Philosophy of the Modern Era

Leviathan by Hobbes

Hobbes (1588—1679) is a philosopher who is difficult to classify within any particular school of thought. He was an empiricist, like Locke, Berkeley, and Hume, but unlike them, he adhered to the mathematical method not only in pure mathematics but also in its applications to other fields of knowledge. Galileo's influence on his overall outlook was greater than that of Bacon. Continental philosophy, from Descartes to Kant, drew many of its concepts about the nature of human knowledge from mathematics, but it maintained that mathematics could be understood independently of experience. This, in turn, led to a diminishment of the role played by thought, akin to Platonism. On the other hand, English empiricism was little influenced by mathematics, tending towards a flawed conception of the scientific method. Hobbes, however, did not suffer from either of these shortcomings. Up to the present day, no empiricist philosopher has afforded mathematics its due recognition. In this regard, Hobbes's merits are immense. Nevertheless, he also possessed serious flaws that prevent his classification among the most eminent thinkers. He was impatient with subtleties and overly inclined to cut the Gordian knot. His solutions to problems are logical but accompanied by a conscious omission of uncomfortable facts. He is vigorous yet crude; he wields a halberd better than a rapier. Despite this, his theory of the state merits careful consideration, especially since it is more modern than any preceding theory, including that of Machiavelli.

Hobbes's father was a vicar, hot-tempered and uneducated; he lost his position after a quarrel at the church door with a neighboring vicar. Following this, Hobbes was taken in by his uncle. He acquired a solid knowledge of the classics and, at the age of fourteen, translated Euripides’ "Medea" into Latin iambics. (Later, he rightly boasted that, although he refrained from quoting classical poets and orators, it was not due to a lack of familiarity with their works.) At fifteen, he entered Oxford University, where he was taught scholastic logic and Aristotelian philosophy. These concepts remained specters in his later life, and he claimed to have gained little from his time at university; indeed, he frequently criticized universities in his writings. In 1610, at the age of twenty-two, he became the tutor to Lord Hardwicke (later the second Earl of Devonshire), with whom he undertook extensive travels. It was during this time that he began studying the works of Galileo and Kepler, which profoundly influenced him. His pupil became his patron and supported him until his death in 1628. Through him, Hobbes met Ben Jonson, Bacon, Lord Herbert of Cherbury, and many other distinguished individuals. After the death of the Earl of Devonshire, who left behind a young son, Hobbes lived for a time in Paris, where he began studying Euclid and later became the tutor to his former pupil’s son. He traveled with him through Italy, where he visited Galileo in 1636. In 1637, he returned to England.

For a long time, Hobbes adhered to highly royalist political views, as expressed in "Leviathan." When Parliament issued the Declaration of Rights in 1628, he published a translation of Thucydides with the clear intention of exposing the evils of democracy. However, when the Long Parliament convened in 1640 and sent Wentworth and Strafford to the Tower, Hobbes fled in fear to France. His book "On the Citizen," written in 1641 (though not published until 1647), essentially contained the same theory as "Leviathan." His views were actually prompted not by the civil war itself but by its anticipation; however, it was natural that his convictions were solidified when his fears were realized.

In Paris, he was welcomed by many leading mathematicians and representatives of science. He was among those who saw Descartes' "Metaphysical Reflections" before their publication and wrote objections to them, which Descartes published along with his responses. Soon, a large group of English royalist émigrés formed around Hobbes, with whom he socialized. For a time, specifically from 1646 to 1648, he taught mathematics to the future King Charles II. However, the publication of "Leviathan" in 1651 provoked discontent among émigrés. His rationalism offended most of them, and his sharp criticisms of the Catholic Church irked the French government. Consequently, Hobbes secretly fled to London, where he submitted to Cromwell and refrained from any political activity.

Nevertheless, he remained active neither during this period nor at any other time in his long life. He engaged in a polemic with Bishop Bramhall regarding free will; he himself was a committed determinist. Overestimating his abilities as a geometer, he fancied that he had discovered the quadrature of the circle; on this matter, he imprudently began to debate with Wallace, a professor of geometry at Oxford, who naturally ridiculed him successfully.

During the Restoration, Hobbes was patronized by the least sincere of the king’s friends and by the king himself, who not only kept a portrait of Hobbes on his wall but also awarded him an annual pension of 100 pounds sterling, which, however, his majesty often forgot to pay. Lord Chancellor Clarendon was offended by the favor shown to a man suspected of atheism; Parliament held the same view. After the plague and the great fire, when the superstitious fears of the populace increased, the House of Commons appointed a committee to investigate atheistic works, specifically mentioning Hobbes's writings. From this time onward, he could not obtain permission to print anything in England on controversial topics. Even his history of the Long Parliament, which he called "Behemoth" (though it expounded the most orthodox doctrine), had to be printed abroad (in 1668). His collected works appeared in 1688 in Amsterdam. In old age, his reputation abroad was considerably greater than in England. To fill his leisure time, at the age of 84, he wrote his autobiography in Latin verse, and at 87, he published a translation of Homer. I have not been able to establish that he wrote any significant book after the age of 87.

Now let us turn to the doctrines of "Leviathan," which are primarily the foundation of Hobbes's fame.

From the very beginning of the book, he proclaims his radical materialism. Life, he asserts, is nothing more than the motion of bodily parts, and thus automata possess artificial life. The state, which he refers to as Leviathan, is a creation of art and, in fact, is an artificial man. This is more than a mere analogy, and it is developed in detail. Sovereignty is the artificial soul. The contracts and agreements through which Leviathan was initially created have taken the place of divine command, when it was said, "Let man be."

The first part is concerned with man as an individual and with the general philosophy that Hobbes deemed necessary. Sensations arise under the influence of objects; colors, sounds, etc., do not exist in things. The qualities in objects that correspond to our sensations are movements. The first law of motion is established and directly applied to psychology: imagination is a weakened sensation, and both are forms of motion. The imagination of a sleeper manifests as dreams; the religions of pagans originated from an inability to distinguish dreams from wakefulness. (A reckless reader might apply the same argument to the Christian religion, but Hobbes is too cautious to make that assertion himself.) The belief that dreams are prophetic is as much a delusion as the belief in witchcraft and spirits.

The sequence of our thoughts is not arbitrary but governed by laws—sometimes laws of association, sometimes laws dependent on the purpose of our thinking (this is significant as an application of determinism to psychology).

Hobbes, as might be expected, is a convinced nominalist. There is nothing common, he asserts, except names, and without words, we could not perceive any general ideas. Outside of language, there would be neither truth nor falsehood, as "truth" and "falsehood" are properties of speech.

He regards geometry as the only genuine science created to date. Reason, by its nature, is calculation and must begin with definitions. However, in definitions, one must avoid internally contradictory concepts, which is typically not done in philosophy. For example, "incorporeal substance" is nonsensical. When objections were raised against this, asserting that incorporeal substance refers to God, Hobbes responded to these objections by first stating that God is not an object of philosophy, and second, that many philosophers believed that God is corporeal. All errors in general propositions, he states, arise from absurdity (that is, from internal contradictions); he cites the idea of free will and cheese mixed with bread as examples of absurdity. (It is known that, according to Catholic belief, the elements of bread may be inherent in a substance that is not bread.)

In this excerpt, Hobbes exhibits an old-fashioned rationalism. Kepler arrived at the general assertion that “the planets revolve around the Sun in ellipses,” yet other perspectives, such as that of Ptolemy, are not logically absurd. Despite his admiration for Kepler and Galileo, Hobbes failed to grasp the utility of induction for mastering general laws.

In contrast to Plato, Hobbes believed that reason is not innate but developed through labor. He then turns to an examination of passions. “Effort” can be defined as the small beginning of motion; when directed towards something, it is desire, while when directed away from something, it is aversion. Love is synonymous with desire, and hatred is equivalent to aversion. We deem a thing “good” when it is an object of desire and “bad” when it is an object of aversion. It is worth noting that these definitions do not provide objective grounds for “good” and “bad”; when people’s desires conflict, there is no theoretical method to resolve their disagreements. Definitions of various passions are largely based on conflicting life concepts. For instance, laughter is a sudden triumph. Fear of an unseen force, if publicly acknowledged, is religion; if not acknowledged, it is superstition. Thus, the determination of what constitutes religion and what is superstition is left to the discretion of the legislator. Happiness entails continuous progress; it consists in thriving, rather than in the attainment of success; there is no such thing as constant happiness, except, of course, heavenly bliss that transcends our understanding.

The will is nothing more than the final desire or aversion that remains after contemplation. In other words, the will is not distinct from desire and aversion, but merely the stronger side in the event of a contradiction between them. It is evident that this is linked to Hobbes's denial of free will.

Unlike most advocates of despotic government, Hobbes argues that all men are naturally equal. However, in the state of nature, before any authority emerges, each individual desires not only to preserve their own freedom but also to gain dominion over others; both desires are dictated by the instinct of self-preservation. From their contradictions arises a war of all against all, rendering life “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” In the state of nature, there is no property, no justice or injustice; there is only war, and “power and deceit are the two cardinal virtues of war.”

The second part of the book addresses how individuals escape these woes by uniting in communities, each submitting to a central authority. This is all presented as a result of the social contract. It is presumed that a group of people gathered and agreed to choose a ruler or supreme body that would exercise authority over them and put an end to the universal war. I do not believe this “covenant” (as Hobbes typically refers to it) was conceived as a specific historical event; the assumption of such is not essential to the argument. It is an explanatory myth employed to elucidate why individuals submit to, and ought to submit to, the constraints on personal freedom that follow their subjugation to power. Hobbes states that the aim of the restraint imposed by individuals upon themselves is self-preservation from the universal war arising from our love for freedom for ourselves and dominance over others.

Hobbes also contemplates why cooperation, akin to that found among ants and bees, is impossible. Bees, residing in the same hive, do not compete among themselves; they lack the desire for honor and do not use reason to critique governance. Their agreement is natural, but the covenant among humans can only be artificial. The contract must bestow power upon one individual or assembly, for otherwise, it cannot compel obedience. “A covenant without the sword is but words.” (President Wilson, unfortunately, forgot this.) The contract does not occur between citizens and the governing authority, as it later did with Locke and Rousseau; it is a covenant made among citizens themselves to obey whatever ruling authority the majority elects. By electing this authority, their political powers cease. The minority is bound just as firmly to obey the state as the majority, for the contract obliges submission to the government chosen by the majority. Once the government is elected, citizens lose all rights except those that the government deems fit to grant them. The right to rebellion is denied, for the ruler is not bound by any contract, while his subjects are.

The multitude united in this manner is termed the state. This is the “Leviathan,” a mortal god. Hobbes prefers monarchy to other forms of governance, yet all his abstract arguments apply equally to any other form of governance where there is a singular supreme authority not constrained by the legal rights of other governing bodies. He can reconcile only with a parliament, but not with a system in which governmental power is divided between the king and parliament. This stands in direct antithesis to the views of Locke and Montesquieu. Hobbes asserts that the English Civil War occurred because power was divided among the king, the House of Lords, and the House of Commons.

The supreme authority, whether an individual or an assembly, is termed the sovereign. In Hobbes's system, the power of the sovereign is unlimited. He possesses the right of censorship over any expression of public opinion. It is believed that his primary interest lies in maintaining internal peace, and thus he does not exercise his right of censorship to silence the truth, for a doctrine contrary to peace cannot be true (certainly a pragmatic viewpoint!). The laws of property must be completely subordinate to the sovereign, as in the state of nature there is no property; thus, property is created by the government, which can control its creation as it sees fit.

It is conceded that the sovereign may be despotic, yet even the worst despotism is preferable to anarchy. Furthermore, the interests of the sovereign often align with those of his subjects. He is wealthier if they are wealthier, he is safer if they obey the laws, and so forth. Rebellion is deemed wrong both because it is generally unsuccessful and because, if successful, it sets a poor example and teaches others to revolt. The Aristotelian distinction between tyranny and monarchy is rejected; “tyranny,” according to Hobbes, is merely a monarchy that the user of the term disapproves.

Subsequently, various justifications are provided as to why a monarchic government is preferable to that of an assembly. It is acknowledged that a monarch will typically pursue his personal interests when they conflict with the interests of the people, yet an assembly may act similarly. A monarch may have favorites, but so may each member of an assembly; thus, the total number of favorites in a monarchy is likely to be smaller. A monarch can receive advice from anyone and do so secretly, whereas an assembly can only receive advice from its own members and publicly. The absence of certain members from the assembly may result in another faction obtaining a majority, thus altering the policy. Moreover, if the assembly divides into hostile factions, civil war may ensue. Based on all this, Hobbes concludes that monarchy is the best form of government.

Throughout the “Leviathan,” Hobbes never addresses the potential influence of periodic elections in restraining the ambitions of the assembly to sacrifice public interests for the personal interests of its members. It appears that he is not truly thinking of democratically elected parliaments but of bodies akin to the Great Council in Venice or the House of Lords in England. He envisions democracy similar to that of antiquity, presuming direct participation of every citizen in legislative and executive power; at least that was his perspective.

According to Hobbes's system, the people’s participation is entirely exhausted by the initial election of the monarch. Succession must be determined by the monarch, as practiced in the Roman Empire when rebellions did not interfere. It is assumed that the monarch will generally choose one of his children or a close relative if he has no children, but it is thought that no laws should exist that would prevent him from making a different choice.

There is a chapter on the freedom of subjects, which begins with a remarkably precise definition: freedom is the absence of external obstacles to motion. In this sense, freedom coexists with necessity; for example, water necessarily flows downhill when its movement is unobstructed and therefore, according to the definition, is free. A man is free to do what he wishes but compelled to do what God desires. All our volitions have causes and are thus necessary in this respect. Regarding the freedom of subjects, they are free in places where the laws do not extend; this does not limit the supreme authority, for the laws could be extended should the sovereign wish. Subjects have no rights concerning the monarch, except those that the sovereign voluntarily concedes. When David condemned Uriah to death, he did not offend him, for Uriah was his subject, but he did offend God, for he was God’s subject and did not obey God’s law.

The ancient authors, through their praises of liberty, led people, according to Hobbes, to approve of rebellions and insurrections. He asserts that if interpreted correctly, the freedom they extolled was a freedom for sovereigns—namely, a freedom from foreign domination. He condemns internal resistance to rulers even when it appears most justified. For instance, he believes that St. Ambrose had no right to excommunicate Emperor Theodosius after the massacre at Thessalonica. He vehemently denounces Pope Zacharias for his assistance in deposing the last Merovingian in favor of Pepin.

However, he restricts the duty to obey sovereigns in one regard: he regards the right to self-preservation as absolute. Subjects possess the right of self-defense even against monarchs. This perspective is consistent, as self-preservation serves as a leitmotif in his establishment of government. On this basis, he posits—albeit with reservations—that a person has the right to refuse to fight when called upon by the government. This is a right that no contemporary government acknowledges. A curious consequence of his egoistic ethics is the claim that resistance to government is justified only in self-defense; resistance aimed at protecting another is always criminal.

Another entirely logical exception exists: an individual has no obligations to a ruler who lacks the power to protect him. This justified Hobbes's submission to Cromwell when Charles II was in exile.

Certainly, there should be no institutions such as political parties or what we would today call trade unions. All teachers must be executors of the sovereign's will and should instruct only what the sovereign deems beneficial. Property rights hold power only in relation to other subjects, but not against the sovereign. The sovereign has the right to regulate foreign trade and is not subject to civil law. His right to punish arises not from any concept of justice but from the fact that he has preserved the freedom that all people possessed in a state of nature, where no one could be punished for wronging others.

Interesting is the enumeration of causes (excluding foreign conquest) that lead to the disintegration of the state. These include: granting the sovereign too little power; allowing personal judgments among subjects; the theory that anything against conscience is a sin; faith in inspiration; the doctrine that the sovereign must obey civil laws; the recognition of absolute private property rights; the division of supreme power; imitation of the Greeks and Romans; the separation of spiritual power from temporal; denying the sovereign the right to tax; the popularity of powerful subjects; and the freedom to dispute with the sovereign. There were many examples of all this in the contemporary history of England and France.

Hobbes believes that it should not be too difficult to teach people to believe in the rights of the sovereign, as were they not taught to believe in Christianity and even in transubstantiation, which contradicts reason? Days should be set aside for studying the duties of obedience. The education of the people depends on the right to teach in universities, which must therefore be closely supervised. There should be uniformity of faith: religion is established by the sovereign.

The second part concludes with the hope that some sovereign will read the book and make himself an absolute monarch—a hope less chimerical than Plato's hope that kings will become philosophers. Monarchs are assured that the book is easy to read and very engaging.

The third part, “On the Christian State,” explains that there is no common church because the church must depend on civil government. In every country, the king must be the head of the church. The supremacy and infallibility of the pope cannot be accepted. As one might expect, it allows that a Christian who is a subject of a non-Christian ruler must externally submit: did not Naaman submit when he worshipped at the shrine of Rimmon?

The fourth part, “On the Kingdom of Darkness,” primarily critiques the Roman Church, which Hobbes despised for placing spiritual authority above temporal. The remainder of this section constitutes attacks on "empty philosophy," which is generally understood to refer to Aristotle.

Now let us attempt to express our opinion on Leviathan. The question is not an easy one, for in the book, the good and the bad are inextricably intertwined.

In politics, there are two distinct questions: one regarding the best form of government, the other concerning its power. According to Hobbes, the best form of government is monarchy, but this is not the most crucial part of his doctrine. The most important aspect of his doctrine is the assertion that the power of the state must be absolute. This doctrine, or something akin to it, arose in Western Europe during the Renaissance and Reformation. Initially, the feudal nobility was terrorized by Louis XI, Edward IV, Ferdinand, Isabella, and their successors. Then, the Reformation in Protestant countries enabled secular government to prevail over the Church. Henry VIII concentrated in his hands powers that no English king had previously wielded. But in France, the Reformation initially produced the opposite effect; the kings were nearly powerless to influence the struggle between the Guises and the Huguenots. Henry IV and Richelieu, shortly before Hobbes wrote, laid the foundations for absolute monarchy, which lasted in France until the revolution. In Spain, Charles V triumphed over the Cortes, while Philip II already held absolute power—though he did not wield it absolutely over the Church. However, in England, the Puritans ruined Henry VIII’s project; their actions led Hobbes to contemplate that resistance to the sovereign must result in anarchy.

Every society faces two dangers: anarchy and despotism. The Puritans, especially the Independents, were primarily terrified of the danger of despotism. Hobbes, witnessing the conflict among competing fanatics, was instead haunted by the fear of anarchy. Only the liberal philosophers who emerged after the Restoration and gained prominence after 1688 recognized both dangers; they disliked both Strafford and the Anabaptists. This led Locke to his doctrine of the separation of powers and the doctrine of political equilibrium. In England, there was indeed a separation of powers until the king lost influence; then, supreme power was seized by Parliament, and ultimately by the cabinet. In America, a system of political balance still exists insofar as Congress and the Supreme Court can resist the government; yet there is a tendency toward a constant increase in governmental power. In Germany, Italy, Russia, and Japan, the power of the government is even greater than Hobbes deemed desirable. Thus, concerning the power of the state, the world has followed the path Hobbes desired after a long period of liberalism, during which, at least on the surface, it moved in the opposite direction. Whatever the outcome of the current war, it seems evident that the functions of the state must continue to expand and that resistance to it must become increasingly difficult.

The foundation Hobbes proposes in defense of the state—that it is the sole alternative to anarchy—is largely correct. However, a state can be so bad that temporary anarchy seems preferable to its preservation, as was the case in France in 1798 and in Russia in 1917. Moreover, the tendency of any government toward tyranny cannot be recognized if the government lacks fear of insurrection. Governments would be worse than they are if subjects fully acquired the obedience Hobbes preached. This holds true in the political realm, where governments will attempt, as much as they can, to render themselves personally irremovable; it is true in the economic sphere, where they will seek to enrich themselves and their friends at society's expense; and it is true in the intellectual realm, where they will suppress any new discovery or doctrine that might threaten their authority. Thus, one must contemplate not only the danger of anarchy but also the dangers of injustice and stagnation that are intertwined with governmental omnipotence.

Hobbes's merits become most apparent when compared to earlier political theorists. He is entirely free from superstition; he does not dispute what happened to Adam and Eve during the Fall. He is clear and logical; his ethics, whether right or wrong, are entirely comprehensible and do not rely on any dubious concepts. Except for Machiavelli, who is significantly more limited, he is the first truly modern writer on political theory. Where he is mistaken, it is due to excessive simplification rather than because the foundation of his thoughts is unrealistic or fanciful. For this reason, he still deserves refutation.

In addition to the objections raised against Hobbes's metaphysics and ethics, there are two other points that also provoke dissent. The first is that he consistently views national interests as a whole and tacitly assumes that the fundamental interests of all citizens are the same. He fails to comprehend the significance of the contradictions among various classes, which Marx identified as the primary cause of social change. This stems from the recognition that the interests of the monarch generally coincide with the interests of his subjects. During war, there indeed exists a unity of interests, especially if the war is brutal, but in peacetime, the contradictions between the interests of one class and those of another can be substantial. It is by no means certain that, in such a situation, it is always correct to assert that the best way to prevent anarchy is to preach the absolute authority of the ruler; some concessions along the path of power-sharing may indeed be the only way to prevent civil war. This should be evident to Hobbes from the contemporary history of England.

Another aspect that highlights the rather limited nature of Hobbes's doctrine concerns the relationships between different states. The content of Leviathan provides no basis for suggesting that any relations exist between states other than those characterized by war and conquest, punctuated by rare respites. According to his views, this arises from the absence of an international government, as relations between states remain in a natural condition defined by the war of all against all. As long as international anarchy persists, it is far from evident that increased productivity within a single state serves the interests of humanity, as it may only amplify the brutality and destructiveness of wars. Every argument he makes in favor of government, insofar as it holds true, also applies to the case for international government. While national states exist and contend against one another, only minimal productivity can sustain the human race. The enhancement of military forces within individual states, in the absence of global mechanisms to prevent conflict, leads inexorably toward universal annihilation.