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Adam SmithA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
An object might have utility, a usefulness that promotes some measure of convenience, and for this reason we might regard said object as beautiful, but it is often the “fitness” of the object that excites our admiration and renders it “more valued, than the end for which it was intended” (168). A watch that keeps excellent time, for instance, is admired more for its “perfection” than for the punctuality it promotes (169).
As we admire objects more for their fitness than for their utility, so too do we approve of a man’s actions when they appear fit and proper, not when they appear merely useful. Indeed, “the sentiment of approbation always involves in it a sense of propriety quite distinct from the perception of utility” (176). When we exercise self-command, for instance, we are pleased not only because our act of restraint might prove useful to us in the future but also because “the sentiments which influence our conduct seem exactly to coincide with those of the spectator” (177).
Both custom, which is the result of lengthy habit, and fashion, best understood as the style and manners exhibited at any given moment by the wealthy and well-connected, “extend their dominion over our judgments concerning beauty of every kind” (181). This is true of dress, furniture, architecture, composition, and art. It is also true of physical beauty, to which people of different cultures apply very different standards.
Custom and fashion also affect our perceptions “concerning the beauty of conduct,” albeit to a lesser degree, for “the sentiments of moral approbation and disapprobation” have their roots not in custom or fashion but in “the strongest and most vigorous passions of human nature” (186-87). Where custom does appear to control moral sentiments, the contrasts in judgment can be striking. The same “degree of politeness” that “perhaps would be thought effeminate adulation in Russia, would be regarded as rudeness and barbarism at the court of France” (191). Likewise, when faced with suffering and distress, the American Indian demonstrates “magnanimity and self-command” that are “almost beyond the conception of Europeans” (191-92). Notwithstanding these acute differences occasioned by culture and circumstance, however, the actual “effects of custom and fashion […] upon the moral sentiments of mankind are inconsiderable, in comparison of those which they give occasion to in some other cases,” for “the greatest perversion of judgment” occurs not in the “general style of character and behavior” but in the “propriety of impropriety of particular usages” (195).
Compared to the other parts, Parts 4 and 5 are relatively brief. Each is undivided by sections and separated into only two chapters. Part 4 considers the influence of utility, or usefulness, and Part 5 considers the influences of custom and fashion, first upon general ideas of beauty and then upon our moral sentiments.
Together, Parts 4 and 5 answer any skeptics of Smith’s broader theory who might argue, on one hand, that we approve of conduct because we find it useful toward some desirable end, or, on the other hand, that we approve of conduct because it conforms to a particular custom or fashion. On the question of utility, Smith agrees that, within limits, we tend to approve of whatever serves a desired end. The virtue of prudence, after all, has a strong relation to what is most useful to us. However, Smith argues that there is a difference between utility and fitness. We are pleased with the utility, but what we most admire is the fitness, either of an object or a person’s conduct. This suggests that our approval of proper conduct stems not from a rational calculation of utility (or interest) but from something innate that allows us to develop an idea of what proper conduct should look like.
The same holds true for custom and fashion. Ostensibly substantial variations in conduct across cultures, for instance, are actually mere shadings of difference in particular habits. An aristocrat’s foppery would be met with more patient indulgence in some times and places than it would in others. The great virtue of self-command, however, when it produces magnanimity in the face of suffering, is admired as exquisite no matter where or when it appears, whether on a European battlefield or among the native inhabitants of America and Africa.