In the Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals (hereafter, Groundwork), Kant differentiates between maxims that are determined by one’s inclinations and those that are grounded in practical reason. He writes that, “[t]hus common human reason is impelled to leave its sphere… on practical grounds… in order to receive there intelligence and distinct instruction regarding the source of this principle and its correct determination in contrast with maxims based on need and inclination” (Groundwork, 39). It is clear, then, from this passage, that inclinations can never be the ground of the principle of duty—any action that is carried in accordance with one’s inclinations is morally worthless. It could be that giving into a certain inclination is in an individual’s best interest. However, even if the action that one carries out as a result of one’s acquiescence were praiseworthy, it cannot be said to have any moral worth. Kant gives the example of the inclination of self-preservation. Every human being is, unquestionably, inclined to preserve his life. But, Kant argues, even this universal inclination is still devoid of “moral worth” and is “on the same footing as other inclinations” if the action taken to preserve one’s life is not from duty (Groundwork, 25). Conversely, take the example of a person who experiences the gravest suffering such that it “extinguishes all compassion for the fate of others”, and yet, in spite of this suffering he is able to “benefit others in need” (Groundwork, 25). In such a case, it can be said of this person that they have acted from duty, that is, from an a priori practical principle, and not simply in accordance with their inclination (even if this inclination seemingly conforms with duty). From the Groundwork, one gets the sense that, for Kant, inclinations are anathema; an abhorrent aspect of our empirical selves and thus worthy of the most serious condemnation.

Indeed, Kant goes so far as to argue that an inclination is that which opposes, or, at the very least, cannot be considered within the set of things that grant humanity its “absolute worth” (Groundwork, 85). Kant argues that every human being possesses an “absolute worth” and must accordingly be treated “as an end in itself” (Groundwork, 85). Both inclinations themselves and their objects are excluded from this ethical determination. Consequently, Kant writes that “to be…free from them must… be the universal wish of every rational being (Groundwork, 85). It is in a later text— Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason (hereafter, Religion) — that Kant’s perspective on inclinations and their role in leading an ethical life undergoes a radical change. He writes, concerning the ground of the evil of philosophical chiliasm, that it “cannot be placed, as is commonly done, in the sensuous nature of the human being, and in the natural inclinations originating from it… considered in themselves natural inclinations are good, i.e. not reprehensible, and to want to extirpate them would not only be futile but harmful and blameworthy as well” (Religion, 81-102). Does Kant not thereby contradict his earlier comments on the nature of inclinations? I would like to suggest in this essay that this “contradiction” is the result of a significant theoretical development that Kant makes in the Religion: the doctrine of radical evil. That is, there is a shift in his thinking concerning theodicy. I will also attempt to situate this shift in the broader context of Kant’s penchant to secularize various theological precepts. Lastly, I will show the implications of this theoretical development for Kant’s thinking about the formation of an ethical community.

There is no doubt that both the negative assessment of inclinations in the Groundwork and their more sanguine appraisal in the Religion have significant theodical implications. For in both cases, the question of God’s relationship to the manifest evil in the world necessarily arises. In Kant’s first formulation, one’s ability to act morally, that is, according to practical reason, is hindered by one’s inclinations. It is his ability to act according to the moral law that distinguishes man; he is, then, essentially predisposed to goodness: he is a being “that has reason and a will” (Groundwork, 19). That man is endowed with a practical faculty whose function is to “produce a will that is good”, means that any evil that man commits cannot be attributed to his practical faculty (Groundwork, 21). Put in theological terms, God, “as the highest good”, has created man as predisposed to good rather than evil (Groundwork, 47). What, then, is the source of evil if it does not naturally inhere in man, i.e., he does not have an “implanted natural instinct” to evil (Groundwork, 21)? Kant argues that it is by neglecting, rather than cultivating his natural disposition that man is led astray. That is, in the Groundwork, Kant does not think that man is endowed with a secondary predisposition, as it were, that opposes his predisposition to good. Inclinations are immanent to our natural predisposition; they are a product of our constitutive limitedness. Kant writes that “the cultivation of reason… in many ways limits… the attainment… of happiness” (Groundwork, 21). This indicates that one must perfect or cultivate one’s reason, or predisposition to good; it is the failure to do so that allows one to become overcome with a profusion of inclinations.

However, there is a significant problem with this formulation, one which Kant identifies in “On the Miscarriage of all Philosophical Trials at Theodicy (hereafter, “Miscarriage”): “[since] no guilt can be ascribed to God…the ground of this ill… must inevitably be sought in the essence of things, specifically in the necessary limitations of humanity as a finite nature; hence the latter can also not be held responsible for it” (Miscarriage, 27). Essentially, this first formulation leads to an insurmountable conceptual impasse— if evil cannot be ascribed to God or our inclinations (to put the blame on our inclinations actually absolves us of our wrong-doings), then what is the origin of evil? It is in the Religion that Kant gives his answer to this question. He does so by positing the existence of a predisposition to evil in human beings. That man has this propensity to evil does not mean that now the blame can be placed on God; to do so would be to prematurely give up on this subtle re-formulation of Kant’s theodicy. That is, one cannot understand this propensity to evil as one that was placed in man by God. It is brought about entirely by man himself. One should not therefore understand by the term propensity or predisposition that a “natural impulse” to evil exists within man (Religion, 70). Evil, rather, has its source in the radical freedom that constitutes man’s being in the world. If one were to “naturalize” this freedom then “the entire exercise of freedom could be traced back to a determination through natural causes— and this would contradict freedom” (Religion, 71). As Kant goes on to write, when one speaks of the propensity to evil or good— that the human being is “by nature good… or… evil” — what is meant is that he himself is the “first ground” of his actions (Religion, 71). It is thus only with this “doctrine of evil” that man himself is held entirely accountable for his actions, and consequently, evil. Whereas in the earlier formulation man was characterized as essentially limited, he is now made to stand before the infinite abyss of freedom. There is another sense in which the “innateness” of evil ought to be qualified. That evil is innate does not mean that every human being is unreservedly evil but that any case or instance in which an individual acts immorally can be attributed to this propensity. As Kant writes, “we may presuppose evil as subjectively necessary in every human being, even the best” — the “supreme subjective ground” of evil is rooted in humanity itself (Religion, 80). To attribute it to this propensity however is not the same as attributing it to inclinations because the former acknowledges the individual as cause but the latter does not.

There is yet another reason for Kant’s re-formulation in the Religion. Kant writes, “[h]owever those valiant men [the Stoics] mistook their enemy, who is not to be sought in the natural inclinations… We have to wrestle not against flesh and blood… but against principalities and powers, against evil spirits” (Religion, 103). At first glance, this appears to be an entirely uncharacteristic argument from Kant; it is as though he is appealing to the suprasensible to ground his argument. However, this is not the case. Kant makes this argument only to privilege practical reason over theoretical reason when it comes to assessing the origins of evil. If evil is innate then it cannot be subject to an empirical investigation. Kant’s argument, then, does not seek to “extend our cognition beyond the world” (Religion, 103). The concept of evil here has a similar status to the concepts of God, the soul, or the afterlife in the sense that they are made available only for practical use. Kant’s invocation of concepts that are usually associated with theology is an attempt to establish “over against biblical theology… a philosophical theology” (Religion, 61). Kant is not a biblical exegete but nor does he straightforwardly reject these categories. This also applies to his views of theodicy: the theodicy he elaborates cannot be interpreted as a simple continuation of orthodox, or doctrinal theodicies, but is rather what Kant calls an authentic theodicy (a distinction that he makes in the “Miscarriage”, but that is further developed in Religion). Significantly, Kant argues that this authentic theodicy, far from being his own invention, can be gleaned from Scripture itself, as is seen in his reading of the Book of Job. This is similar to his argument in Religion that every religion contains a “moral doctrine intelligible to all human beings”; indeed the moral religion predates all faiths, lying “hidden in human reason” (Religion, 143). A scriptural scholar is concerned more so with exegesis, and thus emphasizes the doctrinal aspects of Scripture; he is the representative of ecclesiastical faith. The universal moral religion that Kant speaks of, however, has as its expositor none other than the “religion of reason” (Religion, 145).

It is at this point that Kant begins discussion of the conditions necessary for the “church universal” that supersedes ecclesiastical faith. It is important to note that the concept of a universal church, the veritable Kingdom of God, is itself a notable theoretical development that can only be understood in the light of the transition from the theodicy that Kant articulates in the Groundwork to the one found in Religion. As Matthew Rukgaber argues in “The Implied Theodicy of Kant’s Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason”, “[p]rior to the solution given in [Religion], Kant’s response to evil was essentially Leibniz’s Fatum Christianum (Christian Fatalism) … [that] we should be content with providence and follow the moral law” (Rukgaber, 215). This is a point of view that is advanced even in the “Miscarriage” through its discussion of the Book of Job: one ought to resign oneself to the way things are and can only hope that God, in His wisdom, will improve things. The “highest good”, Kant argues prior to the publication of Religion, cannot be reached in this life (Rukgaber, 215). However, Religion is a major departure from this position since it argues that this highest good can materialize in our worldly existence. This can only be realized within an ethical community wherein all of its inhabitants, as Kant writes in a dense footnote, “make[s] the highest possible good in the world his own final end (Religion, 59). It is in the Kingdom of God that all persons, of their own volition, adhere to the “pure reason in the law”, even if in doing so, they do not attain happiness or the promise of a better life in the hereafter (Religion, 60). The ethical community does not only help cultivate this moral nature but also symbolizes it. Kant writes that the “acceptance of the existence of this lawgiver means more than the mere possibility of this object… a proposition that exceeds the concept of the duties of this world” (Religion, 59). That there is an excess here requires an ethical community, since the moral law is generally associated with the individual. It is only within such a community, then, that moral progress is possible. At the same time, however, this excess precludes finality; one can say only of this moral progress that it is to carry on indefinitely, that it is a “never fully attainable ideal” (Religion, 135). Yet, Kant prohibits the “people of God” to remain idle in the face of this fact, or to resign themselves to the will of God since it is only Him, and not human beings that can establish the Kingdom (Religion, 135). Herein resides the ethical kernel of Kant’s formulation. Whereas in ecclesiastical terms, the moral father is visible and the one to whom all inhabitants are to wholly submit, for Kant the moral father is invisible— for the people of God to honor him is for them to enter into a “free, universal and enduring union of hearts” (Religion, 136). What is emphasized is not God as such but his practical necessity i.e., His role in facilitating this union. And ultimately it is precisely this affectionate union that is the only adequate response to the presence of evil in the world.

Works Cited

Kant, Immanuel, et al. Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals: A German-English Edition.Cambridge University Press, 2011.

Kant, Immanuel, et al. Religion and Rational Theology. Cambridge University Press, 2006.

Kant, Immanuel, et al. Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason and Other Writings. Cambridge University Press, 2019.

Rukgaber, Matthew. “The Implied Theodicy of Kant’s Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason: Love as a Response to Radical Evil.” International Journal for Philosophy of Religion, vol. 85, no. 2, 2019, pp. 213–33. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/48700497. Accessed 14 Apr. 2023.