My Dear Jefferson:
I feel we have reached that degree of intimacy where I may address you as I do my friends and school chums. I hope it does not offend you. I have come to treasure the exchange of experiences and ideas that our correspondence has created. And once again, I find I must pay homage to your superior knowledge in many things. While I certainly am interested in the effect my work might have on the attitudes and behavior of men and upon their beliefs, I do not feel myself adequately conversant in the field of moral philosophy to have a strong opinion, or an opinion in which anyone else would have interest. Many have asked about my religious views as well, but I cannot see that they should have any consequence to anyone but myself. At no time am I a quick thinker or writer: whatever I have done in science has solely been by long, pondering, patience and industry. I have never systematically thought much on religion in relation to science, or on morals in relation to society; and without steadily keeping my mind on such subjects for a long period, I am really incapable of writing anything worthy of publication. But I will attempt to respond to you in this private correspondence.
In my years at Cambridge, I studied to be a clergyman, but my enthusiasm was never in that area; I spent more time with my beetle collection. While there also, I fell under the influence of Professor Henslow, who had great knowledge in the fields of botany, entomology, chemistry, mineralogy, and geology. He was also very religious and I saw no conflict then between science and religion. Indeed while onboard the Beagle,I was quite orthodox, for I remember that several of the officers laughed at my belief that the Bible was the unanswerable authority on all matters of moral dimension. But I gradually came to realize that the Old Testament was no more to be trusted than the sacred books of the Hindoos
I must conclude that the old arguments for God’s existence from design in Nature, which formerly seemed so persuasive to me, must now fail since natural selection has been discovered. There seems to be no more design in the variability of organic beings, and in the action of natural selection, than in the course that the wind blows. And while I agree with you that if God is not the author of morality, there must be some other motivating force, my studies do not lead to the conclusion that Nature implants in us a moral instinct or, as you put it, a love for others, unless it can be said that it arises from the process of natural selection, as I will discuss further. I believe that natural selection proves that all sentient beings have been developed in such a manner that pleasurable sensations serve as their habitual guides.
That there is much suffering in the world, no one disputes. Some have imagined that it serves for man’s moral improvement. But the number of men in this world is as nothing compared with that of all other sentient beings, and they often suffer greatly, without any moral improvement. The presence of much suffering agrees well with the view that all organic beings have been developed through variation and natural selection. So to say that all creatures seek pleasure over pain does not answer the morality question. If all seek the same thing, wherein lies the morality of decisions? We are bound to decide our course of action, based upon the perception of the pleasure/pain quotient, and by doing so we enhance the likelihood of our species’ survival. But the enhancement of the likelihood of survival does not seem like a moral impulse; it seems rather an instinctive selfishness. I would not dismiss egoism as easily as your last letter does. Rather than positing the natural implantation of a moral instinct in man, could it not be the result of natural selection, wherein man has learned that social behavior is advantageous to his happiness and to the perpetuation of his species? Or perhaps we could agree by saying that what you refer to as natural implantation of a moral instinct has been implemented by the process of natural selection. I believe, however, that it is the learned behavior of choosing pleasure and avoidance of pain, which has been the catalyst for this “natural” moral instinct.
I hope it will not disturb our emerging friendship for me to suggest that if suffering does improve one’s morals, then the most moral people of the world must be the African Negro race that has been held for so many years in slavery. I have seen enough of this in my travels to know that I abhor it as the primary evil of mankind. While it is well known that you also denounced slavery as contrary to the natural rights of man and as a great blight upon the citizens of parts of your country, as detrimental to the morals of both master and slave, yet you continued to hold slaves yourself. I am most interested in learning from you how you were able to justify this practice and its continuation (until the recent turmoil in your country which seems to have decided the issue, finally). I ask this not to confront, to be impertinent or as a rhetorical question, but in an honest desire to understand, as I am ever the scientist.
Believe me, dear sir, that if I did not so greatly respect you and your great contributions to mankind, I would not ask these questions of you. There are many apologists for slavery whose opinions or rationalizations I would not even care to hear. It is well known, however, that you denounced slavery as repugnant to man and God; and that if the words of your Declaration of Independence are to be given credence, they conflict with the reality then existent and for many years thereafter in parts of your country, and with the actions of some of your most respected men. I hope you will forgive my directness and respond in the spirit of my inquiry, as I am not trained in diplomacy and tact, but only in observation.
I look forward with great eagerness to your response to the issues raised here and to your further reflections upon science and natural philosophy.
Yours most truly,
Charles Darwin
No comments:
Post a Comment