Outlines of a Critical Theory of Ethics · John Dewey
LXXI.
The Cardinal Virtues. The cardinal virtues are marked by 1. _Wholeness._ This or that virtue, not calling the whole character into play, but only some special power, is partial. But a cardinal virtue is not _a_ virtue, but the spirit in which all acts are performed. It lies in the attitude which the agent takes towards duty; his obedience to recognized forms, his readiness to respond to new duties, his enthusiasm in moving forward to new relations. It is a common remark that moral codes change from 'Do not' to 'Do', and from this to 'Be'. A Mosaic code may attempt to regulate the specific acts of life. Christianity says, 'Be ye perfect'. The effort to exhaust the various special right acts is futile. They are not the same for any two men, and they change constantly with the same man. The very words which denote virtues come less and less to mean specific acts, and more the spirit in which conduct occurs. Purity, for example, does not mean freedom from certain limited outward forms of defilement; but comes to signify rightness of natures as a whole, their freedom from all self-seeking or exclusive desire for private pleasure, etc. Thus purity of heart comes to mean perfect goodness.
2. _Disinterestedness._ Any act, to be virtuous, must of course be disinterested, but we may now connect this disinterestedness with the integral nature of moral action just spoken of. Immoral action never takes account of the whole nature of an end; it deflects the end to some ulterior purpose; it bends it to the private satisfaction of the agent; it takes a part of it by making exceptions in favor of self. Bad action is never 'objective'. It is 'abstract'; it takes into account only such portion of the act as satisfies some existing need of the private self. The immoral man shows his partial character again by being full of casuistries, devices by which he can get the act removed from its natural placing and considered in some other light:--this act, for example, _would_ be dishonest, of course, if done under certain circumstances, but since I have certain praiseworthy feelings, certain remote intentions, it may now be considered otherwise. It is a large part of the badness of 'good' people that instead of taking the whole act just as it is, they endeavor to make the natural feelings in their own mind--feelings of charity, or benevolence--do substitute duty for the end aimed at; they excuse wrong acts on the ground that their 'intentions' were good, meaning by intentions the prevailing mood of their mind. It is in this sense that 'hell is paved with good intentions.'
Now it is against this deflection, perversion and mutilating of the act that disinterestedness takes its stand. Disinterested does not mean without interest, but without interest in anything except _the act itself_. The interest is not in the wonderful moods or sentiments with which we do the act; it is not in some ulterior end to be gained by it, or in some private advantage which it will bring, but in the act itself--in the real and concrete relations involved. There is a vague French saying that 'morality is the nature of things.' If this phrase has a meaning it is that moral conduct is not a manifestation of private feelings nor a search for some unattainable ideal, but observance and reproduction of actual relations. And this is the mark of a disinterested character.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.