Reflective civics is a duty and delight for free people, especially Americans, given our founding principles viewing citizenship as not only a right but also a duty and a matter of sacred honor. American schooling K-16, and civic culture, can redress our recent deficits of civic health and of individual mental and spiritual health by emphasizing the higher meaning provided throughout the study of, and civil discussion about, citizenship and self-government in both civil society and public affairs. Then sections on (a) Civic Friendship and Replenishing America’s Civic Capital – including renewal of civil society and voluntary associations; (b) A Sputnik Moment for Academia: Restoring a Higher Civics – emphasizing the need for professors and higher education leaders to provide guidance and a good example on renewing civics, and supporting its renewal in K-12 schooling and civic culture; and (c) Lincoln’s Higher Call – that a renewed civics across K-16 and American culture should emphasize the consensus-forging figure of Lincoln, his magnanimity and statesmanship in the Second Inaugural in particular, calling for “malice toward none” and “charity for all.”

This chapter brings into view a problem revolving around Kant’s conception of moral character: at first sight, the idea that the notion of moral character plays a significant theoretical role in Kant’s moral philosophy is at odds with central Kantian theses concerning the nature of morality. Kant is committed to the principle that every rational agent can in any situation freely decide to perform a morally worthy action. This idea seems to be at tension with the notion that one needs an enduring character acquired through practice and training in order to perform a morally worthy action. This tension is made explicit in an interpretive dilemma: as a commentator of Kant, one appears to be faced with the choice of either relegating the notion of moral character to a secondary place in Kant, or accepting that Kant has a highly revisionary understanding of what moral character consists in. The chapter gives a suggestion for how to move forward from here, which points the way for the following chapters: the solution lies in understanding that and how in Kant the very idea of moral choice and the moral worth of individual actions is inherently tied to a conception of moral character.

This chapter delves into everyday administrative work at the Ministry of Culture, with a specific focus on the Mass Culture Institute, the ancestor of the current General Organisation for Cultural Palaces. Based on the personal papers of Saad Kamel, this chapter provides a brief institutional history of the Institute and the low- and mid-ranking bureaucrats who worked to accomplish its mission of cultivating the rural masses. This mission was influenced by diverging ideas about Arab socialism after the socialist turn of 1961. Thus, this chapter contributes to an intellectual history of Arab socialism, by showing how the Mass Culture Institute enacted a grounded version of ‘the socialism of culture’ (ishtirakiyyat al-thaqāfa). Moreover, the chapter explores the key relationship between responsibility and achievement at the Mass Culture Institute. Low- and mid-ranking bureaucrats are constantly concerned by what falls under their responsibility, which is managed by both avoiding to take responsibility for problems and seeking to take credit for achievements (however small). These everyday achievements embody, on a smaller scale, the postrevolutionary state project.

Why is God as well as justice called the truth? How does truth relate to deserts and the conatus, to beauty, generosity and grace toward others and toward all beings – be they persons, animals, plants, species, econiches, ecosystems, and the monuments of nature and culture?

This chapter explains and defends Kierkegaard’s conception of neighbor love as a duty against Kant’s well-known claim that a duty to love is “absurd,” because we do not have volitional control of our emotions. For Kierkegaard, neighbor love is a “passion of the emotions” that requires humans to love all other humans. I distinguish short-term occurrent emotions from long-term, dispositional emotions, and neighbor love is the latter kind of emotion, which Kierkegaard calls a “higher immediacy” or “immediacy after reflection.” We do not have volitional control of the former, but the long-term dispositional character of the latter means that over time they can be fostered or inhibited. Emotions are understood using Robert Roberts’s view that emotions are “concern-based construals.” The ground of neighbor love is a recognition of the “inner glory” that all humans possess as creatures made in God’s image. Neighbor love is good because it recognizes the value that humans possess, but it is a duty because it is required by God, who has the standing to make such a demand on humans. God has this standing both because God has created humans from nothing but also because God is love and destines humans for a loving relation with him that “does not end at a grave.” God requires humans to love their neighbors both because it is good, and because God knows that human sinfulness requires that love be a duty. Although neighbor love is a duty, it is also a virtue, though one that requires divine assistance to acquire. It is a virtue not only because of its goodness, but because it contributes to human flourishing by securing three goods humans naturally desire: perseverance of our loves, autonomy, and meaning or significance. To the degree that neighbor love is actualized as a virtue, its status as a duty becomes less important, though it does not cease to be a duty for anyone short of eternity, unless that person is a perfected saint.

Melissa Merritt aims to locate one of the limits of Kant’s Aristotelianism. While it is widely supposed that Aristotle is the most relevant ancient reference point for Kant’s conception of virtue as “moral strength of will” (6:405), Merritt argues that Kant draws primarily on Stoic ethics. Much of what may seem Aristotelian in Kant’s remarks about virtue — such as his likening it to “the state of health proper to a human being” (6:384) — should be read as nods to a pervasive tendency of ancient Greek thought, which views ethics as a dimension of natural teleology. Ethics, so conceived, is centrally concerned with how the human being develops naturally towards the telos of virtue, conceived as the completion of our essentially rational nature. While this is a feature common to Aristotelian and Stoic ethics, Merritt argues that Kant favors a specifically Stoic approach, one that has a notion of “appropriate” or completion-promoting action — officium — at its heart.

If Kant’s Doctrine of Right is an integral part of his moral philosophy and thus the categorical imperative is the basis of his Universal Law of Right, then this Law of Right must be derived from the Universal Law of Morals due to the provisions of Kant’s concept of Right. This chapter shows how this works in the framework of the natural law tradition.

This chapter examines the views of Smith, Genovesi, and Kant on the moral principles and motivations of economic actors. Smith’s perspective emphasizes self-interest, the invisible hand, and non-tuism – a concept introduced by his interpreters. In contrast to Smith, Genovesi argues that within the framework of civil economy, self-interest serves as a primary motivation for economic agents, alongside the desire to help one another. According to Genovesi, the moral foundation for economic actors lies in mutual assistance, perceived as intended mutual benefit. Kant’s viewpoint is more aligned with Genovesi’s than with Smith’s. However, for Kant, mutual assistance is not an inherent desire among economic actors but rather a directive of practical reason. Therefore, Kant’s perspective will be expressed through the concept of the duty to uphold the spirit of mutually beneficial contracts.

Unlike the utilitarians, the British Idealists – T. H. Green and F. H. Bradley – were steeped in ancient Greek philosophy and post-Kantian German idealism. Both thinkers had a eudaimonist outlook along with a profound interest in Hegel and Fichte, which had been mostly missing from anglophone philosophy. During his lifetime, Green was known more for his political ideas and activity than for his moral philosophy, which was published only posthumously. Green’s moral and political philosophy hang together, however. The justification for political order, and indeed, for any claim of right, Green thinks, is its role in enabling citizens to realize themselves in ethical action through active membership in a community with a common good. Green was a perfectionist eudaimonist, like Aristotle, but he was also a modern who, like Kant and Hegel, advanced an ethics of freedom. For Green, the self-realization that is our final end actualizes a positive form of freedom. For the most part, Bradley’s philosophical fame was due to his metaphysical and logical works, most especially, his Principles of Logic and Appearance and Reality. His Ethical Studies is an important work, however, which contains trenchant criticisms of Mill’s Utilitarianism along with a sketch of Bradley’s own idealist ethics.

Truthfulness is, so to speak, Kant’s go-to duty. He invokes it in a wide range of philosophical settings, such as his discussion of free will in the Critique of Pure Reason, in his argument for a pure moral theory in the Groundwork, in the detailed moral philosophy of the Metaphysics of Morals and in his late lectures on education. Even though its scope and its theoretical foundation vary, the duty not to lie remains Kant’s prime example of a strict and unequivocal obligation. By way of introduction, this chapter first provides a survey of some important passages in which Kant invokes or argues for the duty of truthfulness before turning to the textbook example that is the bone of contention between him and Benjamin Constant and presenting some reactions provoked by the main thesis of Kant’s essay “On a Supposed Right to Lie”: that there is an unconditional, absolute duty to be truthful even in emergencies.

The sense of duty is a virtue of caring, not directly about the good, or even about justice, but about doing one’s duty. Insofar as doing what one takes to be one’s duty is in fact to do what is good, the sense of duty functions as a backup for the more direct virtues of caring – generosity, compassion, and truthfulness, as well as justice. Being a virtue of caring, the sense of duty can be expressed in emotions: a feeling of satisfaction in having done one’s duties or feelings of guilt or shame at having neglected them. The sense of duty can vary, emotionally, according to how one conceives the authoritative source of duty, on a spectrum from reverence, through respect, to resentful acceptance. Example of the extremes beyond the spectrum are some Hebrew psalmists’ delight in the law of God and the contempt of the utter moral cynic.

The concept of a ‘formula’ (Formel) plays an important, if complicated, role in Kant’s ethics, especially in the Groundwork. The concept of a formula also plays an important role in Stoic accounts of moral reasoning in the Latin sources, Cicero and Seneca. This chapter explores the place and function of this concept in Stoic ethics and its origins in Roman legal theory and practice. It then raises the question of the relationship between the Kantian and Stoic uses of the concept, asking whether this is a case of direct influence of Stoicism on Kant’s moral philosophy. The chapter comes to no definite conclusion on the question, but aims to provide comparative materials that may help others to address the question.

Kant’s 1784 lectures on Achenwall is commonly known as the Feyerabend lectures because the manuscript was attributed to Gottfried Feyerabend. These lectures range over the topics eventually treated in Kant’s Metaphysics of Morals (1798), which include both right and ethics. From these lectures we learn how Kant thought about the concepts of end in itself, self-sufficient end and human dignity just prior to writing the Groundwork (1785). Kant accepts much of what he finds in Achenwall, but also advances criticisms of the concept of obligation found in Achenwall and also in Baumgarten. He also rejects Achenwall’s attempt to justify coercion of duties of right simply through the distinction, common in the tradition since Pufundorf, between perfect and imperfect duties. The present discussion concludes that in the 1780s Kant’s position on the relation of right to ethics was still unclear. He appears to base right on the ethical value of humanity as end in itself, but also worries that grounding right on an ethical principle cannot explain why duties of right may be coerced.

This chapter explores the impact of military grain provisioning on civilians through a study of yiyun, the Nationalists’ relay transport system. Having lost key sections of major railways and without adequate supplies of trucks or fuel, the Nationalists resorted to the large-scale use of civilian labor and equipment to transport military grain. There was no equivalent in scale in any other theater of World War II to the Nationalists’ reliance on mass local mobilization as a key mode of both military and commercial transport. Proponents of this nationwide scheme drew inspiration from the courier service of imperial times, but also applied the more recent concept of “scientific management.” As with granary networks, yiyun tied civilians directly to the prolonged conflict, extending state powers into the remotest communities through historic units of local administration, the baojia. Because both yiyun and granary networks hinged on civilian contributions of labor, property, and foodstuffs, they reveal the basis of the Nationalist war effort as the systematic imposition of sacrifice upon the citizenry.

This chapter studies how property rights are protected and recognized in common law. In doctrine, substantive rights are not recognized expressly but indirectly. Rights are recognized via doctrines that prohibit wrongs to rights. Common law protects rights in this manner for practical reasons. Courts are better equipped to enforce duties between rights-holders and aggressors than they are to work out the full scope of rights, and when the law prohibits wrongs to rights, it leaves to people the freedom to do whatever does not violate the prohibitions. To secure rights, however, legal duties and prohibitions are structured as seems likely to secure rights. This chapter illustrates nuisance and tort suits over train sparks. Both doctrines secure to owners and occupants rights to use land. The harm, interference, and unreasonability elements of nuisance are structured to secure use rights, and sparks doctrine rules out contributory negligence to secure the same use rights. This way of thinking about rights and wrongs goes against contemporary law and economic scholarship, and this chapter contrasts law and economic studies of rights with the approach developed in this chapter.

We have little basis to doubt (a) that we have good reasons to worship God, (b) that God is worthy of worship, (c) that worship of God is reasonable, (d) that it is unreasonable not to worship God, and (e) that worshipping God is obligatory. But none of these normative states of affairs amounts to or entails our owing God worship. The central aim of this chapter is to show that we do not by nature owe God worship; our owing God worship could be no more than a contingent matter. That our owing God worship is contingent does not entail or even suggest that there is any imperfection or limitation in God, and there are good reasons to hold that it is an attractive view of the relationship between God and humans that our owing God worship is a matter of a special contingent relationship between God and us rather than something that holds by nature.

This chapter develops a rudimentary theory of glory. Glory is a particularly elevated form of honor, a kind of “super recognition.” It is more exclusive and longer lasting than honor, and it is typically connected with promises of immortality and an “upgrade” of one’s reputation. We distinguish between political (or Periclean) and personal (or Achillean) glory. Personal glory is competitive by definition, political glory is not. We also discuss the scope of the term and suggested that determining the proper objects of glory (military, political, cultural, or even everyday pursuits) turns on the social role the concept is supposed to play. The status and role of glory change during different stages of a conflict. Early on (typically before a war starts) glory helps motivate people to fight for a cause. During the conflict, the preoccupation with glory usually fades among those who actually do the fighting, and after the conflict, the question of bestowing glory becomes subject to bureaucratic and social decisions. Furthermore, we argue that often those who actually do the fighting are not the ones who get glorified. We note the tension between positing that someone has a duty to fight and the practice of glorifying them for fulfilling that duty, and we also argue that glory is subject to both internal and external explanations. We conclude by tracing the relationship between glory and death, and examining the normativity of both Periclean and Achillean glory.

This chapter focuses on the ways in which English infantrymen understood duty and how their perceptions of their military role drew both on military and civilian culture. It underlines the differences between officers’ and other ranks’ understanding of their obligations. The army itself defined duty, like morale, as a set of ‘moral’ criteria. Officers’ duties were defined in their commissions and the King’s Regulations; their duty, at least to their men, was of an infinite nature. In contrast, the rank-and-file’s ‘contract’ with the military was finite and secular. In 1914, regulars viewed their job with a clinical and professional eye. However, for reservists and the civilian soldiers that followed them, the idea of ‘doing one’s bit’ came to dominate their perception of duty. Importantly, though, the cultural pressure of ‘respectability’ (drawn from both the military and civil society) informed their rationalisation of service. ‘Military cultures’ were also influential, particularly those of cheerfulness and obedience, which informed men’s actions, attitudes, and performance. What is more, the need to maintain ‘good character’ also exerted its own pressures. Men’s wartime record would influence their prospects once peace returned. Significant, too, was the soldiers’ perceived duty to England. After all, they were the defenders of the homeland.