Chapter 2

TRANSITION FROM POPULAR MORAL PHILOSOPHY

TO THE METAPHYSIC OF MORALS

If we have hitherto drawn our notion of duty from the common use

of our practical reason, it is by no means to be inferred that we have

treated it as an empirical notion. On the contrary, if we attend to

the experience of men's conduct, we meet frequent and, as we ourselves

allow, just complaints that one cannot find a single certain example

of the disposition to act from pure duty. Although many things are

done in conformity with what duty prescribes, it is nevertheless

always doubtful whether they are done strictly from duty, so as to

have a moral worth. Hence there have at all times been philosophers

who have altogether denied that this disposition actually exists at

all in human actions, and have ascribed everything to a more or less

refined self-love. Not that they have on that account questioned the

soundness of the conception of morality; on the contrary, they spoke

with sincere regret of the frailty and corruption of human nature,

which, though noble enough to take its rule an idea so worthy of

respect, is yet weak to follow it and employs reason which ought to

give it the law only for the purpose of providing for the interest

of the inclinations, whether singly or at the best in the greatest

possible harmony with one another.

In fact, it is absolutely impossible to make out by experience

with complete certainty a single case in which the maxim of an action,

however right in itself, rested simply on moral grounds and on the

conception of duty. Sometimes it happens that with the sharpest

self-examination we can find nothing beside the moral principle of

duty which could have been powerful enough to move us to this or

that action and to so great a sacrifice; yet we cannot from this infer

with certainty that it was not really some secret impulse of

self-love, under the false appearance of duty, that was the actual

determining cause of the will. We like them to flatter ourselves by

falsely taking credit for a more noble motive; whereas in fact we

can never, even by the strictest examination, get completely behind

the secret springs of action; since, when the question is of moral

worth, it is not with the actions which we see that we are

concerned, but with those inward principles of them which we do not

see.

Moreover, we cannot better serve the wishes of those who ridicule

all morality as a mere chimera of human imagination over stepping

itself from vanity, than by conceding to them that notions of duty

must be drawn only from experience (as from indolence, people are

ready to think is also the case with all other notions); for or is

to prepare for them a certain triumph. I am willing to admit out of

love of humanity that even most of our actions are correct, but if

we look closer at them we everywhere come upon the dear self which

is always prominent, and it is this they have in view and not the

strict command of duty which would often require self-denial.

Without being an enemy of virtue, a cool observer, one that does not

mistake the wish for good, however lively, for its reality, may

sometimes doubt whether true virtue is actually found anywhere in

the world, and this especially as years increase and the judgement

is partly made wiser by experience and partly, also, more acute in

observation. This being so, nothing can secure us from falling away

altogether from our ideas of duty, or maintain in the soul a

well-grounded respect for its law, but the clear conviction that

although there should never have been actions which really sprang from

such pure sources, yet whether this or that takes place is not at

all the question; but that reason of itself, independent on all

experience, ordains what ought to take place, that accordingly actions

of which perhaps the world has hitherto never given an example, the

feasibility even of which might be very much doubted by one who founds

everything on experience, are nevertheless inflexibly commanded by

reason; that, e.g., even though there might never yet have been a

sincere friend, yet not a whit the less is pure sincerity in

friendship required of every man, because, prior to all experience,

this duty is involved as duty in the idea of a reason determining

the will by a priori principles.

When we add further that, unless we deny that the notion of morality

has any truth or reference to any possible object, we must admit

that its law must be valid, not merely for men but for all rational

creatures generally, not merely under certain contingent conditions or

with exceptions but with absolute necessity, then it is clear that

no experience could enable us to infer even the possibility of such

apodeictic laws. For with what right could we bring into unbounded

respect as a universal precept for every rational nature that which

perhaps holds only under the contingent conditions of humanity? Or how

could laws of the determination of our will be regarded as laws of the

determination of the will of rational beings generally, and for us

only as such, if they were merely empirical and did not take their

origin wholly a priori from pure but practical reason?

Nor could anything be more fatal to morality than that we should

wish to derive it from examples. For every example of it that is set

before me must be first itself tested by principles of morality,

whether it is worthy to serve as an original example, i.e., as a

pattern; but by no means can it authoritatively furnish the conception

of morality. Even the Holy One of the Gospels must first be compared

with our ideal of moral perfection before we can recognise Him as

such; and so He says of Himself, "Why call ye Me (whom you see)

good; none is good (the model of good) but God only (whom ye do not

see)?" But whence have we the conception of God as the supreme good?

Simply from the idea of moral perfection, which reason frames a priori

and connects inseparably with the notion of a free will. Imitation

finds no place at all in morality, and examples serve only for

encouragement, i.e., they put beyond doubt the feasibility of what the

law commands, they make visible that which the practical rule

expresses more generally, but they can never authorize us to set aside

the true original which lies in reason and to guide ourselves by

examples.

If then there is no genuine supreme principle of morality but what

must rest simply on pure reason, independent of all experience, I

think it is not necessary even to put the question whether it is

good to exhibit these concepts in their generality (in abstracto) as

they are established a priori along with the principles belonging to

them, if our knowledge is to be distinguished from the vulgar and to

be called philosophical.

In our times indeed this might perhaps be necessary; for if we

collected votes whether pure rational knowledge separated from

everything empirical, that is to say, metaphysic of morals, or whether

popular practical philosophy is to be preferred, it is easy to guess

which side would preponderate.

This descending to popular notions is certainly very commendable, if

the ascent to the principles of pure reason has first taken place

and been satisfactorily accomplished. This implies that we first found

ethics on metaphysics, and then, when it is firmly established,

procure a hearing for it by giving it a popular character. But it is

quite absurd to try to be popular in the first inquiry, on which the

soundness of the principles depends. It is not only that this

proceeding can never lay claim to the very rare merit of a true

philosophical popularity, since there is no art in being

intelligible if one renounces all thoroughness of insight; but also it

produces a disgusting medley of compiled observations and

half-reasoned principles. Shallow pates enjoy this because it can be

used for every-day chat, but the sagacious find in it only

confusion, and being unsatisfied and unable to help themselves, they

turn away their eyes, while philosophers, who see quite well through

this delusion, are little listened to when they call men off for a

time from this pretended popularity, in order that they might be

rightfully popular after they have attained a definite insight.

We need only look at the attempts of moralists in that favourite

fashion, and we shall find at one time the special constitution of

human nature (including, however, the idea of a rational nature

generally), at one time perfection, at another happiness, here moral

sense, there fear of God. a little of this, and a little of that, in

marvellous mixture, without its occurring to them to ask whether the

principles of morality are to be sought in the knowledge of human

nature at all (which we can have only from experience); or, if this is

not so, if these principles are to be found altogether a priori,

free from everything empirical, in pure rational concepts only and

nowhere else, not even in the smallest degree; then rather to adopt

the method of making this a separate inquiry, as pure practical

philosophy, or (if one may use a name so decried) as metaphysic of

morals,* to bring it by itself to completeness, and to require the

public, which wishes for popular treatment, to await the issue of this

undertaking.

*Just as pure mathematics are distinguished from applied, pure logic

from applied, so if we choose we may also distinguish pure

philosophy of morals (metaphysic) from applied (viz., applied to human

nature). By this designation we are also at once reminded that moral

principles are not based on properties of human nature, but must

subsist a priori of themselves, while from such principles practical

rules must be capable of being deduced for every rational nature,

and accordingly for that of man.

Such a metaphysic of morals, completely isolated, not mixed with any

anthropology, theology, physics, or hyperphysics, and still less

with occult qualities (which we might call hypophysical), is not

only an indispensable substratum of all sound theoretical knowledge of

duties, but is at the same time a desideratum of the highest

importance to the actual fulfilment of their precepts. For the pure

conception of duty, unmixed with any foreign addition of empirical

attractions, and, in a word, the conception of the moral law,

exercises on the human heart, by way of reason alone (which first

becomes aware with this that it can of itself be practical), an

influence so much more powerful than all other springs* which may be

derived from the field of experience, that, in the consciousness of

its worth, it despises the latter, and can by degrees become their

master; whereas a mixed ethics, compounded partly of motives drawn

from feelings and inclinations, and partly also of conceptions of

reason, must make the mind waver between motives which cannot be

brought under any principle, which lead to good only by mere

accident and very often also to evil.

*I have a letter from the late excellent Sulzer, in which he asks me

what can be the reason that moral instruction, although containing

much that is convincing for the reason, yet accomplishes so little? My

answer was postponed in order that I might make it complete. But it is

simply this: that the teachers themselves have not got their own

notions clear, and when they endeavour to make up for this by raking

up motives of moral goodness from every quarter, trying to make

their physic right strong, they spoil it. For the commonest

understanding shows that if we imagine, on the one hand, an act of

honesty done with steadfast mind, apart from every view to advantage

of any kind in this world or another, and even under the greatest

temptations of necessity or allurement, and, on the other hand, a

similar act which was affected, in however low a degree, by a

foreign motive, the former leaves far behind and eclipses the

second; it elevates the soul and inspires the wish to be able to act

in like manner oneself. Even moderately young children feel this

impression, ana one should never represent duties to them in any other

light.

From what has been said, it is clear that all moral conceptions have

their seat and origin completely a priori in the reason, and that,

moreover, in the commonest reason just as truly as in that which is in

the highest degree speculative; that they cannot be obtained by

abstraction from any empirical, and therefore merely contingent,

knowledge; that it is just this purity of their origin that makes them

worthy to serve as our supreme practical principle, and that just in

proportion as we add anything empirical, we detract from their genuine

influence and from the absolute value of actions; that it is not

only of the greatest necessity, in a purely speculative point of view,

but is also of the greatest practical importance, to derive these

notions and laws from pure reason, to present them pure and unmixed,

and even to determine the compass of this practical or pure rational

knowledge, i.e., to determine the whole faculty of pure practical

reason; and, in doing so, we must not make its principles dependent on

the particular nature of human reason, though in speculative

philosophy this may be permitted, or may even at times be necessary;

but since moral laws ought to hold good for every rational creature,

we must derive them from the general concept of a rational being. In

this way, although for its application to man morality has need of

anthropology, yet, in the first instance, we must treat it

independently as pure philosophy, i.e., as metaphysic, complete in

itself (a thing which in such distinct branches of science is easily

done); knowing well that unless we are in possession of this, it would

not only be vain to determine the moral element of duty in right

actions for purposes of speculative criticism, but it would be

impossible to base morals on their genuine principles, even for common

practical purposes, especially of moral instruction, so as to

produce pure moral dispositions, and to engraft them on men's minds to

the promotion of the greatest possible good in the world.

But in order that in this study we may not merely advance by the

natural steps from the common moral judgement (in this case very

worthy of respect) to the philosophical, as has been already done, but

also from a popular philosophy, which goes no further than it can

reach by groping with the help of examples, to metaphysic (which

does allow itself to be checked by anything empirical and, as it

must measure the whole extent of this kind of rational knowledge, goes

as far as ideal conceptions, where even examples fail us), we must

follow and clearly describe the practical faculty of reason, from

the general rules of its determination to the point where the notion

of duty springs from it.

Everything in nature works according to laws. Rational beings

alone have the faculty of acting according to the conception of

laws, that is according to principles, i.e., have a will. Since the

deduction of actions from principles requires reason, the will is

nothing but practical reason. If reason infallibly determines the

will, then the actions of such a being which are recognised as

objectively necessary are subjectively necessary also, i.e., the

will is a faculty to choose that only which reason independent of

inclination recognises as practically necessary, i.e., as good. But if

reason of itself does not sufficiently determine the will, if the

latter is subject also to subjective conditions (particular

impulses) which do not always coincide with the objective

conditions; in a word, if the will does not in itself completely

accord with reason (which is actually the case with men), then the

actions which objectively are recognised as necessary are subjectively

contingent, and the determination of such a will according to

objective laws is obligation, that is to say, the relation of the

objective laws to a will that is not thoroughly good is conceived as

the determination of the will of a rational being by principles of

reason, but which the will from its nature does not of necessity

follow.

The conception of an objective principle, in so far as it is

obligatory for a will, is called a command (of reason), and the

formula of the command is called an imperative.

All imperatives are expressed by the word ought [or shall], and

thereby indicate the relation of an objective law of reason to a will,

which from its subjective constitution is not necessarily determined

by it (an obligation). They say that something would be good to do

or to forbear, but they say it to a will which does not always do a

thing because it is conceived to be good to do it. That is practically

good, however, which determines the will by means of the conceptions

of reason, and consequently not from subjective causes, but

objectively, that is on principles which are valid for every

rational being as such. It is distinguished from the pleasant, as that

which influences the will only by means of sensation from merely

subjective causes, valid only for the sense of this or that one, and

not as a principle of reason, which holds for every one.*

*The dependence of the desires on sensations is called

inclination, and this accordingly always indicates a want. The

dependence of a contingently determinable will on principles of reason

is called an interest. This therefore, is found only in the case of

a dependent will which does not always of itself conform to reason; in

the Divine will we cannot conceive any interest. But the human will

can also take an interest in a thing without therefore acting from

interest. The former signifies the practical interest in the action,

the latter the pathological in the object of the action. The former

indicates only dependence of the will on principles of reason in

themselves; the second, dependence on principles of reason for the

sake of inclination, reason supplying only the practical rules how the

requirement of the inclination may be satisfied. In the first case the

action interests me; in the second the object of the action (because

it is pleasant to me). We have seen in the first section that in an

action done from duty we must look not to the interest in the

object, but only to that in the action itself, and in its rational

principle (viz., the law).

A perfectly good will would therefore be equally subject to

objective laws (viz., laws of good), but could not be conceived as

obliged thereby to act lawfully, because of itself from its subjective

constitution it can only be determined by the conception of good.

Therefore no imperatives hold for the Divine will, or in general for a

holy will; ought is here out of place, because the volition is already

of itself necessarily in unison with the law. Therefore imperatives

are only formulae to express the relation of objective laws of all

volition to the subjective imperfection of the will of this or that

rational being, e.g., the human will.

Now all imperatives command either hypothetically or

categorically. The former represent the practical necessity of a

possible action as means to something else that is willed (or at least

which one might possibly will). The categorical imperative would be

that which represented an action as necessary of itself without

reference to another end, i.e., as objectively necessary.

Since every practical law represents a possible action as good

and, on this account, for a subject who is practically determinable by

reason, necessary, all imperatives are formulae determining an

action which is necessary according to the principle of a will good in

some respects. If now the action is good only as a means to

something else, then the imperative is hypothetical; if it is

conceived as good in itself and consequently as being necessarily

the principle of a will which of itself conforms to reason, then it is

categorical.

Thus the imperative declares what action possible by me would be

good and presents the practical rule in relation to a will which

does not forthwith perform an action simply because it is good,

whether because the subject does not always know that it is good, or

because, even if it know this, yet its maxims might be opposed to

the objective principles of practical reason.

Accordingly the hypothetical imperative only says that the action is

good for some purpose, possible or actual. In the first case it is a

problematical, in the second an assertorial practical principle. The

categorical imperative which declares an action to be objectively

necessary in itself without reference to any purpose, i.e., without

any other end, is valid as an apodeictic (practical) principle.

Whatever is possible only by the power of some rational being may

also be conceived as a possible purpose of some will; and therefore

the principles of action as regards the means necessary to attain some

possible purpose are in fact infinitely numerous. All sciences have

a practical part, consisting of problems expressing that some end is

possible for us and of imperatives directing how it may be attained.

These may, therefore, be called in general imperatives of skill.

Here there is no question whether the end is rational and good, but

only what one must do in order to attain it. The precepts for the

physician to make his patient thoroughly healthy, and for a poisoner

to ensure certain death, are of equal value in this respect, that each

serves to effect its purpose perfectly. Since in early youth it cannot

be known what ends are likely to occur to us in the course of life,

parents seek to have their children taught a great many things, and

provide for their skill in the use of means for all sorts of arbitrary

ends, of none of which can they determine whether it may not perhaps

hereafter be an object to their pupil, but which it is at all events

possible that he might aim at; and this anxiety is so great that

they commonly neglect to form and correct their judgement on the value

of the things which may be chosen as ends.

There is one end, however, which may be assumed to be actually

such to all rational beings (so far as imperatives apply to them,

viz., as dependent beings), and, therefore, one purpose which they not

merely may have, but which we may with certainty assume that they

all actually have by a natural necessity, and this is happiness. The

hypothetical imperative which expresses the practical necessity of

an action as means to the advancement of happiness is assertorial.

We are not to present it as necessary for an uncertain and merely

possible purpose, but for a purpose which we may presuppose with

certainty and a priori in every man, because it belongs to his

being. Now skill in the choice of means to his own greatest well-being

may be called prudence,* in the narrowest sense. And thus the

imperative which refers to the choice of means to one's own happiness,

i.e., the precept of prudence, is still always hypothetical; the

action is not commanded absolutely, but only as means to another

purpose.

*The word prudence is taken in two senses: in the one it may bear

the name of knowledge of the world, in the other that of private

prudence. The former is a man's ability to influence others so as to

use them for his own purposes. The latter is the sagacity to combine

all these purposes for his own lasting benefit. This latter is

properly that to which the value even of the former is reduced, and

when a man is prudent in the former sense, but not in the latter, we

might better say of him that he is clever and cunning, but, on the

whole, imprudent.

Finally, there is an imperative which commands a certain conduct

immediately, without having as its condition any other purpose to be

attained by it. This imperative is categorical. It concerns not the

matter of the action, or its intended result, but its form and the

principle of which it is itself a result; and what is essentially good

in it consists in the mental disposition, let the consequence be

what it may. This imperative may be called that of morality.

There is a marked distinction also between the volitions on these

three sorts of principles in the dissimilarity of the obligation of

the will. In order to mark this difference more clearly, I think

they would be most suitably named in their order if we said they are

either rules of skill, or counsels of prudence, or commands (laws)

of morality. For it is law only that involves the conception of an

unconditional and objective necessity, which is consequently

universally valid; and commands are laws which must be obeyed, that

is, must be followed, even in opposition to inclination. Counsels,

indeed, involve necessity, but one which can only hold under a

contingent subjective condition, viz., they depend on whether this

or that man reckons this or that as part of his happiness; the

categorical imperative, on the contrary, is not limited by any

condition, and as being absolutely, although practically, necessary,

may be quite properly called a command. We might also call the first

kind of imperatives technical (belonging to art), the second

pragmatic* (to welfare), the third moral (belonging to free conduct

generally, that is, to morals).

*It seems to me that the proper signification of the word

pragmatic may be most accurately defined in this way. For sanctions

are called pragmatic which flow properly not from the law of the

states as necessary enactments, but from precaution for the general

welfare. A history is composed pragmatically when it teaches prudence,

i.e., instructs the world how it can provide for its interests better,

or at least as well as, the men of former time.

Now arises the question, how are all these imperatives possible?

This question does not seek to know how we can conceive the

accomplishment of the action which the imperative ordains, but

merely how we can conceive the obligation of the will which the

imperative expresses. No special explanation is needed to show how

an imperative of skill is possible. Whoever wills the end, wills

also (so far as reason decides his conduct) the means in his power

which are indispensably necessary thereto. This proposition is, as

regards the volition, analytical; for, in willing an object as my

effect, there is already thought the causality of myself as an

acting cause, that is to say, the use of the means; and the imperative

educes from the conception of volition of an end the conception of

actions necessary to this end. Synthetical propositions must no

doubt be employed in defining the means to a proposed end; but they do

not concern the principle, the act of the will, but the object and its

realization. E.g., that in order to bisect a line on an unerring

principle I must draw from its extremities two intersecting arcs; this

no doubt is taught by mathematics only in synthetical propositions;

but if I know that it is only by this process that the intended

operation can be performed, then to say that, if I fully will the

operation, I also will the action required for it, is an analytical

proposition; for it is one and the same thing to conceive something as

an effect which I can produce in a certain way, and to conceive myself

as acting in this way.

If it were only equally easy to give a definite conception of

happiness, the imperatives of prudence would correspond exactly with

those of skill, and would likewise be analytical. For in this case

as in that, it could be said: "Whoever wills the end, wills also

(according to the dictate of reason necessarily) the indispensable

means thereto which are in his power." But, unfortunately, the

notion of happiness is so indefinite that although every man wishes to

at. it, yet he never can say definitely and consistently what it is

that he really wishes and wills. The reason of this is that all the

elements which belong to the notion of happiness are altogether

empirical, i.e., they must be borrowed from experience, and

nevertheless the idea of happiness requires an absolute whole, a

maximum of welfare in my present and all future circumstances. Now

it is impossible that the most clear-sighted and at the same time most

powerful being (supposed finite) should frame to himself a definite

conception of what he really wills in this. Does he will riches, how

much anxiety, envy, and snares might he not thereby draw upon his

shoulders? Does he will knowledge and discernment, perhaps it might

prove to be only an eye so much the sharper to show him so much the

more fearfully the evils that are now concealed from him, and that

cannot be avoided, or to impose more wants on his desires, which

already give him concern enough. Would he have long life? who

guarantees to him that it would not be a long misery? would he at

least have health? how often has uneasiness of the body restrained

from excesses into which perfect health would have allowed one to

fall? and so on. In short, he is unable, on any principle, to

determine with certainty what would make him truly happy; because to

do so he would need to be omniscient. We cannot therefore act on any

definite principles to secure happiness, but only on empirical

counsels, e.g. of regimen, frugality, courtesy, reserve, etc., which

experience teaches do, on the average, most promote well-being.

Hence it follows that the imperatives of prudence do not, strictly

speaking, command at all, that is, they cannot present actions

objectively as practically necessary; that they are rather to be

regarded as counsels (consilia) than precepts precepts of reason, that

the problem to determine certainly and universally what action would

promote the happiness of a rational being is completely insoluble, and

consequently no imperative respecting it is possible which should,

in the strict sense, command to do what makes happy; because happiness

is not an ideal of reason but of imagination, resting solely on

empirical grounds, and it is vain to expect that these should define

an action by which one could attain the totality of a series of

consequences which is really endless. This imperative of prudence

would however be an analytical proposition if we assume that the means

to happiness could be certainly assigned; for it is distinguished from

the imperative of skill only by this, that in the latter the end is

merely possible, in the former it is given; as however both only

ordain the means to that which we suppose to be willed as an end, it

follows that the imperative which ordains the willing of the means

to him who wills the end is in both cases analytical. Thus there is no

difficulty in regard to the possibility of an imperative of this

kind either.

On the other hand, the question how the imperative of morality is

possible, is undoubtedly one, the only one, demanding a solution, as

this is not at all hypothetical, and the objective necessity which

it presents cannot rest on any hypothesis, as is the case with the

hypothetical imperatives. Only here we must never leave out of

consideration that we cannot make out by any example, in other words

empirically, whether there is such an imperative at all, but it is

rather to be feared that all those which seem to be categorical may

yet be at bottom hypothetical. For instance, when the precept is:

"Thou shalt not promise deceitfully"; and it is assumed that the

necessity of this is not a mere counsel to avoid some other evil, so

that it should mean: "Thou shalt not make a lying promise, lest if

it become known thou shouldst destroy thy credit," but that an

action of this kind must be regarded as evil in itself, so that the

imperative of the prohibition is categorical; then we cannot show with

certainty in any example that the will was determined merely by the

law, without any other spring of action, although it may appear to

be so. For it is always possible that fear of disgrace, perhaps also

obscure dread of other dangers, may have a secret influence on the

will. Who can prove by experience the non-existence of a cause when

all that experience tells us is that we do not perceive it? But in

such a case the so-called moral imperative, which as such appears to

be categorical and unconditional, would in reality be only a pragmatic

precept, drawing our attention to our own interests and merely

teaching us to take these into consideration.

We shall therefore have to investigate a priori the possibility of a

categorical imperative, as we have not in this case the advantage of

its reality being given in experience, so that [the elucidation of]

its possibility should be requisite only for its explanation, not

for its establishment. In the meantime it may be discerned

beforehand that the categorical imperative alone has the purport of

a practical law; all the rest may indeed be called principles of the

will but not laws, since whatever is only necessary for the attainment

of some arbitrary purpose may be considered as in itself contingent,

and we can at any time be free from the precept if we give up the

purpose; on the contrary, the unconditional command leaves the will no

liberty to choose the opposite; consequently it alone carries with

it that necessity which we require in a law.

Secondly, in the case of this categorical imperative or law of

morality, the difficulty (of discerning its possibility) is a very

profound one. It is an a priori synthetical practical proposition;*

and as there is so much difficulty in discerning the possibility of

speculative propositions of this kind, it may readily be supposed that

the difficulty will be no less with the practical.

*I connect the act with the will without presupposing any

condition resulting from any inclination, but a priori, and

therefore necessarily (though only objectively, i.e., assuming the

idea of a reason possessing full power over all subjective motives).

This is accordingly a practical proposition which does not deduce

the willing of an action by mere analysis from another already

presupposed (for we have not such a perfect will), but connects it

immediately with the conception of the will of a rational being, as

something not contained in it.

In this problem we will first inquire whether the mere conception of

a categorical imperative may not perhaps supply us also with the

formula of it, containing the proposition which alone can be a

categorical imperative; for even if we know the tenor of such an

absolute command, yet how it is possible will require further

special and laborious study, which we postpone to the last section.

When I conceive a hypothetical imperative, in general I do not

know beforehand what it will contain until I am given the condition.

But when I conceive a categorical imperative, I know at once what it

contains. For as the imperative contains besides the law only the

necessity that the maxims* shall conform to this law, while the law

contains no conditions restricting it, there remains nothing but the

general statement that the maxim of the action should conform to a

universal law, and it is this conformity alone that the imperative

properly represents as necessary.

*A maxim is a subjective principle of action, and must be

distinguished from the objective principle, namely, practical law. The

former contains the practical rule set by reason according to the

conditions of the subject (often its ignorance or its inclinations),

so that it is the principle on which the subject acts; but the law

is the objective principle valid for every rational being, and is

the principle on which it ought to act that is an imperative.

There is therefore but one categorical imperative, namely, this: Act

only on that maxim whereby thou canst at the same time will that it

should become a universal law.

Now if all imperatives of duty can be deduced from this one

imperative as from their principle, then, although it should remain

undecided what is called duty is not merely a vain notion, yet at

least we shall be able to show what we understand by it and what

this notion means.

Since the universality of the law according to which effects are

produced constitutes what is properly called nature in the most

general sense (as to form), that is the existence of things so far

as it is determined by general laws, the imperative of duty may be

expressed thus: Act as if the maxim of thy action were to become by

thy will a universal law of nature.

We will now enumerate a few duties, adopting the usual division of

them into duties to ourselves and ourselves and to others, and into

perfect and imperfect duties.*

*It must be noted here that I reserve the division of duties for a

future metaphysic of morals; so that I give it here only as an

arbitrary one (in order to arrange my examples). For the rest, I

understand by a perfect duty one that admits no exception in favour of

inclination and then I have not merely external but also internal

perfect duties. This is contrary to the use of the word adopted in the

schools; but I do not intend to justify there, as it is all one for my

purpose whether it is admitted or not.

1. A man reduced to despair by a series of misfortunes feels wearied

of life, but is still so far in possession of his reason that he can

ask himself whether it would not be contrary to his duty to himself to

take his own life. Now he inquires whether the maxim of his action

could become a universal law of nature. His maxim is: "From

self-love I adopt it as a principle to shorten my life when its longer

duration is likely to bring more evil than satisfaction." It is

asked then simply whether this principle founded on self-love can

become a universal law of nature. Now we see at once that a system

of nature of which it should be a law to destroy life by means of

the very feeling whose special nature it is to impel to the

improvement of life would contradict itself and, therefore, could

not exist as a system of nature; hence that maxim cannot possibly

exist as a universal law of nature and, consequently, would be

wholly inconsistent with the supreme principle of all duty.

2. Another finds himself forced by necessity to borrow money. He

knows that he will not be able to repay it, but sees also that nothing

will be lent to him unless he promises stoutly to repay it in a

definite time. He desires to make this promise, but he has still so

much conscience as to ask himself: "Is it not unlawful and

inconsistent with duty to get out of a difficulty in this way?"

Suppose however that he resolves to do so: then the maxim of his

action would be expressed thus: "When I think myself in want of money,

I will borrow money and promise to repay it, although I know that I

never can do so." Now this principle of self-love or of one's own

advantage may perhaps be consistent with my whole future welfare;

but the question now is, "Is it right?" I change then the suggestion

of self-love into a universal law, and state the question thus: "How

would it be if my maxim were a universal law?" Then I see at once that

it could never hold as a universal law of nature, but would

necessarily contradict itself. For supposing it to be a universal

law that everyone when he thinks himself in a difficulty should be

able to promise whatever he pleases, with the purpose of not keeping

his promise, the promise itself would become impossible, as well as

the end that one might have in view in it, since no one would consider

that anything was promised to him, but would ridicule all such

statements as vain pretences.

3. A third finds in himself a talent which with the help of some

culture might make him a useful man in many respects. But he finds

himself in comfortable circumstances and prefers to indulge in

pleasure rather than to take pains in enlarging and improving his

happy natural capacities. He asks, however, whether his maxim of

neglect of his natural gifts, besides agreeing with his inclination to

indulgence, agrees also with what is called duty. He sees then that

a system of nature could indeed subsist with such a universal law

although men (like the South Sea islanders) should let their talents

rest and resolve to devote their lives merely to idleness,

amusement, and propagation of their a word, to

enjoyment; but he cannot possibly will that this should be a universal

law of nature, or be implanted in us as such by a natural instinct.

For, as a rational being, he necessarily wills that his faculties be

developed, since they serve him and have been given him, for all sorts

of possible purposes.

4. A fourth, who is in prosperity, while he sees that others have to

contend with great wretchedness and that he could help them, thinks:

"What concern is it of mine? Let everyone be as happy as Heaven

pleases, or as be can make himself; I will take nothing from him nor

even envy him, only I do not wish to contribute anything to his

welfare or to his assistance in distress!" Now no doubt if such a mode

of thinking were a universal law, the human race might very well

subsist and doubtless even better than in a state in which everyone

talks of sympathy and good-will, or even takes care occasionally to

put it into practice, but, on the other side, also cheats when he can,

betrays the rights of men, or otherwise violates them. But although it

is possible that a universal law of nature might exist in accordance

with that maxim, it is impossible to will that such a principle should

have the universal validity of a law of nature. For a will which

resolved this would contradict itself, inasmuch as many cases might

occur in which one would have need of the love and sympathy of others,

and in which, by such a law of nature, sprung from his own will, he

would deprive himself of all hope of the aid he desires.

These are a few of the many actual duties, or at least what we

regard as such, which obviously fall into two classes on the one

principle that we have laid down. We must be able to will that a maxim

of our action should be a universal law. This is the canon of the

moral appreciation of the action generally. Some actions are of such a

character that their maxim cannot without contradiction be even

conceived as a universal law of nature, far from it being possible

that we should will that it should be so. In others this intrinsic

impossibility is not found, but still it is impossible to will that

their maxim should be raised to the universality of a law of nature,

since such a will would contradict itself It is easily seen that the

former violate strict or rigorous (inflexible) duty; the latter only

laxer (meritorious) duty. Thus it has been completely shown how all

duties depend as regards the nature of the obligation (not the

object of the action) on the same principle.

If now we attend to ourselves on occasion of any transgression of

duty, we shall find that we in fact do not will that our maxim

should be a universal law, for that is impossible for us; on the

contrary, we will that the opposite should remain a universal law,

only we assume the liberty of making an exception in our own favour or

(just for this time only) in favour of our inclination. Consequently

if we considered all cases from one and the same point of view,

namely, that of reason, we should find a contradiction in our own

will, namely, that a certain principle should be objectively necessary

as a universal law, and yet subjectively should not be universal,

but admit of exceptions. As however we at one moment regard our action

from the point of view of a will wholly conformed to reason, and

then again look at the same action from the point of view of a will

affected by inclination, there is not really any contradiction, but an

antagonism of inclination to the precept of reason, whereby the

universality of the principle is changed into a mere generality, so

that the practical principle of reason shall meet the maxim half

way. Now, although this cannot be justified in our own impartial

judgement, yet it proves that we do really recognise the validity of

the categorical imperative and (with all respect for it) only allow

ourselves a few exceptions, which we think unimportant and forced from

us.

We have thus established at least this much, that if duty is a

conception which is to have any import and real legislative

authority for our actions, it can only be expressed in categorical and

not at all in hypothetical imperatives. We have also, which is of

great importance, exhibited clearly and definitely for every practical

application the content of the categorical imperative, which must

contain the principle of all duty if there is such a thing at all.

We have not yet, however, advanced so far as to prove a priori that

there actually is such an imperative, that there is a practical law

which commands absolutely of itself and without any other impulse, and

that the following of this law is duty.

With the view of attaining to this, it is of extreme importance to

remember that we must not allow ourselves to think of deducing the

reality of this principle from the particular attributes of human

nature. For duty is to be a practical, unconditional necessity of

action; it must therefore hold for all rational beings (to whom an

imperative can apply at all), and for this reason only be also a law

for all human wills. On the contrary, whatever is deduced from the

particular natural characteristics of humanity, from certain

feelings and propensions, nay, even, if possible, from any

particular tendency proper to human reason, and which need not

necessarily hold for the will of every rational being; this may indeed

supply us with a maxim, but not with a law; with a subjective

principle on which we may have a propension and inclination to act,

but not with an objective principle on which we should be enjoined

to act, even though all our propensions, inclinations, and natural

dispositions were opposed to it. In fact, the sublimity and

intrinsic dignity of the command in duty are so much the more evident,

the less the subjective impulses favour it and the more they oppose

it, without being able in the slightest degree to weaken the

obligation of the law or to diminish its validity.

Here then we see philosophy brought to a critical position, since it

has to be firmly fixed, notwithstanding that it has nothing to support

it in heaven or earth. Here it must show its purity as absolute

director of its own laws, not the herald of those which are

whispered to it by an implanted sense or who knows what tutelary

nature. Although these may be better than nothing, yet they can

never afford principles dictated by reason, which must have their

source wholly a priori and thence their commanding authority,

expecting everything from the supremacy of the law and the due respect

for it, nothing from inclination, or else condemning the man to

self-contempt and inward abhorrence.

Thus every empirical element is not only quite incapable of being an

aid to the principle of morality, but is even highly prejudicial to

the purity of morals, for the proper and inestimable worth of an

absolutely good will consists just in this, that the principle of

action is free from all influence of contingent grounds, which alone

experience can furnish. We cannot too much or too often repeat our

warning against this lax and even mean habit of thought which seeks

for its principle amongst empirical motives and laws; for human reason

in its weariness is glad to rest on this pillow, and in a dream of

sweet illusions (in which, instead of Juno, it embraces a cloud) it

substitutes for morality a bastard patched up from limbs of various

derivation, which looks like anything one chooses to see in it, only

not like virtue to one who has once beheld her in her true form.*

*To behold virtue in her proper form is nothing else but to

contemplate morality stripped of all admixture of sensible things

and of every spurious ornament of reward or self-love. How much she

then eclipses everything else that appears charming to the affections,

every one may readily perceive with the least exertion of his

reason, if it be not wholly spoiled for abstraction.

The question then is this: "Is it a necessary law for all rational

beings that they should always judge of their actions by maxims of

which they can themselves will that they should serve as universal

laws?" If it is so, then it must be connected (altogether a priori)

with the very conception of the will of a rational being generally.

But in order to discover this connexion we must, however

reluctantly, take a step into metaphysic, although into a domain of it

which is distinct from speculative philosophy, namely, the

metaphysic of morals. In a practical philosophy, where it is not the

reasons of what happens that we have to ascertain, but the laws of

what ought to happen, even although it never does, i.e., objective

practical laws, there it is not necessary to inquire into the

reasons why anything pleases or displeases, how the pleasure of mere

sensation differs from taste, and whether the latter is distinct

from a general satisfaction of reason; on what the feeling of pleasure

or pain rests, and how from it desires and inclinations arise, and

from these again maxims by the co-operation of reason: for all this

belongs to an empirical psychology, which would constitute the

second part of physics, if we regard physics as the philosophy of

nature, so far as it is based on empirical laws. But here we are

concerned with objective practical laws and, consequently, with the

relation of the will to itself so far as it is determined by reason

alone, in which case whatever has reference to anything empirical is

necessarily excluded; since if reason of itself alone determines the

conduct (and it is the possibility of this that we are now

investigating), it must necessarily do so a priori.

The will is conceived as a faculty of determining oneself to

action in accordance with the conception of certain laws. And such a

faculty can be found only in rational beings. Now that which serves

the will as the objective ground of its self-determination is the end,

and, if this is assigned by reason alone, it must hold for all

rational beings. On the other hand, that which merely contains the

ground of possibility of the action of which the effect is the end,

this is called the means. The subjective ground of the desire is the

spring, the objective ground of the volition is the motive; hence

the distinction between subjective ends which rest on springs, and

objective ends which depend on motives valid for every rational being.

Practical principles are formal when they abstract from all subjective

ends; they are material when they assume these, and therefore

particular springs of action. The ends which a rational being proposes

to himself at pleasure as effects of his actions (material ends) are

all only relative, for it is only their relation to the particular

desires of the subject that gives them their worth, which therefore

cannot furnish principles universal and necessary for all rational

beings and for every volition, that is to say practical laws. Hence

all these relative ends can give rise only to hypothetical

imperatives.

Supposing, however, that there were something whose existence has in

itself an absolute worth, something which, being an end in itself,

could be a source of definite laws; then in this and this alone

would lie the source of a possible categorical imperative, i.e., a

practical law.

Now I say: man and generally any rational being exists as an end

in himself, not merely as a means to be arbitrarily used by this or

that will, but in all his actions, whether they concern himself or

other rational beings, must be always regarded at the same time as

an end. All objects of the inclinations have only a conditional worth,

for if the inclinations and the wants founded on them did not exist,

then their object would be without value. But the inclinations,

themselves being sources of want, are so far from having an absolute

worth for which they should be desired that on the contrary it must be

the universal wish of every rational being to be wholly free from

them. Thus the worth of any object which is to be acquired by our

action is always conditional. Beings whose existence depends not on

our will but on nature's, have nevertheless, if they are irrational

beings, only a relative value as means, and are therefore called

things; rational beings, on the contrary, are called persons,

because their very nature points them out as ends in themselves,

that is as something which must not be used merely as means, and so

far therefore restricts freedom of action (and is an object of

respect). These, therefore, are not merely subjective ends whose

existence has a worth for us as an effect of our action, but objective

ends, that is, things whose existence is an end in itself; an end

moreover for which no other can be substituted, which they should

subserve merely as means, for otherwise nothing whatever would possess

absolute worth; but if all worth were conditioned and therefore

contingent, then there would be no supreme practical principle of

reason whatever.

If then there is a supreme practical principle or, in respect of the

human will, a categorical imperative, it must be one which, being

drawn from the conception of that which is necessarily an end for

everyone because it is an end in itself, constitutes an objective

principle of will, and can therefore serve as a universal practical

law. The foundation of this principle is: rational nature exists as an

end in itself. Man necessarily conceives his own existence as being

so; so far then this is a subjective principle of human actions. But

every other rational being regards its existence similarly, just on

the same rational principle that holds for me:* so that it is at the

same time an objective principle, from which as a supreme practical

law all laws of the will must be capable of being deduced. Accordingly

the practical imperative will be as follows: So act as to treat

humanity, whether in thine own person or in that of any other, in

every case as an end withal, never as means only. We will now

inquire whether this can be practically carried out.

*This proposition is here stated as a postulate. The ground of it

will be found in the concluding section.

To abide by the previous examples:

Firstly, under the head of necessary duty to oneself: He who

contemplates suicide should ask himself whether his action can be

consistent with the idea of humanity as an end in itself. If he

destroys himself in order to escape from painful circumstances, he

uses a person merely as a mean to maintain a tolerable condition up to

the end of life. But a man is not a thing, that is to say, something

which can be used merely as means, but must in all his actions be

always considered as an end in himself. I cannot, therefore, dispose

in any way of a man in my own person so as to mutilate him, to

damage or kill him. (It belongs to ethics proper to define this

principle more precisely, so as to avoid all misunderstanding, e.

g., as to the amputation of the limbs in order to preserve myself,

as to exposing my life to danger with a view to preserve it, etc. This

question is therefore omitted here.)

Secondly, as regards necessary duties, or those of strict

obligation, towards others: He who is thinking of making a lying

promise to others will see at once that he would be using another

man merely as a mean, without the latter containing at the same time

the end in himself. For he whom I propose by such a promise to use for

my own purposes cannot possibly assent to my mode of acting towards

him and, therefore, cannot himself contain the end of this action.

This violation of the principle of humanity in other men is more

obvious if we take in examples of attacks on the freedom and

property of others. For then it is clear that he who transgresses

the rights of men intends to use the person of others merely as a

means, without considering that as rational beings they ought always

to be esteemed also as ends, that is, as beings who must be capable of

containing in themselves the end of the very same action.*

*Let it not be thought that the common "quod tibi non vis fieri,

etc." could serve here as the rule or principle. For it is only a

deduction from the former, though with several limitations; it

cannot be a universal law, for it does not contain the principle of

duties to oneself, nor of the duties of benevolence to others (for

many a one would gladly consent that others should not benefit him,

provided only that he might be excused from showing benevolence to

them), nor finally that of duties of strict obligation to one another,

for on this principle the criminal might argue against the judge who

punishes him, and so on.

Thirdly, as regards contingent (meritorious) duties to oneself: It

is not enough that the action does not violate humanity in our own

person as an end in itself, it must also harmonize with it. Now

there are in humanity capacities of greater perfection, which belong

to the end that nature has in view in regard to humanity in

ourselves as the subject: to neglect these might perhaps be consistent

with the maintenance of humanity as an end in itself, but not with the

advancement of this end.

Fourthly, as regards meritorious duties towards others: The

natural end which all men have is their own happiness. Now humanity

might indeed subsist, although no one should contribute anything to

the happiness of others, provided he did not intentionally withdraw

anything from it; but after all this would only harmonize negatively

not positively with humanity as an end in itself, if every one does

not also endeavour, as far as in him lies, to forward the ends of

others. For the ends of any subject which is an end in himself ought

as far as possible to be my ends also, if that conception is to have

its full effect with me.

This principle, that humanity and generally every rational nature is

an end in itself (which is the supreme limiting condition of every

man's freedom of action), is not borrowed from experience, firstly,

because it is universal, applying as it does to all rational beings

whatever, and experience is not capable of determining anything

about them; secondly, because it does not present humanity as an end

to men (subjectively), that is as an object which men do of themselves

actually adopt as an end; but as an objective end, which must as a law

constitute the supreme limiting condition of all our subjective

ends, let them be what we will; it must therefore spring from pure

reason. In fact the objective principle of all practical legislation

lies (according to the first principle) in the rule and its form of

universality which makes it capable of being a law (say, e. g., a

law of nature); but the subjective principle is in the end; now by the

second principle the subject of all ends is each rational being,

inasmuch as it is an end in itself. Hence follows the third

practical principle of the will, which is the ultimate condition of

its harmony with universal practical reason, viz.: the idea of the

will of every rational being as a universally legislative will.

On this principle all maxims are rejected which are inconsistent

with the will being itself universal legislator. Thus the will is

not subject simply to the law, but so subject that it must be regarded

as itself giving the law and, on this ground only, subject to the

law (of which it can regard itself as the author).

In the previous imperatives, namely, that based on the conception of

the conformity of actions to general laws, as in a physical system

of nature, and that based on the universal prerogative of rational

beings as ends in imperatives, just because they

were conceived as categorical, excluded from any share in their

authority all admixture of any interest as a spring of action; they

were, however, only assumed to be categorical, because such an

assumption was necessary to explain the conception of duty. But we

could not prove independently that there are practical propositions

which command categorically, nor can it be proved in this section; one

thing, however, could be done, namely, to indicate in the imperative

itself, by some determinate expression, that in the case of volition

from duty all interest is renounced, which is the specific criterion

of categorical as distinguished from hypothetical imperatives. This is

done in the present (third) formula of the principle, namely, in the

idea of the will of every rational being as a universally

legislating will.

For although a will which is subject to laws may be attached to this

law by means of an interest, yet a will which is itself a supreme

lawgiver so far as it is such cannot possibly depend on any

interest, since a will so dependent would itself still need another

law restricting the interest of its self-love by the condition that it

should be valid as universal law.

Thus the principle that every human will is a will which in all

its maxims gives universal laws,* provided it be otherwise

justified, would be very well adapted to be the categorical

imperative, in this respect, namely, that just because of the idea

of universal legislation it is not based on interest, and therefore it

alone among all possible imperatives can be unconditional. Or still

better, converting the proposition, if there is a categorical

imperative (i.e., a law for the will of every rational being), it

can only command that everything be done from maxims of one's will

regarded as a will which could at the same time will that it should

itself give universal laws, for in that case only the practical

principle and the imperative which it obeys are unconditional, since

they cannot be based on any interest.

*I may be excused from adducing examples to elucidate this

principle, as those which have already been used to elucidate the

categorical imperative and its formula would all serve for the like

purpose here.

Looking back now on all previous attempts to discover the

principle of morality, we need not wonder why they all failed. It

was seen that man was bound to laws by duty, but it was not observed

that the laws to which he is subject are only those of his own giving,

though at the same time they are universal, and that he is only

bound to act in conformity with his own will; a will, however, which

is designed by nature to give universal laws. For when one has

conceived man only as subject to a law (no matter what), then this law

required some interest, either by way of attraction or constraint,

since it did not originate as a law from his own will, but this will

was according to a law obliged by something else to act in a certain

manner. Now by this necessary consequence all the labour spent in

finding a supreme principle of duty was irrevocably lost. For men

never elicited duty, but only a necessity of acting from a certain

interest. Whether this interest was private or otherwise, in any

case the imperative must be conditional and could not by any means

be capable of being a moral command. I will therefore call this the

principle of autonomy of the will, in contrast with every other

which I accordingly reckon as heteronomy.

The conception of the will of every rational being as one which must

consider itself as giving in all the maxims of its will universal

laws, so as to judge itself and its actions from this point of view-

this conception leads to another which depends on it and is very

fruitful, namely that of a kingdom of ends.

By a kingdom I understand the union of different rational beings

in a system by common laws. Now since it is by laws that ends are

determined as regards their universal validity, hence, if we

abstract from the personal differences of rational beings and likewise

from all the content of their private ends, we shall be able to

conceive all ends combined in a systematic whole (including both

rational beings as ends in themselves, and also the special ends which

each may propose to himself), that is to say, we can conceive a

kingdom of ends, which on the preceding principles is possible.

For all rational beings come under the law that each of them must

treat itself and all others never merely as means, but in every case

at the same time as ends in themselves. Hence results a systematic

union of rational being by common objective laws, i.e., a kingdom

which may be called a kingdom of ends, since what these laws have in

view is just the relation of these beings to one another as ends and

means. It is certainly only an ideal.

A rational being belongs as a member to the kingdom of ends when,

although giving universal laws in it, he is also himself subject to

these laws. He belongs to it as sovereign when, while giving laws,

he is not subject to the will of any other.

A rational being must always regard himself as giving laws either as

member or as sovereign in a kingdom of ends which is rendered possible

by the freedom of will. He cannot, however, maintain the latter

position merely by the maxims of his will, but only in case he is a

completely independent being without wants and with unrestricted power

adequate to his will.

Morality consists then in the reference of all action to the

legislation which alone can render a kingdom of ends possible. This

legislation must be capable of existing in every rational being and of

emanating from his will, so that the principle of this will is never

to act on any maxim which could not without contradiction be also a

universal law and, accordingly, always so to act that the will could

at the same time regard itself as giving in its maxims universal laws.

If now the maxims of rational beings are not by their own nature

coincident with this objective principle, then the necessity of acting

on it is called practical necessitation, i.e., duty. Duty does not

apply to the sovereign in the kingdom of ends, but it does to every

member of it and to all in the same degree.

The practical necessity of acting on this principle, i.e., duty,

does not rest at all on feelings, impulses, or inclinations, but

solely on the relation of rational beings to one another, a relation

in which the will of a rational being must always be regarded as

legislative, since otherwise it could not be conceived as an end in

itself. Reason then refers every maxim of the will, regarding it as

legislating universally, to every other will and also to every

action towards oneself; and this not on account of any other practical

motive or any future advantage, but from the idea of the dignity of

a rational being, obeying no law but that which he himself also gives.

In the kingdom of ends everything has either value or dignity.

Whatever has a value can be replaced by something else which is

equivalent; whatever, on the other hand, is above all value, and

therefore admits of no equivalent, has a dignity.

Whatever has reference to the general inclinations and wants of

mankind has a market value; whatever, without presupposing a want,

corresponds to a certain taste, that is to a satisfaction in the

mere purposeless play of our faculties, has a fancy value; but that

which constitutes the condition under which alone anything can be an

end in itself, this has not merely a relative worth, i.e., value,

but an intrinsic worth, that is, dignity.

Now morality is the condition under which alone a rational being can

be an end in himself, since by this alone is it possible that he

should be a legislating member in the kingdom of ends. Thus

morality, and humanity as capable of it, is that which alone has

dignity. Skill and diligence in labour have a market value; wit,

lively imagination, and humour, have fancy value; on the other hand,

fidelity to promises, benevolence from principle (not from

instinct), have an intrinsic worth. Neither nature nor art contains

anything which in default of these it could put in their place, for

their worth consists not in the effects which spring from them, not in

the use and advantage which they secure, but in the disposition of

mind, that is, the maxims of the will which are ready to manifest

themselves in such actions, even though they should not have the

desired effect. These actions also need no recommendation from any

subjective taste or sentiment, that they may be looked on with

immediate favour and satisfaction: they need no immediate propension

or feeling for them; they exhibit the will that performs them as an

object of an immediate respect, and nothing but reason is required

to impose them on the will; not to flatter it into them, which, in the

case of duties, would be a contradiction. This estimation therefore

shows that the worth of such a disposition is dignity, and places it

infinitely above all value, with which it cannot for a moment be

brought into comparison or competition without as it were violating

its sanctity.

What then is it which justifies virtue or the morally good

disposition, in making such lofty claims? It is nothing less than

the privilege it secures to the rational being of participating in the

giving of universal laws, by which it qualifies him to be a member

of a possible kingdom of ends, a privilege to which he was already

destined by his own nature as being an end in himself and, on that

account, legislating in the kingdom of ends; free as regards all

laws of physical nature, and obeying those only which he himself

gives, and by which his maxims can belong to a system of universal

law, to which at the same time he submits himself. For nothing has any

worth except what the law assigns it. Now the legislation itself which

assigns the worth of everything must for that very reason possess

dignity, that is an unconditional incomparable worth; and the word

respect alone supplies a becoming expression for the esteem which a

rational being must have for it. Autonomy then is the basis of the

dignity of human and of every rational nature.

The three modes of presenting the principle of morality that have

been adduced are at bottom only so many formulae of the very same law,

and each of itself involves the other two. There is, however, a

difference in them, but it is rather subjectively than objectively

practical, intended namely to bring an idea of the reason nearer to

intuition (by means of a certain analogy) and thereby nearer to

feeling. All maxims, in fact, have:

1. A form, consisting in universality; and in this view the

formula of the moral imperative is expressed thus, that the maxims

must be so chosen as if they were to serve as universal laws of

nature.

2. A matter, namely, an end, and here the formula says that the

rational being, as it is an end by its own nature and therefore an end

in itself, must in every maxim serve as the condition limiting all

merely relative and arbitrary ends.

3. A complete characterization of all maxims by means of that

formula, namely, that all maxims ought by their own legislation to

harmonize with a possible kingdom of ends as with a kingdom of

nature.* There is a progress here in the order of the categories of

unity of the form of the will (its universality), plurality of the

matter (the objects, i.e., the ends), and totality of the system of

these. In forming our moral judgement of actions, it is better to

proceed always on the strict method and start from the general formula

of the categorical imperative: Act according to a maxim which can at

the same time make itself a universal law. If, however, we wish to

gain an entrance for the moral law, it is very useful to bring one and

the same action under the three specified conceptions, and thereby

as far as possible to bring it nearer to intuition.

*Teleology considers nature as a kingdom of ends; ethics regards a

possible kingdom of ends as a kingdom nature. In the first case, the

kingdom of ends is a theoretical idea, adopted to explain what

actually is. In the latter it is a practical idea, adopted to bring

about that which is not yet, but which can be realized by our conduct,

namely, if it conforms to this idea.

We can now end where we started at the beginning, namely, with the

conception of a will unconditionally good. That will is absolutely

good which cannot be other words, whose maxim, if made a

universal law, could never contradict itself. This principle, then, is

its supreme law: "Act always on such a maxim as thou canst at the same

time will to be a universal law"; this is the sole condition under

which a will can never contradict itself; and such an imperative is

categorical. Since the validity of the will as a universal law for

possible actions is analogous to the universal connexion of the

existence of things by general laws, which is the formal notion of

nature in general, the categorical imperative can also be expressed

thus: Act on maxims which can at the same time have for their object

themselves as universal laws of nature. Such then is the formula of an

absolutely good will.

Rational nature is distinguished from the rest of nature by this,

that it sets before itself an end. This end would be the matter of

every good will. But since in the idea of a will that is absolutely

good without being limited by any condition (of attaining this or that

end) we must abstract wholly from every end to be effected (since this

would make every will only relatively good), it follows that in this

case the end must be conceived, not as an end to be effected, but as

an independently existing end. Consequently it is conceived only

negatively, i.e., as that which we must never act against and which,

therefore, must never be regarded merely as means, but must in every

volition be esteemed as an end likewise. Now this end can be nothing

but the subject of all possible ends, since this is also the subject

of a possible absolutely good will; for such a will cannot without

contradiction be postponed to any other object. The principle: "So act

in regard to every rational being (thyself and others), that he may

always have place in thy maxim as an end in himself," is accordingly

essentially identical with this other: "Act upon a maxim which, at the

same time, involves its own universal validity for every rational

being." For that in using means for every end I should limit my

maxim by the condition of its holding good as a law for every subject,

this comes to the same thing as that the fundamental principle of

all maxims of action must be that the subject of all ends, i.e., the

rational being himself, be never employed merely as means, but as

the supreme condition restricting the use of all means, that is in

every case as an end likewise.

It follows incontestably that, to whatever laws any rational being

may be subject, he being an end in himself must be able to regard

himself as also legislating universally in respect of these same laws,

since it is just this fitness of his maxims for universal

legislation that distinguishes him as an end in himself; also it

follows that this implies his dignity (prerogative) above all mere

physical beings, that he must always take his maxims from the point of

view which regards himself and, likewise, every other rational being

as law-giving beings (on which account they are called persons). In

this way a world of rational beings (mundus intelligibilis) is

possible as a kingdom of ends, and this by virtue of the legislation

proper to all persons as members. Therefore every rational being

must so act as if he were by his maxims in every case a legislating

member in the universal kingdom of ends. The formal principle of these

maxims is: "So act as if thy maxim were to serve likewise as the

universal law (of all rational beings)." A kingdom of ends is thus

only possible on the analogy of a kingdom of nature, the former

however only by maxims, that is self-imposed rules, the latter only by

the laws of efficient causes acting under necessitation from

without. Nevertheless, although the system of nature is looked upon as

a machine, yet so far as it has reference to rational beings as its

ends, it is given on this account the name of a kingdom of nature. Now

such a kingdom of ends would be actually realized by means of maxims

conforming to the canon which the categorical imperative prescribes to

all rational beings, if they were universally followed. But although a

rational being, even if he punctually follows this maxim himself,

cannot reckon upon all others being therefore true to the same, nor

expect that the kingdom of nature and its orderly arrangements shall

be in harmony with him as a fitting member, so as to form a kingdom of

ends to which he himself contributes, that is to say, that it shall

favour his expectation of happiness, still that law: "Act according to

the maxims of a member of a merely possible kingdom of ends

legislating in it universally," remains in its full force, inasmuch as

it commands categorically. And it is just in this that the paradox

lies; that the mere dignity of man as a rational creature, without any

other end or advantage to be attained thereby, in other words, respect

for a mere idea, should yet serve as an inflexible precept of the

will, and that it is precisely in this independence of the maxim on

all such springs of action that its sublimity consists; and it is this

that makes every rational subject worthy to be a legislative member in

the kingdom of ends: for otherwise he would have to be conceived

only as subject to the physical law of his wants. And although we

should suppose the kingdom of nature and the kingdom of ends to be

united under one sovereign, so that the latter kingdom thereby

ceased to be a mere idea and acquired true reality, then it would no

doubt gain the accession of a strong spring, but by no means any

increase of its intrinsic worth. For this sole absolute lawgiver must,

notwithstanding this, be always conceived as estimating the worth of

rational beings only by their disinterested behaviour, as prescribed

to themselves from that idea [the dignity of man] alone. The essence

of things is not altered by their external relations, and that

which, abstracting from these, alone constitutes the absolute worth of

man, is also that by which he must be judged, whoever the judge may

be, and even by the Supreme Being. Morality, then, is the relation

of actions to the relation of actions will, that is, to the autonomy

of potential universal legislation by its maxims. An action that is

consistent with the autonomy of the will is permitted; one that does

not agree therewith is forbidden. A will whose maxims necessarily

coincide with the laws of autonomy is a holy will, good absolutely.

The dependence of a will not absolutely good on the principle of

autonomy (moral necessitation) is obligation. This, then, cannot be

applied to a holy being. The objective necessity of actions from

obligation is called duty.

From what has just been said, it is easy to see how it happens that,

although the conception of duty implies subjection to the law, we

yet ascribe a certain dignity and sublimity to the person who

fulfils all his duties. There is not, indeed, any sublimity in him, so

far as he is subject to the moral law; but inasmuch as in regard to

that very law he is likewise a legislator, and on that account alone

subject to it, he has sublimity. We have also shown above that neither

fear nor inclination, but simply respect for the law, is the spring

which can give actions a moral worth. Our own will, so far as we

suppose it to act only under the condition that its maxims are

potentially universal laws, this ideal will which is possible to us is

the proper object of respect; and the dignity of humanity consists

just in this capacity of being universally legislative, though with

the condition that it is itself subject to this same legislation.

The Autonomy of the Will as the Supreme Principle of Morality

Autonomy of the will is that property of it by which it is a law

to itself (independently of any property of the objects of

volition). The principle of autonomy then is: "Always so to choose

that the same volition shall comprehend the maxims of our choice as

a universal law." We cannot prove that this practical rule is an

imperative, i.e., that the will of every rational being is necessarily

bound to it as a condition, by a mere analysis of the conceptions

which occur in it, since it is a synthetical proposition; we must

advance beyond the cognition of the objects to a critical

examination of the subject, that is, of the pure practical reason, for

this synthetic proposition which commands apodeictically must be

capable of being cognized wholly a priori. This matter, however,

does not belong to the present section. But that the principle of

autonomy in question is the sole principle of morals can be readily

shown by mere analysis of the conceptions of morality. For by this

analysis we find that its principle must be a categorical imperative

and that what this commands is neither more nor less than this very

autonomy.

Heteronomy of the Will as the Source of all spurious Principles

of Morality

If the will seeks the law which is to determine it anywhere else

than in the fitness of its maxims to be universal laws of its own

dictation, consequently if it goes out of itself and seeks this law in

the character of any of its objects, there always results

heteronomy. The will in that case does not give itself the law, but it

is given by the object through its relation to the will. This

relation, whether it rests on inclination or on conceptions of reason,

only admits of hypothetical imperatives: "I ought to do something

because I wish for something else." On the contrary, the moral, and

therefore categorical, imperative says: "I ought to do so and so, even

though I should not wish for anything else." E.g., the former says: "I

ought not to lie, if I would retain my reputation"; the latter says:

"I ought not to lie, although it should not bring me the least

discredit." The latter therefore must so far abstract from all objects

that they shall have no influence on the will, in order that practical

reason (will) may not be restricted to administering an interest not

belonging to it, but may simply show its own commanding authority as

the supreme legislation. Thus, e.g., I ought to endeavour to promote

the happiness of others, not as if its realization involved any

concern of mine (whether by immediate inclination or by any

satisfaction indirectly gained through reason), but simply because a

maxim which excludes it cannot be comprehended as a universal law in

one and the same v