnikov becomes more and more desperate to justify himself, he places a much stronger emphasis on the mutual benefit facet and seems to eschew the argument of his own possible superiority altogether. Thus, the earliest version of his theory does not comply with Mill’s utilitarianism, but it gradually grows to resemble it more and more up until the point at which Raskolnikov abandons the idea completely.
The most obvious rejection of any individual-right, end-justifies-means approach present in the novel is portrayed as a dream sequence within the epilogue: “He dreamt that the whole world was condemned to a terrible new strange plague... Each thought that he alone had the truth... They did not know how to judge and could not agree what to consider evil and what good... All men and all things were involved in destruction” (Dostoevsky 502). The major downfall of individual judgment of morality, if it exists at all, is presented as being the fact that there is no common agreement and order when every man busies himself trying to accomplish various ends by various means.
The question of morality and the ends justifying the means, like most questions worth thinking about, has no cut-and-dry answer. To say that it is an issue every person must figure out for themselves would be a laughable incomprehension of the point, but perhaps the answer is something humans can work toward together.
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