Beyond Good and Evil

Nietzsche believes that the advancement of humankind requires an aristocratic, stratified society in which some have the “pathos of distance” to overcome themselves. Unlike some, however, Nietzsche has no illusions about this process: aristocratic societies are created when powerful barbarian races conquer weaker races and install themselves as an elite, noble caste. These warriors are philosophers too because their physical strength draws on “strength of the soul,” the capacity for both destruction and creation. A true aristocracy, Nietzsche contends, is not a function of society but the very meaning of society; the former understanding is what led to the French nobility’s downfall. As higher beings, the noble must have complete faith that their existence justifies the sacrifice of others. When they lose this faith, corruption and the loss of their nobility sets in.

The principle of equality cannot be a principle of society, Nietzsche finds, however appropriate it may be among individuals of the same status. On such a wide scale, equality is a denial of life, which deep down is the will to power in all its forms. Exploitation, therefore, is a category of life, not a social evil to be abolished. Seen from this perspective, Nietzsche finds in the diversity of moralities two basic types: the master morality and the slave morality. These moralities often appear together, either in hybrid forms or simultaneously within the same culture or person. The master morality centers on an order of rank in which “good” and “noble” are synonymous and all else is “contemptible.” This morality sees itself as the creator of values. It honors tradition and the past over the future and the ideals of progress.

The slave morality, on the other hand, derives from the suffering and oppression of those who believe in it. It is skeptical, suspicious, and pessimistic, and prides itself on virtues “of utility” such as patience, friendliness, and hard work. Nietzsche locates the two moralities in relation to good and evil: to the master morality, those who hold power and inspire fear are good, while to the slave morality, it is precisely the powerful who are evil. To Nietzsche, the good person of the slave morality is necessarily a safe, unthreatening, and even stupid individual. The desire for freedom, too, is characteristic of the slave morality, while the master morality practices reverence and devotion.

The noble individual, utterly sure of their own worth, cannot be vain and does not understand the vanity of others. Concern for the opinions of others, rather, is characteristic of the slave morality, as slaves historically could not create values for themselves but had values attached to them by their masters. Nietzsche finds this “atavism” of vanity to appear in both Christianity and the behavior of women, among other places. Nietzsche advocates a historical theory of peoples as “species,” cultivating and maintaining the virtues that make them hard and strong as they struggle against unfavorable conditions. When these conditions disappear, however, their safety and security enables a degeneration into “monstrosities.” In these moments, however, the breakdown of past moralities enables individuals to break free of them and create new virtues. The growing power of the mediocre, however, is an ominous development which may prevent the birth of new moralities.

The desire for rank is, to Nietzsche, a sign of high rank in the individual who feels it. With this too comes the instinct for reverence; in the Bible Nietzsche finds a rare instance of an appropriate channeling of that instinct in Christianity, as Europeans submitted to an external authority greater than themselves. Indeed, the fact that the Bible is a privileged text that the crowd does not have direct access to makes it that much more meaningful. Nietzsche also believes that the soul carries on the characteristics of its ancestors. Despite one’s deceptions, the origin—and rank—of an individual always comes out in their behavior.

The noble soul, to Nietzsche, is always egoistic. It has no qualms about hardness or cruelty, understanding itself to be the source of justice. When the noble soul is deferential it is only to others of its rank, which it treats the same way it would treat itself. The noble soul looks downwards, understanding itself to be above the crowd. As the noble soul is self-assured, it does not have to seek itself. The modern European, on the other hand, practices a “self-diminution” of the soul. Nietzsche then asks what it means to have experiences in common. Peoples who live in similar conditions develop a shared understanding, which leads them to associate more closely with each other, and in turn become more like each other. This naturally leads to the herd man, and “tremendous counter-forces” are needed to develop humankind in other directions. 

Psychologists, Nietzsche argues, cannot succumb to pity as they attempt to understand other humans. As a higher type of human, the psychologist must be hard to avoid corruption, but Nietzsche finds this almost unavoidable process of corruption to be the rule rather than the exception.  This may be an impossible task, and the psychologist instead develops a pity and contempt for those whom the crowd considers “great men.” Nietzsche compares such individuals to sacrificial animals and argues that it is their work that makes them great rather than the other way around; to him, they are false historical “rules,” and as examples do not explain the nature of greatness in the way that their advocates think they do. Nietzsche disparages the individual characters of great poets, arguing that as men they are not of a higher rank. Then, speaking of both women and Jesus, Nietzsche bemoans the insufficiency of love, which cannot satisfy the demands humans make of it.

True and profound suffering makes one noble and separates one from the crowd, Nietzsche argues. This too leads to a “spiritual haughtiness,” though it is sometimes disguised as cheerfulness or even foolishness. Perhaps, Nietzsche suggests, it is more refined to respect such masks and avoid psychology altogether. He then argues that cleanliness is a great divider of individuals. Saintliness, as the highest form of cleanliness, separates the saint from society; the saint’s pity for society, then, is pity for their human uncleanliness. Nobility, to Nietzsche, also consists of fulfilling one’s duties alone, understanding that they cannot be delegated. The graciousness of nobility requires having reached one’s “height”; until then the noble individual demands solitude and separation from others.

Nietzsche wonders how many higher individuals are waiting for their moment, a moment which never comes in time and thus forecloses their chance at greatness; he suggests that it is not genius that is rare, but the right time for genius that often fails to appear. The lower soul, while often failing to see greatness, is more durable and resistant to the conditions of life than the higher soul. Nietzsche argues that humans with noble souls often learn what is most important too late, always seek to disguise themselves, and generally feel a sense of profound dislocation and sadness in the modern world. All the same, solitude is a virtue for the noble, as society is inevitably unclean and corrupting.

Great events—and thoughts—are experienced not in the moment but by their aftereffects, Nietzsche argues, comparing them to the light of distant stars. Asking how one can recognize the noble in the modern world without being deceived by misinterpretation, Nietzsche claims that it is the noble soul’s faith in and reverence for itself that distinguishes it. Nietzsche then returns to the ways in which individuals disguise their spirit and even their philosophy; he suggests that every book one writes conceals truer, deeper thoughts, and indeed every philosophy is a mask that hides another philosophy beneath it. To Nietzsche truly profound thinkers prefer to be misunderstood than understood, as they do not wish their followers to suffer like they have. 

Nietzsche suggests that morality is a way of simplifying the complexities of the soul, involving such deception that it should be considered an art in its own right. The philosopher, he argues, experiences their thoughts as external, and is always escaping and returning to themselves. Pity in a true master, Nietzsche claims, possesses a value that it cannot have when it comes from those who suffer, or when it is preached to society at large. This pity is rather a sensitivity to pain that has become a “cult of suffering.”

Criticizing Hobbes, Nietzsche advocates laughter as a great virtue, citing the mockery of ancient gods as an example. Nietzsche then praises the Greek god Dionysus for his honesty and lack of shame. Dionysus, a lover of humankind, wishes to make humans “stronger, more evil, and profound.” While Nietzsche supports this, he also argues that Dionysus can learn from humankind, and that humans are “more humane.” Nietzsche then speaks directly to his thoughts, expressing surprise at how they grow and wither as he writes them down, losing the sense of novelty and joy they first gave him. No one, he claims, will fully understand them; nobody will see his thoughts in all the “colors” that he imagined them, as they leave him to go out to the world.