The Considerations on Representative Government was John Stuart Mill's most ambitious political treatise. It is without doubt the fullest statement we have of his mature political thought.1
Representative Government was one of Mill's later works. It was written years after both A System of Logic (1843) and Principles of Political Economy (1848) -- the writings which made Mill a prominent figure in British intellectual life -- had become standard works in the library of every well-read gentleman. Several years after his retirement from service with the East India Company and the death of his wife -- two major events in Mill's life, both occurring in 1858 -- and several years before his election as a member of the House of Commons for Westminster, Mill wrote his treatise. He composed it for the most part in 1860.
This was a year of great controversy in England, generally over political principles and their philosophical foundations, and specifically over parliamentary reform. In America, where democratic principles had been carried to the most advanced point in political experience, the bitter conflict between the States was ready to break out in violent war. In England, where Liberal principles had been vested with the sanctity of law, the dominance of the middle class was in jeopardy. Spokesmen for the new industrial working class, which was rapidly increasing in importance in British life, were demanding a share of political privilege and were getting a hearing from the Tory Democrat, Benjamin Disraeli. The movement into which John Mill had been born -- Utilitarianism -- was, after a short history of glorious accomplishment, disintegrating into squabbling sects. New movements, stimulated by a congenial Darwinian climate, were just getting under way. During this year of intellectual ferment and social change -- and political crisis -- John Stuart Mill, son of a radical reformer but himself a reformed radical, summed up his thoughts about politics in his major treatise.2
In Representative Government we find no really new ideas. This Mill himself concedes in his preface. Mill's friend and first biographer, Alexander Bain, states that even Mill's earliest political essays pointed in the direction of Representative Government.3 This statement perhaps says too much. However, the main themes developed in Representative Government were initially advanced in works written years before. In his review of Tocqueville's two volume Democracy in America (1835, 1840), MiIl set the pattern of his argument, against majority rule. In a pamphlet published in 1859, Thoughts on Parliamentary Reform, he stated his distinctive views about minority representation, plural voting, and the secret ballot. Neither the principle of representation nor Mill's use of it in his theory was novel. The concept of representation which Mill elaborated in Representative Government bears a close family resemblance to the doctrine his father advanced in the famous Essay on Government (1820). That essay, the finest statement we have of Benthamite political teachings, was (by John Stuart's own testimony) regarded by the "Philosophical Radicals" as "a masterpiece of political wisdom."
For the most part, then, Representative Government is a systematic summation of political views already expressed by Mill in one way or another. This summation takes the form of an extended discussion, divided into eighteen chapters, of a series of cognate political questions. Mill ostensibly discusses these questions in relation to representative government.
Mill's Representative Government has value today as a political treatise even though parts of it are definitely dated. Many questions which in Mills time were highly controversial no longer agitate British opinion; in the course of almost a century of political change they have, for practical purposes, been satisfactorily settled. But in setting forth his views about those questions, Mill elucidated his distinctive political theory. Mill's beliefs were popular with an impressive body of Victorian opinion. They still find some adherents today.
First let us sketch the main line of argument Mill advances in his treatise, and then proceed to examine the major articles in John Stuart Mill's political creed.
Mill begins his treatise by considering a question suggested by Benthamite teachings: Are forms of government invented by men to suit their desires, or are they products of historical experience? Bentham held that men can deliberately design and adopt political institutions as they choose. Mill concedes that in this view there is some truth, but also, he says, there is some truth in the opposite view. He takes a middle position -- political institutions are the work of men, but they must be adjusted to the capacities of the people who live under them. For a set of institutions to function properly, a people must be ready, willing, and able to work them. Though political institutions reflect the more fundamental conditions in a society, such as property and intelligence, they also reflect "moral influence" -- the condition of opinion and will -- at work in that society. So, Mill concludes, the form of government is a matter of rational choice, though choices must be made within very definite limits. Hence the question of the best form of government, both ideally and relative to a particular people, is a worthwhile one to consider.
Mill next turns to the question of the proper criterion for choosing political institutions. What form of government best promotes the interests of a society? To answer this question it is first necessary, says Mill, to determine the proper end of government, since government is merely a means. To say that "order" or "progress" are the objects of government is no help. The preservation of what exists is an indispensable condition of government but not the sole object. Moreover, the same human qualities -- industry, integrity, justice, and prudence -- contribute to the improvement as well as to the preservation of society; and the qualities which contribute to progress -- mental activity, enterprise, courage, and inventiveness -- are likewise required for order. Similarly with political institutions and policies, such as the police and taxation. However, though progress is not a requisite for order, order is a requisite for progress. Since order is a means, it follows that there is a sense in which "conduciveness to Progress . . . includes the whole excellence of a government."
But, Mill claims, another criterion is needed. It is as important to good government that a society not_deteriorate as that it improve. So Mill poses the question: What are the causes and conditions of good government? The qualities of the citizens, he answers, the virtue and intelligence of the governed, is one element of good government. Hence a pertinent question to answer about political institutions is: To what extent do they foster the moral and intellectual qualities of the governed, individually and collectively? Another important element of good government is the quality of the machinery itself. To what extent do the political institutions utilize the moral and intellectual worth in the community? Mill thus concludes that the two proper criteria for evaluating forms of government are (1) the improvement of the character of the governed, and (2) the utilization of the community's virtue and talent.
Under any form of government, Mill claims, it is possible to utilize virtue and talent. But not so with the improvement of the governed. It is true that good government is relative; political institutions must be adapted to a society's stage of culture. For example, despotic rule might be best for a primitive tribe. At the same time, however, government is a principal means for cultural advancement. Hence the best form of government is always that which tends to advance a people to a higher level of social development. It follows that, to assure good government, political institutions must change as a people's culture advances.
After these preliminaries, Mill proceeds to consider the ideal form of government and the conditions necessary for its existence. Despotic rule, he says, may be a model of efficiency, and it may be temporarily necessary. But as a permanent arrangement despotism is unacceptable. Its main defect is the failure to exercise and improve the moral and intellectual faculties of the governed. The greatest benefits to a people are provided by a form of government where sovereignty is located in the entire community and every citizen performs a public function. This conclusion rests on two principles: first, that a person's interests are secure to the extent that he can actively promote them, and second, that the general interest of a community is best promoted by the maximum activity of individual members. The truth of the first principle is obvious. In regard to the second, active characters are intrinsically better than passive characters, since active characters are required for the cultivation of the three varieties of mental excellence -- intellectual, practical, and moral. Passive characters are encouraged by government by one or a few, while government by the many encourages active characters. Thus popular government is superior to despotic rule in both advancing the welfare of a community and improving the characters of its citizens. Because of these advantages, popular participation in government should be as great as a community's stage of cultural development allows. The ultimate aim would be participation by all in the sovereign power. But as a practical matter, self-government is an impossible goal. Hence the ideally best form is representative government.
What are the social conditions necessary for representative government? Representative government cannot permanently exist unless the three afore-mentioned conditions -- that the people are ready, willing, and able to participate in public affairs -- are fulfilled. At the earliest stage of a community's development, when the people have yet to learn the first lesson of civilization -- obedience -- royal rule is most suitable. Other shortcomings in a people can disqualify them for representative government, though rule by one or a few might not be any improvement over popular rule. In some cases, where the people lack capacity and a really superior class exists, some form of aristocratic rule may be the best possible. The critical test of a people's fitness for popular rule is the relative strength of two conflicting desires which varies among different peoples -- the desire to exercise power over others, and the desire not to have power exercised over themselves. A people in whom the second desire is predominant is fit for representative government.
After considering the best form of government and the conditions necessary for its existence, Mill turns to questions about the functioning of representative government. Representative government, he says, is where the whole people exercise the sovereign power through their elected deputies. What are the proper functions of a representative assembly? It is important to distinguish, says Mill, between actually performing the business of government and controlling the performance. A representative assembly should do only that which it can best perform and control the rest. An assembly can deliberate better than an individual, but it cannot act nearly as well Hence a representative assembly should not try to administer governmental affairs directly. Administration is a hjghly skilled business which depends on special information and rules of conduct. A representative assembly is not fit even to determine the special qualifications of administrators. What it can do is to select the ministers by passmg on nominees (as m the British cabinet system). Further, a representative assembly is not competent to enact laws. Legislation, too, is a "work of skilled labor and special study and experience" which calls for professional talent. The representative assembly should determine who should draft the laws. The technical job of drafting legislation would be best done, Mill contends, by a nonpolitiral legislative commission composed of experts. The representative assembly should merely pass on the proposals submitted, by approving, rejecting, or referring them back to the commission. In general, then, the proper function of a representative assembly is to "watch and control" the conduct of governmental affairs entrusted to "a specially trained and experienced Few." Another sort of function a representative assembly can perform is to serve as "an arena of public opinion" where conflicting views can be expressed and explored in public debate.
What are the infirmities and dangers to which representative government is liable? In any form of government, the defects may be negative or positive. A negative defect is insufficient power in the offices of government to do the job of governing. In a representative system, the danger is that the power to govern will not be properly concentrated because of legislative interference in the work of administration. Another negative defect is insufficient exercise of the citizens' capabilities; this results when public functions are not widely enough diffused among the people. Of the positive defects, one is the low level of competence in the "controlling body"; representative government is specially liable to this defect. Bureaucratic rule, though it fails to exercise the citizens' capabilities, tends to be efficient because technical skill and ability are utilized. The opposite is true with representative government; there the tendency is toward inefficiency because the need for professional talent is not fully appreciated. The danger is that the citizens and their representatives attempt more than they are competent to do. Another positive defect is the tendency of special interests to influence the representative assembly at the expense of the general interest. In a monarchy or an aristocracy, a common weakness is the continuing conflict between the interests of the rulers and those of the community. The same weakness exists in popular government, where the tendency is for the special interest of a numerical majority to displace the interest of all. The result is class legislation. We must recognize that in practice rulers often neglect their real interest in the pursuit of their apparent interest. It is true that persons differ in character, but power encourages everyone to prefer his selfish and immediate interest to his indirect and remote interest. Since governments must be made for men as they are or can soon become, how can this evil tendency be prevented in a representative government? The two great sets of interests in modern society are those of capital and labor. These two classes should be equally balanced in the government so neither can dominate the other. Since a minority of each class tends to pursue the general interest, the aim should be to balance the conflicting interests in such a way that each part of one class is dependent on a part of the other class to obtain a majority.
Mill next considers the question of how the dangers inherent in representative government -- incompetence and class legislation -- can be minimized without impairing the benefits of popular government. The government of all by a majority, exclusively represented, is, says Mill, a false idea of democracy. "False democracy" is actually a government of privilege, for minorities are in effect disfranchised. A majority should be able to outvote a minority in a representative assembly, but minorities should have their representatives too. In a "true democracy" minorities would be adequately represented in the assembly. Hence the true idea of democracy is a government of all by all, equally represented. The best way to assure adequate representation of minorities is the scheme proposed by Thomas Hare for parliamentary elections. By Hare's plan for proportional representation:
Mill then considers whether the franchise should be restricted. The real issue in representative government, says Mill, is how to prevent the abuse of power by a numerical majority. Restricting the suffrage is not a satisfactory solution to this problem. Moreover, a restricted franchise does some harm. Voting has educational value for the citizen. Also, a person who is denied the vote is apt to become malcontent. To deny a person the vote unless the purpose is to prevent an evil is unjust. Though the franchise should be extended as much as possible, certain qualifications for voting are imperative. A voter should be able to read, write, and "calculate," and should be a payer of direct taxes. A person who is on parish relief, hence financially dependent on the community, should be disqualified from voting.
But even when only really qualified persons have the vote, Mill says, the danger of ignorant, class legislation remains. The solution to this problem is to give persons whose opinions are entitled to greater weight two or more votes -- "plural voting." Though everyone should have a voice, it should not be an equal voice. Political equality as practiced in America is a false creed, detrimental to moral and intellectual excellence since those who have strength can rely on will rather than reason. Voting should be weighted in favor of knowledge and intelligence. The basis for weighting should be, not property, but "mental superiority." How can such superiority be ascertained, as a practical matter? Occupation is an adequate test; for example, a banker is likely to be more intelligent than a shopkeeper, an employer more intelligent than an employee. Educational attainment is another test. Plural voting should be limited only so that no single class would be able to outvote the rest of the community. Mill adds that sex should not be a disqualification for voting.
Mill next discusses the merits of direct and indirect elections. Indirect elections, where voters choose electors who in turn select the representatives, have been advocated as a means to curb the popular influence. This view is plausible, but the practice lessens the benefits of popular government since public spirit and political intelligence are thereby cultivated less than with direct election. Indirect election may also, as in the case of the American presidency, encourage partisanship. The best form of election in America is the system of indirect election of United States senators.4 But this system requires a federal constitution with the electors (state legislators) performing other public functions as well. The conclusion: the advantages of indirect election can actually be obtained by direct election, and indirect election has certain disadvantages. So although indirect election might have a temporary use, it is undesirable as a permanent arrangement.
Should voting be in public, or by secret ballot? The secret ballot, Mill says, is undesirable; it encourages the pursuit of selfish interests. The vote is a public trust, and the voter's duty is to give his best opinion of the public good. This duty should be performed in the public eye and subject to criticism, because a person's need to justify his act conduces to more responsible conduct. The claim that public voting allows the voter to be subjected to sinister influences is unfounded. The secret ballot is no longer necessary; the power of the few over the many is so declining in western Europe that there is now no need to fear class dictation. At the same time, persons who may not be fit to be electors (such as members of the working class) may still be fit to exert influence on electors; this they can do best if_voting is public.
Mill then turns to some related issues of parliamentary reform. He argues that campaign expenditures of candidates should be strictly limited so voters are not influenced by extraneous considerations in casting their ballots. Also, that members of Parliament should not be paid because a salaried post would attract self-seeking, vulgar persons and demagogues; a qualified person without independent income should be subsidized by the subscription of his affluent constituents.
How long should the term of a representative be? It should not be so long that he forgets his reponsibility to the public good, or so short that he is unable to pursue a course of action. Depending on whether the prevailing tendency is toward aristocratic or democratic domination, the term should be from three to five years. But even the seven-year term, though rather long, is not so long as to warrant much effort to reduce it. In regard to the question of whether representatives should be eligible for re-election, Mill contends that there are no advantages in banning re-election and some serious disadvantages.
Should a representative be bound by instructions from his constituents? No. A representative should be responsible to the voters, but he is naturally wiser than they. Superior minds, which conclude differently from ordinary minds, should not be restrained by pledges sought by ordinary minds. The voters should respect differences from their opinions and should judge their representative's ability by such signs as proven public service, leadership, and experience. With untried men whose characters are as yet unknown, it is necessary to rely on the judgments of those who know them best. Generally, then, a representative should not make pledges to his constituents; he should insist on following his better judgment of the public good. It is even more important in a "false democracy" than in a "true democracy" that a representative be a free agent.
The institution of the second chamber as a means of curbing the popular influence is, says Mill, of secondary importance. If there are two chambers, they can be similar or dissimilar in composition. If the upper chamber is similar to the popular house, no special advantage is achieved. And with two houses there is always the disadvantage of inconvenient delay in the proceedings. In a representative government a second chamber would be useful only if it tended to oppose the class interests of the majority. The strongest argument in favor of a second chamber is that, generally, when power is diffused despotism is discouraged and compromise is encouraged; this of course is desirable. If the second chamber is intended to restrain the popular house, it must be composed differently. But its effectiveness would depend on its public support; the House of Lords restrains the Commons only to the extent that British society is aristocratic in character. It is true that in every well-ordered polity there should be a center of resistance to the predominant power -- in a representative government, to the democratic assembly. But the best way to curb the popular influence is to diffuse power, not between two chambers, but within the democratic assembly itself through proportional representation and plural voting. The finest example of a second chamber is the Roman Senate, which was composed of elder statesmen of proven merit and virtue. In England, the best form of second chamber would be an assembly of life peers selected on the basis of merit from among the most distinguished figures in British public life.
Next Mill turns to the question of the executive in a representative government. As a general rule, says Mill, the authority and responsibility to act should not be divided; instead, they should be concentrated and clearly fixed in one individual. Plural bodies are not suited for administrative work, though an administrator should use a "council" of competent professionals as advisors. No executive official should be elected by the people or their representatives. Administering government business is skilled employment for which special qualifications are required. Executive officials should be appointed by their administrative superiors, who should also have the power to remove them. The "chief executive" should be selected by the legislature. Popular election of the chief executive means that eminent men will not be selected and that the chief executive must cater to the public for approval. The principle of dissolution of the House of Commons is sound because it forestalls a serious deadlock between the executive and the legislature. The judiciary above all must be completely free, from popular influence. The people are not competent to assess judicial qualifications; voters are partial, while impartiality is the essential quality of justice. The jury is one of the very few cases, however, where it is better for the people to act directly rather than through their representatives; it is "almost the only case in which the errors that a person exercising authority may commit can be better borne than the consequences of making him responsible for them." Of course professional civil servants should be completely divorced from politics. Appointments should be made on a merit basis, by competitive examinations. Such recruitment has an added advantage of exerting a salutary influence on the educational system. Promotion generally should depend on seniority, but in special circumstances on record of performance.
Mill moves next to some questions of local government. Central governments, he says, try to do too much; local representative bodies should handle strictly local affairs. Moreover, the educational value of participation in local government for the citizens is so great that local authority should be as extensive as possible. How should local representative bodies be composed? Generally on the same principles as for the national legislature, except that in local affairs property should be allowed a larger voice. Every municipality should have one central council. Most difficulties in local government result from the poor caliber of the persons who participate; one council would attract into public service the highest quality of mind available in the community. The same principles apply to the administration of local governmental affairs as to the national. Should a local government have full authority to perform its functions or should its activities be supervised by central authorities? Local officials are inferior in ability to national officials, and local opinion, both public and press, is likewise inferior. On the other hand, interest in a community and the opportunity to observe the conduct of public business is greater in a locality. Knowledge is centralized, though power is localized. Generally, the central authority should restrict its function to that of instructing in principles, which should then be applied by the local officials. However, the central authority should interfere in local affairs if a majority attempts to oppress a minority.
Then Mill considers the relation between "nationality" and representative government. Nationality, he says, exists when a people share common sympathies not shared with other people. Nationality is based more on common experiences than on a common race, language, or religion. As a general principle, the boundaries of a government should coincide with those of nationality, though geography sometimes hinders the application of this principle. In a country of different nationalities, where antipathies are strong, joint resistance to government ineffective, and sympathy between the army and the public lacking, popular government is not possible. The mixing of nationalities in one country, where the inferior are improved by the influence of a superior nationality, is beneficial, though sometimes this intermingling is not practical.
Mill next discusses the subject of "federalism." In a country where national union is not possible, a federal system, wherein power is divided between a central and state governments, is sometimes desirable. For a stable federation, several conditions must be fulfilled. The population of the country must have mutual sympathies, the separate states must not be so strong that they can rely on their own strength in dealing with foreign countries, and the several states must be roughly equal -- no one or a few can be predominant within the federation. The two modes of federal government are (1) where the central government acts on the component states only, and (2) where it acts directly on the citizens. The second is the only satisfactory principle, since otherwise local majorities can with impunity act contrary to the central government. In a federal system a supreme court is the best means to determine questions of state-federal jurisdictions. A federation is beneficial to the extent that the practice of co-operation is extended. But if conditions permit, union is much more desirable than federation.
In the final chapter Mill discusses the government of dependencies by a "free state." Dependencies, he says, are of two types: one, where the peoples are backward and inferior; the other where they are equal in advancement to the governing state. With the second type of dependency, the only wise policy is that of self-determination within the empire. Imperial federation is not practical, since in an empire the requisite conditions for federation are lacking. Yet an empire has value in that international peace and co-operation are encouraged. With a backward people, the dependency is in a state of tutelage. What is the best mode of governing such peoples? The dangers are twofold: that the natives will be forced to conform to the customs and practices of the ruling state, and that the special interests of colonists from the mother country will be favored over the interests of the native peoples. The general principle is that a free state should not directly rule backward peoples (like the East Indians); instead, it should provide able rulers through an intermediate governing body (like the East India Company). This intermediate body should have a vested interest in good government of the dependency, and as little interest as possible in poor government. Experience shows that by keeping the government of dependencies out of domestic politics and in the hands of professional, career administrators, the most effective rule of backward peoples is possible. The only colonial official who should be selected from outside the career service is a governor-general.
Thus ends Mill's argument in Representative Government.
What exactly is John Stuart Mill trying to accomplish in this treatise? Aside from the final chapter appended to the rest of the work where he is obviously attempting to vindicate his former employer, the East India Company, Mill is occupied not so much with considerations on representative government as with criticisms of self-government. The theme he elaborates throughout his argument is that the common people are not competent to govern themselves; they should be ruled by "a specially trained and experienced Few." Though he starts out by praising the virtues of popular government, he ends by repudiating the essential principles of democratic rule. In this treatise Mill is evidently trying to discredit democracy as a form of government.
Why does Mill, in his principal treatise on politics, set this task for himself? When Mill was thirty years of age, he read the first volume of Alexis de Tocqueville's remarkable work, Democracy in America, and wrote a lengthy, laudatory review of it. Five years later, when the second volume was published, Mill wrote another review, again praising Tocqueville's book. In this review Mill termed Democracy in America "the first philosophical book ever written on Democracy, as it manifests itself in modern society." 5 This book, Mill concedes in his Autobiography, exerted a profound influence on his thinking about politics.
By "democracy" Tocqueville, and Mill, meant self-government, direct participation by the governed in the exercise of governmental authority. Democratic rule depended on two principles widely accepted in America: that in exercising authority each member of a community should count for one and no more than one, and that the exercise of authority over a community should be determined by the vote of a majority. Such a mode of government, founded on these principles of political equality, and majority rule, was, Mill realized, a novel phenomenon in political experience. For many centuries a few had ruled the many; now in the American experiment the many were governing themselves, without benefit of an elite. Mill believed, as did Tocqueville, that as time passed the principles of democracy practiced in America would gain wider favor and more adherents in Europe. Democracy, for good or ill, was "on the march." In fact, it was the agitation for democratic reforms in Britain which largely inspired Mill to write Representative Government.
To his study of Democracy in America Mill attributed his "growing reservations" about the desirability of popular government. The book gave him, he said, a keener awareness of the "dangers" of democratic rule. Over the years, in company with Harriet Taylor, Mill's reservations continued to grow. It was Harriet's influence, Mill records, which first led him to doubt the desirability of "pure democracy"; Tocqueville's book merely confirmed their suspicions. By the time Mill began writing his major political treatise, he had abandoned the principles of democratic rule.6
What Tocqueville portrayed with accuracy as democracy in America, Mill feared and despised. Mill takes pains to define the form of popular rule practiced in this country as "false democracy." In Representative Government as in his other writings Mill often points to American practice to illustrate a political principle to which he was opposed. It is true that Mill did accept, after a fashion and within limits, the principle of popular sovereignty -- that the authority binding on the members of a community should be located in the governed. Historical circumstances allowed him no feasible alternative. With the religious convictions of one born into the British Liberal tradition, he could not accept a doctrine of divine rights, either of one or a few, to rule. If authority has no supernatural origins, it must be located, naturally somehow, among men. For several centuries British Liberals had contended that authority should be located in the governed. Mill concurred. But he refused to accept the democratic corollaries of popular sovereignty exemplified in American experience -- political equality and majority rule.
In 1840 Mill wrote: "Now, as ever, the great problem in government is to prevent the strongest from becoming the only power."7 In 1860 this problem, as Mill posed it in his treatise, took this form: In view of the trend toward democracy, how can rule by the many be restrained so that rule by a qualified few can be preserved? The people are not competent to govern themselves, yet they insist on playing a role in government. This problem Mill was anxious to solve for his time so that what had happened in America would not be repeated in Britain. In his treatise he stresses the "defects," "infirmities," "inadequacies," "dangers" of democratic rule revealed by the American experience. Representative Government is mainly an appeal to British Liberals to stand firm in opposing those democratic reforms which would allow the "untutored masses" to participate in exercising governmental authority.
For this problem of how to stem the democratic tide, Mill proposes a solution which is ingenious, if not original, with him, and which has been a favorite scheme of elitist thinkers for generations. It is a rather intricate formula by which the people are supreme in theory but in practice are permitted to play no important role in exercising authority. The formula is evident in Mill's commendation of the theory of democracy. The virtue of popular government, he says, is its educational value; the moral and intellectual capacities of the governed are cultivated by participation in political affairs. But this is a backhanded denunciation of the practice of democracy. The education has value only because the people are not competent to exercise authority. Ruling is a skilled business for which ordinary people lack the requisite qualifications.
The key to Mill's formula for elite rule is the principle of representation. The people should not rule directly; they should rule through their "representatives." This principle is in Mill's theory an essential device for perpetuating elite rule. His formula includes in addition the following principles:
By this formula Mill would take the business of government out of politics. Plato's Republic, it has been said, is not a treatise on politics at all, but rather a scheme for a utopia wherein politics could not exist. The philosopher-kings would be responsible, in all their wisdom, only to themselves. In Representative Government Mill compromises his desires to admit the existence of politics. But then he systematically restricts popular participation in government to a point where "ordinary minds" have no chance to interfere with "superior minds" in the serious business of ruling. "Mere politicians" as well as ordinary citizens Mill denies any significant role in the governing process. The only role he allows any nonprofessional to play is in connection with deciding who should rule. Yet even here, Mill doubts the ability of ordinary voters to select "representatives," and of ordinary representatives to select the professional rulers. Mill insists that exercising authority is a skilled function which only technically trained specialists are competent to perform. Popular participation, beneficial as it may be in theory, is a luxury no well-ordered polity can afford in practice. Hence Mill's intricate formula for "the ideally best form of representative government" -- by which the function of ruling would be a monopoly of an elite of "merit."
Mill's attack on democratic rule and his defense of elite rule go hand in hand. The substance of his argument in Representative Government is that democracy may be desirable in theory but is impossible in practice and hence is not a suitable form of government. Rule by an elite of "merit" is both possible and desirable.
This thesis raises two fundamental political questions: Who should exercise authority? How should it be exercised? Mill's answer to the first question is that authority should be exercised by a "mentally superior" few; to the second, that authority should be exercised according to "true principles." Mill's belief that his answers to these questions are correct was not at all tempered by modesty. He was less sure about how to persuade the multitude of unenlightened disbelievers that his were the really true answers. Most passages in Representative Government Mill devoted to this effort, diligently and doggedly offering argument after argument.
Mill's contention that authority should in practice be exercised by an elite of "merit" appears to depend on a doctrine of cultural evolution according to which a people progresses from one stage of advancement to another. This doctrine supplies Mill with plausible grounds for denying the "lower classes" of his day any opportunity to participate meaningfully in political life. But by stressing the educational value of political participation, Mill certainly is saying that "in theory" popular rule is desirable, and he seems to be leaving the door open for the practice of democracy at some future date when society has progressed to a more advanced point in civilization.
This doctrine of cultural evolution, however, is not what it appears to be. In a naturalistic theory like Mill's, such a doctrine serves the same function that the doctrine of immortality does in the theory of a standpat religionist. Paradise cannot be entered yet, but perhaps it can be later, provided supplicants obtain redemption from their sins. Because salvation is never a sure thing, the endless search for redemption is all-important in this life. But paradise is not for this dreary world we live in, and such a doctrine adds nothing significant to Mill's theory.
Mill's actual case against democratic rule is quite differently founded. The governed would not rule themselves even in the ideally best form of representative government. Why? The answer turns on the second criterion of "good government" Mill stipulates. Certainly it is desirable that government cultivate the worth of the governed. But it is necessary that government call into the public service the finest "virtue and talent" available in the community. Otherwise the government would be inefficient. Relying on this criterion of "efficiency," Mill develops his case against the practice of democracy.
Mill predicates his political theory on some underlying beliefs about the nature of man and the world he lives in. Mill assumes that these beliefs provide firm theoretical grounds for his contention that a "mentally superior" few should exercise authority according to the "true principles" of politics. This assumption no doubt seemed more plausible to a nineteenth-century British rationalist like Mill than it does to a present-day thinker.
Mill believed that men are naturally endowed with a capacity for "reason." By using reason, they can obtain "knowledge" about the world. Men can do this by studying the lessons of "experience." Thus rational men can perceive in experience the "true principles" of nature. But in order for men to obtain knowledge, their natural capacity for reason must be duly cultivated; the mental faculties must be trained and exercised to understand the principles of things. The capacity for reason is not cultivated to the same extent in every individual. Because they differ in training and experience, individuals differ in their ability to obtain knowledge. Mill also believed -- in any elitist theory this is crucial -- that a higher degree of "intellectual and moral excellence" is always found in relatively few individuals. And because the differences among men individually result in differences among them collectively, some classes of individuals are superior to other classes. A select minority is always superior in quality to a great majority.
Related to these beliefs are Mill's views about human conduct. An individual should act to promote his interests in order to obtain what he desires. This he can do only when he acts rationally, guided by experience. Mental ability is thus a requisite for moral conduct. Though individuals should act promote their interests, many actually do not. Ordinary individuals whose mental capacities are insufficiently cultivated cannot understand what their interests are or how to promote them. Out of passion and ignorance, they act contrary to their true interests, pursuing false ones. Hence they are incapable of moral conduct. Since a few "mentally superior" individuals know better than the rest what should and should not be done, individuals are not equal in their competence for moral conduct. Nor, of course, are classes of individuals.
From these beliefs Mill derives his arguments against democratic rule and in favor of elite rule: In every field of human experience there are "true principles" which can be known. In the field of politics there is a body of knowledge composed of the most enlightened doctrines and the principles they justify. These principles are better understood by those who are specially trained and experienced than by others. By use of their practiced reason and acquired knowledge, they can determine the real interests of individuals and classes. The majority of individuals, who are incapable of moral conduct, are of course not qualified to decide how authority should be exercised. Just as lack of ability disqualifies the majority from ruling, exceptional ability entitles a minority to direct political conduct. Hence Mill's conclusion that a "mentally superior" minority should exercise authority according to the true principles of politics.
Apparently Mill was convinced that by these arguments he had successfully rebutted the case for democratic rule. But Mill's claims for elite rule leave more than a few difficulties unresolved. His theory entails many assumptions of value which he is obliged somehow to justify. For Mill does not claim that a superior few in fact exercise authority or that authority is in fact exercised according to true principles. His claims are normative, not empirical: a superior few should exercise authority and it should be exercised according to true principles. It is from Mill's conception -- or lack of conception -- of the role of value in political conduct that most of the unresolved difficulties in his theory result, in one way or another.
Mill is disposed to treat questions of value as if they were questions of fact. He mistakenly assumes that normative principles for guiding political conduct can be derived by an elite from their special knowledge or experience. A moral principle is, for Mill, a rule to be observed in conduct. Actual conduct may not be guided by Mill-type reason and knowledge, but moral conduct can be. By acting in accord with moral principles, an individual can promote his interests. Since an individual should desire to promote his interests, he should act morally. These assumptions of value, not fact, present real difficulties in Mill's theory.
We can perhaps most readily identify the difficulties in Mill's use of the terms "end" and "means" of conduct. Moral conduct, says Mill, results from the use of a desirable means to achieve a desired end. By examining the end sought and the means used to attain it, the morality of conduct can be determined. A desirable means is the best possible way to attain the end sought. This test of means poses some difficulty for Mill's theory, but the significant difficulty centers on his test for the "ends" of conduct.
Mill distinguishes between "instrumental" and "ultimate" ends. An instrumental end is desired not for itself but as a means to another end. Mill concedes that no proof can be offered for accepting an ultimate end; it is simply "given," so to speak. But Mill then argues that, given an end, the proper means can be determined by use of reason and knowledge, and that those competent to judge the desirability of means are qualified to prescribe moral conduct. In so arguing Mill in effect claims that competence to determine the desirability of the means carries with it competence to determine the desirability of the end of conduct. For this claim there is no basis in fact. In practice the value of a means cannot be determined apart from the value of the end in view. Before an individual can act "morally," a choice of an end as well as a means is required. The relation between an end and a means, hence a choice of means, may or may not turn on answers to questions of fact. And by reason and knowledge perhaps the relation between a "lower" and a "higher" end can be determined; the relation may be, as Mill assumes, a question of fact. However, the choice of an end of conduct, no matter its relation to another end, still turns on answers to questions of value. For an act to be moral, the end as well as the means must be judged desirable. Hence Mill's claim -- that a superior few who know which means is best to attain an end are competent to prescribe moral conduct in practice -- does not stand up.
Between what is desired by an individual and what is desirable for an individual there is a difference, obvious even to Mill. One is a question of fact, the other a question of value. Why should an individual act, not the way he desires, but the way Mill believes is desirable? The question suggests the problem of moral sanction. Why should a moral principle be practiced? In a theory of conduct founded on religious tenets, the ultimate sanction for moral principles is usually supernatural in character. In Christian teachings, for example, God punishes sinners: come the day of judgment, the damned enter eternal hell. Any sort of supernatural sanction is out of the question for Mill; the sanction for moral principles in his theory must be natural to this world. What Mill offers is the contention that experience shows conduct contrary to moral principles to have undesirable consequences: it is self-defeating for an individual, and it is detrimental to a society's progress. Supposedly, then, reason and knowledge conduce men to act morally. But this concept of moral sanction is meaningless even in Mill's own terms. He admits that experience shows nothing to ordinary individuals; only a select few ever see the light of true principles. Hence an ordinary individual cannot act morally if he acts in accord with his own desires. But he can act morally if he faithfully accepts as desirable whatever Mill believes is desirable. In Mill's theory, moral conduct for the majority of individuals depends on their unreasoned and uninformed acceptance of Mill's standards of value. A curious theory of morals indeed.
What Mill desires is a question of fact, but what Mill believes is desirable is a question of value. Why should anyone accept Mill's standards of value? Of course he assumed that his value standards were a harvest of reason and knowledge; the principles Mill embraced could be discerned in experience by any intelligent and informed person. So Mill believed, wrongly. Mill's principles are in fact the "discoveries" of such "scientists" as Adam Smith and David Ricardo, Jeremy Bentham and James Mill. The principles were revealed, to be sure, not by true experience but by true prophets -- the preachers of the "most enlightened doctrines" of nineteenth-century British Liberalism.
Some difficulties in Mill's theory which result from his inadequate conception of the role of value in political conduct are evident in the argument he advances against majority rule. Majority rule, Mill contends, means the domination of society by one class. For the general interest to be promoted, authority must be exercised according to the true principles of politics. The special interest of a majority conflicts with the general interest of all. A majority of ordinary individuals would from passion and ignorance, exercise authority for their class benefit at the expense of the rest of the community. A select minority who understand how the interests of individuals and classes can be achieved are best qualified to rule.
The theoretical issue which Mill attempts to settle by this argument is indeed a serious one for any thinker who, like Mill, accepts the principle of popular sovereignty. For him the legitimacy of authority depends on the consent of the governed; without consent, rule rests on force rather than authority. Unless authority is in some sense exercised to advance a good common to the governed, there is no basis for consent. The practical issue is: How can authority be exercised so that the governed will consent to it? The form in which Mill poses the issue is: How can authority be exercised to promote the general interest of all the governed? This is not only a serious issue, but it is as well a difficult one to resolve satisfactorily. Many other political thinkers have tried, without success, to work out a practical resolution. Mill apparently appreciated the seriousness of the issue but not the difficulty in resolving it. His answer does not in practice dispose of the problem of the consent of the governed.
Mill says that a qualified elite can determine better than the governed themselves how authority should be exercised, and it should be exercised not as a majority of the governed desire but as the general interest requires. This claim implies that standards of political value exist external to and independent from the governed; by consulting these objective principles, an elite can determine how authority should be exercised to promote the general interest. That such value standards exist is not evident in practice. It is evident, however, that what Mill regarded as objective principles were in fact the value standards of a minor part of the British community. Lacking objective principles for determining political conduct, the principles observed must be those of the governed. Why should authority be exercised the way a minority believes it should rather than the way a majority desires it? This is not a question of fact. And because Mill argues that an elite must exercise authority contrary to the actual desires of ordinary individuals, he eliminates any practical basis for consent by a majority of the governed.
By the democratic principles Mill attacks, on the other hand, this problem of consent is to a greater extent resolved. If the governed are to determine how authority should be exercised, the principle of majority rule is indispensable. According to this principle, the exercise of authority over the members of a community should be determined by the vote of a majority. The only practical way to find out what people desire is to ask them. Put the question to a vote. Otherwise what they desire is merely a matter for conjecture, not fact. Since the vote of the larger part shall be binding on the entire community, the exercise of authority conforms to a majority's desires. This principle at least assures that the larger part of a community will consent to the exercise of authority. Contrary to Mill's thesis, elite rule may or may not be desirable in theory, but in practice it is not desirable -- for a person who believes in the consent of the governed.
Mill's theory, we find, is less firmly established in political experience than it is rooted in Mill's prejudices. The actual value of his Liberal principles Mill failed to appreciate. Consequently his effort to present a persuasive case for the practice of elite rule was largely unavailing.
John Stuart Mill was pre-eminently the middle-class philosopher of nineteenth-century British Liberalism. His political thought, like the Liberal creed itself, suffers from defects. Some are merely indicative of the time in which Mill lived and wrote: his thought necessarily bears the mark of a pre-Darwinian age. Others are reflective of the man's peculiar character, his odd personality and bent of mind. The most serious defects in Mill's political theory result from the role it was his destiny to play in British thought as the latter-day apologist for middle-class Liberalism.
Mill was not a broad-gauged philosopher who probed the profound problems of the modern era. In considering politics, Mill's frame of reference was almost limited to nineteenth-century British experience.
For a person who maintained that experience is the source of truth, Mill was surprisingly parochial in outlook. He wrote on a vast variety of subjects -- Hungarian refugees in Turkey, sugar plantations in the West Indies, spring flowers in southern Europe, landholding in Australia, and even the new constitution of California. But about such subjects Mill wrote without benefit of firsthand experience. He did have some direct contact with French life, having from his youth spent much time in France. He did have, too, as a consequence of his professional work, some understanding of British India -- the understanding of a career administrator in London who had never set foot on Indian soil. Mill's understanding of American life was superficial as well as secondhand. His writings reveal scant appreciation of American or, for that matter, of any other foreign experience. Mill's political writings are particularly narrow in perspective. In many passages of Representative Government, Mill does not seem to be considering representative government at all but rather to be commenting on the British parliamentary system.
Despite his parochial outlook, Mill was never reticent about expounding political principles. From his limited British experience, he boldly inferred sweeping generalizations about the nature of political life. Some had little correspondence with facts. For example, Mill declares: "Free institutions are next to impossible in a country made up of different nationalities." What about Canada? The United States? Switzerland? Though Mill talks much about experience, he was not, to put it mildly, rigorously empirical in his thinking. Often his political views are so directly observations about British experience that they have no relevance for any other political system. Mill was essentially a commentator on British politics who reacted to the passing events of his time.
And how did he react? Though Mill explored varied regions of intellectual inquiry -- he certainly was a versatile writer -- he produced no coherent system of political thought. In part this can be explained by his peculiar affiliation with Utilitarianism.
John Stuart Mill was born into the Utilitarian movement. His father was the chief prophet of the Benthamite gospel, and the master himself selected young John as a protege. In his youth Mill was a leader of the Benthamite coterie called the "Philosophical Radicals," champions of Utilitarian reform. But following a nervous breakdown and his intimate association with Harriet Taylor, Mill rebelled against the teachings of those who had so meticulously fashioned his mind. He no longer uncritically accepted the doctrines he had inherited from his father, yet he was unable to repudiate them completely. This dilemma in Mill's thinking is evident throughoUt his political writings.
The characteristic format of a discussion of a political question by Mill is as follows. First he declares the Benthamite belief, and then examines the views of Bentham's critics. Next Mill concedes the partial inadequacy of Bentham's teachings and the partial validity of his critic's charges. Mill then adopts a third position, a "higher synthesis," where he neither fully accepts nor rejects the Benthamite beliefs -- or those to the contrary. This is the format. But usually when Mill has concluded a discussion, little remains intact of the beliefs which distinguish a genuine Benthamite.
The remark that John Stuart Mill was a Utilitarian only by accident of birth is, then, essentially correct. Though Mill professed the Utilitarian creed to the end of his days, he did not permit his views to be dictated by Utilitarian principles. For example, Mill insisted on a qualitative test for pleasure; in fact he insisted on qualitative tests for everything, contrary to the egalitarian tendency in Benthamite teachings. However, though abandoning the Benthamite system of beliefs, Mill failed to devise in its stead a coherent system of thought of his own.
Mill's lifelong inability to choose between accepting or rejecting the Utilitarian system does not entirely account for the lack_of coherence in his political thought. In many instances Mill changed his views about political questions as his thinking matured; this is to his credit. But not all contradictions in Mill's views span the space of years. Some are separated by only a few sentences.
An argument Mill advances against majority rule illustrates this. Majority rule is undesirable in practice, Mill says, because a majority would rule for the benefit of the many at the expense of the minority, contrary to the general interest of all. Only a "mentally superior" few who know the interest of all are qualified to rule. This argument can, in Mill's own terms, be turned with equal force against minority rule. For Mill also contends that power over others corrupts those who posses it. A ruler always tends to pursue his self-interest to the neglect of the general interest. It is not that the ruler may not know what the general interest is; the defect is one of will, not reason. The ruler knows what is right yet does wrong. But granted this moral depravity coincident with power as a fact of human nature, it is just as likely that a "mentally superior" elite would rule contrary to the general interest as that a majority would. What Mill's argument amounts to is the claim that any ruler, if he can, will use his power to benefit a part of the community. If this is so, elite rule actually is, on the Utilitarian terms Mill sometimes employs, a less desirable form of rule in practice than democracy. When a majority rules, it is the interest of a few rather than the many which is adversely affected. Of course Mill does not intend this at all. But the contradiction in his argument is indicative of a logical weakness which pervades Mill's political thought.
The distinctive character of Mill's political thought cannot be explained, however, apart from his relation to British Liberalism. Mill was a product, not simply of Great Britain and the nineteenth century, but also of a definite social class. His lot was to serve as an apologist for the interests of the new middle class which had prospered from trade and industry. It was his fate to champion the Liberal cause at a time when the movement, having achieved its reform mission for the middle class, had outlived its historic purpose. Both the strength and the weaknesses of nineteenth-century British Liberalism are reflected in Mill's political thought.
The traditional task of the British Liberal ideologist was to discredit rule by an aristocracy of birth and land. With the rise of industrial capitalism, the new class, drawn from the skilled trades and crafts, neither noble rich nor common poor, acquired great wealth, profiting from the manufacture and sale of commodities. But wealth -- in money, not land -- gave the middle-class merchants and manufacturers no social status or political privilege; such the law of the land guaranteed to be a monopoly of the aristocracy. In its origins Liberalise was understandably a radical reform movement, bent on changes in the status quo. The Liberal demanded an end to government-sponsored privilege for the upper class. He demanded the repeal of legislation which favored a few at the expense of many. The Liberal agitated for reforms by which prosperous merchants and manufacturers could enjoy the status and privilege long the prerogative of the landed nobility. The triumph of the movement was symbolized by the Act of 1832; by that victory the door was opened for the middle class to achieve the social esteem and political influence which accorded with the wealth and talent they exhibited. Middle-class leaders rapidly rose to prominence in British life. By mid-century and the reign of Queen Victoria, the devotees of Liberalism had come to dominate British politics.
But for the middle class, industrial capitalism was a mixed blessing. Along with prosperity for merchants and manufacturers, it brought forth another social class: the wage-earning employees. Displaced from farms and shops, gathered in commercial and manufacturing centers, these industrial workers were, as earlier their employers had been, without status or privilege in British society. And they were as well without wealth or education. As the working class grew in size and strength, their leaders demanded an end to privilege for a middle-class few at the expense of the working-class many. In fact they used the same arguments the Liberal ideologists had a generation before used against the aristocracy. But they did not stop short of the goal in their demand that special privilege be abolished. The working-class ideologists agitated for reforms by which every member of British society would enjoy social and political equality. Their goal was democracy.
The task of the British Liberal ideologist in Mill's day had become, then, an exacting one. In the perspective of history. Liberalism was a half-way house between aristocratic and democratic rule. Passing time and changing circumstances compelled the Liberal propagandist first to discredit rule by an aristocratic elite and then to justify rule by a middle-class elite. The refuge for the Liberal who feared and despised demoracy was a scheme for rule by a few of supposed "virtue and talent." Mill's formula for representative government, we have seen, was such a scheme to perpetuate rule by an elite of "merit." In his devotion to the middle-class cause, Mill was remarkably consistent. Never did he waver in denying a claim to exercise authority from the rich and the well-born, or from the "untutored masses."
Rationalizing the interests of a middle-class minority in his day, without doing violence to fact and logic, called for greater philosophical ingenuity than Mill could muster. Many times in the course of his lifetime Mill argued contrary positions on the same question. At one time he argued that judges should be made responsible to the "people,"8 yet in Representative Government we find him arguing against popular election of judges on the grounds that they should be immune to political influence. At one time Mill argued in favor of the secret ballot,9 yet later we find him contending that the vote should be cast in public because the secret ballot encourages the elector to neglect his public duty. At one time Mill argued in favor of pledging candidates for public office,10 yet later we find him saying that a candidate should make no pledges whatsoever to his constituents. These examples are not of exceptions in Mill's writings. They are indicative of a characteristic in his thought. Many views Mill entertained in his youth he later abandoned when they no longer served middle-class interests; many views he held late in life he had roundly criticized as a young reformer.
Of course to convert a creed of reform into a catechism of reaction is no slight philosophical feat. Though Mill's attempt was unsuccessful, it was valiant. For his effort he earned a reputation as the foremost nineteenth-century British Liberal political thinker. The theory he concocted puts to severe test the faith of a devout Liberal who still believes that fact and logic have some intellectual value. But this is as much a commentary on British Liberalism as it is on Mill's prowess as a philosopher.
John Stuart Mill's political thought, a fine sum of middle-class values set forth in Representative Government, is a fitting monument of nineteenth-century British Liberalism.
1 This introduction is almost entirely devoted to an analysis and criticism of Mill's political thought. For other discussions about Mill, the reader is referred to three other volumes in "The Library of Liberal Arts" recently published by the Liberal Arts Press: for an account of the philosophical tradition which is the background for the younger Mill's thought, see my introduction to James Mill, An Essay on Government (LLA 47; 1955); for information about Mill's life and work, see my introduction to John Stuart Mill, Autobiography (LLA 91; 1957); for a sketch of Mill as a political essayist and a brief critical anarysis of his views about liberty and authority, see my introduction to John Stuart Mill, On Liberty (LLA 61; 195fi).
2 The Considerations on Representative Government was first published in April, 1861, at London. Many other editions have since appeared.
3 Alexander Bain, John Stuart Mill: A Criticism; with Personal Recollections (London, 1882), p. 40.
4 Abolished in 1913 by the Seventeenth Amendment to the United States Constitution.
5 Edinburgh Review, LXXII (Oct., 1840), 3.
6 In a letter written in 1865 to the American editor, E. L. Godkin, Mill expressed grave fears about the leveling influence of democracy on civilization. See Letters of John Stuart Mill, 2 Vols., edited by Hugh Elliott (London, 1910), II, 35-36. Mill expresses similar fears in several passages in his Autobiography.
7 Edinburgh Review, LXXII (Oct., 1840), 47.
8 In a letter to the Morning Chronicle, Sept. 25, 1823.
9 In a series of articles in the Examiner, Nov. 18, Dec. 5, and Dec. 12, 1830.
10 In the Examiner, July 1, 1832.