1. Introduction
In A Theory of Justice Rawls lists publicity as one of the constraints on the concept of right allowed to the persons in the original position. According to Rawls, the parties in the original position ‘suppose that everyone will know’ about the principles of justice they choose. Rawls explains that the difference between this condition and that of universality is that universality leads one to assess principles ‘on the basis of their being intelligently and regularly followed by everyone. But it is possible that all should follow a principle and yet this fact not be widely known or explicitly recognized’ (Rawls Reference Rawls1971: 133). Unlike universality, publicity is the ‘explicit recognition’ that everyone is following a principle. Rawls also notes that ‘the publicity condition is clearly implicit in Kant’s doctrine of the categorical imperative’ (Rawls Reference Rawls1971: 133). Rawls is right. Kant’s categorical imperative does have a publicity condition. Yet, to my knowledge, no other commentator has discussed the importance of publicity for Kant’s account of morality. In fact, the context of Rawls’s own statement is a theory of justice.Footnote 1
Commentators have noted the converse, for example, that Kant’s principle of public right, which states that ‘all actions relating to the rights of others are wrong if their maxim is incompatible with publicity’ (PP 8: 381),Footnote 2 is ‘the juridical equivalent of the moral condition of universalizability’ (Shell Reference Shell1980: 170–3). However, these commentators have not noted that the categorical imperative itself also has a publicity condition implicit in it. Indeed, insofar as ‘publicity’, in the sense of ‘openness’ (Öffentlichkeit) (Laursen Reference Laursen1986: 586) in contrast to ‘secrecy’, can describe our maxims of action with regard to others (and even ourselves) aside from our relation to the state, it can certainly be considered a moral concept.
In this article I argue that publicity is integral to Kant’s view of morality. I also argue that from this it follows that there is in Kant an argument for a duty not to conceal our maxims of action. Furthermore, being open about our maxims of action gives us a way to deal with evil in the non-ideal world and hence to make moral progress. My view is in contrast to Korsgaard’s. In two essays Korsgaard argues that, although it has seemed to many commentators that Kant’s philosophy is meant only for an ideal world where there is no evil, there is space in Kant’s theory for actions that deal with evil in the real world. In the moral realm, Korsgaard argues, we can see the moral law as giving us a goal to live up to rather than an ideal of what our action ought to be now. We can therefore have special principles for dealing with present evil (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1986: 586). In the political realm she argues that, despite Kant’s claims that one ought never to rebel, in cases of an oppressive regime there is space in Kant for morally permissible revolt (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1997: 297–328). Katrin Flikschuh, however, has criticized Korsgaard’s views on revolution and argued that, rather than sanctioning revolution, the Kantian response to an oppressive state is reform through the publicizing of one’s views (Flikschuh Reference Flikschuh2008: 127–45).
I agree with Flikschuh: Kant’s view is that through publicity rather than ‘sidestepping’ our duties to the state we can deal with the evil of oppressive regimes. Moreover, Flikschuh’s point can also be applied to the moral realm: through publicity we can deal with moral evil. In fact it is because we can deal with evil by being open with our maxims that it is a duty to be so. Publicity is what can make the ideal real. I will focus mainly on Kant’s formulation of the categorical imperative in his formula of the kingdom of ends (FKE). Kant writes of the FKE that ‘it is a practical idea for the sake of bringing about, in conformity with this very idea, that which does not exist, but which can become real by means of our conduct’ (G 4: 436n.). I will argue that the ‘practical idea’ represented by the FKE is that of a kingdom in which our ends are open, and that, as a categorical imperative, the FKE requires that we be open with our maxims of action. On my reading, the way we ‘create the kingdom of ends on earth’ (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1996: 212) is through publicity.
In section 2 I explain what I mean by ‘public’ and by a ‘duty of publicity’. In sections 3 and 4 I provide some evidence that publicity is a moral concept for Kant by showing that it is already implicit in the first and second formulations of the categorical imperative. In section 5 I discuss the FKE formulation of the categorical imperative and argue that it is best understood as a moral imperative for publicity. In section 6 I defend this view and show how the duty of publicity can make the ideal real.
2. Publicity
The duty of publicity that I defend does not require that we always divulge our reasons in contexts where publicity is unnecessary. I can say ‘I will do x’ without always having also to say why. But it is never permissible for me to conceal my motives when asked for them. For Kant, a maxim of action is a ‘subjective principle of a volition’ (G 4: 400n.). A maxim contains my reason for action. It says what I am going to do, and gives the reason why. What I have in mind as a duty of publicity is the negative duty not to conceal or keep secret our maxims. There is no good reason to ever keep our maxim a secret.Footnote 3 We must therefore always be willing to state our reasons publicly. Sometimes, when we are asked why we are performing some action, we reply ‘none of your business’. I will argue that, from a Kantian perspective, this answer is not permissible.
By ‘publicity’ I mean ‘openness’, which is what I think Rawls has in mind when he says that a principle is ‘widely known’. In this sense, publicity is a cognitive property of a maxim. For a maxim to be public is for it to be open and cognitively accessible. The opposite of ‘public’ in this sense is ‘private’ in the sense of ‘hidden’, or ‘secret’. The publicity of a maxim, understood as its ‘openness’, is different from what is often referred to as the ‘universal validity’ of a maxim, its acceptability to all in rational discourse, as in Habermas’s account (Habermas Reference Habermas1990: 116–95), or Rawls’s own political concept of ‘public reason’, the use of reason when its subject concerns the good of the public and fundamental justice (Rawls Reference Rawls1993: 213). The conception of publicity I am referring to does not have to do with the content of a reason or its validity, but merely its cognitive accessibility. Aside from whether they are valid for us, reasons are things we can know. It is this cognitive property that I believe Kant has in mind when he writes that we ‘represent’ to ourselves the laws under which we act (G 4: 427). When we act we can cognize the particular law, or maxim, that we are following. Our own maxim of action can be open to us.Footnote 4
Along with universality and freedom, cognitive accessibility is a normative property of a maxim. A maxim is something that ought to be cognitively accessible, both to ourselves and to others. Our maxims are cognitively accessible when we are frank and tell others what our reasons are, rather than keeping silent or being evasive. Cognitive accessibility – the ‘openness’ of our maxims for action – is a norm that is distinct from the other norms that Kant attributes to maxims – universality and freedom – although it is related to both. Publicity is related to universality, since what is public is in principle universally cognizable and ‘widely known’. However, it is distinct from universality, since for Kant ‘universality’ refers to the universal applicability of a maxim and not its knowability. The publicity of a maxim is also related to its freedom, since, like what is free, what is public in the sense of ‘open’ has no limitations. Yet publicity is distinct from freedom in the sense of autonomy, since autonomy is a causal property of the will whereas publicity is not.
In what follows I will argue that publicity supplements the universality and autonomy of a moral maxim as a necessary condition for acting in accordance with the moral law. For Kant, to act with a good will is therefore to act according to a maxim that is not concealed and can be accessible to all. A maxim that cannot be made public cannot be the maxim of a good will. But in addition to providing us with a criterion for assessing whether or not an action is moral, Kant’s moral philosophy also shows us that publicity is a requirement of our actions; we have a duty not to conceal our maxims of action. It is not enough that one act with a moral maxim that need not be concealed; one’s moral maxim must also be cognitively accessible.
For Kant, there is no good reason ever to keep our maxim a secret. It is thus a duty always to be willing to state our maxims publicly. The duty not to conceal our maxims is different from the duty not to tell a lie. Although concealing a maxim often involves telling a lie, there is a difference between being open and not lying. Whereas the duty not to lie is the duty to be veracious about one’s maxims when one gives them, the duty to be open with our maxims is a duty always to be willing to give reasons in the first place. A duty to be open with our reasons reaches further than the duty not to lie about them, since it has to do with allowing access to our reasons in the first place, rather than the truth or falsity of those reasons if and when one gives them. Here, I would like to note that the moral duty of publicity that I am discussing pertains only to our reasons for action and not to our knowledge of facts, which I think on Kant’s accountFootnote 5 it may be permissible to keep secret. For Kant, the publicity that morality requires is openness with regard to our reasons for action, not the offering of facts for knowledge.
Still, there is some ambiguity in what it means not to keep something a secret. If no one asks, by not making my maxim public I am not really ‘keeping a secret’. No one wants to know. Yet, there are situations where, even though no one wants to know why I am doing what I am doing, they still ought to know. These are situations where I am acting on a moral maxim that ought to be known by a public that does not itself act on such a maxim, and hence is not a moral public. In such cases, not telling what ought to be known constitutes keeping a secret, even if no one actually asks for this information. In other words, not only are my moral maxims not ‘none of your business’, they are your ‘business’. In section 6 I will argue that the FKE imperative, which tells us to appraise both ourselves and our actions (G 4: 433) as if we were lawgiving in a kingdom of ends, requires of us that we make our moral maxims public and hence make ourselves into representatives of morality for the enlightenment of others.
3. Publicity in the FUL
In this and the following section I will show that publicity as a norm is already implicit in Kant’s first and second formulations of the categorical imperative: the formula of universal law (FUL) and the formula of humanity (FH). Although the following is merely a sketch of the role of publicity in the FUL and the FH leading up to my discussion of the FKE, it should be enough to give some support to the claim that for Kant publicity is a criterion of a moral action and we also have a duty not to conceal our maxims.
The FUL states that you should ‘act only according to that maxim through which you can at the same time will that it should become universal law’ (G 4: 421). According to Kant, a maxim that cannot be made a universal law will reveal itself if, when universalized, there results a contradiction. The formula of universal law, along with the ‘contradiction test’, thus serves as a test of the permissiveness of an action. Following Korsgaard, I believe the best way to understand the contradiction test is as a test for a ‘practical contradiction’. A ‘practical contradiction’ is what occurs when one universalizes one’s maxim and creates a world in which one is unable to achieve the purpose that is stated in the maxim. If, in this world, a contradiction occurs between the purpose of one’s maxim and its possible attainment, then this maxim is not morally permissible (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1996: 97). For Korsgaard, considering the contradiction test in terms of a ‘practical contradiction’ captures the sense of contradiction that is specific to practical rationality, by which the will acts as a cause of action. A purpose in action can only count as a sufficient reason for action if it is connected to it according to a law that is like a causal law, which must hold universally. Since autonomy requires that we act on our conception of a law, if we act on a maxim that cannot be universalized, we are not acting autonomously (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1996: 102). Our reason for action is instead a maxim to achieve our own particular interest; it is not the moral law.
Kant’s ‘contradiction test’, however, also implicitly includes a ‘publicity’ test. What it means to ‘will that one’s maxim be universal law’ is to will that one’s maxim of action be a universal law that is also ‘widely known’ and open to all. An action that fails this test is an action that must be kept secret if it is to achieve its purpose. Kant gives as an example the making of a false promise. The maxim to be tested is: ‘when I believe myself to be in need of money, I shall borrow money and promise to repay it, even though I know that this will never happen’ (G 4: 423). This maxim fails the contradiction test because it would necessarily contradict itself if it were made into a universal law. Kant writes:
For the universality of a law that everyone, when he believes himself in need, could promise whatever he pleases with the intention of not keeping it, would make the promise and the end one might have in it itself impossible, since no one would believe what was promised him but would laugh at all such promises as vain pretenses. (G 4: 422)
By making a false promise I am, in effect, willing the thwarting of my will (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1996: 97). But it is not just the making universal of the maxim that results in a contradiction in my willing. The maxim must be made public as well. Only if it is ‘widely known’ that ‘everyone could promise whatever he pleases with the intention of not keeping it’ would no one believe what was promised him but would ‘laugh at all such promises as vain pretenses’. If it is not public knowledge that everyone is making false promises, then false promises could in fact be successful. It is only when everyone knows that everyone is making false promises in order to benefit their pocket that it is impossible for someone to achieve this end by making a false promise. There is therefore a cognitive component to this test.
The FUL thus implicitly includes a publicity condition in the test for a moral maxim.Footnote 6 By willing that my maxim be a universal law I am not just willing as a fact of metaphysics that my maxim be one that necessarily applies to everyone, like Newton’s laws of motion, whether they are aware of the universality of this law or not. I must also be willing a condition in which it is universal that everyone ‘explicitly recognizes’ that this maxim is a law that everyone follows. In considering that a maxim should become a universal law I must also consider that it be public. The contradiction test therefore reveals not only when our reason for action is sufficient to serve as a cause for the action, as Korsgaard argues (Reference Korsgaard1996: 102). It also reveals whether our reason is one that can be open and shared. It is implicit in Kant’s account that the law one follows when one acts morally must be a law that one knows applies to all and that one knows others know is a law that applies to all.Footnote 7
It is noteworthy that Kant’s example in the Groundwork is of making a false promise rather than simply telling a lie. A promise is a commitment to act. A false promise is therefore not an intentional misrepresentation of a fact, but rather an intentional misrepresentation of an action. It is this kind of ‘falsehood’ that the contradiction test reveals to be wrong, by showing that when universalized – and publicized – there would be no uptake, and hence that by willing such an action as a universal law the will is also willing a situation in which it will be thwarted in its aim. But the universalizability test can only show this if it is also a publicity test in the way described above.
We can now begin to see how publicity plays a role in the evaluation of the morality of actions for Kant. The publicity of our maxims is the basis of the trust that makes possible mutual aid or the achievement of any purpose that involves others to achieve its aim. It is also what makes it possible to hold people responsible for their actions (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1996: 188–225). We cannot hold people responsible if we cannot know what their reasons are.
4. Publicity in the FH
In this section I want to show that Kant’s formula of humanity (FH) formulation of the CI gives us a moral imperative to make our maxims public. The FH states that you must ‘act so that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in that of another, always as an end and never as a means only’ (G 4: 429). For Kant, our ‘humanity’ is our rational nature, which exists as an end in itself and has an absolute worth (G 4: 428). Our rational nature has an absolute worth because it is that capacity by which we choose an end in the first place; without it, we could not attribute a worth to anything (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1996: 123). To treat humanity as an end is to respect one’s own capacity and the capacity of others to choose one’s own ends. To treat humanity as a mere means is to make someone act for ends they do not themselves choose, or to treat them as an object not capable of having any ends at all.Footnote 8
Unlike the FUL, which gives us a test by which we can determine which of our actions are permissible, the FH gives us a general principle from which duties can be derived. It is easy to see, for example, how the FH issues an imperative against false promises and thus a duty never falsely to promise. To make a false promise of repayment, for example, is to make someone think they are really doing one thing – lending money – when they in fact are doing another – giving money away. To deceive someone in this way is to manipulate them and treat them as a natural object subject to my causal powers for attaining my ends, rather than as an autonomous being subject to her own causal powers acting for her own ends.
Not just giving deceptive reasons, however, but also withholding reasons for action prevents someone from acting for their own ends and treats them as a mere means. By not being open with my maxims, I limit the capacity of another to make a rational choice, and hence do not treat her as an end in herself. Suppose that, rather than lying and promising to pay back money I know I will not return, I simply ask someone for money without letting them know why. When they ask the reason for my request, I say: ‘none of your business’. In this case, simply by limiting someone’s access to my reasons, I do not allow them the full use of their reason. I treat them as a non-rational being who has no interest in the moral value of an action. They can give me money or not, depending on how they feel, or on what they surmise of my situation, but since they do not know why they should give me money, they are not acting for their own ends.Footnote 9 By not giving the reason for my request, I am treating them as a means only, not because I am manipulating them by making them do something they would not choose to do, but because I do not consider them worthy enough to know my reasons, yet still expect they will comply with my request. I am asking them to act without knowing why. In this case, it is appropriate for them not to give me the money I am requesting, not for any reason relating to my situation, but simply because of the lack of information. Indeed, this natural response to a refusal to give reasons – not to engage in the action proposed – seems the best way to retain one’s autonomy.
Suppose, however, that it is not a case of wanting to know the reason why someone is making a request of me, but of just wanting to know why someone acts as they do. Suppose I am curious about why someone acts the way they do. Why, for example, has X never married? Maybe he never found the right person, maybe he likes to be alone, maybe he is gay and lives in a place where same-sex marriage is not legal. Whatever the reason, however, for him to deny me the knowledge of his reasons for action, just as in the example above, is to consider me to be incapable of setting my own rational ends with regard to him; it is not to allow me to treat his humanity as an end in itself.Footnote 10 When you tell me that my request for a reason for your action is ‘none of my business’, what you are indicating is that you do not think that I am worthy of this knowledge and that you do not respect my capacity to choose the right ends for any of my own actions in light of what I have learned about you. You might, for example, think that my actions are determined by bias or prejudice such that I cannot think from the standpoint of reason and come up with my own rational ends. Nevertheless, to say that your reasons are none of my business and that you will not give me access to them is for you to place limitations on my action by not giving me full information. My actions are limited because I am not given the opportunity to act towards you in the right way and hence do what I ought to do. We can now see that just as to give someone a false reason for one’s action and to lie to them is to treat them as a natural object subject to my causal powers, so to withhold from someone one’s reasons for action is to treat them as an object which cannot determine its own ends with regard to whatever information it receives in response to inquiries.
Here one might object that it is the person who takes an interest in another and makes the request for their reasons for action who does something wrong. If someone does not want to tell me why they have acted, is it right for me to ask them to tell against their will? Is this not an invasion of their privacy? My answer, and the one I think Kant would give, is that no wrong is done here and that we do have a moral right to others’ reasons. Indeed, what would it mean for a reason to be someone’s own private property? Here we can see the significance of the previous discussion of publicity as implicit Kant’s FUL. Part of what it means for Kant to say that my maxim of action should be understood to be a universal law is that what it is right for me to do in the circumstances I am in is what it would be right for anyone to do in such circumstances. There is no maxim of action that is right just ‘for me’. A right reason for action is, in this way, the property of reason itself. Since reason is a faculty that is universal, one’s reason for action belongs to all. This is not to say that a good reason for you to do something will necessarily be a good reason for me to do something. Rather it is to say that the reason why some action is right for you is not just limited to your particular person, but is a universal reason that ought to be able to be accessible (although not necessarily used) by all. As Rawls understood, a universal reason should also be one that can be ‘explicitly recognized’ by all. Such a reason does not belong to me, but is the public property of reason. A request for me to make public my reasons should therefore not be against my will. In fact, it should be part of my rational willing that the reasons that guide my action will be accessible to the public.
It is possible that someone could be motivated by reasons that she considers to be personal or that she would be embarrassed to reveal and that she therefore would not want to make these reasons public. Yet it is not rational to be embarrassed by motives that are themselves moral, and one ought not to be. If one acts out of respect for the moral law, then there is no rational space for embarrassment or shame. One might not want to make one’s reasons public for fear of appearing self-righteous. But one is self-righteous only if one makes one’s motives public in order to appear more moral than others and not simply in order to let others know what one’s motives are and that they are right.
I think that the reason we often do not want to make public our maxims of action that are nevertheless morally permissible is that we feel that by doing so we make ourselves vulnerable. Often this is by letting others know those of our ends that ultimately might not be realized and hence letting them know of our failures. For example, we resist telling others that we are applying for a grant or trying to conceive a child. Or we do not want others to know that the reason we have started an exercise regime is because we want to control a serious medical condition, for fear that they will lower their expectations of what ends we are capable of. But there is no moral reason not to let others know of our ends. Indeed, Kant writes that ‘the ends of a subject who is an end in itself must as far as possible be also my ends, if that representation (of humanity as an end in itself) is to have its full effect in me’ (G 4: 430). This does not mean that one should want for oneself what others want, but rather, insofar as another’s ends are moral, one should seek to promote those ends. This is the basis of our duty, outlined in the doctrine of virtue, to promote the happiness of other human beings, ‘whose permitted end I thus make my own end as well’ (MM 6: 388). But if I do not know what your ends are, then how can I promote your happiness?
It is worth noting that ‘humanity’ has a range of meanings for Kant. Along with our ‘ends-setting capacity’, Kant also often uses it to refer to human beings as a species. In the Doctrine of Virtue Kant associates humanity with the feeling of sympathy. He writes that sympathetic feeling is a duty and calls it the ‘duty of humanity’ ‘because a human being is regarded here not merely as a rational being but also as an animal endowed with reason’ (MM 6: 456). In the Religion (6: 26), Kant refers to our humanity as what determines the human being to be ‘a living and at the same time rational being’. This is in contrast to our personality, which determines us to be ‘at the same time a rational and responsible being’. Implicit in these definitions of humanity is our neediness as mere human beings. Kant describes our fellow human beings as ‘rational beings with needs, united by nature in one dwelling place so that they can help one another’ (MM 6: 453).Footnote 11 It is this aspect of our humanity that justifies the duty of beneficence: we will (at least sometimes) need help in attaining our ends (see Herman 1993). When I make my ends public, I give others insight into my human neediness and thereby make it possible for them to treat me as someone whose ends should be made their own as well.
In the examples above, where our inclination is to protect ourselves from others’ knowledge that we are vulnerable, the vulnerabilities at issue, the possible failure to achieve ends such as receiving a grant, conceiving a child, or good health, are vulnerabilities for which we are not (in the relevant cases) responsible, but are simply due to our being human beings. Even in the case of a failed grant application, it is possible that, despite doing the best job I could, there were other applicants who were simply better, or that there was an element of chance in the decision process. Failure at competition is just a consequence of being one human being among others. These are not moral failures. There is therefore no moral reason to keep such ends a secret. By making our ends public, we allow others to have access to our humanity and hence make possible what Kant calls a ‘positive agreement with humanity as an end in itself [where] everyone also tries, as far as he can, to further the ends of others’ (G 4: 430). Although I am not obligated to help you in the actual conception of your child (your end is not to conceive with me), once I know this is your end, I can offer you ‘moral support’. I can validate your end and support your efforts to achieve it. Indeed, people who place limitations between themselves and others by not giving others access to their reasons do not have friends. By keeping our ends secret from others, we do not allow ourselves to be considered as their human equals.Footnote 12
The FH therefore gives us a duty of publicity. Just as we ought to tell the truth if we are to treat someone as an end and not merely as a means, so we ought not to conceal our reasons. With regard to ourselves, this duty is implicit in – and a condition of – the first formulation of the CI, since the testing of our maxim of action for universality requires that we first know what our maxim is to the best of our ability, that we ‘represent’ it to ourselves (G 4: 412). But to be obligated to make clear to myself what my maxims are is just to consider my rational nature as an end in itself. It is to consider my rational nature as the source of my reasons. With regard to others, we must also not conceal our maxims for action if we are not to limit the use of their rational nature and our own as well. It is not enough to be truthful; we must also be straightforward and frank. Frankness is not just telling the truth instead of a lie. It is giving another clear and open access to one’s reasons. In his Lectures on Ethics Kant writes, ‘whatever militates against frankness lowers the dignity of man’ (LE (Vigilantius) 27: 560–1). For Kant, our dignity is our elevated status due to our capacity for morality (G 4: 435) (Sensen Reference Sensen2009: 309–31). By not being frank we limit and lower our own capacity to be moral, as well as that of others.
5. Publicity in the Kingdom of Ends
I will now provide an interpretation of Kant’s kingdom of ends formulation (FKE) of the CI and show that the best way to understand it is as an imperative to publicity. According to Kant, all of the formulations of the CI are ‘at bottom only so many formulae of the very same law’ (G 4: 436). But he describes the FKE – that formula by which all maxims from one’s own lawgiving are to ‘harmonize with a kingdom of ends as with a kingdom of nature’ – as what gives a ‘complete determination’ of all maxims (G 4: 437). This ‘complete determination’ is a result of a progression in the way of representing the principle of morality. The first stage of the progression is the FUL, which is what gives the form of the moral law; the second is the FH, which is what gives the matter to the universal law; and finally there is the FKE, which is the ‘totality’ of the system of the form and the matter of the universal law (G 4: 436). Although it is beyond the scope of this article to work out in detail the relationship between the three formulations of the CI, I will argue that the way in which the FKE gives a ‘complete determination’ of all maxims is through publicity. We can only arrive at a system of the form and matter of the universal law, that is, a system where our maxims are both universal laws and also limiting conditions for our treatment of others, if our maxims are open. The FKE therefore makes publicity integral to the system of the moral law.
The FKE states that one is to act ‘as if you were always through your maxims a lawgiving member in (im) the universal kingdom of ends’ (G 4: 438). Like the FUL, which tells us to act ‘as if’ the maxim of our action were to become a universal law of nature, the FKE also gives us a heuristic device for evaluating our maxims, an ideal of a ‘systematic union of various rational beings through common laws’, and tells us that when we act, we should regard ourselves ‘as if’ we were lawgiving in such a kingdom of ends (G 4: 433). But unlike the FUL, which tells us to assess our maxims (we are to act as if our maxims were to be universal law), the FKE tells us instead to assess ourselves (we are to act as if we are a lawmaking member of a kingdom of ends); it tells us how we ought to be. We are to act in such a way that through our maxims we become lawmaking members in a kingdom of ends. In what follows, I argue that we can only be lawmaking members in the kingdom of ends if we are open with our maxims of action.
Many recent commentators have given Kant’s kingdom of ends a semi-political interpretation and seen it as a ‘normative blueprint for a moral political order’ (Flikschuh Reference Flikschuh2009: 121). However, rather than asking us to consider ourselves as co-legislators in a state, the FKE directs us in our self-legislation so that we can be someone who can participate in an ideal kingdom of ends. It directs us to regard ourselves in our actions as part of a kingdom where everyone else already acts according to the moral law. Kant writes that we are to regard ourselves as lawgiving in a kingdom of ends (G 4: 434). Kant’s ideal of a kingdom of ends is therefore a moral ideal because it is an ideal union of rational beings where each one’s ‘internal’ freedom – the capacity to set one’s own ends is aimed at forming a systematic connection with that of others (G 4: 433). Forming a systematic connection with others, however, is not the same thing as legislating for them. Rather it is to engage with them in a reciprocal relationship, the necessary condition for which, I am arguing, is openness. We can now see how the publicity requirement of moral action is integral to the FKE formulation, since publicity is a necessary condition for that systematic relation of rational beings that is the ideal of the kingdom of ends.
The heuristic device of the FKE enables us to see what is the right thing to do, not, as with the FUL, by giving us a test to see whether our own maxim could be made into a universal law, but rather, by giving us an ideal of common objective laws and then making us see whether our maxims could fit in with them. The imperative to act ‘as if you were always through your maxims a lawmaking member in the universal kingdom of ends’ tells us to act so that through our maxims we make ourselves into lawmaking members in the kingdom of ends, which is a kingdom where everyone’s ends harmonize with each other’s. As Kant notes, if one just wants to figure out the right thing to do, one should follow the FUL, which ‘is best for appraising maxims’. If, ‘however, one wants to provide access for the moral law, it is very useful to bring one and the same action under the three (formulas) mentioned above and thereby, as far as possible to bring it closer to intuition’ (G 4: 437–8). Kant’s point is that, since the FUL already tells us what is the right thing to do, what the FKE contributes to our moral activity is an image that can guide us of what it would be like to be moral – a ‘pure representation of virtue’ (CPrR 5: 125) that can give us an incentive to the good. This image, I believe, is of ourselves as beings who are open with our reasons in a kingdom with others who are similarly open.
As an imperative, the FKE requires of us that we make ourselves into moral exemplars, or ‘public figures’ – rational beings who are open with our maxims. But as a heuristic device, by which we consider ourselves as members of a universal kingdom of ends, the FKE enables us to become such moral exemplars. This is because the ideal of the kingdom of ends serves to remove from my practical reasoning the obstacle of any apprehension that what I say or do will be used against me and that I will be made vulnerable by my good actions. Since I consider the members of this kingdom in which I am to act as themselves ideal, I can determine my actions from a point of view where being right is my only concern and I need not be concerned with the contingencies of acting in the real world where acting morally makes me vulnerable. To act in this way is to be free in the sense of ‘open’ described earlier, as ‘without limitations’. We are free from limitations imposed by fear of harm and hence free to act autonomously according to the moral law. This kind of open action is therefore what the ideal of the FKE both requires of us and guides us to achieve. By acting according to the FKE, and being open with our maxims, we become moral exemplars in the real world whom others in turn can follow, hence making the ideal real. This is why Kant writes that the kingdom of ends ‘is a practical idea for the sake of bringing about, in conformity with this very idea, that which does not exist but which can become real by means of our conduct’ (G 4: 437n.).
We can now see that the way that we bring about a kingdom of ends is not just through the universality of our maxims, but through their publicity. It is by making our maxims available to others in the real world that we make it possible for the ideal of the kingdom of ends to be real. Indeed, it is by means of publicity that it is therefore ‘through’ our maxims that we can become lawmaking members of the kingdom of ends. To be a moral exemplar is to make public our moral maxims; it is to be a moral ‘public figure’.
Flikschuh has argued that the FKE is a metaphysical ideal analogous to the highest good in the Critique of Practical Reason, and that the ethical order represented by the FKE is made possible through the unifying principle of God (Flikschuh Reference Flikschuh2009: 137). This is because in Flikschuh’s view the FKE, as an imperative to effect a possible kingdom of ends through the morality of my intentions, requires an ‘act of moral faith . . . in the non-futility of my agency even in the face of all empirical evidence to the contrary’ (Flikschuh Reference Flikschuh2009: 137). On my reading, however, the imperative to effect a possible kingdom of ends is not so much an act of moral faith in a God who can ensure that my endeavours are not futile, but rather an act of moral trust that when I act morally, others will do so as well. Rather than the ideal of the highest good in which virtue is rewarded with happiness and therefore requires faith in God, the kingdom of ends is an ideal of a kingdom in which there are no secrets and where there is trust. It is this view that makes the FKE something that, as Kant says, it is possible to bring about by means of our own conduct.
6. Publicity: Making the Ideal Real
I have argued that Kant’s moral philosophy obligates us to be public with our maxims. But can this duty be defended against critics who would claim that it is too reliant on an ideal? Just as Kant’s rigourism with respect to never telling a lie has been criticized for presupposing an ideal world in which there is no evil, perhaps a ‘duty to publicity’ can be criticized as requiring an ideal world in which no one has a reason to hide anything. The duty of publicity certainly does seem to require an ideal public of moral agents. It would seem that, in the real world, to make my maxims public would be to expose myself to being thwarted in my aims. Must I make myself exemplary through the publicizing of my maxims if such an action may result in harm? Often, non-ideal publics pressure us to keep our moral maxims hidden. Consider, for example, a woman who does not want to have children or even to marry for the reason that she wants to pursue a career and realize her talents. For a woman to make public such a maxim – that one will forgo having children in order to develop one’s talents – could open her up to public scorn, if not worse, in some cultures, and even prevent her from attaining her aim of realizing her talents.
Yet, I will argue, the duty of publicity is strict. The woman in my example has a duty not to keep secret the maxim that determines her action (of not having children). To see this, compare the duty to be open with the duty to tell the truth in light of Korsgaard’s ‘The Right to Lie: Kant on Dealing with Evil’. Although Korsgaard is perhaps right to say with regard to lying in the face of evil that in some cases it is permissible to tell a lie, it is not the case that we may depart from the moral ideal with regard to the duty to publicity. The difference is that the publicity of our maxims is a condition for acting with a morally good will, whereas veracity with regard to the facts is not.
According to Korsgaard, Kant’s FUL does not prohibit lying in all cases: ‘it is permissible to lie to deceivers in order to counteract the intended results of their deceptions’ (Korsgaard Reference Korsgaard1986: 330). It is possible, for example, to universalize the maxim, ‘In those cases where a murderer is at my door, I will lie’. It is noteworthy that the way Korsgaard shows that this maxim conforms to the FUL and passes the contradiction test is by submitting it to a publicizability test. Korsgaard explains that I can make public my intention to lie to a murderer and still succeed in this lie, since, even if I make public the maxim, ‘I will lie whenever there is a murderer at the door’, if the murderer does not think that I know that he is a murder, he will not think that I am lying to him. He will therefore not know that what I am saying to him is in fact a lie. This is a case in which the deceiver is deceived by his own deception. By hiding under the cover of a lie (that he is not a murderer) the murderer makes himself the subject of (my open) deception. Yet, even though this example shows that there are cases in which it is permissible to lie, it still presupposes as a norm the openness of our maxims. Here it is morally permissible for me to lie to the murderer only because I am open and frank about my maxim of lying to murderers. It is the murderer, who keeps a secret, who enables himself to be deceived. Whereas a maxim for lying is thus permissible according to the universalizability test (if only one is open about it), a maxim of concealment, however, is not. A maxim that included being evasive and secretive in my interactions with a murderer would not pass the universalizability – or publicity – test. Unlike a lie, evasiveness and secrecy would arouse the murderer’s suspicion that I know he is a murderer; he is demanding a frank answer.
In contrast to the FUL, however, Korsgaard believes that the FH and the FKE do not allow for any lying whatsoever. The FH gives us, as a perfect duty, that we cannot lie. Even in cases where another is evil, to lie to them is to treat them as a means. Similarly, according to Korsgaard, the FKE prohibits lying since to lie is not to respect another’s ends. The inflexibility of these two formulations leads Korsgaard to suggest a ‘double-level theory’ according to which, in cases of evil, the FH and the FKE can after all permit us to lie. According to this theory, the FH and the FKE can give us a goal to work towards, rather than an ideal that governs our present conduct (which is what the FUL gives us). The distinction between an ideal and a goal is that an ideal does not admit of progress towards it – either you have met your moral responsibility or you have not – whereas a goal does permit divergence from the ideal at present so long as one still works towards the goal. According to Korsgaard, we can thus understand the FH and the FKE to be expressing the value of humanity, but as not being so strict that they prohibit any violations at all. It is therefore possible to agree that in an ideal world lying is wrong, but to allow that in the current situation it is necessary in order ultimately to realize a moral goal.
I will not address Korsgaard’s views about lying further here. Instead, I will argue that, unlike (perhaps) telling the truth, not concealing our maxims is always obligatory, even in cases where the public is evil.Footnote 13 A two-level theory will not work. This is because publicity does not occur on two separate levels. It is not a goal. Rather, it is what enables us to achieve the goal, and make the ideal real. Here, I am not referring to the making public of our knowledge of facts, such as the whereabouts of someone who is about to be lynched. In the case of facts, keeping a secret is not morally different from telling a lie. In both of these cases, someone is given a misleading picture of the world in which he intends to act.Footnote 14 We are, in effect, saying ‘I do not know’ when we do know. In response to an action that is intended to be evil, a lie (or secrecy about the facts) may be permissible, as Korsgaard has argued. But rather than keeping secret a fact, my concern is with the withholding of one’s reasons for action. This is what I am arguing is prohibited by the duty of publicity. If I cannot know why you (think you) acted, I cannot know what your action is and cannot respond appropriately.
Although in the non-ideal world we often hide our motives because we fear condemnation, we have an obligation to be open with these maxims. A right reason for action is not just my own. It belongs in the public domain, where everyone can have access to it. Not only do I owe it to others that they can know my right reasons, but I also owe it to myself to make these reasons accessible to others. To act on right reasons, but still to hide them, is to allow myself to be treated as a means rather than as an end; it is to allow others to assume that I am complicit with their bigotry.Footnote 15
In those cases where my maxims of action are moral, but I do not feel I can make them public because I will be harmed, this is an indictment of the public.Footnote 16 Yet the fact that in the current environment publicity would make me vulnerable does not mean that I can consider the FH or the FKE a ‘goal’ that I can work towards rather than an ideal to live up to right now, as in Korsgaard’s account of lying. Although it is perhaps permissible to lie now in order to promote a future kingdom of ends, I cannot keep my maxim of action a secret now. Publicity at present is inseparable from the goal of an ideal that could be achieved in the future. It is often interesting when historians discover the hidden motives for why people acted in the past. But maxims only have moral force if they shape our interactions at present.Footnote 17 To keep a moral maxim a secret is to defer moral progress.
The reason why lying has posed a problem for Kantian morality is because in the non-ideal world, in the face of evil, it often seems that lying is the right thing to do, and that to tell the truth about the facts would be to contribute to what is wrong. Yet the case is different with publicity about reasons. Reasons, unlike facts, cannot be taken advantage of by forces of evil. The knowledge of the truth about where a runaway slave is hiding can enable evil forces to capture her, but the knowledge that one ought not to return someone to slavery can lead to no harm.
But perhaps the concern is with making public that I am the source of the reason, and not with the making public of the reason itself. Perhaps an ideal world is indeed required for us to risk revealing ourselves along with our maxims, whereas in the real world, where there is evil, attaching ourselves to the maxims we make public is too much to demand. Yet I have argued that the FKE formulation of the CI requires that I make an example of myself, like a public figure, and that not only the maxim but also its subject should be public knowledge. And I believe that this is what morality requires of us. To make it public that I am the source of the maxim is to add to it the force of possible further maxims that could back up the first one. Saying not only that slavery is wrong, but also that it is my end to condemn and put an end to slavery, puts my entire subject forward as an open source for interrogating the rightness of this claim. I make myself into a representation, and representative, of virtue. Perhaps, one might say, here Korsgaard’s two-level argument is appropriate. It says that when it seems that the FH and FKE require of us an action that at present will actually lead to a harm, it is permissible to go against them in order to achieve as a future goal the end they promote. Yet, even if we were to concede to Korsgaard this point, concealing my identity does not serve any future goal or endorse the value of humanity. It only protects me. I could be harmed for making public my maxims, but the maxims, and the public knowledge that they had their origin in me, would not be.
This duty of publicity pertains not only to maxims that have as their end some ‘public’ goal, such as putting an end to slavery. It also pertains to maxims that govern my own private, or personal, ends. If someone asks me why I am not married or why I do not have children, or even why I have missed work for the past month, I should tell them. It is not none of their business. In the real world, by making public my maxims, even in contexts where to do so makes me vulnerable, I contribute to a moral ideal. I do this by giving others access to those of my ends which, according to the FUL, are permissible, but which in a non-ideal society may be deemed wrong or inappropriate or a sign of weakness. To do so is for me to treat others as ends in themselves, and to allow them to choose how to act with regard to me. Acting this way is to act as if through my maxims I were a lawgiving member in the kingdom of ends. In the kingdom of ends, my maxims would be permissible laws of action and would be met with respect. By making these maxims public I make real by means of my conduct what is right, and contribute to moral progress.Footnote 18
7. Conclusion
I have argued that implicit in Kant’s moral philosophy is a duty to publicity in the sense of openness and that such a duty can be defended on Kantian grounds. It is not enough just to act on reasons that all others could accept. One must also allow others to know our reasons. That Kant himself saw this is evident in his discussion of the principle of public right: ‘all actions relating to the rights of others are wrong if their maxim is incompatible with publicity’; Kant writes of this principle that it ‘is not to be regarded as ethical only (belonging to the doctrine of virtue) but also as juridical (bearing on the right of human beings)’ (PP 8: 381).
The Kantian concept of publicity I have discussed in this article can connect morality and politics, the ideal and the real. By being open with our maxims in our moral interactions with others we can shape public opinion. Publicizing what we know is right can affect public sentiment and hence be a political act as well as a moral one. I think this is what Kant has in mind when he writes in ‘An Answer to the Question: What is Enlightenment?’,
There will always be a few independent thinkers . . . who, after having themselves cast off the yoke of minority will disseminate the spirit of a rational valuing of one’s own worth and of the calling of each individual to think for himself . . . (8: 36) . . . the propensity and calling to think freely . . . gradually works back upon the mentality of the people . . . and eventually even on the principles of government . . . (8: 41–2)Footnote 19