Good and Evil as Human Measures

Why good and evil are not cosmic properties but names for what helps or harms our power.

I.

The words "good" and "evil" carry an enormous weight of metaphysical baggage. They imply that the universe has a moral structure, that some things are inherently right and others inherently wrong, that the distinction between good and evil is written into the fabric of reality. Spinoza dismantles this assumption with characteristic precision. Good and evil are not properties of things. They are names we give to what helps or harms our power to act.

This is not relativism. It is perspectivism grounded in ontology. A thing is good, for Spinoza, if it increases our power of acting. A thing is evil if it diminishes it. The measure is us: our nature, our striving, our capacity to persist and flourish. There is no cosmic good or evil, because nature has no purposes, and without purposes there can be no deviations from purpose that would constitute evil.

II.

The immediate objection is that this reduces morality to self-interest. It does, and Spinoza does not apologize for it. But the self-interest he describes is not the narrow, short-sighted selfishness that the word usually connotes. It is the interest of the whole person, understood as a striving being whose flourishing depends on understanding, cooperation, and the cultivation of durable power. What is genuinely in your interest, when you understand yourself adequately, turns out to be remarkably similar to what traditional morality recommends.

You should not lie, not because lying violates a cosmic rule, but because lying weakens your position. It damages trust, requires the maintenance of fictions, and ultimately diminishes your power to act in the social world. You should not steal, not because theft is metaphysically evil, but because the reputation, retaliation, and internal corruption that follow theft reduce your power over time. The good is what works, understood in the long run and the full context.

III.

This framework eliminates a certain kind of moral anxiety. If good and evil are human measures, you do not need to worry about whether your actions please or displease a cosmic judge. The question is not: "Is this action approved by the universe?" The question is: "Does this action increase or diminish my power to act, and the power of those with whom I am connected?"

The question is empirical. It can be investigated. You can observe the effects of your actions, adjust your behavior based on what you learn, and improve your understanding of what genuinely serves your flourishing. This is a more demanding approach to morality than obedience to fixed rules, because it requires ongoing inquiry. But it is also more honest, because it does not pretend that the rules come from somewhere other than human judgment.

IV.

Why, then, do so many moral systems insist that good and evil are cosmic properties? Spinoza's answer is that the belief serves emotional and political purposes. If good and evil are cosmic, then those who define them wield enormous power. They speak for the universe. Their condemnations carry divine authority. Their approvals confer cosmic blessing. The belief in cosmic good and evil is, among other things, a tool of social control.

The belief also serves an emotional purpose. It is comforting to think that the universe is on your side, that your values are not merely yours but are built into the structure of things. Spinoza offers no such comfort. Your values are yours, and their justification is their effect on your power and the power of those you care about. This is less comforting than cosmic validation, but it is also less fragile. A value grounded in your nature cannot be refuted by a change in doctrine. It can only be revised by a better understanding of what actually serves your flourishing.

V.

The practical upshot is a morality without metaphysics: a way of thinking about right and wrong that is grounded in causal understanding rather than divine command or abstract principle. This does not make morality subjective in the sense of arbitrary. Your nature is not arbitrary. It is a specific mode of substance with specific needs, capacities, and vulnerabilities. What serves that nature is a factual question, not a matter of opinion.

Good and evil are human measures. This does not make them less real. It makes them more useful, because they can now be investigated, debated, and refined, rather than merely asserted. The measure is us. Take better measure.