Reading Help Beyond good and evil
`
` 260. In a tour through the many finer and coarser moralities `
` which have hitherto prevailed or still prevail on the earth, I `
` found certain traits recurring regularly together, and connected `
` with one another, until finally two primary types revealed `
` themselves to me, and a radical distinction was brought to light. `
` There is MASTER-MORALITY and SLAVE-MORALITY,--I would at once `
` add, however, that in all higher and mixed civilizations, there `
` are also attempts at the reconciliation of the two moralities, `
` but one finds still oftener the confusion and mutual `
` misunderstanding of them, indeed sometimes their close `
` juxtaposition--even in the same man, within one soul. The `
` distinctions of moral values have either originated in a ruling `
` caste, pleasantly conscious of being different from the ruled--or `
` among the ruled class, the slaves and dependents of all sorts. In `
` the first case, when it is the rulers who determine the `
` conception "good," it is the exalted, proud disposition which is `
` regarded as the distinguishing feature, and that which determines `
` the order of rank. The noble type of man separates from himself `
` the beings in whom the opposite of this exalted, proud `
` disposition displays itself he despises them. Let it at once be `
` noted that in this first kind of morality the antithesis "good" `
` and "bad" means practically the same as "noble" and `
` "despicable",--the antithesis "good" and "EVIL" is of a different `
` origin. The cowardly, the timid, the insignificant, and those `
` thinking merely of narrow utility are despised; moreover, also, `
` the distrustful, with their constrained glances, the self- `
` abasing, the dog-like kind of men who let themselves be abused, `
` the mendicant flatterers, and above all the liars:--it is a `
` fundamental belief of all aristocrats that the common people are `
` untruthful. "We truthful ones"--the nobility in ancient Greece `
` called themselves. It is obvious that everywhere the designations `
` of moral value were at first applied to MEN; and were only `
` derivatively and at a later period applied to ACTIONS; it is a `
` gross mistake, therefore, when historians of morals start with `
` questions like, "Why have sympathetic actions been praised?" The `
` noble type of man regards HIMSELF as a determiner of values; he `
` does not require to be approved of; he passes the judgment: "What `
` is injurious to me is injurious in itself;" he knows that it is he `
` himself only who confers honour on things; he is a CREATOR OF `
` VALUES. He honours whatever he recognizes in himself: such `
` morality equals self-glorification. In the foreground there is `
` the feeling of plenitude, of power, which seeks to overflow, the `
` happiness of high tension, the consciousness of a wealth which `
` would fain give and bestow:--the noble man also helps the `
` unfortunate, but not--or scarcely--out of pity, but rather from `
` an impulse generated by the super-abundance of power. The noble `
` man honours in himself the powerful one, him also who has power `
` over himself, who knows how to speak and how to keep silence, who `
` takes pleasure in subjecting himself to severity and hardness, `
` and has reverence for all that is severe and hard. "Wotan placed `
` a hard heart in my breast," says an old Scandinavian Saga: it is `
` thus rightly expressed from the soul of a proud Viking. Such a `
` type of man is even proud of not being made for sympathy; the `
` hero of the Saga therefore adds warningly: "He who has not a hard `
` heart when young, will never have one." The noble and brave who `
` think thus are the furthest removed from the morality which sees `
` precisely in sympathy, or in acting for the good of others, or in `
` DESINTERESSEMENT, the characteristic of the moral; faith in `
` oneself, pride in oneself, a radical enmity and irony towards `
` "selflessness," belong as definitely to noble morality, as do a `
` careless scorn and precaution in presence of sympathy and the `
` "warm heart."--It is the powerful who KNOW how to honour, it is `
` their art, their domain for invention. The profound reverence for `
` age and for tradition--all law rests on this double reverence,-- `
` the belief and prejudice in favour of ancestors and unfavourable `
` to newcomers, is typical in the morality of the powerful; and if, `
` reversely, men of "modern ideas" believe almost instinctively in `
` "progress" and the "future," and are more and more lacking in `
` respect for old age, the ignoble origin of these "ideas" has `
` complacently betrayed itself thereby. A morality of the ruling `
` class, however, is more especially foreign and irritating to `
` present-day taste in the sternness of its principle that one has `
` duties only to one's equals; that one may act towards beings of a `
` lower rank, towards all that is foreign, just as seems good to `
` one, or "as the heart desires," and in any case "beyond good and `
` evil": it is here that sympathy and similar sentiments can have a `
` place. The ability and obligation to exercise prolonged gratitude `
` and prolonged revenge--both only within the circle of equals,-- `
` artfulness in retaliation, RAFFINEMENT of the idea in friendship, `
` a certain necessity to have enemies (as outlets for the emotions `
` of envy, quarrelsomeness, arrogance--in fact, in order to be a `
` good FRIEND): all these are typical characteristics of the noble `
` morality, which, as has been pointed out, is not the morality of `
` "modern ideas," and is therefore at present difficult to realize, `
` and also to unearth and disclose.--It is otherwise with the `
` second type of morality, SLAVE-MORALITY. Supposing that the `
` abused, the oppressed, the suffering, the unemancipated, the `
` weary, and those uncertain of themselves should moralize, what `
` will be the common element in their moral estimates? Probably a `
` pessimistic suspicion with regard to the entire situation of man `
` will find expression, perhaps a condemnation of man, together `
` with his situation. The slave has an unfavourable eye for the `
` virtues of the powerful; he has a skepticism and distrust, a `
` REFINEMENT of distrust of everything "good" that is there `
` honoured--he would fain persuade himself that the very happiness `
` there is not genuine. On the other hand, THOSE qualities which `
` serve to alleviate the existence of sufferers are brought into `
` prominence and flooded with light; it is here that sympathy, the `
` kind, helping hand, the warm heart, patience, diligence, `
` humility, and friendliness attain to honour; for here these are `
` the most useful qualities, and almost the only means of `
` supporting the burden of existence. Slave-morality is essentially `
` the morality of utility. Here is the seat of the origin of the `
` famous antithesis "good" and "evil":--power and dangerousness are `
` assumed to reside in the evil, a certain dreadfulness, subtlety, `
` and strength, which do not admit of being despised. According to `
` slave-morality, therefore, the "evil" man arouses fear; according `
` to master-morality, it is precisely the "good" man who arouses `
` fear and seeks to arouse it, while the bad man is regarded as the `
` despicable being. The contrast attains its maximum when, in `
` accordance with the logical consequences of slave-morality, a `
` shade of depreciation--it may be slight and well-intentioned--at `
` last attaches itself to the "good" man of this morality; because, `
` according to the servile mode of thought, the good man must in `
` any case be the SAFE man: he is good-natured, easily deceived, `
` perhaps a little stupid, un bonhomme. Everywhere that slave- `
` morality gains the ascendancy, language shows a tendency to `
` approximate the significations of the words "good" and "stupid."- `
` -A last fundamental difference: the desire for FREEDOM, the `
` instinct for happiness and the refinements of the feeling of `
` liberty belong as necessarily to slave-morals and morality, as `
` artifice and enthusiasm in reverence and devotion are the regular `
` symptoms of an aristocratic mode of thinking and estimating.-- `
` Hence we can understand without further detail why love AS A `
` PASSION--it is our European specialty--must absolutely be of `
` noble origin; as is well known, its invention is due to the `
` Provencal poet-cavaliers, those brilliant, ingenious men of the `
` "gai saber," to whom Europe owes so much, and almost owes itself. `
` `
` 261. Vanity is one of the things which are perhaps most difficult `
` for a noble man to understand: he will be tempted to deny it, `
` where another kind of man thinks he sees it self-evidently. The `
` problem for him is to represent to his mind beings who seek to `
` arouse a good opinion of themselves which they themselves do not `
` possess--and consequently also do not "deserve,"--and who yet `
` BELIEVE in this good opinion afterwards. This seems to him on the `
` one hand such bad taste and so self-disrespectful, and on the `
` other hand so grotesquely unreasonable, that he would like to `
` consider vanity an exception, and is doubtful about it in most `
` cases when it is spoken of. He will say, for instance: "I may be `
` mistaken about my value, and on the other hand may nevertheless `
` demand that my value should be acknowledged by others precisely `
` as I rate it:--that, however, is not vanity (but self-conceit, `
` or, in most cases, that which is called 'humility,' and also `
` 'modesty')." Or he will even say: "For many reasons I can delight `
` in the good opinion of others, perhaps because I love and honour `
` them, and rejoice in all their joys, perhaps also because their `
` good opinion endorses and strengthens my belief in my own good `
` opinion, perhaps because the good opinion of others, even in `
` cases where I do not share it, is useful to me, or gives promise `
` of usefulness:--all this, however, is not vanity." The man of `
` noble character must first bring it home forcibly to his mind, `
` especially with the aid of history, that, from time immemorial, `
` in all social strata in any way dependent, the ordinary man WAS `
` only that which he PASSED FOR:--not being at all accustomed to `
` fix values, he did not assign even to himself any other value `
` than that which his master assigned to him (it is the peculiar `
` RIGHT OF MASTERS to create values). It may be looked upon as the `
` result of an extraordinary atavism, that the ordinary man, even `
` at present, is still always WAITING for an opinion about himself, `
` and then instinctively submitting himself to it; yet by no means `
` only to a "good" opinion, but also to a bad and unjust one `
` (think, for instance, of the greater part of the self- `
` appreciations and self-depreciations which believing women learn `
` from their confessors, and which in general the believing `
` Christian learns from his Church). In fact, conformably to the `
` slow rise of the democratic social order (and its cause, the `
` blending of the blood of masters and slaves), the originally `
` noble and rare impulse of the masters to assign a value to `
` themselves and to "think well" of themselves, will now be more `
` and more encouraged and extended; but it has at all times an `
` older, ampler, and more radically ingrained propensity opposed to `
` it--and in the phenomenon of "vanity" this older propensity `
` overmasters the younger. The vain person rejoices over EVERY good `
` opinion which he hears about himself (quite apart from the point `
` of view of its usefulness, and equally regardless of its truth or `
` falsehood), just as he suffers from every bad opinion: for he `
` subjects himself to both, he feels himself subjected to both, by `
` that oldest instinct of subjection which breaks forth in him.--It `
` is "the slave" in the vain man's blood, the remains of the `
` slave's craftiness--and how much of the "slave" is still left in `
` woman, for instance!--which seeks to SEDUCE to good opinions of `
` itself; it is the slave, too, who immediately afterwards falls `
` prostrate himself before these opinions, as though he had not `
` called them forth.--And to repeat it again: vanity is an atavism. `
` `
` 262. A SPECIES originates, and a type becomes established and `
` strong in the long struggle with essentially constant `
` UNFAVOURABLE conditions. On the other hand, it is known by the `
` experience of breeders that species which receive super-abundant `
` nourishment, and in general a surplus of protection and care, `
` immediately tend in the most marked way to develop variations, `
` and are fertile in prodigies and monstrosities (also in monstrous `
` vices). Now look at an aristocratic commonwealth, say an ancient `
` Greek polis, or Venice, as a voluntary or involuntary contrivance `
` for the purpose of REARING human beings; there are there men `
` beside one another, thrown upon their own resources, who want to `
` make their species prevail, chiefly because they MUST prevail, or `
` else run the terrible danger of being exterminated. The favour, `
` the super-abundance, the protection are there lacking under which `
`
` 260. In a tour through the many finer and coarser moralities `
` which have hitherto prevailed or still prevail on the earth, I `
` found certain traits recurring regularly together, and connected `
` with one another, until finally two primary types revealed `
` themselves to me, and a radical distinction was brought to light. `
` There is MASTER-MORALITY and SLAVE-MORALITY,--I would at once `
` add, however, that in all higher and mixed civilizations, there `
` are also attempts at the reconciliation of the two moralities, `
` but one finds still oftener the confusion and mutual `
` misunderstanding of them, indeed sometimes their close `
` juxtaposition--even in the same man, within one soul. The `
` distinctions of moral values have either originated in a ruling `
` caste, pleasantly conscious of being different from the ruled--or `
` among the ruled class, the slaves and dependents of all sorts. In `
` the first case, when it is the rulers who determine the `
` conception "good," it is the exalted, proud disposition which is `
` regarded as the distinguishing feature, and that which determines `
` the order of rank. The noble type of man separates from himself `
` the beings in whom the opposite of this exalted, proud `
` disposition displays itself he despises them. Let it at once be `
` noted that in this first kind of morality the antithesis "good" `
` and "bad" means practically the same as "noble" and `
` "despicable",--the antithesis "good" and "EVIL" is of a different `
` origin. The cowardly, the timid, the insignificant, and those `
` thinking merely of narrow utility are despised; moreover, also, `
` the distrustful, with their constrained glances, the self- `
` abasing, the dog-like kind of men who let themselves be abused, `
` the mendicant flatterers, and above all the liars:--it is a `
` fundamental belief of all aristocrats that the common people are `
` untruthful. "We truthful ones"--the nobility in ancient Greece `
` called themselves. It is obvious that everywhere the designations `
` of moral value were at first applied to MEN; and were only `
` derivatively and at a later period applied to ACTIONS; it is a `
` gross mistake, therefore, when historians of morals start with `
` questions like, "Why have sympathetic actions been praised?" The `
` noble type of man regards HIMSELF as a determiner of values; he `
` does not require to be approved of; he passes the judgment: "What `
` is injurious to me is injurious in itself;" he knows that it is he `
` himself only who confers honour on things; he is a CREATOR OF `
` VALUES. He honours whatever he recognizes in himself: such `
` morality equals self-glorification. In the foreground there is `
` the feeling of plenitude, of power, which seeks to overflow, the `
` happiness of high tension, the consciousness of a wealth which `
` would fain give and bestow:--the noble man also helps the `
` unfortunate, but not--or scarcely--out of pity, but rather from `
` an impulse generated by the super-abundance of power. The noble `
` man honours in himself the powerful one, him also who has power `
` over himself, who knows how to speak and how to keep silence, who `
` takes pleasure in subjecting himself to severity and hardness, `
` and has reverence for all that is severe and hard. "Wotan placed `
` a hard heart in my breast," says an old Scandinavian Saga: it is `
` thus rightly expressed from the soul of a proud Viking. Such a `
` type of man is even proud of not being made for sympathy; the `
` hero of the Saga therefore adds warningly: "He who has not a hard `
` heart when young, will never have one." The noble and brave who `
` think thus are the furthest removed from the morality which sees `
` precisely in sympathy, or in acting for the good of others, or in `
` DESINTERESSEMENT, the characteristic of the moral; faith in `
` oneself, pride in oneself, a radical enmity and irony towards `
` "selflessness," belong as definitely to noble morality, as do a `
` careless scorn and precaution in presence of sympathy and the `
` "warm heart."--It is the powerful who KNOW how to honour, it is `
` their art, their domain for invention. The profound reverence for `
` age and for tradition--all law rests on this double reverence,-- `
` the belief and prejudice in favour of ancestors and unfavourable `
` to newcomers, is typical in the morality of the powerful; and if, `
` reversely, men of "modern ideas" believe almost instinctively in `
` "progress" and the "future," and are more and more lacking in `
` respect for old age, the ignoble origin of these "ideas" has `
` complacently betrayed itself thereby. A morality of the ruling `
` class, however, is more especially foreign and irritating to `
` present-day taste in the sternness of its principle that one has `
` duties only to one's equals; that one may act towards beings of a `
` lower rank, towards all that is foreign, just as seems good to `
` one, or "as the heart desires," and in any case "beyond good and `
` evil": it is here that sympathy and similar sentiments can have a `
` place. The ability and obligation to exercise prolonged gratitude `
` and prolonged revenge--both only within the circle of equals,-- `
` artfulness in retaliation, RAFFINEMENT of the idea in friendship, `
` a certain necessity to have enemies (as outlets for the emotions `
` of envy, quarrelsomeness, arrogance--in fact, in order to be a `
` good FRIEND): all these are typical characteristics of the noble `
` morality, which, as has been pointed out, is not the morality of `
` "modern ideas," and is therefore at present difficult to realize, `
` and also to unearth and disclose.--It is otherwise with the `
` second type of morality, SLAVE-MORALITY. Supposing that the `
` abused, the oppressed, the suffering, the unemancipated, the `
` weary, and those uncertain of themselves should moralize, what `
` will be the common element in their moral estimates? Probably a `
` pessimistic suspicion with regard to the entire situation of man `
` will find expression, perhaps a condemnation of man, together `
` with his situation. The slave has an unfavourable eye for the `
` virtues of the powerful; he has a skepticism and distrust, a `
` REFINEMENT of distrust of everything "good" that is there `
` honoured--he would fain persuade himself that the very happiness `
` there is not genuine. On the other hand, THOSE qualities which `
` serve to alleviate the existence of sufferers are brought into `
` prominence and flooded with light; it is here that sympathy, the `
` kind, helping hand, the warm heart, patience, diligence, `
` humility, and friendliness attain to honour; for here these are `
` the most useful qualities, and almost the only means of `
` supporting the burden of existence. Slave-morality is essentially `
` the morality of utility. Here is the seat of the origin of the `
` famous antithesis "good" and "evil":--power and dangerousness are `
` assumed to reside in the evil, a certain dreadfulness, subtlety, `
` and strength, which do not admit of being despised. According to `
` slave-morality, therefore, the "evil" man arouses fear; according `
` to master-morality, it is precisely the "good" man who arouses `
` fear and seeks to arouse it, while the bad man is regarded as the `
` despicable being. The contrast attains its maximum when, in `
` accordance with the logical consequences of slave-morality, a `
` shade of depreciation--it may be slight and well-intentioned--at `
` last attaches itself to the "good" man of this morality; because, `
` according to the servile mode of thought, the good man must in `
` any case be the SAFE man: he is good-natured, easily deceived, `
` perhaps a little stupid, un bonhomme. Everywhere that slave- `
` morality gains the ascendancy, language shows a tendency to `
` approximate the significations of the words "good" and "stupid."- `
` -A last fundamental difference: the desire for FREEDOM, the `
` instinct for happiness and the refinements of the feeling of `
` liberty belong as necessarily to slave-morals and morality, as `
` artifice and enthusiasm in reverence and devotion are the regular `
` symptoms of an aristocratic mode of thinking and estimating.-- `
` Hence we can understand without further detail why love AS A `
` PASSION--it is our European specialty--must absolutely be of `
` noble origin; as is well known, its invention is due to the `
` Provencal poet-cavaliers, those brilliant, ingenious men of the `
` "gai saber," to whom Europe owes so much, and almost owes itself. `
` `
` 261. Vanity is one of the things which are perhaps most difficult `
` for a noble man to understand: he will be tempted to deny it, `
` where another kind of man thinks he sees it self-evidently. The `
` problem for him is to represent to his mind beings who seek to `
` arouse a good opinion of themselves which they themselves do not `
` possess--and consequently also do not "deserve,"--and who yet `
` BELIEVE in this good opinion afterwards. This seems to him on the `
` one hand such bad taste and so self-disrespectful, and on the `
` other hand so grotesquely unreasonable, that he would like to `
` consider vanity an exception, and is doubtful about it in most `
` cases when it is spoken of. He will say, for instance: "I may be `
` mistaken about my value, and on the other hand may nevertheless `
` demand that my value should be acknowledged by others precisely `
` as I rate it:--that, however, is not vanity (but self-conceit, `
` or, in most cases, that which is called 'humility,' and also `
` 'modesty')." Or he will even say: "For many reasons I can delight `
` in the good opinion of others, perhaps because I love and honour `
` them, and rejoice in all their joys, perhaps also because their `
` good opinion endorses and strengthens my belief in my own good `
` opinion, perhaps because the good opinion of others, even in `
` cases where I do not share it, is useful to me, or gives promise `
` of usefulness:--all this, however, is not vanity." The man of `
` noble character must first bring it home forcibly to his mind, `
` especially with the aid of history, that, from time immemorial, `
` in all social strata in any way dependent, the ordinary man WAS `
` only that which he PASSED FOR:--not being at all accustomed to `
` fix values, he did not assign even to himself any other value `
` than that which his master assigned to him (it is the peculiar `
` RIGHT OF MASTERS to create values). It may be looked upon as the `
` result of an extraordinary atavism, that the ordinary man, even `
` at present, is still always WAITING for an opinion about himself, `
` and then instinctively submitting himself to it; yet by no means `
` only to a "good" opinion, but also to a bad and unjust one `
` (think, for instance, of the greater part of the self- `
` appreciations and self-depreciations which believing women learn `
` from their confessors, and which in general the believing `
` Christian learns from his Church). In fact, conformably to the `
` slow rise of the democratic social order (and its cause, the `
` blending of the blood of masters and slaves), the originally `
` noble and rare impulse of the masters to assign a value to `
` themselves and to "think well" of themselves, will now be more `
` and more encouraged and extended; but it has at all times an `
` older, ampler, and more radically ingrained propensity opposed to `
` it--and in the phenomenon of "vanity" this older propensity `
` overmasters the younger. The vain person rejoices over EVERY good `
` opinion which he hears about himself (quite apart from the point `
` of view of its usefulness, and equally regardless of its truth or `
` falsehood), just as he suffers from every bad opinion: for he `
` subjects himself to both, he feels himself subjected to both, by `
` that oldest instinct of subjection which breaks forth in him.--It `
` is "the slave" in the vain man's blood, the remains of the `
` slave's craftiness--and how much of the "slave" is still left in `
` woman, for instance!--which seeks to SEDUCE to good opinions of `
` itself; it is the slave, too, who immediately afterwards falls `
` prostrate himself before these opinions, as though he had not `
` called them forth.--And to repeat it again: vanity is an atavism. `
` `
` 262. A SPECIES originates, and a type becomes established and `
` strong in the long struggle with essentially constant `
` UNFAVOURABLE conditions. On the other hand, it is known by the `
` experience of breeders that species which receive super-abundant `
` nourishment, and in general a surplus of protection and care, `
` immediately tend in the most marked way to develop variations, `
` and are fertile in prodigies and monstrosities (also in monstrous `
` vices). Now look at an aristocratic commonwealth, say an ancient `
` Greek polis, or Venice, as a voluntary or involuntary contrivance `
` for the purpose of REARING human beings; there are there men `
` beside one another, thrown upon their own resources, who want to `
` make their species prevail, chiefly because they MUST prevail, or `
` else run the terrible danger of being exterminated. The favour, `
` the super-abundance, the protection are there lacking under which `
`