of happiness that matters. Thinking along these lines leads to the Utilitarian or"greatest-happiness"principle(697) You ought always to act so as to maximize happiness, i. e, the right act is the act that results in the greatest amount of happiness overall Note that not all Utilitarians agree that happiness is the greatest good Hedonistic Utilitarians, e.g., believe that pleasure is the greatest good. So you can substitute"pleasure" here if you are so inclined. Mill's version is also known as Eudaimonistic Utilitarianism". Here is another contemporary version of the principle You ought always to act so as to maximize social utility, where social utility" is simply another name for the general welfare For many people, this principle just seems obvious--if we can identify what's genuinely good, then clearly what we ought to do is maximize that. If everything we might do is good only insofar as it brings about happiness, then we ought al ways to judge our actions by this standard Questions: 1. How do we know in a particular case what is going to bring about the most happiness? In many cases we might not know for sure. According to Mill, our ordinary moral rules serve as a rough guide, e. g, in general, keeping promises, not telling lies, doing your duty, are likely to produce the greatest happiness. of course there's no guarantee, and if we determine in advance of acting that normally good results wouldn t occur, then we shouldn t follow the moral rule 2. Suppose you can quantify the happiness of individuals, how should we calculate general welfare? Simply adding amounts of happiness doesn't seem right, because then there would be a moral imperative to produce more people to get more total happiness (Or to eliminate people to reduce the total unhappiness. Plausibly we should aim to maximize average happiness. But then wouldn 't wiping out the chronically unhappy people raise the overall average? What's wrong, then, from the Utilitarian point of view, in doing so? These questions are really just the tip of the iceberg, for Utilitarianism seems to pose quite systematic conflicts with our ordinary moral judgements. How can Utilitarians respond Utilitarianism flouts ordinary moral principles: Within limits we think that promise-keeping is obligatory, even when breaking the promise would lead to better consequences. Suppose I borrow $10. from you and promise to pay it back. In the meantime your parents give you a ton of money and the $10 means nothing to you. Ought I to pay it back? It seems that a Utilitarian would say no: I would be happier/better off if i could keep the money, and it won't make a substantial difference to you; so I maximize happiness by breaking my promise Response there are more effects to be taken into account. There are subtle direct effects like disappointing your expectations, and making myself untrustworthy in people's eyes, and also indirect effects like weakening the institution of promise-keeping. When the indirect effects are considered the calculation favors returning the money What about the idea that death-bed promises are especially to be respected. Someone privately gets me to promise that his fortune will be used to buy a set of diamond-studded collars for his cat. If I break the promise no one is going to be going to think I am untrustworthy, the institution is not going to be weakened, etc. So the indirect effects are reduced to next to nothing. Shouldn't I still keep the promise?of happiness that matters. Thinking along these lines leads to the Utilitarian or "greatest-happiness" principle (697): You ought always to act so as to maximize happiness, i.e., the right act is the act that results in the greatest amount of happiness overall. Note that not all Utilitarians agree that happiness is the greatest good. Hedonistic Utilitarians, e.g., believe that pleasure is the greatest good. So you can substitute "pleasure" here if you are so inclined... Mill's version is also known as "Eudaimonistic Utilitarianism". Here is another contemporary version of the principle: You ought always to act so as to maximize social utility, where "social utility" is simply another name for the general welfare. For many people, this principle just seems obvious--if we can identify what's genuinely good, then clearly what we ought to do is maximize that. If everything we might do is good only insofar as it brings about happiness, then we ought always to judge our actions by this standard. Questions: 1. How do we know in a particular case what is going to bring about the most happiness? In many cases we might not know for sure. According to Mill, our ordinary moral rules serve as a rough guide, e.g., in general, keeping promises, not telling lies, doing your duty, are likely to produce the greatest happiness. Of course there's no guarantee, and if we determine in advance of acting that normally good results wouldn't occur, then we shouldn't follow the moral rule. 2. Suppose you can quantify the happiness of individuals; how should we calculate general welfare? Simply adding amounts of happiness doesn't seem right, because then there would be a moral imperative to produce more people to get more total happiness. (Or to eliminate people to reduce the total unhappiness.) Plausibly we should aim to maximize average happiness. But then wouldn't wiping out the chronically unhappy people raise the overall average? What's wrong, then, from the Utilitarian point of view, in doing so? These questions are really just the tip of the iceberg, for Utilitarianism seems to pose quite systematic conflicts with our ordinary moral judgements. How can Utilitarians respond? Utilitarianism flouts ordinary moral principles: Within limits we think that promise-keeping is obligatory, even when breaking the promise would lead to better consequences. Suppose I borrow $10. from you and promise to pay it back. In the meantime your parents give you a ton of money and the $10 means nothing to you. Ought I to pay it back? It seems that a Utilitarian would say no: I would be happier/better off if I could keep the money, and it won't make a substantial difference to you; so I maximize happiness by breaking my promise. Response: there are more effects to be taken into account. There are subtle direct effects like disappointing your expectations, and making myself untrustworthy in people's eyes, and also indirect effects like weakening the institution of promise-keeping. When the indirect effects are considered the calculation favors returning the money. What about the idea that death-bed promises are especially to be respected. Someone privately gets me to promise that his fortune will be used to buy a set of diamond-studded collars for his cat. If I break the promise no one is going to be disappointed, no one is going to think I am untrustworthy, the institution is not going to be weakened, etc. So the indirect effects are reduced to next to nothing. Shouldn't I still keep the promise?