European History Argumentative Essay
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Hanover Historical Texts Collection https://history.hanover.edu/courses/excerpts/161mill.html
John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (1859). Excerpts from the Original Electronic Text at Bartleby.com. (NB. Paragraph numbers apply to this excerpt, not the original source.)
Introductory
{1}The subject of this Essay is not the so-called Liberty of the Will, so unfortunately opposed to
the misnamed doctrine of Philosophical Necessity; but Civil, or Social Liberty: the nature and
limits of the power which can be legitimately exercised by society over the individual. A
question seldom stated, and hardly ever discussed, in general terms, but which profoundly
influences the practical controversies of the age by its latent presence, and is likely soon to make
itself recognised as the vital question of the future. It is so far from being new, that, in a certain
sense, it has divided mankind, almost from the remotest ages; but in the stage of progress into
which the more civilized portions of the species have now entered, it presents itself under new
conditions, and requires a different and more fundamental treatment.
{2}The struggle between Liberty and Authority is the most conspicuous feature in the portions of
history with which we are earliest familiar, particularly in that of Greece, Rome, and England.
But in old times this contest was between subjects, or some classes of subjects, and the
Government. By liberty, was meant protection against the tyranny of the political rulers. The
rulers were conceived (except in some of the popular governments of Greece) as in a necessarily
antagonistic position to the people whom they ruled. They consisted of a governing One, or a
governing tribe or caste, who derived their authority from inheritance or conquest, who, at all
events, did not hold it at the pleasure of the governed, and whose supremacy men did not
venture, perhaps did not desire, to contest, whatever precautions might be taken against its
oppressive exercise. Their power was regarded as necessary, but also as highly dangerous; as a
weapon which they would attempt to use against their subjects, no less than against external
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enemies. To prevent the weaker members of the community from being preyed on by
innumerable vultures, it was needful that there should be an animal of prey stronger than the rest,
commissioned to keep them down. But as the king of the vultures would be no less bent upon
preying upon the flock than any of the minor harpies, it was indispensable to be in a perpetual
attitude of defence against his beak and claws. The aim, therefore, of patriots was to set limits to
the power which the ruler should be suffered to exercise over the community; and this limitation
was what they meant by liberty. It was attempted in two ways. First, by obtaining a recognition
of certain immunities, called political liberties or rights, which it was to be regarded as a breach
of duty in the ruler to infringe, and which, if he did infringe, specific resistance, or general
rebellion, was held to be justifiable. A second, and generally a later expedient, was the
establishment of constitutional checks, by which the consent of the community, or of a body of
some sort, supposed to represent its interests, was made a necessary condition to some of the
more important acts of the governing power. To the first of these modes of limitation, the ruling
power, in most European countries, was compelled, more or less, to submit. It was not so with
the second; and, to attain this, or when already in some degree possessed, to attain it more
completely, became everywhere the principal object of the lovers of liberty. And so long as
mankind were content to combat one enemy by another, and to be ruled by a master, on
condition of being guaranteed more or less efficaciously against his tyranny, they did not carry
their aspirations beyond this point.
{3}A time, however, came, in the progress of human affairs, when men ceased to think it a
necessity of nature that their governors should be an independent power, opposed in interest to
themselves. It appeared to them much better that the various magistrates of the State should be
their tenants or delegates, revocable at their pleasure. In that way alone, it seemed, could they
have complete security that the powers of government would never be abused to their
disadvantage. By degrees this new demand for elective and temporary rulers became the
prominent object of the exertions of the popular party, wherever any such party existed; and
superseded, to a considerable extent, the previous efforts to limit the power of rulers. As the
struggle proceeded for making the ruling power emanate from the periodical choice of the ruled,
some persons began to think that too much importance had been attached to the limitation of the
power itself. That (it might seem) was a resource against rulers whose interests were habitually
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opposed to those of the people. What was now wanted was, that the rulers should be identified
with the people; that their interest and will should be the interest and will of the nation. The
nation did not need to be protected against its own will. There was no fear of its tyrannizing over
itself. Let the rulers be effectually responsible to it, promptly removable by it, and it could afford
to trust them with power of which it could itself dictate the use to be made. Their power was but
the nation's own power, concentrated, and in a form convenient for exercise. This mode of
thought, or rather perhaps of feeling, was common among the last generation of European
liberalism, in the Continental section of which it still apparently predominates. Those who admit
any limit to what a government may do, except in the case of such governments as they think
ought not to exist, stand out as brilliant exceptions among the political thinkers of the Continent.
A similar tone of sentiment might by this time have been prevalent in our own country, if the
circumstances which for a time encouraged it, had continued unaltered.
{4}But, in political and philosophical theories, as well as in persons, success discloses faults and
infirmities which failure might have concealed from observation. The notion, that the people
have no need to limit their power over themselves, might seem axiomatic, when popular
government was a thing only dreamed about, or read of as having existed at some distant period
of the past. Neither was that notion necessarily disturbed by such temporary aberrations as those
of the French Revolution, the worst of which were the work of an usurping few, and which, in
any case, belonged, not to the permanent working of popular institutions, but to a sudden and
convulsive outbreak against monarchical and aristocratic despotism. In time, however, a
democratic republic came to occupy a large portion of the earth's surface, and made itself felt as
one of the most powerful members of the community of nations; and elective and responsible
government became subject to the observations and criticisms which wait upon a great existing
fact. It was now perceived that such phrases as "self-government," and "the power of the people
over themselves," do not express the true state of the case. The "people" who exercise the power
are not always the same people with those over whom it is exercised; and the "self-government"
spoken of is not the government of each by himself, but of each by all the rest. The will of the
people, moreover, practically means the will of the most numerous or the most active part of the
people; the majority, or those who succeed in making themselves accepted as the majority; the
people, consequently, may desire to oppress a part of their number; and precautions are as much
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needed against this as against any other abuse of power. The limitation, therefore, of the power
of government over individuals loses none of its importance when the holders of power are
regularly accountable to the community, that is, to the strongest party therein. This view of
things, recommending itself equally to the intelligence of thinkers and to the inclination of those
important classes in European society to whose real or supposed interests democracy is adverse,
has had no difficulty in establishing itself; and in political speculations "the tyranny of the
majority" is now generally included among the evils against which society requires to be on its
guard.
{5}Like other tyrannies, the tyranny of the majority was at first, and is still vulgarly, held in dread,
chiefly as operating through the acts of the public authorities. But reflecting persons perceived
that when society is itself the tyrant—society collectively, over the separate individuals who
compose it—its means of tyrannizing are not restricted to the acts which it may do by the hands
of its political functionaries. Society can and does execute its own mandates: and if it issues
wrong mandates instead of right, or any mandates at all in things with which it ought not to
meddle, it practises a social tyranny more formidable than many kinds of political oppression,
since, though not usually upheld by such extreme penalties, it leaves fewer means of escape,
penetrating much more deeply into the details of life, and enslaving the soul itself. Protection,
therefore, against the tyranny of the magistrate is not enough: there needs protection also against
the tyranny of the prevailing opinion and feeling; against the tendency of society to impose, by
other means than civil penalties, its own ideas and practices as rules of conduct on those who
dissent from them; to fetter the development, and, if possible, prevent the formation, of any
individuality not in harmony with its ways, and compel all characters to fashion themselves upon
the model of its own. There is a limit to the legitimate interference of collective opinion with
individual independence: and to find that limit, and maintain it against encroachment, is as
indispensable to a good condition of human affairs, as protection against political despotism.
. . . .
{6}The likings and dislikings of society, or of some powerful portion of it, are thus the main thing
which has practically determined the rules laid down for general observance, under the penalties
of law or opinion. And in general, those who have been in advance of society in thought and
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feeling, have left this condition of things unassailed in principle, however they may have come
into conflict with it in some of its details. They have occupied themselves rather in inquiring
what things society ought to like or dislike, than in questioning whether its likings or dislikings
should be a law to individuals. They preferred endeavouring to alter the feelings of mankind on
the particular points on which they were themselves heretical, rather than make common cause in
defence of freedom, with heretics generally. The only case in which the higher ground has been
taken on principle and maintained with consistency, by any but an individual here and there, is
that of religious belief: a case instructive in many ways, and not least so as forming a most
striking instance of the fallibility of what is called the moral sense: for the odium theologicum, in
a sincere bigot, is one of the most unequivocal cases of moral feeling. Those who first broke the
yoke of what called itself the Universal Church, were in general as little willing to permit
difference of religious opinion as that church itself. But when the heat of the conflict was over,
without giving a complete victory to any party, and each church or sect was reduced to limit its
hopes to retaining possession of the ground it already occupied; minorities, seeing that they had
no chance of becoming majorities, were under the necessity of pleading to those whom they
could not convert, for permission to differ. It is accordingly on this battle field, almost solely,
that the rights of the individual against society have been asserted on broad grounds of principle,
and the claim of society to exercise authority over dissentients, openly controverted. The great
writers to whom the world owes what religious liberty it possesses, have mostly asserted
freedom of conscience as an indefeasible right, and denied absolutely that a human being is
accountable to others for his religious belief. Yet so natural to mankind is intolerance in
whatever they really care about, that religious freedom has hardly anywhere been practically
realized, except where religious indifference, which dislikes to have its peace disturbed by
theological quarrels, has added its weight to the scale. In the minds of almost all religious
persons, even in the most tolerant countries, the duty of toleration is admitted with tacit reserves.
One person will bear with dissent in matters of church government, but not of dogma; another
can tolerate everybody, short of a Papist or an Unitarian; another, every one who believes in
revealed religion; a few extend their charity a little further, but stop at the belief in a God and in
a future state. Wherever the sentiment of the majority is still genuine and intense, it is found to
have abated little of its claim to be obeyed.
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. . . .
{7}The object of this Essay is to assert one very simple principle, as entitled to govern absolutely
the dealings of society with the individual in the way of compulsion and control, whether the
means used be physical force in the form of legal penalties, or the moral coercion of public
opinion. That principle is, that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or
collectively, in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection.
That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a
civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical
or moral, is not a sufficient warrant. He cannot rightfully be compelled to do or forbear because
it will be better for him to do so, because it will make him happier, because, in the opinions of
others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for remonstrating with him,
or reasoning with him, or persuading him, or entreating him, but not for compelling him, or
visiting him with any evil in case he do otherwise. To justify that, the conduct from which it is
desired to deter him, must be calculated to produce evil to some one else. The only part of the
conduct of any one, for which he is amenable to society, is that which concerns others. In the
part which merely concerns himself, his independence is, of right, absolute. Over himself, over
his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign.
. . . .
Of the Liberty of Thought and Discussion
{8}The time, it is to be hoped, is gone by, when any defence would be necessary of the "liberty of
the press" as one of the securities against corrupt or tyrannical government. No argument, we
may suppose, can now be needed, against permitting a legislature or an executive, not identified
in interest with the people, to prescribe opinions to them, and determine what doctrines or what
arguments they shall be allowed to hear. This aspect of the question, besides, has been so often
and so triumphantly enforced by preceding writers, that it needs not be specially insisted on in
this place. Though the law of England, on the subject of the press, is as servile to this day as it
was in the time of the Tudors, there is little danger of its being actually put in force against
political discussion, except during some temporary panic, when fear of insurrection drives
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ministers and judges from their propriety; and, speaking generally, it is not, in constitutional
countries, to be apprehended, that the government, whether completely responsible to the people
or not, will often attempt to control the expression of opinion, except when in doing so it makes
itself the organ of the general intolerance of the public. Let us suppose, therefore, that the
government is entirely at one with the people, and never thinks of exerting any power of
coercion unless in agreement with what it conceives to be their voice. But I deny the right of the
people to exercise such coercion, either by themselves or by their government. The power itself
is illegitimate. The best government has no more title to it than the worst. It is as noxious, or
more noxious, when exerted in accordance with public opinion, than when in opposition to it. If
all mankind minus one, were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion,
mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power,
would be justified in silencing mankind. Were an opinion a personal possession of no value
except to the owner; if to be obstructed in the enjoyment of it were simply a private injury, it
would make some difference whether the injury was inflicted only on a few persons or on many.
But the peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human
race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more
than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging
error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and
livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.
{9}It is necessary to consider separately these two hypotheses, each of which has a distinct branch
of the argument corresponding to it. We can never be sure that the opinion we are endeavouring
to stifle is a false opinion; and if we were sure, stifling it would be an evil still.
{10}First: the opinion which it is attempted to suppress by authority may possibly be true. Those
who desire to suppress it, of course deny its truth; but they are not infallible. They have no
authority to decide the question for all mankind, and exclude every other person from the means
of judging. To refuse a hearing to an opinion, because they are sure that it is false, is to assume
that their certainty is the same thing as absolute certainty. All silencing of discussion is an
assumption of infallibility. Its condemnation may be allowed to rest on this common argument,
not the worse for being common.
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. . . .
{11}We have now recognised the necessity to the mental well-being of mankind (on which all
their other well-being depends) of freedom of opinion, and freedom of the expression of opinion,
on four distinct grounds; which we will now briefly recapitulate.
{12}First, if any opinion is compelled to silence, that opinion may, for aught we can certainly
know, be true. To deny this is to assume our own infallibility.
{13}Secondly, though the silenced opinion be an error, it may, and very commonly does, contain a
portion of truth; and since the general or prevailing opinion on any subject is rarely or never the
whole truth, it is only by the collision of adverse opinions that the remainder of the truth has any
chance of being supplied.
{14}Thirdly, even if the received opinion be not only true, but the whole truth; unless it is suffered
to be, and actually is, vigorously and earnestly contested, it will, by most of those who receive it,
be held in the manner of a prejudice, with little comprehension or feeling of its rational grounds.
And not only this, but, fourthly, the meaning of the doctrine itself will be in danger of being lost,
or enfeebled, and deprived of its vital effect on the character and conduct: the dogma becoming a
mere formal profession, inefficacious for good, but cumbering the ground, and preventing the
growth of any real and heartfelt conviction, from reason or personal experience.