The Origins and Foundations of Human Inequality

'Tis of man I am to speak; and the very question, in answer to which I am to speak of him, sufficiently informs me that I am going to speak to men; for to those alone, who are not afraid of honouring truth, it belongs to propose discussions of this kind. I shall therefore maintain with confidence the cause of mankind before the sages, who invite me to stand up in its defence; and I shall think myself happy, if I can but behave in a manner not unworthy of my subject and of my judges.

I am to speak about humanity. The very question I am asked to answer makes clear that I am speaking to fellow human beings. For only those unafraid to honor truth would raise questions of this kind. So I will confidently defend humanity before the wise people who invite me to speak in its defense. And I will consider myself fortunate if I can simply prove worthy of my subject and my judges.

I conceive two species of inequality among men; one which I call natural, or physical inequality, because it is established by nature, and consists in the difference of age, health, bodily strength, and the qualities of the mind, or of the soul; the other which may be termed moral, or political inequality, because it depends on a kind of convention, and is established, or at least authorized, by the common consent of mankind. This species of inequality consists in the different privileges, which some men enjoy, to the prejudice of others, such as that of being richer, more honoured, more powerful, and even that of exacting obedience from them.

I see two kinds of inequality among human beings. I call the first natural or physical inequality because it is established by nature. It consists of differences in age, health, bodily strength, and qualities of the mind or soul. The second may be called moral or political inequality because it depends on a kind of agreement. It is established, or at least authorized, by the common consent of humanity. This kind of inequality consists of the different privileges some people enjoy at the expense of others. These include being richer, more respected, more powerful, and even having the right to demand obedience from others.

It were absurd to ask, what is the cause of natural inequality, seeing the bare definition of natural inequality answers the question: it would be more absurd still to enquire, if there might not be some essential connection between the two species of inequality, as it would be asking, in other words, if those who command are necessarily better men than those who obey; and if strength of body or of mind, wisdom or virtue are always to be found in individuals, in the same proportion with power, or riches: a question, fit perhaps to be discussed by slaves in the hearing of their masters, but unbecoming free and reasonable beings in quest of truth.

Asking what causes natural inequality would be absurd, because the definition of natural inequality alone answers the question. Asking whether there might be an essential connection between the two kinds of inequality would be even more absurd. Such a question would amount to asking whether those who command are necessarily better people than those who obey. It would also mean asking whether physical or mental strength, wisdom, or virtue always match a person's power or wealth. Perhaps slaves might fittingly discuss such a question within earshot of their masters. But the question is unworthy of free and reasonable people seeking truth.

What therefore is precisely the subject of this discourse? It is to point out, in the progress of things, that moment, when, right taking place of violence, nature became subject to law; to display that chain of surprising events, in consequence of which the strong submitted to serve the weak, and the people to purchase imaginary ease, at the expense of real happiness.

What, then, is the exact subject of this discourse? It is to identify the moment in history when right replaced violence and nature became subject to law. It is also to trace the surprising chain of events that led the strong to serve the weak. That same chain led the people to buy an illusion of ease at the cost of real happiness.

The philosophers, who have examined the foundations of society, have, every one of them, perceived the necessity of tracing it back to a state of nature, but not one of them has ever arrived there. Some of them have not scrupled to attribute to man in that state the ideas of justice and injustice, without troubling their heads to prove, that he really must have had such ideas, or even that such ideas were useful to him: others have spoken of the natural right of every man to keep what belongs to him, without letting us know what they meant by the word belong; others, without further ceremony ascribing to the strongest an authority over the weakest, have immediately struck out government, without thinking of the time requisite for men to form any notion of the things signified by the words authority and government. All of them, in fine, constantly harping on wants, avidity, oppression, desires and pride, have transferred to the state of nature ideas picked up in the bosom of society. In speaking of savages they described citizens. Nay, few of our own writers seem to have so much as doubted, that a state of nature did once actually exist; though it plainly appears by Sacred History, that even the first man, immediately furnished as he was by God himself with both instructions and precepts, never lived in that state, and that, if we give to the books of Moses that credit which every Christian philosopher ought to give to them, we must deny that, even before the deluge, such a state ever existed among men, unless they fell into it by some extraordinary event: a paradox very difficult to maintain, and altogether impossible to prove.

Every philosopher who has examined society’s foundations has seen the need to trace society back to a state of nature. But not one has ever reached that state. Some have freely credited people in that state with ideas of justice and injustice. They have not bothered to prove that people must have had these ideas, or even that these ideas were useful. Others have spoken of everyone’s natural right to keep what belongs to them. But they have not explained what they meant by belong. Others have simply assumed that the strongest have authority over the weakest, and immediately invented government. They have not considered how long people would need to develop any understanding of authority and government. In short, all these philosophers constantly dwell on needs, greed, oppression, desires, and pride. They have carried ideas gathered within society into the state of nature. While speaking of savages, they have described citizens. Indeed, few of our own writers seem even to have doubted that a state of nature once actually existed. Yet Sacred History clearly shows that even the first man never lived in that state. God himself had immediately provided him with both instruction and commandments. And if we give the books of Moses the credit every Christian philosopher should give them, we must deny something further. Even before the flood, such a state never existed among humans, unless some extraordinary event caused them to fall into it. That is a paradox very difficult to defend and entirely impossible to prove.

Let us begin therefore, by laying aside facts, for they do not affect the question. The researches, in which we may engage on this occasion, are not to be taken for historical truths, but merely as hypothetical and conditional reasonings, fitter to illustrate the nature of things, than to show their true origin, like those systems, which our naturalists daily make of the formation of the world. Religion commands us to believe, that men, having been drawn by God himself out of a state of nature, are unequal, because it is his pleasure they should be so; but religion does not forbid us to draw conjectures solely from the nature of man, considered in itself, and from that of the beings which surround him, concerning the fate of mankind, had they been left to themselves. This is then the question I am to answer, the question I propose to examine in the present discourse. As mankind in general have an interest in my subject, I shall endeavour to use a language suitable to all nations; or rather, forgetting the circumstances of time and place in order to think of nothing but the men I speak to, I shall suppose myself in the Lyceum of Athens, repeating the lessons of my masters before the Platos and the Xenocrates of that famous seat of philosophy as my judges, and in presence of the whole human species as my audience.

Let us begin, then, by setting aside the facts, because they do not affect the question. Our inquiries here should not be taken as historical truths. They are only hypothetical arguments about what might have happened under certain conditions. Such arguments are better suited to explaining the nature of things than to showing their actual origins. They resemble the theories our naturalists develop every day about how the world formed. Religion commands us to believe that God himself brought human beings out of a state of nature. It also commands us to believe that people are unequal because he wishes them to be. But religion does not forbid us to speculate about humanity’s fate if people had been left to themselves. We may base these speculations solely on human nature itself and on the nature of the beings around us. This, then, is the question I must answer and propose to examine in this discourse. Since humanity as a whole has an interest in my subject, I will try to use language suited to all nations. Or rather, I will set aside the circumstances of time and place and think only of the people I address. I will imagine myself in the Lyceum of Athens, repeating my teachers’ lessons. The Platos and the Xenocrates of that famous center of philosophy will be my judges, and all humanity my audience.

O man, whatever country you may belong to, whatever your opinions may be, attend to my words; you shall hear your history such as I think I have read it, not in books composed by those like you, for they are liars, but in the book of nature which never lies. All that I shall repeat after her, must be true, without any intermixture of falsehood, but where I may happen, without intending it, to introduce my own conceits. The times I am going to speak of are very remote. How much you are changed from what you once were! 'Tis in a manner the life of your species that I am going to write, from the qualities which you have received, and which your education and your habits could deprave, but could not destroy. There is, I am sensible, an age at which every individual of you would choose to stop; and you will look out for the age at which, had you your wish, your species had stopped. Uneasy at your present condition for reasons which threaten your unhappy posterity with still greater uneasiness, you will perhaps wish it were in your power to go back; and this sentiment ought to be considered, as the panegyric of your first parents, the condemnation of your contemporaries, and a source of terror to all those who may have the misfortune of succeeding you.

O human being, whatever your country or opinions, listen to my words. You will hear your history as I believe I have read it. I have read it not in books written by people like you, for they are liars. Instead, I have read it in the book of nature, which never lies. Everything I repeat after nature must be true, without any trace of falsehood. The only exceptions are where I may unintentionally introduce ideas of my own. The times I will speak of are very distant. How much you have changed from what you once were! In a sense, I will write the life story of your species. I will base it on the qualities you inherited, which your education and habits could corrupt but could not destroy. I know there is an age at which each of you would choose to stop growing older. And you will look for the age at which you would have wished your species to stop. You are troubled by your present condition for reasons that threaten your unhappy descendants with still greater distress. Perhaps you will wish you could go back. That wish should be seen as praise for your earliest ancestors and a condemnation of those living today. It should also be a source of terror to all who may have the misfortune to come after you.