From Theology to Morality
Yet even as religion was reduced to a public-order issue, ethics were still enforced by law. Individual habits with no immediate social consequences were privatized as citizens' choices: gluttony, sloth, cupidity, and most sexual behavior other than rape and pedophilia.
But new immoralities came to be restricted by law, as we will see. Morality was informal social sanction that broadly reinforced what statute also dictated. Did the law need morality as a backup? Or were formalized, democratically decided rules alone legitimate, with morality therefore archaic and redundant?The Enlightenment's debates over atheism posed such issues first. Could society function without a commonly accepted sense of sin? Could atheists be moral? Even the philosophes found it hard to shake off the basic assumptions of a fundamentally religious era.51 Hobbes endowed the Leviathan with a strong state church—not for religion's intrinsic value but to secure order. Though religiously tolerant, Locke banished atheists because—considering that they accepted no higher power—their oaths and promises meant noth- ing.52 If people did not believe in a punitive God, Voltaire feared, society would crumble. That was the gist of his often misunderÂstood assertion that bereft of God, we would have to invent him.53 Though a generation younger, Pierre Bayle had already cast off reliÂgion's social role. Morality was not necessarily based on religion. An atheistic society would function civilly and morally so long as it punished crimes and honored laudable acts. We have no right, he insisted, to assume that an atheist is less moral than a believer.54
That the irreligious could also be moral was discovered only slowly. In the developing world, vast majorities still refuse to accept that one can be both moral and yet not a believer.55 Even today, we continue to insist on religiously observant leaders.
Outside China, few public figures dare to openly acknowledge their atheism.56 SimiÂlar issues were raised when James Fitzjames Stephen and John StuartMill crossed pens in the nineteenth century. Punishments voiced society's moral revulsion, Stephen thought, whereas Mill allowed sanction only if citizens directly harmed each other.57 These issues arose again in the 1960s in debates fought as Britain reviewed the criminalization of (male) homosexuality. Did society need the glue of a common moral codex to undergird formal statute and avoid ethical anomie? Patrick Devlin famously argued that it mattered less what moral values society held so long as they were widely shared and enforced.58 Both sides back then broadly assumed that gay sex was immoral; at issue was whether it should also be illegal.
Should the law enforce morality? Did purely individual transgresÂsions even exist—ones with no consequence for others? ConservaÂtives insisted that individual acts—divorce, sexual unorthodoxy, blasphemy—weakened society's bonds.59 But what level of harm should be punished? Most expansively, not just tangible harm but offense, too, was actionable. Acts that merely offended others, even without damaging them, could be condemned. That risked leavÂing the penal code responsive to society's most delicate souls. They might feel impaired just by the possibility that somewhere someÂone was doing something disturbing.60 Without a semiobjective criÂterion of harm, the definition of offense would endlessly expand. In 1957, the Wolfenden Committee (Parliamentary Committee on Homosexual Offences and Prostitution) in Britain solved the probÂlem by deft distinction. It simultaneously demarcated a private sphere where actions—in this case male homosexuality—were perÂmitted even if offensive to some but advocated more stringent penÂalties for street prostitution, regarded as a public harm.61
Nevertheless, society still rested on moral and behavioral norms.
The law dealt originally with crime, sin, and immorality, all together. As the three were gradually separated out, it focused on violations of statute, not of theology or morality. Depending on how “to bear false witness” is defined, twentieth-century BritÂish law embodies either three and a half or four and a half of theBible's Ten Commandments.62 Today, the law is much larger than morality, prohibiting many more actions. Yet it has also narrowed. Large swaths of once illegal conduct are now solely a matter for ethicists or theologians. Purely theological transgressions are rarely legal issues any longer. Many acts once considered immoral are now often legal: adultery, homosexuality, prostitution, abortion, suicide, euthanasia. And not all immorality is illegal: lying, cheatÂing on your spouse, bullying, standing by while someone drowns. Conversely, most crimes are not immoral: jaywalking, driving with a broken tail light, failing to withhold employee Social Security deductions. The distinction between illegality and immorality has become a commonplace.63
As philosophers explored the various moral codes in effect across the globe, their relativity caused lawyers to fear hitching statute too closely to ethics. Montesquieu emphasized the multiplicity of legal and political systems. Locke and Kant sought to separate law from morality, John Austin and Bentham (who considered the idea of natural rights “nonsense on stilts”) to free their utilitarian codex from it entirely. The French Revolution, invoking what the revoluÂtionaries insisted were natural laws, scared many, prompting conÂservatives such as Edmund Burke and Friedrich Karl von Savigny to draw sharp distinctions between law and morals.64 Starting in the late nineteenth century, legal realists, for whom the law was only what the authorities decided, unlinked to anything transcenÂdent, made the separation watertight.65 The law sought to wall itself off from religion and morality and to remain untainted by what it regarded as outmoded behavioral prescriptions.
The Austrian legal philosopher Hans Kelsen insisted in the early twentieth century that morality was culture specific, without a common core. The law could not be founded on such relativistic quicksand.66Nonetheless, despite the most astringent legal theorists' distaste, the legal and the moral still overlapped. True, the law expanded to include more actions only tangentially related to religion or ethics, but its core remained the fundamental tenets of morality.67 Do not kill, lie, assault, cheat, or steal. Blurring the line between law and morality became a problem mainly when statute enforced those aspects of morality that did not involve protecting others from direct harm. Should the law require us to perform acts that benefit others? To avoid acts that cause indirect harm to others or harm to ourselves? To shun acts that offend others or that are regarded by them as immoral?68 These were gray areas where law and morality overlapped, where cultures differed in which ethical precepts they enforced legally, and where changing social mores, striving to be recognized in legal reform, first had an effect.
Morality has obviously varied—sometimes dramatically—among and within cultures. Such differences have tended to concern sex and women: homosexuality, pedophilia, adultery, bigamy, divorce, contraception, abortion. The law often limped along, barely keeping abreast of evolving mores.69 In the US outmoded detritus still litters state penal codes, technically outlawing a wide range of behaviors: adultery, fornication, sodomy, and (in some state or municipal code somewhere) just about any form of sexual behavior short of the missionary position within marriage and solitary masturbation. In 1948, Boston police arrested 248 adulterers. Massachusetts successÂfully prosecuted an adultery case in 1983, and as of 2012 the offense remained on the state's books as a felony.70 Nevertheless, a common core arguably united most behaviors considered morally signifiÂcant: promise keeping, truth telling, protecting innocents from vioÂlent attack.71 That punishments should be proportionate to offenses approximates a human constant.72 The endless debates over natural law at least served to distill plausibly quasi-universal rules.
And law helped reinforce morality when it was used expressively to underÂgird society's ethical precepts.73Even today the law is based more on morality than is often recÂognized. Hospitality law, how to treat aliens, what the Germans call Gastrecht, has evolved from a moral obligation to a legal duty in international law.74 The obviously unethical is usually illegal as well, but morality also informs everyday economic transactions. The law of contract depends on the concept of good faith. The US Uniform Commercial Code defines good faith as “honesty in fact in the conÂduct or transaction concerned.”75 All commercial systems rest on the (moral) assumption that those engaged in exchange can rely on each other's promises. Such promises may be reinforced in law. The blossoming of contract law in the nineteenth century put some steel in the velvet glove of promises made in the free market by its interacting parties.76 But without good faith, systems of exchange would collapse.77 More generally, good faith transactions—keeping promises, performing what was agreed upon, and the like—were behaviors enforced at first by custom and religion in self-governing communities. When the law began regulating these actions, they long kept religious forms. The standards of due care in the law of negligence, of fair competition, and of fair conduct of a fiduciary: all involved a concept of fairness and reasonableness that—though applied by courts—ultimately rested on moral intuitions.78 In the continental civil codes, contracts were explicitly premised on morality. Those that were immoral could be declared invalid.79
Relations of law to morality had long been given voice in two sets of distinctions. Where both morality and law forbade the same actions, they targeted inherent evil, malum in se. Where the law alone prohibited conduct that might not be immoral, it created the malum prohibitum.80 Mala in se were fundamentally unethical actions, directed against life, health and bodily security, personal liberty and dignity, property rights, as well as the constitutional order and safety of the state.
Sins they were not, but the term moral turpitude was often used to describe them.81 Mala prohibita were forbidden acts or regulatory or civil offenses. Plato distinguished between curable and incurable offenses, Aristotle between natuÂral political justice (having the same force everywhere) and legal political justice (important only once laid down in the law).82 The distinction had become formalized by the late fifteenth century and then rendered orthodoxy by Blackstone in the 1760s.83 Despite being ridiculed by Bentham, the distinction remains in good standÂing, cited by the US Supreme Court as recently as the 1950s.84Related, though not identical, was the distinction between torts and crimes, emerging after the thirteenth century in common law. Before this point, crimes could be pursued both by private parties and by the king, and the law could impose either compensation or corporeal punishments.85 Torts were harms that could be assuaged through compensation alone. Before the state assumed responsibilÂity for justice, most transgressions had been treated as torts—even ones, such as homicide, that later became crimes. They were settled between the disputant parties through an exchange of value. Torts were actions society preferred to regulate, whereas crimes were forÂbidden outright. One priced acts; the other prohibited them. Torts were not worth the bother of criminal sanctions. Or, because certain offenses might enrich the offender more than they harmed sociÂety, they were more efficiently dealt with by recouping their social cost through fines. Crimes, in contrast, were acts whose cost society was unwilling to monetize and collect, therefore to be forbidden altogether. Punishing crime aimed not to reimburse victims but to deter others. Sanctions inflicted real suffering. Crimes were actions society sought to eliminate wholly (rape and murder), whereas torts might have some social utility (the economic efficiencies of turning a blind eye to polluting or workplace accidents) and should be disÂcouraged and reduced but not wholly forbidden. It sufficed if their cost was internalized, borne by the offender.86
The boundary between morality and law has constantly shifted across history. Many behaviors have boiled off the core of immoÂrality to become legal: sex between racial groups, drinking, adulÂtery, homosexuality, to some extent abortion and prostitution, to some extent the use of inebriants other than alcohol. Incest may be moving toward a crossing of the ethical Rubicon.87 Polygamy is ambiguous. Monogamy has historically been the exception. China and India, together composing well more than a third of humanÂity, did not forbid polygamy until the mid-1950s.88 Outlawed in the West, it remains present throughout the Muslim world, in parts of nonÂMuslim Africa, surreptitiously among Mormons, as well as in more recent demands by urban hipsters for civil unions of threesomes.89 Bestiality has been decriminalized in some nations (although animal rights may end up trumping claims to human erotic self-expression). Euthanasia, once considered murder, is legal in several jurisdictions. Attempted suicide is less commonly punished than earlier and has been decriminalized in some sixty nations, mostly Western.90
Tax avoidance may be morally suspect, but tax evasion is illegal, too. Working on the Sabbath was once irreligious, immoral, and illegal, but, overall, Sabbatarian regulation has declined.91 Yet surÂprising numbers of laws still shape economic activity according to religious fiat. In allegedly secular Sweden, taxis charge even more on Lutheran high holy days than on weekends or nights.92 Signs on playgrounds in the Calvinist parts of the Outer Hebrides discourÂage children from using them on Sundays.93 Blue laws still regulate liquor sales on Sundays in the US. A popular movement in CathÂolic Bavaria seeks to reverse their few exceptions to Sunday closÂing laws. Communism sought to upend inherited moral instincts about property (or theft, according to the anarchist Pierre-Joseph Proudhon). The Soviet Union punished theft of state property more harshly than theft of private possessions, often with death and with no chance of amnesty, but the penal codes of most Communist states still prohibited conventional larceny.94
The law does not just reflect social value judgments; it helps shape them. Durkheim wrote that the collective consciousness is not offended by an act because it is criminal, but that it is criminal because society abhors it.95 This oft-quoted bon mot did not, howÂever, spare him the paradox he thought he was sidestepping. Yes, as he rightly pointed out, the quality of the criminality that society shuns is hard to define, but cleverly turning the tables does nothing to solve the causal problem. Why does the collective consciousness decide that something is abhorrent and therefore criminal? And, having done so for its own inscrutable reasons, how can things ever change? In fact, seen historically, not only has the law changed continuously, but changes in statute have also driven views of what offends. The law has taught us right and wrong, not just mirrored our views thereof.
The realm of the illegal and immoral has not just shrunken but also expanded. Many once legally indifferent behaviors are now outÂlawed. Two centuries ago, a man who refused a duel would become a social outcast. Today, one who accepts the challenge risks a charge of attempted homicide.96 Honor killings—once an imperative—are no longer permitted or acceptable. Conventional industrial waste disposal—that is, polluting—has become broadly illegal. Tobacco use is increasingly forbidden, almost like other drugs, even as other inebriants have become tolerated. Primogeniture once kept the family intact and men on top. Today, anyone who insists on leavÂing all assets to an eldest son would be regarded as peculiar and in most developed nations denied his or her wish.97 Theft of intellecÂtual property became a crime starting in the late eighteenth century and expanded massively through the twentieth, though in the digiÂtal age it has become something of a misdemeanor and even morÂally valorized as justified use.98
White-collar crime, once treated more leniently than physical offenses, is taken more seriously.99 Whereas being tough on crime is often a conservative cause, economic offenses have riled the Left— just as the women's and environmental movements brought their own rosters of new offenses to be prosecuted. In the 1960s, corpoÂrate executives from major American businesses, conspiring to fix prices, went to jail for the first time. In the 1970s, the US began prosecuting bribes paid to foreign authorities—once regarded as a cost of doing business. Insider trading has been criminalized, even
though it was earlier considered a normal—if a bit sharp—business practice or at worst a violation of tort or regulatory law.100 In 1934, insider traders could be required to disgorge only illicitly procured funds. By the 1960s, they could be fined as well; as of the 1980s, they were slapped with treble damage sanctions and jail. Prison sentences have become a regular occurrence in the US business world.101 Wall Street executives, pillars of their Connecticut comÂmunities, are perp-walked for the news cameras as they are taken to be booked. And as sentencing reform diminished judicial discretion and pegged punishments to the dollar value of the harm, prison stays for crimes such as securities fraud have lengthened to rival those for murder.102
Many now illegal acts have also become immoral: slavery, wife beating, marital rape, child labor, child marriage, child abuse, cruÂelty to animals. Pedophilia, considered normal (within limits) in ancient Greece, is today regarded as the single most immoral and illegal act, potently stigmatized. Once prized as manly behavior, hunting endangered megafauna has become both illegal and immoral.103 Now illegal and on the cusp of also being immoral are actions such as insider trading, price fixing, bribing, and antitrust violations. Driving drunk is illegal and increasingly regarded also as immoral. Some jurisdictions have harnessed popular sentiment to state enforcement by prosecuting hosts who allow guests to depart inebriated. Endangering consumers by knowingly selling deficient products is considered immoral. The days of caveat emptor (buyer beware), when consumers bore most risk in a purchase, are long gone. Sexual harassment is criminal and has recently also become regarded as immoral, not just a lark that women ought to tolerate. Abortion remains morally fraught but also illegal in many places and circumstances. Polluting is not just illegal but has become immoral, too. In surveys, it often ranks as more serious than traÂditional offenses, even murder.104 This new view is arguably colÂored by older theological concepts of pollution as a transcendent
violation. Ancient ideas of despoiling the sacred order were broader in their understanding of taint than modern biological and chemiÂcal concepts, though today deep ecologists come close to this older view.105
Law has sometimes directly enforced moral obligations. Certain duties became required of citizens: providing testimony in court, paying taxes, serving on juries and in the military. Perjury became a crime in England in the mid-sixteenth century. The act did not just undermine the court system but was also morally tainted since it violated an oath.106 The medieval English law of hue and cry obliged all within earshot to join in pursuing a felon.107 Hit-and-run laws today impose a duty not to leave an accident. Owners have obligaÂtions to those they invite onto their property. But, otherwise, there has been little legal requirement to help those in need.108 Drawing up the Indian penal code in the 1830s, Thomas Babington Macau- ley argued that the law could not specify what bystanders had to endure to help strangers. Should they be required to go one hunÂdred yards to caution someone against fording a swollen river, or a mile? The law should only keep people from doing harm, Macauley concluded, leaving morality and religion to encourage the good.109
But Good Samaritan paragraphs in civil law codes have demanded more.110 The moral obligation to provide aid where there is no risk to the bystander is a legal duty in several European nations.111 Israeli law requires aid in traffic accidents.112 Already the German penal code of 1870 required citizens to help the police on request, and the Nazi regime broadened this obligation into a citizen's duty to aid others. In 1954, the German Great Criminal Senate declared the duty a moral obligation and “an imperative command of Christian doctrine.”113 The equivalent French legislation was initiated in 1941 by the collaborationist Vichy regime to encourage Frenchmen to aid German occupiers wounded by resistance fighters.114 Since then, such statutes have been regularly invoked in Europe. The estate of David Sharp, who perished on Mount Everest in 2006 as forty other climbers passed him by, could have sued in France but not in Britain.115 The English-speaking world became aware of Europe's Good Samaritan laws after Lady Diana's death in Paris in 1997, when the French authorities considered prosecuting the paparazzi who chased her car and then stood by photographing her as she lay dying.116 The law of the sea has also long recognized a duty to help those in distress.117
Is moral evolution eventually reflected in the law? Or do changes in statute help shape ethics? Those remain open questions.118 AuthorÂities have often struggled to punish what most people do not regard as immoral offenses. Early modern popular opinion commonly refused to consider smuggling, poaching, or gleaning (once it had been revoked as a right) as crimes. They were “social crimes,” more illegal than immoral.119 Smuggling was once widespread across Europe, and the state's concern to prosecute it was too obviously self-serving in the early modern era, when tariffs were a major source of revenue.120 It was thus more akin to tax evasion today than to the peccadillo we now—in an era of much freer trade—consider it. Nonetheless, as late as 1964, when Goldfinger became the third hit James Bond movie, its villain still transported gold across borders by smuggling it as the bodywork of his car.
Sometimes the law has been a teacher. Making something illegal has less reflected a moral shift than helped to create it. The authoriÂties' vigorous suppression of dueling likely helped change opinion on something once held in favor. In the United States, tax evasion began to move into the realm of immorality when it was made a felony in 1924 and then in 1952 when its prosecution changed from merely a means for the state to recoup the income foregone to a tool of general deterrence.121 Other fairly technical offenses, such as insider trading, antitrust violations, and bribery, which were scarcely known to the public beforehand, became morally condemnable in the wake of outlawing them.122 Conversely, when law did not reflect popular morality, enforcement bogged down.
Juries nullified verdicts, refusing to convict those whose actions, although illegal, did not seem immoral. In so doing, they expressed society's broader sentiments. The growing acceptance of euthanaÂsia was revealed when it took the US authorities four attempts to convict Jack Kevorkian in 1997 for assisting the terminally ill to die.123 In the 1920s, prohibitionists thought they were bringing law and morality into alignment by forbidding the sale of alcohol, but, in fact, their moral intuitions turned out not to have been widely shared.