The Rudolf Steiner Archive

13. The Value of Life (Pessimism and Optimism)

[ 1 ] A counterpart to the question of the purpose or meaning of life (see p. 184 ff.) is the question of its value. We encounter two opposing views on this matter, along with every conceivable attempt at reconciliation between them. One view holds: The world is the best conceivable world that could exist, and life and action within it are a good of inestimable value. Everything presents itself as a harmonious and purposeful interplay and is worthy of admiration. Even what appears to be evil and bad can be recognized as good from a higher vantage point; for it represents a beneficial contrast to the good; we can appreciate this all the more when it stands out from the good. Moreover, evil is not truly real; we merely perceive a lesser degree of good as evil. Evil is the absence of good; it has no significance in itself.

[ 2 ] The other view is the one that asserts: life is full of torment and misery; displeasure outweighs pleasure everywhere, and pain outweighs joy. Existence is a burden, and non-existence would be preferable to existence under any circumstances.

[ 3 ] The main proponents of the former view, optimism, are Shaftesbury and Leibniz, while those of the latter, pessimism, are Schopenhauer and Eduard von Hartmann.

[ 4 ] Leibniz believes that the world is the best that can possibly exist. A better one is impossible. For God is good and wise. A good God wants to create the best of all possible worlds; a wise God knows it; he can distinguish it from all other possible, worse worlds. Only an evil or unwise God could create a world worse than the best possible one.

[ 5 ] Anyone who starts from this perspective will easily be able to chart the course that human action must take in order to contribute to the good of the world. Human beings need only seek to understand God’s will and act in accordance with it. If they know what God’s intentions are for the world and the human race, then they will also do what is right. And they will feel happy to add their own contribution to the greater good. From an optimistic standpoint, therefore, life is worth living. It must inspire us to participate actively.

[ 6 ] Schopenhauer sees things differently. He conceives of the foundation of the world not as an all-wise and all-benevolent being, but as a blind impulse or will. Eternal striving, an incessant yearning for satisfaction that can never be attained, is the fundamental trait of all volition. For once a desired goal is achieved, a new need arises, and so on. Satisfaction can only ever be of fleeting duration. The entire remaining content of our lives is unsatisfied urge; that is dissatisfaction, suffering. If the blind urge finally wears itself out, we lack any substance whatsoever; an infinite boredom fills our existence. Therefore, the relatively best course is to stifle desires and needs within oneself, to kill the will. Schopenhauer’s pessimism leads to inaction; its moral goal is universal laziness.

[ 7 ] In a fundamentally different way, Hartmann seeks to justify pessimism and make use of it for the sake of ethics. Following a favorite trend of our time, Hartmann seeks to ground his worldview in experience. Through the observation of life, he seeks to determine whether pleasure or displeasure predominates in the world. He subjects what appears to humans as good and happiness to the scrutiny of reason, in order to show that all supposed satisfaction, upon closer inspection, proves to be an illusion. It is an illusion to believe that we find sources of happiness and satisfaction in health, youth, freedom, a comfortable existence, love (sexual pleasure), compassion, friendship and family life, a sense of honor, honor, fame, power, religious edification, science and the arts, hope for an afterlife, and participation in cultural progress. Upon sober reflection, every pleasure brings far more evil and misery into the world than joy. The discomfort of a hangover is always greater than the comfort of intoxication. Unhappiness far outweighs happiness in the world. No human being, not even the relatively happiest, would, if asked, want to go through a miserable life a second time. But since Hartmann does not deny the presence of the ideal (wisdom) in the world, but rather grants it equal legitimacy alongside the blind drive (will), he can only attribute the creation of the world to its primordial being if he allows the pain of the world to culminate in a wise purpose of the world. The pain of worldly beings, however, is none other than the pain of God himself, for the life of the world as a whole is identical with the life of God. An all-wise being, however, can see its goal only in liberation from suffering, and since all existence is suffering, in liberation from existence. To transform being into the far better non-being is the purpose of the creation of the world. The world process is a continuous struggle against the pain of God, which ultimately ends with the annihilation of all existence. The moral life of human beings will thus be: participation in the annihilation of existence. God created the world so that through it he might free himself from his infinite pain. This is “to be regarded, as it were, as an itchy rash on the Absolute,” through which its unconscious healing power frees itself from an inner illness, “or also as a painful plaster which the all-one Being applies to itself in order to divert an inner pain outward for the time being and subsequently eliminate it.” Human beings are members of the world. God suffers in them. He created them to shatter his infinite pain. The pain that each of us suffers is but a drop in the infinite ocean of God’s pain (Hartmann, Phenomenology of Moral Consciousness, p. 866 ff.).

[ 8 ] Human beings must come to realize that the pursuit of individual gratification (egoism) is folly, and must allow themselves to be guided solely by the task of dedicating themselves to God through selfless devotion to the world process of salvation. In contrast to Schopenhauer’s, Hartmann’s pessimism leads us to devoted action in the service of a sublime task.

[ 9 ] But what about the argument based on experience?

[ 10 ] The pursuit of satisfaction is the extension of life activity beyond the substance of life. A being is hungry—that is, it strives for satiety—when its organic functions require the intake of new sustenance in the form of food to continue functioning. The pursuit of honor consists in the fact that a person regards his or her personal actions as valuable only when external recognition is bestowed upon them. The pursuit of knowledge arises when, in relation to the world that a person can see, hear, etc., something is missing as long as they have not comprehended it. The fulfillment of the pursuit generates pleasure in the pursuing individual; non-fulfillment generates displeasure. It is important to note that pleasure or displeasure depends solely on the fulfillment or non-fulfillment of my pursuit. The striving itself can by no means be regarded as displeasure. If it turns out, therefore, that at the moment of fulfilling one aspiration a new one immediately arises, I must not say that pleasure has given birth to displeasure for me, because under all circumstances enjoyment generates the desire for its repetition or for a new pleasure. Only when this desire encounters the impossibility of its fulfillment can I speak of displeasure. Even then, when an experienced pleasure generates in me the desire for a greater or more refined pleasurable experience, I can speak of a displeasure generated by the first pleasure only at the moment when the means to experience the greater or more refined pleasure are denied to me. Only when displeasure occurs as a natural consequence of pleasure—as, for example, in a woman’s sexual pleasure through the sufferings of childbirth and the hardships of child-rearing—can I find in the pleasure the creator of the pain. If striving as such were to evoke displeasure, then any elimination of striving would have to be accompanied by pleasure. But the opposite is the case. The lack of striving in the content of our lives produces boredom, and this is associated with displeasure. But since striving, by its very nature, can last a long time before it is fulfilled and then content itself for the time being with the hope of fulfillment, it must be acknowledged that displeasure has nothing to do with striving as such, but depends solely on the non-fulfillment of the same. Schopenhauer is therefore wrong in every respect when he regards desire or striving (the will) in itself as the source of pain.

[ 11 ] In truth, the opposite is actually true. Striving (desire) in itself brings joy. Who is not familiar with the pleasure provided by the hope of a distant but strongly desired goal? This joy accompanies the work whose fruits we are only to receive in the future. This pleasure is entirely independent of the achievement of the goal. When the goal is then achieved, the pleasure of fulfillment is added to the pleasure of striving as something new. But to anyone who might say: to the displeasure caused by an unfulfilled goal is added the disappointment of dashed hope, which ultimately makes the displeasure at non-fulfillment greater than any pleasure in fulfillment—to such a person one must reply: the opposite may also be true; looking back on the pleasure experienced during the time of unfulfilled desire will just as often have a soothing effect on the displeasure caused by non-fulfillment. Anyone who, in the face of failed hopes, exclaims, “I have done my part!” is a case in point for this assertion. The blissful feeling of having done one’s best is overlooked by those who attach to every unfulfilled desire the claim that not only has the joy of fulfillment failed to materialize, but the pleasure of the desire itself has also been destroyed.

[ 12 ] The fulfillment of a desire gives rise to pleasure, and the non-fulfillment of a desire gives rise to displeasure. One must not conclude from this that pleasure is the satisfaction of a desire and displeasure is the non-satisfaction of a desire. Both pleasure and displeasure can arise in a being even without being the result of a desire. Illness is displeasure that is not preceded by a desire. Anyone who were to claim that illness is an unfulfilled desire for health would be making the mistake of mistaking the self-evident and unconscious wish not to become ill for a positive desire. If someone inherits a fortune from a wealthy relative whose existence they had not the slightest inkling of, this fact fills them with pleasure without any prior desire.

[ 13 ] Anyone who wishes to determine whether there is a surplus on the side of pleasure or displeasure must take into account: the pleasure of desire, that of the fulfillment of desire, and that which comes to us unbidden. On the other side of the ledger will be: displeasure arising from boredom, that arising from unfulfilled striving, and finally that which comes upon us without our desire. The latter category also includes the displeasure caused by work that is imposed upon us, not chosen by ourselves.

[ 14 ] This raises the question: what is the proper means of arriving at the balance sheet from these debits and credits? Eduard von Hartmann believes that it is deliberative reason. He does say (Philosophy of the Unconscious, 7th ed., Vol. II, p. 290): “Pain and pleasure are only such insofar as they are felt.” It follows from this that there is no other standard for pleasure than the subjective one of feeling. I must feel whether the sum of my feelings of displeasure, when combined with my feelings of pleasure, results in a surplus of joy or pain within me. Nevertheless, Hartmann asserts: “ If ... the value of life for every being can be assessed only according to its own subjective standard ..., this by no means implies that every being derives the correct algebraic sum from the totality of the affections of its life, or, in other words, that its overall judgment regarding its own life is correct in relation to its subjective experiences. ” This once again makes the rational assessment of feeling the arbiter of value. ^{1Whoever wishes to calculate whether the total sum of pleasure or that of displeasure prevails fails to consider that he is making a calculation about something that is not experienced anywhere. Feeling does not calculate, and for the true evaluation of life, it is the actual experience that counts, not the result of a hypothetical calculation.}

[ 15 ] Anyone who more or less closely follows the line of thought of thinkers such as Eduard von Hartmann may believe that, in order to arrive at a correct assessment of life, they must eliminate the factors that distort our judgment regarding the balance of pleasure and displeasure. They may seek to achieve this in two ways. First by demonstrating that our desires (instincts, will) interfere disruptively with our sober assessment of emotional value. For example, while we ought to tell ourselves that sexual pleasure is a source of evil, the fact that the sexual drive is powerful within us tempts us to delude ourselves into believing in a pleasure that is not actually present to that extent. We want to enjoy ourselves; therefore, we do not admit to ourselves that we suffer under that enjoyment. Second, by subjecting feelings to criticism and seeking to demonstrate that the objects to which feelings are attached prove to be illusions in the light of rational knowledge, and that they are destroyed the moment our ever-growing intelligence sees through the illusions.

[ 16 ] He might think of it this way. If an ambitious person wants to determine whether, up to the moment he begins his reflection, pleasure or displeasure has played the greater part in his life, then he must free himself from two sources of error in his judgment. Since he is ambitious, this fundamental trait of his character will cause him to view the joys of recognition for his achievements through a magnifying glass, but the insults of rejection through a reducing glass. At the time he experienced the setbacks, he felt the insults precisely because he is ambitious; in memory, they appear in a milder light, while the joys of recognition, to which he is so receptive, are imprinted all the more deeply. Now, it is certainly a true blessing for the ambitious person that this is so. The illusion lessens his sense of displeasure in the moment of self-reflection. Nevertheless, his assessment is a false one. The sufferings over which a veil is drawn, he has truly had to endure in their full intensity, and he thus actually records them incorrectly in the ledger of his life. To arrive at a correct judgment, the ambitious person would have to set aside his ambition for the moment of reflection. He would have to view his life thus far with his mind’s eye, unclouded by any filters. Otherwise, he resembles the merchant who, when closing his books, includes his business zeal on the income side.

[ 17 ] But he can go even further. He can say: The ambitious person will also realize that the recognition he pursues is worthless. He will come to this realization on his own, or be led to it by others, that a reasonable person cannot care about recognition from others, since in “all such matters that are not questions of life and development, or have not even been definitively resolved by science,” one can always be certain “that the majorities are wrong and the minorities are right.” “He who makes ambition his guiding star places his happiness in the hands of such a judgment.” (Philosophy of the Unconscious, Vol. II, p. 332.) If the ambitious person tells himself all this, then he must regard as an illusion the mental image that his ambition has created for him as reality, and consequently also the feelings linked to the corresponding illusions of his ambition. For this reason, it could then be said: what arises from illusions in terms of pleasurable feelings must also be struck from the account of life’s values; what remains then represents the illusion-free sum of life’s pleasures, and this is so small compared to the sum of displeasures that life is no pleasure, and non-existence is to be preferred to existence.

[ 18 ] But while it is immediately obvious that the deception caused by the interference of the ambitious drive leads to a false result when calculating the balance of pleasure, what has been said regarding the recognition of the illusory nature of the objects of pleasure must nevertheless be contested. Excluding all feelings of pleasure linked to real or supposed illusions from the pleasure balance of life would actually distort the latter. For the ambitious person has truly taken pleasure in the recognition of the crowd, regardless of whether he himself later, or someone else, recognizes this recognition as an illusion. This does not diminish the joyful sensation experienced in the slightest. Excluding all such “illusory” feelings from the balance sheet of life does not correct our judgment of those feelings, but rather erases genuinely existing feelings from life.

[ 19 ] And why should these feelings be eliminated? For those who have them, they are simply sources of pleasure; for those who have overcome them, the experience of overcoming (not through the self-satisfied feeling: “What a person I am!”—but through the objective sources of pleasure inherent in the act of overcoming) brings about a pleasure that is certainly spiritualized, but no less significant for that. If feelings are struck from the balance sheet of pleasure because they are attached to objects that turn out to be illusions, then the value of life is made dependent not on the quantity of pleasure, but on the quality of pleasure, and this in turn on the value of the things that cause the pleasure. But if I wish to determine the value of life solely from the quantity of pleasure or displeasure it brings me, then I must not presuppose anything else by which I would again determine the value or worthlessness of pleasure. If I say: I want to compare the amount of pleasure with the amount of displeasure and see which is greater, then I must also take into account all pleasure and displeasure in their actual magnitudes, quite apart from whether they are based on an illusion or not. Anyone who attributes a lesser value to life for pleasure based on illusion than for pleasure that can be justified before reason is, in fact, making the value of life dependent on factors other than pleasure.

[ 20 ] Anyone who underestimates the profit simply because it is tied to a frivolous product is like a merchant who records only a quarter of the substantial profit from a toy factory in his accounts because the factory produces trinkets for children.

[ 21 ] If it is merely a matter of weighing the amount of pleasure against the amount of displeasure, then the illusory nature of the objects of certain pleasurable sensations must be completely disregarded.

[ 22 ] The approach recommended by Hartmann—a rational consideration of the pleasure and pain generated by life—has thus far led us to the point where we know how to draw up the account, what to enter on one side and what on the other. But how, then, should the account be calculated? Is reason also capable of determining the balance?

[ 23 ] The merchant has made a mistake in his calculation if the calculated profit does not correspond to the goods demonstrably enjoyed or yet to be enjoyed as a result of the transaction. Likewise, the philosopher must necessarily have made an error in his judgment if he cannot demonstrate the supposedly calculated surplus of pleasure or displeasure in the sensation.

[ 24 ] For the time being, I do not wish to scrutinize the calculations of those pessimists who base their views on a rational outlook on the world; but anyone who must decide whether or not to continue with the business of life will first demand proof of where this calculated surplus of unhappiness lies.

[ 25 ] We have now reached the point where reason is not able to determine the excess of pleasure or displeasure on its own, but where it must reveal this excess in life as perception. It is not in the concept alone, but in the interplay of concept and perception (and feeling is perception) mediated by thought that reality becomes accessible to human beings (cf. p. 88ff.). After all, the merchant will only give up his business when the loss of goods calculated by his accountant is confirmed by the facts. If that is not the case, then he has the accountant recalculate the figures. A person living in the world will act in exactly the same way. If the philosopher wants to prove to him that displeasure is far greater than pleasure, but he does not feel that to be the case, then he will say: you have erred in your musings; think the matter through again. But if, at a certain point in time, a business truly suffers such losses that no amount of credit is sufficient to satisfy the creditors, then bankruptcy will occur even if the merchant avoids gaining clarity about his affairs by keeping the books. Likewise, if the amount of displeasure in a person at a certain point in time were to become so great that no hope (credit) for future pleasure could lift him above the pain, it would lead to the bankruptcy of the business of life.

[ 26 ] Yet the number of people who commit suicide is relatively small compared to the number of those who courageously carry on living. Very few people give up on life simply because of the unpleasantness they experience. What follows from this? Either that it is not correct to say that the amount of displeasure is greater than the amount of pleasure, or that we do not make our continued existence dependent on the amount of pleasure or displeasure we feel.

[ 27 ] In a very peculiar way, Eduard von Hartmann’s pessimism leads him to declare life worthless because pain predominates in it, and yet to assert the necessity of enduring it. This necessity lies in the fact that the purpose of the world outlined above (pp. 207ff.) can be achieved only through the tireless, devoted labor of human beings. But as long as people still pursue their selfish desires, they are unfit for such selfless work. Only when they have convinced themselves through experience and reason that the pleasures of life sought by egoism cannot be attained will they devote themselves to their true task. In this way, the pessimistic conviction is to be the source of selflessness. An education based on pessimism is to eradicate egoism by confronting it with its own futility.

[ 28 ] According to this view, the pursuit of pleasure is thus rooted in human nature. Only upon realizing the impossibility of its fulfillment does this pursuit give way to higher human endeavors.

[ 29 ] It cannot be said that a moral worldview, which hopes that the acceptance of pessimism will lead to devotion to unselfish life goals, overcomes egoism in the true sense of the word. Moral ideals are only strong enough to take hold of the will once a person has realized that the selfish pursuit of pleasure cannot lead to satisfaction. The person whose selfishness craves the fruits of pleasure finds them sour because he cannot attain them: he turns away from them and devotes himself to a selfless way of life. Moral ideals, in the opinion of the pessimists, are not strong enough to overcome egoism; but they establish their dominion on the ground that has been cleared for them by the realization of the futility of selfishness.

[ 30 ] If human beings, by their very nature, strive for pleasure but cannot possibly attain it, then the annihilation of existence and salvation through non-being would be the only reasonable goal. And if one holds the view that God is the true bearer of the world’s suffering, then humans would have to make it their task to bring about God’s salvation. The suicide of the individual does not promote the attainment of this goal, but rather impedes it. God can reasonably only have created human beings so that they might bring about his salvation through their actions. Otherwise, creation would be purposeless. And such a worldview does not consider purposes beyond the human. Everyone must perform their specific task within the general work of salvation. If he shirks this duty through suicide, the work intended for him must be performed by another. This other person must endure the agony of existence in his place. And since God dwells within every being as the true bearer of pain, the suicide has not in the least diminished the amount of God’s pain; rather, he has imposed a new difficulty upon God by forcing Him to create a substitute for him.

[ 31 ] All of this presupposes that pleasure is a standard of value for life. Life manifests itself through a sum of drives (needs). If the value of life depended on whether it brings more pleasure or displeasure, then the drive that brings its bearer an excess of the latter must be deemed worthless. Let us examine drive and pleasure to see whether the former can be measured by the latter. To avoid the suspicion that life begins only with the sphere of the “intellectual aristocracy,” we shall start with a “purely animal” need: hunger.

[ 32 ] Hunger arises when our organs can no longer function properly without a fresh supply of nutrients. What the hungry person seeks first and foremost is satiety. As soon as enough food has been consumed to satisfy the hunger, the nutritional instinct has achieved its goal. The pleasure associated with satiety consists, for the time being, in the elimination of the pain caused by hunger. Another need joins the mere nutritional instinct. Through the intake of food, a person does not merely wish to restore the proper functioning of their organs or overcome the pain of hunger; they also seek to accomplish this accompanied by pleasant taste sensations. When hungry and facing a pleasurable meal in half an hour, they may even refrain from spoiling their appetite for the better meal by consuming inferior food that could satisfy them sooner. They need hunger to derive full pleasure from their meal. Thus, hunger simultaneously becomes the instigator of pleasure. If all hunger in the world could be satisfied, then the full amount of enjoyment resulting from the existence of the need for food would be realized. To this must be added the special pleasure that gourmets derive from a refinement of their taste buds that goes beyond the ordinary.

[ 33 ] This amount of pleasure would be as great as possible if no need related to the type of pleasure in question remained unsatisfied, and if the pleasure did not simultaneously entail a certain amount of displeasure.

[ 34 ] Modern science holds that nature produces more life than it can sustain—that is, it also generates more hunger than it is capable of satisfying. The surplus of life that is produced must perish in the struggle for existence, amidst suffering. Admittedly: the needs of life are, at every moment of world events, greater than the available means of satisfaction, and the enjoyment of life is thereby impaired. However, the actual individual enjoyment of life is not diminished in the slightest. Where the satisfaction of desire occurs, the corresponding amount of pleasure is present, even if there is a large number of unsatisfied drives within the desiring being itself or in others alongside it. What is diminished, however, is the value of the pleasure of life. If only a part of a living being’s needs finds satisfaction, then it experiences a corresponding pleasure. This pleasure has a value that is all the smaller the smaller it is in relation to the total demand of life in the realm of the desires in question. One can conceive of this value as a fraction whose numerator is the actually existing pleasure and whose denominator is the sum of needs. The fraction has the value 1 when the numerator and denominator are equal, that is, when all needs are also satisfied. It becomes greater than 1 when there is more pleasure in a living being than its desires demand; and it is less than 1 when the amount of pleasure falls short of the sum of desires. However, the fraction can never become zero as long as the numerator has even the slightest value. If a person were to take stock before death, and were to imagine the amount of pleasure derived from a particular drive (for example, hunger) distributed over the course of a lifetime to meet all the demands of that drive, the pleasure experienced might have only a small value; but it can never become worthless. With the amount of pleasure remaining constant, the value of the joy of life decreases as the needs of a living being increase. The same applies to the sum of all life in nature. The greater the number of living beings in relation to the number of those who can find full satisfaction of their drives, the lower the average pleasure value of life. The rewards of life’s pleasures, which are offered to us through our instincts, become less valuable when one cannot hope to redeem them in full. If I have enough to eat for three days and must then go hungry for another three days, the pleasure of those three days of eating is not diminished by this. But I must then imagine it spread out over six days, whereby its value for my nutritional drive is reduced by half. The same applies to the magnitude of pleasure in relation to the degree of my need. If I am hungry enough for two buttered rolls and can get only one, the pleasure derived from that one has only half the value it would have if I were full after eating it. This is the way in which the value of a pleasure is determined in life. It is measured against the needs of life. Our desires are the yardstick; pleasure is what is measured. The pleasure of satiety derives its value solely from the presence of hunger; and it derives a value of a certain magnitude from the ratio in which it stands to the magnitude of the existing hunger.

[ 35 ] Unfulfilled desires in our lives cast a shadow even on our satisfied desires and diminish the value of pleasurable moments. However, one can also speak of the present value of a pleasurable sensation. This value is all the smaller the less the pleasure is in relation to the duration and intensity of our desire.

[ 36 ] A pleasure is of full value to us if its duration and intensity correspond exactly to our desire. A quantity of pleasure smaller than our desire diminishes the value of pleasure; a larger one produces an unwanted surplus, which is experienced as pleasure only as long as we are able to increase our desire while enjoying it. If we are unable to keep pace with the increasing pleasure by increasing our desire, the pleasure turns into displeasure. The object that would otherwise satisfy us overwhelms us against our will, and we suffer as a result. This is proof that pleasure has value for us only as long as we can measure it against our desire. An excess of pleasant sensation turns into pain. We can observe this particularly in people whose desire for any kind of pleasure is very low. For people whose appetite has become dulled, eating easily becomes a source of disgust. This, too, shows that desire is the measure of pleasure.

[ 37 ] Now, the pessimist might argue that the unsatisfied drive for food brings not only the displeasure of deprived pleasure, but also actual pain, torment, and misery into the world. In this regard, he can point to the nameless misery of people plagued by worries about food; to the sum of displeasure that arises indirectly for such people from the lack of food. And if he wishes to apply his claim to non-human nature as well, he can point to the torments of animals that starve to death in certain seasons due to a lack of food. The pessimist claims that these evils far outweigh the amount of pleasure brought into the world by the instinct for food.

[ 38 ] There is no doubt that one can compare pleasure and displeasure and determine which of the two prevails, just as one does with gain and loss. But if pessimism believes that there is a surplus on the side of displeasure, and thinks it can conclude from this that life is worthless, it is already mistaken insofar as it makes a calculation that does not hold true in real life.

[ 39 ] In each specific case, our desire is directed toward a particular object. As we have seen, the pleasurable value of satisfaction will be all the greater the greater the amount of pleasure is in relation to the magnitude of our desire. ^{2We disregard here the case where pleasure turns into displeasure due to an excessive increase in pleasure.} However, the magnitude of our desire also determines the amount of displeasure we are willing to accept in order to attain pleasure. We do not compare the amount of displeasure with that of pleasure, but with the magnitude of our desire. Someone who takes great pleasure in eating will, because of the enjoyment in better times, find it easier to endure a period of hunger than another who lacks this pleasure in satisfying the drive for food. The woman who wants to have a child does not compare the pleasure she derives from having the child with the amounts of displeasure resulting from pregnancy, childbirth, childcare, and so on, but with her desire to have the child.

[ 40 ] We never seek an abstract pleasure of a certain magnitude, but rather concrete satisfaction in a very specific way. If we strive for a pleasure that must be satisfied by a specific object or sensation, we cannot be satisfied by receiving another object or sensation that gives us a pleasure of equal magnitude. For those who strive for satiety, the pleasure derived from it cannot be replaced by one of equal magnitude produced by a walk. Only if our desire were generally striving for a specific quantity of pleasure would it immediately cease if this pleasure could not be attained without a quantity of displeasure that surpasses it in magnitude. But since satisfaction is sought in a specific way, pleasure occurs with fulfillment even when a greater amount of displeasure must be accepted along with it. Because the drives of living beings move in a specific direction and set out toward a concrete goal, the possibility ceases to exist of taking into account the amount of displeasure encountered on the way to this goal as an equally valid factor. If the desire is strong enough that, after overcoming the displeasure—no matter how great it may be in absolute terms—it still remains to some degree, then the pleasure of satisfaction can still be fully savored. Desire, therefore, does not relate aversion directly to the pleasure attained, but indirectly, by relating its own magnitude (in proportion) to that of the aversion. The issue is not whether the pleasure or displeasure to be attained is greater, but whether the desire for the desired goal or the resistance of the opposing displeasure is greater. If this resistance is greater than the desire, then the latter yields to the inevitable, wanes, and ceases to strive. Because satisfaction is demanded in a specific way, the pleasure associated with it acquires a significance that makes it possible, once satisfaction has been achieved, to factor in the necessary amount of displeasure only to the extent that it has diminished the measure of our desire. If I am a passionate lover of distant views, I never calculate: how much pleasure the view from the mountain peak gives me, directly compared to the displeasure of the laborious ascent and descent. I do, however, consider whether, after overcoming the difficulties, my desire for the view will still be vivid enough. Only indirectly, through the intensity of the desire, can pleasure and displeasure together produce a result. The question is therefore not whether pleasure or displeasure is present in excess, but whether the will to pleasure is strong enough to overcome the displeasure.

[ 41 ] Proof of the truth of this assertion is the fact that pleasure is valued more highly when it must be earned through great discomfort than when it falls into our laps, as it were, like a gift from heaven. When suffering and torment have dampened our desire, and the goal is nevertheless achieved, then the pleasure is all the greater in proportion to the remaining amount of desire. But this proportion, as I have shown, represents the value of the pleasure (cf. p. 221ff.). Further proof is provided by the fact that living beings (including humans) continue to develop their instincts as long as they are able to endure the opposing pains and torments. And the struggle for existence is merely the consequence of this fact. Existing life strives for fulfillment, and only that part gives up the struggle whose desires are stifled by the force of mounting difficulties. Every living being seeks food until the lack of it destroys its life. And humans, too, only take their own lives when they believe (rightly or wrongly) that they cannot achieve the life goals they deem desirable. But as long as he still believes in the possibility of achieving what he considers desirable, he fights against all torments and pains. Philosophy would first have to teach man the view that will has meaning only when pleasure outweighs displeasure; by nature, they seek to attain the objects of their desire if they can endure the displeasure that becomes necessary in the process, no matter how great it may be. Such a philosophy, however, would be erroneous, because it makes human volition dependent on a condition (the excess of pleasure over displeasure) that is originally foreign to human beings. The original measure of volition is desire, and this prevails as long as it can. One can compare the calculation that life, not a rational philosophy, makes when pleasure and displeasure come into play in the satisfaction of a desire, with the following. If I am forced, take twice as many bad apples as good ones when buying a certain quantity of apples—because the seller wants to clear his space—I will not hesitate for a moment to take the bad apples if I may estimate the value of the smaller quantity of good ones so highly that I am willing to bear the cost of disposing of the bad goods in addition to the purchase price. This example illustrates the relationship between the amounts of pleasure and displeasure produced by an impulse. I do not determine the value of the good apples by subtracting their total from that of the bad ones, but rather by whether the former retain a value despite the presence of the latter.

[ 42 ] Just as I ignore the bad apples when enjoying the good ones, so I give myself over to the satisfaction of a desire after I have shaken off the necessary torments.

[ 43 ] Even if pessimism were correct in its assertion that there is more pain than pleasure in the world, this would have no bearing on volition, for living beings still strive for the remaining pleasure. Empirical proof that pain outweighs pleasure, if it were to be established, would indeed be suitable for demonstrating the futility of that philosophical school of thought which sees the value of life in an excess of pleasure (eudaemonism), but it would not serve to portray volition in general as irrational; for the will does not depend on an excess of pleasure, but on the amount of pleasure remaining after the subtraction of displeasure. This still appears as a goal worth striving for.

[ 44 ] Attempts have been made to refute pessimism by claiming that it is impossible to calculate the surplus of pleasure or pain in the world. The possibility of any calculation rests on the fact that the items to be taken into account can be compared with one another in terms of magnitude. Now, every displeasure and every pleasure has a specific magnitude (intensity and duration). We can also compare sensations of pleasure of different kinds, at least approximately, in terms of their magnitude. We know whether a good cigar or a good joke gives us more pleasure. There is thus no objection to the comparability of different kinds of pleasure and displeasure in terms of their magnitude. And the researcher who sets out to determine the surplus of pleasure or displeasure in the world proceeds from entirely justified premises. One may claim that the pessimistic results are erroneous, but one must not doubt the possibility of a scientific estimation of the quantities of pleasure and displeasure and thus the determination of the balance of pleasure. It is incorrect, however, to claim that anything follows for human volition from the results of this calculation. The cases in which we truly make the value of our activity dependent on whether pleasure or displeasure shows a surplus are those in which we are indifferent to the objects toward which our actions are directed. If my aim is to treat myself to some pleasure after work through a game or light entertainment, and I am completely indifferent as to what I do for this purpose, I ask myself: what brings me the greatest surplus of pleasure? And I will certainly refrain from an activity if the balance tips toward the side of displeasure. When we want to buy a toy for a child, we consider what will give them the most joy when making our choice. In all other cases, we do not base our decisions exclusively on the balance of pleasure.

[ 45 ] Thus, while pessimistic ethicists believe that by demonstrating that aversion outweighs pleasure, they can lay the groundwork for selfless dedication to cultural work, they fail to consider that human will, by its very nature, cannot be influenced by this realization. Human endeavor is directed toward the degree of satisfaction possible after overcoming all difficulties. The hope for this satisfaction is the basis of human activity. The work of each individual and all cultural work springs from this hope. Pessimistic ethics believes it must present the pursuit of happiness as impossible for humans, so that they may devote themselves to their actual moral duties. But these moral duties are nothing other than concrete natural and spiritual drives; and their satisfaction is sought despite the displeasure that accompanies it. The pursuit of happiness, which pessimism seeks to eradicate, therefore does not exist at all. But the duties that man has to perform, he performs because, by virtue of his nature, once he has truly recognized their nature, he wants to perform them. Pessimistic ethics claims that man can only devote himself to what he recognizes as his life’s task once he has given up the pursuit of pleasure. But no ethics can ever conceive of any other life tasks than the realization of the satisfactions demanded by human desires and the fulfillment of one’s moral ideals. No ethics can take away the pleasure one derives from this fulfillment of what one desires. When the pessimist says: do not strive for pleasure, for you can never attain it; strive for what you recognize as your task, the reply must be: that is human nature, and it is the invention of a philosophy wandering down the wrong path when it is claimed that man strives merely for happiness. He strives for the satisfaction of what his nature desires and has the concrete objects of this striving in view, not an abstract “happiness”; and fulfillment is a pleasure to him. What pessimistic ethics demands—not striving for pleasure, but for the attainment of what you recognize as your life’s task—thus strikes at the very thing that man, by his very nature, wants. Man does not first need to be turned upside down by philosophy; he does not first need to cast off his nature in order to be moral. Morality lies in the pursuit of a goal recognized as justified; to follow it lies in human nature, as long as a displeasure associated with it does not paralyze the desire for it. And this is the essence of all true willing. Ethics does not rest on the eradication of all striving for pleasure, so that anemic abstract ideas may establish their dominion where no strong longing for the enjoyment of life stands in their way, but rather on the strong, by ideal intuition sustained will that achieves its goal, even if the path to it is a thorny one.

[ 46 ] Moral ideals spring from the moral imagination of human beings. Their realization depends on people desiring them strongly enough to overcome pain and suffering. They are his intuitions, the driving forces that his mind sets in motion; he wants them because their realization is his highest pleasure. He has no need to first let ethics forbid him from striving for pleasure, only to then be commanded as to what he should strive for. He will strive for moral ideals if his moral imagination is active enough to inspire him with intuitions that give his will the strength to prevail against the resistances inherent in his nature, which also include necessary aversion.

[ 47 ] Those who strive for ideals of noble grandeur do so because these ideals are the very essence of their being, and their realization will be a pleasure to them that dwarfs the mere gratification derived from the satisfaction of everyday instincts. Idealists revel intellectually in the realization of their ideals.

[ 48 ] Anyone who wishes to eradicate the pleasure derived from the satisfaction of human desire must first turn people into slaves who act not because they want to, but only because they must. For it is the attainment of what one desires that brings pleasure. What is called the good is not what a person ought to do, but what he wants when he brings his full, true human nature to fruition. Anyone who does not recognize this must first drive out of a person what he wants, and then have him from the outside prescribed what he is to give as the content of his will.

[ 49 ] Human beings attribute value to the fulfillment of a desire because it springs from their very nature. What is achieved has value because it is willed. If one denies the value of the object of human will as such, then one must derive valuable goals from something that human beings do not will.

[ 50 ] An ethics based on pessimism stems from a disregard for moral imagination. Only those who do not believe the individual human spirit is capable of determining the content of its own aspirations can seek the sum total of volition in the longing for pleasure. The unimaginative person creates no moral ideas. They must be given to him. That he strives for the satisfaction of his base desires—physical nature sees to that. But the development of the whole human being also includes desires that originate in the spirit. Only if one believes that humans do not possess these at all can one claim that they should receive them from outside. Then one is also justified in saying that he is obligated to do something he does not want to do. Any ethics that demands of a person that he suppress his will in order to fulfill tasks he does not want to perform does not take into account the whole person, but rather one who lacks the capacity for spiritual desire. For the harmoniously developed human being, the so-called ideas of the good are not outside but within the circle of his being. Moral action does not lie in the eradication of a one-sided self-will, but in the full development of human nature. Anyone who believes that moral ideals can only be attained if a person kills his own will does not realize that these ideals are just as much desired by man as the satisfaction of so-called animal instincts.

[ 51 ] There is no denying that the views described here can easily be misunderstood. Immature people lacking moral imagination tend to regard the instincts of their half-formed nature as the full essence of humanity, and reject all moral ideas not generated by themselves, so that they can “live it up” undisturbed. It goes without saying that what is true for the fully developed human being does not apply to half-developed human nature. One who must first be brought, through education, to the point where his moral nature breaks through the shells of base passions: of such a person, one may not demand what applies to the mature human being. Here, however, the focus should not be on what must be instilled in the undeveloped human being, but rather on what lies in the nature of the mature human being. For the possibility of freedom must be demonstrated; this, however, does not appear in actions arising from sensual or emotional compulsion, but in those sustained by spiritual intuitions.

[ 52 ] This mature individual derives his value from himself. He does not seek pleasure, which is bestowed upon him as a gift of grace from nature or the Creator; nor does he fulfill an abstract duty, which he recognizes as such only after he has cast aside the pursuit of pleasure. He acts as he wills, that is, in accordance with his ethical intuitions; and he perceives the attainment of what he wills as his true enjoyment of life. He determines the value of life by the relationship between what has been attained and what has been striven for. Ethics, which substitutes mere ought for will, and mere duty for inclination, consequently determines the value of a person by the ratio of what duty demands to what he fulfills. It measures a person by a standard situated outside his being. — The view developed here refers the person back to himself. It recognizes as the true value of life only that which the individual, in accordance with his own will, regards as such. It knows no more of a value of life not recognized by the individual than of a purpose of life not arising from him. It sees in the fully realized, essential individual his own master and his own estimator.

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Addendum to the 1918 New Edition

[ 53 ] One can misunderstand what is presented in this section if one clings to the apparent objection: human volition as such is precisely what is irrational; one must demonstrate this irrationality to him, and then he will realize that the goal of ethical striving must lie in the ultimate liberation from volition. I was, however, confronted with such an apparent objection by an authority on the matter, who told me that it is precisely the philosopher’s task to make up for what the thoughtlessness of animals and most humans fails to do: to take a true stock of life. But whoever raises this objection fails to see the main point: if freedom is to be realized, then in human nature the will must be sustained by intuitive thought; at the same time, however, it follows that a will can also be determined by something other than intuition, and only in the free realization of intuition flowing from human existence does the moral and its value arise. Ethical individualism is suited to presenting morality in its full dignity, for it does not hold that what is truly moral is that which brings about an external correspondence between a will and a norm, but rather that which arises from the human being when he develops moral will as an integral part of his full being, so that to do what is immoral appears to him as a mutilation, a crippling of his being.