Esej Tina Tihomira Eržića s International Philosophy Olympiad
THE INTRODUCTION
Our minds need not travel into ages long past to remember a time where monstrous men slammed their
feet against the hard rock of our streets. We need not go much further than Bari, the very host of this
Olympiad, to reminisce on such history. Men of unspeakably despicable and disgusting deeds, men of souls
rotten beyond saving and all redemption—leaders of war machines—and the abolishers of freedom. The
elders of our bloodlines saw their tyrannous rule, one guised under righteousness and justice; claiming that
all the skeletons in their closets are mere stepping stones for achieving the ultimate good. Propaganda flew
like a river in every street. Their lies were inescapable. And the consequences of their actions are still felt,
decades into the future. Now, dear reader, I inquire, to you specifically; do you deem these fascist beasts as
men who knew exactly what they were doing and merely abandoned all reverence towards general
prosperity, or were they, as Mary Wollstonecraft describes, men who mistook their oppressive regimes for
happiness?
After that brief introduction into the thematic, allow me to properly explain my goals. In this essay, I aim to
fully dissect Mary Wollstonecraft’s words, explain how it relates to ethics and philosophy of politics, create
a thought experiment to immerse you into the topic and further reinforce my arguments, and ultimately
partially disagree with her thesis. I additionally plans on forging my own terminology (however, it appears
on page 5 and onwards) to describe certain ethical scenarios and highlight exactly why I consider fascistic
rulers and the like to be irredeemable and despicable. For your convenience, I shall place all my custom
terminology into the document’s footer so you need not keep scrolling up and down in case you get lost; this
is not to be demeaning, yet merely to ensure all my claims are fully understood. Finally, allow me to
formalise the very thesis of this essay: it shall be Mary Wollstonecraft’s quote and its deconstruction.
THE EXPANSION
As I had already stated, I shall begin the philosophical investigation of this quote by thoroughly dissecting it.
For the sake of readability and structure, I will split the quote into two distinct parts, then proceed to begin
with the analysis. However, before this, I must define some crucial terms to avoid ambiguity.
Wollstonecraft draws attention to some major terms (which are subject to uncertainty due to their rather
relative nature): goodness, evil, and happiness.
I will take a rather pragmatic stance on the definitions of these words. Goodness, I take, is doing that
benefits the most amount of people in the long term, regardless if it’s two, three, or a thousand people.
In accordance with Fletcher’s Situation ethics, I will also claim that there are no universal rules when it
comes to ethical doing, yet only case by case scenarios where we must judge what is best. For the
definition of goodness, I deem the personal cost of achieving it to be irrelevant. When completely isolated,
the doings are identical; regardless if it’s done by a cripple or a healthy man. This sounds immensely
controversial and heartless, but do not misunderstand: I am not talking about the character of the person,
yet merely the doing itself. The deed of giving a homeless person on the street 10 euro is fully independent
of the person who does it. This is to say the following: goodness does not discriminate (based on who it’s
done to or by who). Note that this definition also excludes the motivation behind the deed which leads to
goodness for the exact same arguments I provided previously in the case of personal cost. Let us move
onto evil, which I deem to be the direct antithesis of goodness. I will take it as the following: the doing that
causes harm to any amount of individuals. I wish to note the difference in the language of the two
definitions: goodness uses “the most amount of people”, whilst evil uses “any amount”. In this way I am
taking an almost utilitarian perception of goodness, which focuses on number, whilst a far more generalist
view of evil. In the case of evil, I will also ignore the person doing it, the personal cost, as well as the
motivation behind it. To reiterate, the deeds are objective; the driving force is a matter of metaethics and
further discussion. I am focusing on the former- a completely pragmatic view, as Mary Wollstonecraft’s
quote is utilitarian by nature. In the segment I am given, she does not go on to explain why or how this is:
yet it’s merely doing evil due to thinking it’ll achieve goodness. It isn’t a matter of motivation, yet a
combination of deed and expected outcome. She indeed does mention “good he seeks”, but I hardly
consider this an elaboration, hence why I am taking a pragmatic stance. Finally, I will define happiness as
doing that results in a positive emotional reaction of the person doing it. Often, it is difficult to fully
intellectualize and argument our emotions, perhaps even impossible, so I therefore claim it is not rational
nor fully based in philosophy. Happiness is a consequence of doing, which can either be goodness, evil, or
neutral doing. For reference, I take neutral doing as doing that does not benefit nor harm anybody. Think
of walking down the steps to get somewhere, or something as simple as breathing.
- “It may be confidently asserted that no man chooses evil, because it is evil; he only mistakes it for
happiness, the good he seeks.”
Mary Wollstonecraft claims no man chooses evil for the sake of it, yet that all evil done is a mere
aberration, or better said a mirage of happiness, or, even more broadly, goodness. This, additionally,
creates another unspoken claim: true evil does not exist. If all evil is merely an attempt to reach
happiness, then we can conclude that evil for the sake of it is incompatible with Wollstonecraft’s claim.
Verily, this indeed does hold true in everyday scenarios; at times, people really do make mistakes due
to being falsely convinced they are doing something good for another. Let us take overprotective
parents for an example: whilst they mean well, to keep their children away from the dark evils of the
world, they often end up sheltering them and not allowing them to live as they should or want to. It
leads to conflict and volatile emotions, driving a wedge between child and parent. This scenario fits the
former part of Wollstonecraft’s quote perfectly: they do not mean to do evil, or anything negative at
all, yet it still happens regardless of their motivations, whilst they aim to achieve happiness in knowing
that their child is safe and healthy. I will focus on the questionability of this claim in a later part of the
essay.
- “And the desire of rectifying these mistakes, is the noble ambition of an enlightened
understanding, the impulse of feelings that Philosophy invigorates.”
The base of this quote lies in the following: “noble ambition of an enlightened understanding”. In order to
rectify mistakes, we first must understand that they indeed are mistakes, and have the necessary
knowledge and courage in order to correct them. Understanding the problem and its fix is precisely howcorrection happens. However, this is not always so simple. Often, people do have the desire to ameliorate
wrongdoings or mere mistakes, yet they do not always have the answer of how to do so. We must be
careful in fully understanding the causal relationship, otherwise we arrive at a conclusion which claims that
wanting to rectify something implies you also fully understand it and how to do so, which I believe I
demonstrated is not the always the case. To conclude, you may spot a fault and want to do something
about it, but not have the courage to fix it, or the knowledge. Everyone may recognise when a car refuses to
start or when it has a flat tyre, but not everyone knows why it won’t start or how to replace a tyre. With
that out of the way, let us touch on the last part of the latter half of her quote: “the impulse of feelings that
Philosophy invigorates”. I agree with this claim under one condition: we must take philosophy as a
formalisation of human thought. I am aware this may be rather controversial, but I shall provide
argumentation for this being the case.
CONTINGENT ON THE HUMAN CONDITION: Philosophy as a term and concept is not a necessary being. It
arose when humans assumed constant shelter and had steady sources of nutrition and hydration; it is,
essentially, a consequence of settling down. Before it, people had no reason to truly ponder on the biggest
questions in life, yet we can still be certain they operated on rules and authority, both of which are
nowadays subject to philosophical debate. To conclude: without humans being fully settled, formal
philosophy would not exist, but the things it explores would persist. This proves that philosophy is a mere
formalisation of human thought and behaviour, for even without its development, we still apply the
concepts it encompasses.
SUBJECT TO SOCIETAL NORMS AND TIME PERIOD: Human thought is influenced by environment and
societal beliefs. There is no better example for this assertion than slavery and fascistic regimes. In his work
Politics, Aristotle asserts people can be divided into masters by nature and slaves by nature, but also spots
an error in his reasoning: sometimes, masters can be in the position of slaves due to being victims of war
(as Greeks took the people they defeated in war as slaves), but nonetheless chooses to ignore the
inconsistency and moves on because slavery was necessary for Athena and incredibly convenient for
slavers. We see that even in the case of great philosophers, they are still subject to being influenced by
their surroundings, making their own philosophy biased. This, once more, goes on to prove that philosophy
comes directly from human thought.
This digression was necessary to fully understand my stance towards Wollstonecraft’s quote. It would not
be a thorough examination and deconstruction had I not provided clear argumentation as to why I agree or
why not. After all, the point of philosophy is to be capable of defending and asserting positions. Not to
mention, comprehending my stances on philosophical topics allows me to be more concise in all following
reasoning. Now, after a deep dive into Wollstonecraft’s thoughts, let us move onto the next section.
LINK TO ETHICS
Understanding and explaining morality is the beating heart of ethics. Goodness and evil are nought else
than applications of the principles we call morals. I had already explained what I consider goodness, but
now I shall focus on the aspect of relativity and reinforce my utilitarian stance in this essay. This relates to
the quote in the following way: if we fully ignore what goodness truly entails, then we cannot even begin to
differentiate it from evil, nor can we vindicate harmful and monstrous deeds. To reason properly,
understanding must precede argumentation.
The difference between objective and relative morality has been a hot topic in many philosophical circles. Here, for the sake of readability and clarity, I shall offer a dialogue between the two conflicting positions in
the style of early philosophers.
O will stand for Objective, whilst R will represent Relative.
O: If morality truly is relative, then no two people can say the same deed is right or wrong. As we see in
everyday life, everyone can agree that murder is inherently bad, and everyone can also agree that saving
lives is good. How do you reconcile this disconnect?
R: This position ignores the societal aspect in determining morals. There are objectively constructive and
destructive behaviours for our unity, so people decided that actions which risk the integrity of the whole
are negative, whilst those which glue people together are positive. In this case, murder is destructive due to
creating fear and reducing the populace, whilst saving lives is constructive due to forging bonds and
preserving the populace.
O: Whilst this does provide a satisfying answer, it nonetheless fails to explain exactly how we deem
something is destructive or constructive—if society is brought together by public executions and the such,
which we do see throughout history—then we arrive exactly where we were. Instead of saying no two
people, we can simply broaden it to no two societies or cultures.
R: Indeed, but we also mustn’t look at history through modern lens. It is a fact that what we currently deem
as immoral was once moral, but we learned from it and developed our ethics. Slavery used to be common
amongst many cultures indeed, but we completely vindicate it in the 21st century. Objective morality fails to
provide an explanation as to why societies still did despicable deeds even if there is an absolute measure of
right and wrong. Relativists can simply say that humans learned. What is the alternative? Intentional evil? That is, easily, far worse than the provided alternative.
The purpose of this dialogue was to further reinforce a relativist stance in morality which largely relates to
Wollstonecraft’s quote. Goodness depends on society and the individual—human thought, as was
previously stated—it is a shaky concept which unfortunately changes its shape with time. This is why a
utilitarian stance serves us best for the purposes of this essay, as claiming that goodness is whatever
benefits the most amount of people can be applied regardless of destructiveness or constructiveness. To
conclude, this segment had two purposes: firstly, to demonstrate philosophical understanding, and
secondly, to fully justify my utilitarian stance.
LINK TO PHILOSOPHY OF POLITICS
Many political scientists will assert the very essence of politics is to further your own interests. This relates
to the topic at hand by the former half of the quote. You go out to vote for the candidate you want because
you think it’s exactly what the unit you live in requires, or at least, because you consider them to be the
lesser evil compared to others. I will now draw a link between democracy and Wollstonecraft’s principle
that nobody chooses evil willingly.
Let us consider a thought experiment. You are a citizen in the Weimar Republic after the first world war—
the greatest military conflict the world had seen up to that point, which led to millions upon millions of
dead men, great hunger, economic downfall, and immense tension in global politics. The inflation is getting
so bad that you must carry comedic amounts of paper bills just to go buy something as simple as bread.
The whole world is against you—mocking you, calling you monsters, heathens to be destroyed—imposing
heavy sanctions upon you for deeds you personally did not commit, forcing you to live worse than livestock
for years on end. Then, a spark. A speaker arises from the dust, promising riches and glory, convincing you
there is a brighter future for German citizens—that there is, indeed, light at the end of the dark tunnel!
After being so deeply mistreated, you finally have a chance to manifest your own destiny and live
respectable lives—all you must do is vote for this man. I ask you, dear reader, would you consider yourself
despicable for voting for this man? I believe most will agree the answer is no. This is exactly how we can
combine Wollstonecraft’s thoughts and democracy—no man chooses for whom he considers to be evil. No
man votes for a bad politician, yet one they confide in to bring about a better future. German citizens
mistook their monster of a leader for happiness.
Do not think I am justifying Nazism nor Hitler’s actions. That would be a deep misunderstanding of my
point. I am merely explaining how he was chosen to lead, and how it relates to Wollstonecraft’s quote.
Nothing else. He imposed his will onto others and caused great oppression and pain to many, many
innocent people. Yet, we find ourselves in a position where we must utilise philosophy to properly
argument against Hitler’s actions—or, far more broadly, to argue against imposing your will onto others
without it exclusively being for their wellbeing. By doing this, I will start pointing out the flaw in
Wollstonecraft’s assertion—that it may not be a universal rule as she claims it to be. This leads us to the
next section of the essay.
KAIROS, ACTIO, AND QUIETUS
In this part of the essay I shall introduce my custom terminology. Let us, once more, consider a thought
experiment for the sake of clarity.
You’ve noticed a shift in a good friend of yours. He’s usually far too charming for his own good, social, an
excellent talker, really—but recently, he’s been… different. Quiet. Too quiet. Lacks the usual wit in
conversations, closes off and isolates every chance he gets. Concerned, you approach him on a lonely night
and inquire if anything’s wrong—the situation seems severe, this hasn’t only been going on for a couple of
days. It’s been weeks. He opens up to you, cries his heart out on your shoulder, then makes you promise to
not tell anybody of his problems. You promise, and move on with your life. Just a couple of days later, a
mutual friend starts complaining about how the first friend isn’t answering her calls or messages,
completely disregarding their plans and overall treating her like a ghost. She’s grown angry with him—
irritated, volatile, and ready to give him a piece of her mind. You find yourself in a situation where you
decide on the behalf of another.
This is what I will call kairos, a Greek word meaning critical moment. It is defined as a position where you
find yourself having superior moral power, with the ability to decide on behalf of another if they’re
unable to or unwilling. Whilst it may seem similar to moral luck, I disagree—the latter half of the definition
differentiates it enough to warrant a different term. Kairos is specifically a position where you make
decisions on the behalf of others. Kairos here would be the position in which you decide to tell the mutual
friend what’s going on with the first friend, and get her to leave him alone or at least help him rather than
yell at him, or to remain quiet and let things play out as they normally would, because of the promise you
made. Let us consider both choices.
You decide to break the promise. Some arbitrary vow isn’t worth more than the wellbeing of your friend.
You refuse to stand by quietly and watch him suffer alone—after all, depression hates company. You stop
her, and explain the situation to her, forcing her to either cool off or go help him. If she won’t do either of
those, then she shouldn’t meet him at all.
This decision I will call actio, from the Latin word meaning action. Actio is defined as doing what you deem
to be the best for the person you’re deciding for. It may be selfish, it may not even align with the wishes of
the person—yet, what matters is that you did what you deemed best. Actio is heavy, difficult—a burden, an
invitation to suffering. Regardless of what you do, you’ll regret it. This will be important for my
disagreement with Mary Wollstonecraft. Now, let us look at the alternative option.
You choose to keep quiet. After all, you made a promise—what kind of person would you be if you broke
your own principles? If he wishes to be kept alone, then you’ll abide by his wishes. It’s better to maintain
his trust. He’ll come around eventually, just give him time.
And this is what I call quietus, from the Latin word meaning silent or untraceable. Quietus is defined as the
lack of doing that itself is an act of doing, be it because of unwillingness or fear of the result. To choose
quietus is to completely ignore the power you have in kairos. In this case, it is upholding a promise and
keeping quiet, even if it ends up being far more harmful for your friend instead of simply breaking the
promise.
Now that I’ve fully explained the necessary terms, allow me to construct my disagreement with
Wollstonecraft.
THE DISCONNECT
I have already gone in depth on exactly why I agree with the latter half of Wollstonecraft’s quote, but now
it is time to focus on the part with which I disagree: that nobody willingly chooses evil. I will use fascistic
leaders as an example.
Adolf Hitler had numerous programs and declarations that resulted in limiting or entirely removing the
rights of either all citizens or the groups of people he targeted. He was in a constant state of kairos,
deciding on the behalf of others because they weren’t allowed to (unable to) to make decisions for
themselves. He abused the power he had, and this action is what I will call malus actio, a Latin syntagm
meaning “evil action” or “bad action”, abuse of kairos to limit the freedom of others or endanger them.
Hitler was most definitely choosing evil every single chance he had, and knew that ordering deaths of
millions upon millions didn’t serve anyone. It was a disgusting trick to ensure his power went unchecked.
Through fear, he made sure nobody would dare rebel against him, and that his position as a political god
remained. Adolf Hitler is, unfortunately, far from the only example we can use throughout history.
Mussolini, Stalin, Hirohito, and thousands upon thousands of other tyrants. How can we reconcile
Wollstonecraft’s thoughts and these examples? I assert the following: we cannot.
This is an unbridgeable gap. I believe that saying Hitler thought the deaths of so many Jews, Roma people,
Slavs, and so on lead to goodness is happiness is utter delusion. Genocides of such proportions will never
be justifiable. What you sacrifice in order to gain is not only disproportionate, but completely removes
value from the human life—better said, makes it worthless. I believe that my custom terminology argues
well against this, too. Now, with all the expansions, agreements and disagreements out of the way, we can move on to the final part of the essay.
THE CONCLUSION
In this essay, I deeply dissected Mary Wollstonecraft’s thoughts, expanded on them via extensive
argumentation, made links to ethics and philosophy of politics, introduced my own terminology, and
explained on what I agree with in the given quote and what I disagree with. The primary conclusion is that
whilst yes, the desire to rectify wrongs indeed does come from the flame of philosophy, we cannot be
certain that some wrongs are done in search of goodness or happiness. For everyday concepts it indeed
does apply, but in the case of tyrannical governments and oppressors, it does not apply at all. To fully get
my point across, I will restructure Wollstonecraft’s words to be capable of surviving my objections.
“It may be asserted that in everyday situations with everyday people no man chooses evil, because it is evil;
he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks. And the desire of rectifying these mistakes, is the noble
ambition of an enlightened understanding, the impulse of feelings that Philosophy, which is a formalisation
of our thoughts, invigorates.”
Not everyone will choose evil—but we cannot disregard the monsters that will. For if we do, the blood of
innocence will continue flowing, and the screams will be regarded as silence. Not a single call for help will
be heeded.
“It may be confidently asserted that no man chooses evil, because it is evil; he only mistakes it for
happiness, the good he seeks. And the desire of rectifying these mistakes, is the noble ambition of an
enlightened understanding, the impulse of feelings that Philosophy invigorates.”
- Mary Wollstonecraft
Kairos – position where you find yourself having superior moral power, with the ability to decide on behalf of another if they’re unable to or unwilling
Actio – doing what you deem to be the best for the person you’re deciding for
Malus actio – abuse of kairos to limit the freedom of others or endanger them
Quietus – the lack of doing that itself is an act of doing, be it because of unwillingness or fear of the result
Odgovori