Summary

As was the fashion in 1759, Adam Smith endeavors to explain what we call right and wrong, as well as why we arrive at these conclusions. The cornerstone of his theory is based on the concept of sympathy. Smith posits that, just as humans are endowed with the sense of sight, they are also equipped with a sense of sympathy. The brief definition of sympathy is the ability for one human to “enter into” the experience of another. This “entering in” does not perfectly mirror the original experience, but critically, it is perceived through the lens of an impartial spectator. This impartiality forms the foundation of all morality.

Because no one can directly access another’s experience, all individuals partake in the imaginary perspective of a person who is devoid of personal bias. For instance, a thief can simultaneously desire the object he has stolen while recognizing the immorality of his actions when judged as though by an impartial spectator. This external perspective becomes the seat of moral intuitions or feelings that guide individual actions.

Justice vs. Beneficence Naturally, the question arises: “Where do the rules come from?” Smith takes an interesting position, but before addressing the source of moral rules, Smith introduces two planes of morality: justice and beneficence.

In Smith’s view, justice represents the bare minimum of morality. It is calculable with great exactness, but it is largely a negative virtue—one could theoretically live justly by doing nothing at all. The second plane of morality is beneficence, which encompasses acts that go beyond justice. Beneficence is highly context-dependent and does not admit precise calculation. It functions more as an art form, where even the greatest practitioners can only offer vague guidance or general principles. Smith contends that any attempt to quantify morality beyond justice is an exercise in futility.

Returning to the question of moral rules: Smith argues that the rules governing justice emerge from the interaction of society with the moral sentiment. Societies must adopt basic rules to function, and when codified over time, these rules become the framework of justice. However, the realm of beneficence is shaped more directly by environmental factors. According to Smith, the moral ideals of a culture are influenced by its unique environmental demands—artistic sensibilities might hold little value in a jungle, while hunting skills would likely go unnoticed in the Louvre.

This distinction between justice and beneficence allows Smith to cleverly reconcile the opposing claims of moral relativism and moral absolutism. He acknowledges that certain moral norms are universally applicable, while also appreciating that cultural differences naturally influence the expectations surrounding acts that go beyond what is justly required of an individual.

Finally, Smith takes the position that moral sentiments precede rational thought. In other words, we feel something to be right or wrong and then use reason to justify our feelings. This stance contrasts sharply with philosophers like Kant, who assert that morality is rooted in rationality. Though this difference may seem superficial, it creates two distinct schools of moral philosophy.

Thoughts

I find this school of thought to be one of the more compelling views of morality, as it balances the two key tensions moralists must grapple with: the complexity and the beauty of humanity. Many popular moral frameworks appear to myopically focus on one at the expense of the other. For example, relativists may persuasively argue that culture largely drives moral understanding; yet this insight often neglects the beauty of a well-ordered life. On the other hand, moral absolutists assert that there is always one correct decision for all people in all situations. This stance, however, fails to account for the complexity of human circumstances and overestimates our ability to comprehend moral truths fully.

“The administration of the great system of the universe… the care of the universal happiness of all rational and sensible beings, is the business of God and not of man. To man is allotted a much humbler department, but one much more suitable to the weakness of his powers, and to the narrowness of his comprehension: the care of his own happiness, of that of his family, his friends, his country.”

As a whole, the book felt like it could have been more succinct, but Smith is nothing if not thorough. One of my favorite sections in the book explores Smith’s observations about how we react differently to actual versus attempted harm. He notes that society readily endorses the harshest penalties for a successful murderer, but rarely demands the same punishment for an attempted murderer, even when the failure was purely accidental. Smith observes that even the perpetrators experience these events differently - the successful murderer typically carries crushing guilt, while the thwarted murderer often feels relief, despite their intentions being identical.

However, one of the book’s weaknesses lies in Smith’s overly optimistic, almost Panglossian view of the world. His treatment of the problem of evil feels superficial—he dismisses it as scarcely worth addressing, arguing that most people enjoy a generally good life most of the time. This oversimplification feels incongruous with the meticulous detail he applies to other topics. This critique of course contradicts my earlier comment about the amount of words he used, so they likely cancel each other out.

Adam Smith