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Well-being in philosophy encompasses what is ultimately good for a person and includes theories of pleasure, desire, and objective lists; an examination of its distinction from happiness, its relation to ethics, and positive psychology, in a translation of a Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy entry.

The Philosophy of Well-Being[1]
Roger Crisp[2]
Translated by Hossein Mohammadizadeh
Babak Abbasi
Introduction
In philosophy, the term well-being[3] is often used to describe what is non-instrumentally[4] or ultimately[5] good for a person[6]. The question of what well-being is is of independent interest, but it is also of great importance in moral philosophy, especially in utilitarianism[7], according to which the sole requirement of moral action is that it maximize well-being. Significant challenges to the concept itself have been raised, particularly by G. E. Moore[8] and T. M. Scanlon[9]. It is customary to distinguish theories of well-being under the headings of hedonistic theories[10], desire theories[11], and objective list theories[12]. According to a view known as welfarism[13], well-being is the only value. Also important in ethics is the question of how an individual's moral character and actions relate to their well-being.
1. The Concept
The common use of the term well-being [in English] is usually linked to the domain of health. For instance, a doctor's office might be a "Women's Well-Being Clinic." The philosophical use of this term is related to its common use but is broader, concerning how well a person's life is going for that person. A person's well-being is what is "good for" them. Thus, one can say that health is a component of my well-being, but it is not plausible to accept that health is all that matters for my well-being. One term related to well-being worth mentioning here is "self-interest"[14]: my self-interest is what is in my own interest, not that of others.
The philosophical use of the term also encompasses the "negative" aspects of a person's life. So we might speak of the well-being of someone who is, and will remain, afflicted by the most excruciating pain and suffering: their well-being is negative, such that their life is worse for them than death. The same holds true for terms close to well-being, such as the term "welfare," which concerns how a person's life is going overall, whether good or bad. Or the term "happiness," which can be understood as a positive balance of the good and bad things in an individual's life—as, for example, classical utilitarians from Jeremy Bentham onwards sometimes understood the term. Note, however, that philosophers' use of these terms in the "positive" sense is more common and established. To represent the negative aspects of a person's life, they speak of "ill-being"[15], "faring badly"[16], and, of course, "unhappiness"[17]. Most philosophical discussion has been about the "good" aspects rather than the "bad," but recently there has been greater interest in the bad aspects (e.g., Kagan[19]'s "An Introduction to Ill-Being"[18], 2015; and Bradford[21]'s "Perfectionist Bads"[20], 2021).
The term “happiness” in ordinary life is more often used to refer to a short-term state; often to refer to a feeling of satisfaction: “You seem happy today,” “I am very happy for you.” Philosophically, the scope of this term’s application is most often broader, encompassing a whole life. In philosophy, one can speak of the happiness of a person’s life, or a person’s happy life, even if that person was in fact usually quite miserable. The point is that some good things in their life made their life a happy one, even though the person lacked contentment. But this usage is unusual and may cause confusion.[22]
In recent decades, what is called “positive psychology”[23] has greatly increased the attention of psychologists and other scientists to the concept of “happiness.” Such happiness is usually understood in terms of contentment or “life satisfaction” and is measured with tools such as self-reports or daily questionnaires. Is positive psychology about well-being? The conceptual distinctions in this field are not yet sufficiently clear. But it is probably not unfair to say that many of those involved in this field, whether as researchers or as subjects, assume that a person’s life is good to the extent that the person is satisfied with it – and this means that the correctness of some kind of hedonistic account of well-being is assumed here. However, some positive psychologists explicitly reject hedonistic theories as an alternative to an Aristotelian or “eudaimonistic”[24] account of well-being. The Aristotelian account of well-being is a version of the “objective list” theory, which will be discussed later. For example, Martin Seligman,[25] as an important figure in this field, has suggested that positive psychology should focus on positive emotions,[26] engagement,[27] relationships,[28] meaning,[29] and achievement[30] – abbreviated as Perma – instead of happiness[31] (Seligman in Flourish: A New Understanding of Happiness and Well-Being – and How to Achieve Them,[32] 2011).
When discussing the concept of what makes a life good for an individual, it is better to use the term “well-being” instead of “happiness.” Because we want to allow conceptual space for the possibility that, for example, the life of a plant could also be “good for” that plant. But speaking of the happiness of a plant is an excessive extension of the linguistic usage of this term. (Here, the term “flourishing” could also be an option, although it might imply a certain bias; the bias of analyzing human well-being under a kind of natural teleology). In this respect, one might think the Greek word eudaimonia,[33] which was usually translated as “happiness,”[34] is a better option. But, in fact, eudaimonia seems to be limited not only to conscious beings, but to humans: non-human animals cannot be eudaimon; because the term eudaimonia implies that the gods or fate have favored someone, and the idea that the gods could care about non-humans did not occur to the minds of most Greeks.
It is occasionally claimed that some ancient ethical theories, such as Aristotle's, lead to the collapse of this concept of well-being. On Aristotle's view, if you are my friend, then my well-being is closely tied to yours. So it might be tempting to say that “your” well-being is “part” of mine, in which case the distinction between what is good for me and what is good for others dissolves. But this temptation should be resisted. Your well-being is a matter of how well your life goes for you. We can accept that my well-being depends on yours without invoking the confusing idea that your well-being is part of mine. In Aristotelian thought, there are hints of a conceptual extension in the meaning of the subject or bearer of a good life. The friend is “another self,” so what benefits my friend benefits me. But this should be taken either as a metaphorical expression of the dependency claim[35], or as an identity claim[36] in a way that does not threaten the concept of well-being: if you really are the same individual as me, then of course what is good for you will be good for me, because there is no longer any metaphysically significant distinction between you and me.
Well-being is a kind of value, sometimes called “prudential value”[37], distinct from, say, aesthetic value or moral value. What marks it out is the notion of “good for.” For instance, the serenity of a Vermeer painting[38] is a kind of goodness, but it is not “good for” the painting. It may be good for us to contemplate such serenity, but contemplating the serenity of a painting is not the same as the serenity of the painting. Similarly, my giving money to a charity might have moral value, that is, be morally good, and the effects of my donation might be good for others. But the question remains open whether my being “morally good” is good for me. Even if it is, this notion of its being good “for me” is still distinct from its being good from a moral point of view. In philosophy, much attention has been paid to moral “normativity”[39], and less to prudential normativity. (Recent exceptions: Dorsey in The Theory of Prudence[40], 2021; Fletcher in Dear Prudence: The Nature and Normativity of Prudential Discourse[41], 2021).
The most common view about well-being is “invariabilism”[42], according to which there is a single account of well-being for all individuals; for the lives that can be good or bad for them (Lin, in “Well-Being Invariabilism”[43], 2018). However, some have argued that we should develop a variabilist view[44], according to which, for example, one might have one theory of well-being for adults and another for children (see “Children’s Well-Being: A Philosophical Analysis”[45] by Skelton). According to Benatar (Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence[46], 2006), for every individual with well-being, existing is always and overall of negative value. On well-being and death, see Bradley (Well-Being and Death[47], 2006).
2. Moore's Challenge
There is something peculiar about the concept of “good for.” Consider a possible world that contains only one item: one of Vermeer’s stunning paintings. Set aside any doubts you may have about whether paintings can be good in a world without viewers, and accept for the sake of argument that this painting has aesthetic value in that world. Intuitively, it seems reasonable to claim that the value of this world is determined solely by the aesthetic value of this painting. Now consider a world in which there is an individual whose life is good for him. How should we describe the relationship between the value of this world and the value of the life lived (in this world) for that individual? Can we even say that this world has value? How is such a thing possible, if the only value present in this world is of the “good for” type, as opposed to “good” simpliciter? Yet, we would surely say that this world is better (more good) than an empty world. Well, should we say that this world is good, precisely because it contains good “for” that individual? But this formulation cannot capture the thought that there is in fact no value in this world except what is good for that individual.
Reflections of this sort led G. E. Moore to object to the very concept of “good for” (Principia Ethica[48], by G. E. Moore, 1903, p. 98, paragraph 9). Moore argued that the concept of “my own[49] good”—which he considered equivalent to “good for me”—is meaningless. He claimed that when I speak, for example, of pleasure as something that is good for me, I can only mean that the pleasure I experience is good, or that my experiencing pleasure is good. By saying that pleasure is my good, or that pleasure is good for me, nothing is added to the previous statement.
But the above distinctions between different categories of value show that Moore’s analysis of the claim “pleasure is good for me” is too limited. In fact, Moore’s argument rests on the very assumption he seeks to prove: the assumption that for all our value judgments, we only need the concept of “good.” In that case, the claim that it is good that I experience pleasure would be logically equivalent to the claim that a world containing only a Vermeer painting is good. But this account of the concept of good is, so to speak, “impersonal” and sets aside the specific characteristic of well-being value: the characteristic of being good “for” individuals.
One way of responding to Moore’s challenge and the puzzles above is to try, wherever appropriate, to use “good for” instead of the concept of “good,” along with the independent, non-evaluative concept of reasons for action (see Against Absolute Goodness[50], by Kraut, 2011). Consequently, one can say that a world whose sole inhabitant is someone whose life is worth living has nothing good in itself, apart from the life that is good for that individual. And this fact might give us a reason to bring such a world into existence, given our possibilities.
3. Scanlon’s Challenge
Moore’s book was published at the beginning of the twentieth century in Cambridge, England. At the end of the same century, a book was published in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which also posed serious challenges to the concept of well-being: What We Owe to Each Other[51] by T. M. Scanlon
Moore’s ultimate aim in questioning the concept of “good for” was to attack egoism.[52] Scanlon, too, has an ulterior motive in opposing the concept of well-being: an attack on so-called “teleological”[53] or end-based ethical theories, especially utilitarianism, which in its conventional and established form asks us to maximize well-being. In both cases, of course, the critiques are independent.
One curious aspect of Scanlon's position that "well-being" is a dispensable concept in ethics is that he himself apparently holds a view about what well-being is. He believes that well-being involves other components, including success in achieving reasonable goals and having personal relationships. But Scanlon claims that his view is not "a theory of well-being," because a theory must explain what unifies these various components and how they should be compared with one another. He adds that such a theory has never been available to us, because such matters are largely context-dependent.
Nevertheless, Scanlon implicitly makes a claim about what unifies these values: in contrast to other types of values, such as aesthetic value or moral value, they are all components of well-being. It is also unclear why Scanlon's view of well-being could not be extended to help in choosing among different values in one's own life in real life.
In Scanlon's view, we often speak of what is good in our lives without referring to the concept of well-being, and in fact, referring to this concept is often a strange thing to do. For example, I might say: "I listen to Alison Krauss's[54] music because I enjoy it," and that is sufficient. There is no need to continue and say: "And enjoyment adds to my well-being."
But uttering the latter sentence seems strange only because we already know that enjoyment makes a person's life better for them. Moreover, in some circumstances such a claim is not at all strange: for instance, when arguing with someone who claims that aesthetic experience is worthless, or in a discussion with an ascetic [who considers pleasure bad]. Furthermore, people use the concept of well-being in thinking about goals. For example, if I have the opportunity to achieve an important success that would be a considerable source of trouble for several years, I might think about whether, from the perspective of my own well-being, this project is worth pursuing.
Scanlon also argues that if the concept of well-being is to be philosophically acceptable, it must provide a "sphere of compensation"[55] — a context in which it is meaningful to say, for example, that I am losing some good in my life in order to gain success in my life as a whole. And he claims that no such sphere exists. For Scanlon, giving up present comfort for the sake of future health "looks like a kind of sacrifice."
But this analysis does not accord with my own experience. When I donate blood, in my imagination, this act is a kind of self-sacrifice, albeit a small one. But when I visit the dentist, I myself think that I am weighing current pains against possible future pains. We can weigh different components of well-being against one another. For example, you are offered a job that pays a high salary but is kilometers away from your friends and family.
Scanlon denies that we need an account of well-being to understand benevolence, because we do not have a general duty called benevolence, but rather merely have duties to benefit others in specific ways, such as alleviating their pain. But from a philosophical perspective, using the label "benevolence" to group such duties can be quite useful. And again, comparison can be important: if I have several as-yet-undetermined[56] duties of benevolence, not all of which can be performed, I must weigh and compare the various benefits I can provide to others. And here the concept of well-being will enter the scene again.
Moreover, if morality includes so-called "imperfect"[57] duties for the benefit of others — that is, duties that allow the agent discretion regarding when and how to help — the lack of any comprehensive conception of well-being would likely make fulfilling such duties problematic.
4. Theories of Well-Being
4.1 Hedonism
According to one view, people always seek what they think will yield the greatest positive balance of pleasure over pain. This view is “psychological hedonism”[58], which is not my concern here. Instead, I intend to discuss “evaluative hedonism”[59] or “prudential hedonism”[60], according to which well-being consists in the greatest positive balance of pleasure over pain.
This view was first, and perhaps most excellently, articulated by Socrates[61] and Protagoras[62] in the Platonic dialogue Protagoras. Jeremy Bentham[63], one of the best-known later hedonists, begins An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation[64] thus: “Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign masters, pain and pleasure. It is for them alone to point out what we ought to do.”
So, in answer to the question “What is well-being?”, the hedonist will say: “The greatest positive balance of pleasure over pain.” We may call this substantive hedonism[65]. The full hedonistic position also includes explanatory hedonism[66], which is the answer to the question “What makes pleasure good and pain bad?”, and the answer is: “The pleasantness of pleasure and the painfulness of pain.” Consider a proponent of substantive hedonism who believes that what makes pleasure good for us is that it fulfills our nature. This person is not a theorist of explanatory hedonism.
Hedonism—as its ancient roots indicate—has long seemed an apparently plausible view. It might be thought that well-being, what is good for me, is naturally connected to what seems good to me, and pleasure, to most people, seems good. And what else could benefit me unless I enjoy it?
The simplest form of hedonism is Bentham’s, according to which the more pleasure a person can fit into their life, the better it will be, and the more pain they are involved with, the worse it will be. How do we measure the value of these two experiences? For Bentham, the two main aspects of the relevant experiences are their duration and their intensity.
As the concept of intensity might suggest, Bentham tended to view pleasure and pain as a kind of sensation. One problem with this type of hedonism, often raised, is that there does not seem to be a single, common thread of pleasantness running through all the different experiences people enjoy—such as eating a hamburger, reading Shakespeare, or playing water polo. Instead, it seems there are certain experiences we want to continue, and we might be willing to call them pleasures for philosophical purposes (even though some of them are not usually described as pleasurable; for instance, diving in a very deep and narrow cave).
But hedonism can survive this objection simply by incorporating any plausible view of pleasure. A more serious objection is to the evaluative stance[67] of hedonism itself. For example, Thomas Carlyle[68] described the hedonistic component of utilitarianism as the “philosophy of swine,”[69] on the grounds that simple hedonism places all pleasures on a par, whether it be the lowest animal pleasure of sex or the highest pleasure of aesthetic appreciation. This point can be expressed with a thought experiment. Imagine that you are given the choice of either having a very satisfying human life, or the life of an oyster with very slight consciousness that experiences a lowly pleasure. Also imagine that the oyster’s life can be as long as you like, whereas the human life is only eighty years. If Bentham were right, the oyster could have such a lifespan that it would be preferred to the human life. Yet many would still say they prefer the human life to the oyster’s life, whatever its length.
Well, this is not a devastating argument against simple hedonism. Some people are indeed willing to accept that, given a certain lifespan, the oyster’s life is preferable. But there is also an alternative to simple hedonism, the outlines of which were drawn by John Stuart Mill[70]—who was himself influenced by Plato’s discussion of pleasure at the end of the Republic[71]—using the distinction between “higher” and “lower” pleasures. Stuart Mill added a third feature to the two value-determining features Bentham had identified, namely duration and intensity. To distinguish this feature from those two “quantitative” features, Stuart Mill called the third feature “quality.” The claim is that some pleasures, by their very nature, are more valuable than others. For example, the pleasure of reading Shakespeare is, in itself, more valuable than any amount of basic animal pleasure. And in Stuart Mill’s view, we can see this if we note that those who have experienced both kinds of pleasure, and are “competent judges,”[72] will choose on the basis of quality.
An old objection raised against this move by Stuart Mill is that his position can no longer be considered hedonism (or what I call “explanatory hedonism”) in the true sense of the word. If higher pleasures are higher because of their nature, this aspect of their nature cannot be pleasantness, because pleasantness is determined solely by duration and intensity. In any case, Stuart Mill speaks of features such as “nobility”[73] that add to the value of pleasure. It must be admitted, of course, that Stuart Mill is doing something risky here. But there is logical space for the hedonist position to allow features like nobility to determine pleasantness and still insist that only pleasantness determines value. Yet we may rightly wonder how nobility could affect pleasantness, and why Stuart Mill did not simply state that nobility is itself a good-making feature.
Earlier, I mentioned the plausibility of the claim that nothing can benefit me if I do not enjoy it. Some non-hedonists have rejected this claim, even though they accept the “experience requirement”[74] for well-being. According to them, what matters is valuable consciousness, and consciousness may be valuable for non-hedonistic reasons (for further details, see The Quality of Life: Aristotle Revised[75] by Kraut, 2018, and “The Value of Consciousness”[76] by Kriegel[77] 2019). However, both hedonism and the view that well-being consists solely in conscious states still face a more serious objection: the objection known as the “experience machine.”[78] Imagine I have a machine to which I can connect you for the rest of your life. This machine gives you any experience you think is most valuable and pleasurable: the experience of writing a great novel, creating world peace, attending an early Rolling Stones[79] concert. You do not know you are connected to the machine, and there is no worry about the machine breaking down or anything else. Would you connect to it? From the perspective of your own well-being, is it rational to connect to it? According to Robert Nozick,[80] it would be a big mistake to connect to it: “We want to do certain things … we want to be a certain way … plugging into an experience machine limits us to a man-made reality” (Anarchy, State, and Utopia[81] by Robert Nozick, 1974, p. 43).
The experience machine can be made more plausible: allowing real choices within it, and allowing those connected to the machine access to a “virtual world” shared by other users of the machine, a world in which “normal” communication is possible, and so on. But this will not be enough for many opponents of hedonism. Another objection comes from “externalism”[82] in the philosophy of mind, according to which the content of mental states is determined by facts outside the experiencer of those states. Thus, the experience of actually writing a great novel is completely different from the experience of merely imagining writing a great novel, even if the two cannot be distinguished “from the inside.” But this, too, is risky. If the world can affect the content of my experience without my being able to be aware of it, why could it not directly affect the value of my experience?
The strongest defense hedonists can mount is to concede the apparent force of the experience machine objection, but insist that this objection rests on the intuitions of “common sense”;[83] a basis in our lives that might itself derive its justification from hedonism. The strategy adopted is similar to the one developed by “two-level utilitarians”[84] in response to counterexamples framed in terms of common-sense morality. Hedonists will point to the “paradox of hedonism”:[85] that pleasure is, in practice, pursued more successfully indirectly. If I consciously try to maximize my pleasure, I cannot immerse myself in those activities, such as reading or playing, that bring pleasure. But if I believe those activities are valuable—independently of the pleasure I gain from engaging in them—I will likely end up with more pleasure overall.
Such impasses in moral philosophy are regrettable, but they should not be dismissed (for a comprehensive discussion of the experience machine, see “How to Use the Experience Machine”[86] by Lin, 2016). They raise questions about moral epistemology, the source and epistemic status of our deepest moral beliefs; questions for which we are further from finding answers than many would like to think. Certainly, the current practice of swiftly dismissing hedonism based on a cursory review of the experience machine objection is not methodologically sound.
4-2- Desire Theories
The problems with the experience machine have been a primary motivation for adopting the desire theory (for a good introduction to this view, see Heathwood’s “Desire-Fulfillment Theory”[87], 2016 and “Which Desires Are Relevant to Well-Being?”[88], 2019). When you are inside the machine, many of your fundamental desires likely remain unfulfilled. Consider your desire to write a great novel. You might believe you are writing a great novel, but in reality, it is merely an illusion. According to the desire theory argument, what you want is to write a great novel, not the experience of writing a great novel.
Historically, however, the reason for the current dominance of desire theories lies in the rise of welfare economics[90]. Pleasure and pain are in people’s minds and are difficult to measure, especially when we must compare the experiences of different individuals. Consequently, economists began to view people’s well-being in terms of the satisfaction of preferences or desires, the content of which could be revealed through the choices of their owners. This view made it possible to rank preferences, develop individuals’ “utility functions,” and devise methods for assessing the value of preference satisfaction using, for example, money as a metric.
The simplest version of the desire theory can be called the present desire[91] theory, according to which a person’s life goes better to the extent that their current desires are satisfied. This theory succeeds in avoiding the experience machine objection. But it has serious problems of its own. Consider, for instance, the case of the angry teenager[92]. His mother tells him he cannot attend a certain nightclub, so he puts a gun to his head, wanting to pull the trigger and take revenge on his mother. Remember that the scope of well-being theories is meant to encompass an entire life. It is unacceptable to say that by pulling the trigger, this teenager causes his life to go as well as possible. Perhaps we could interpret the simple desire theory as a theory of well-being at a specific time[93]. But this still does not seem satisfactory. From any perspective, the teenager would be better off if he put the gun down.
Thus, we must move towards a comprehensive desire[94] theory, according to which what matters for a person’s well-being is the overall level of desire satisfaction across their entire life. The summative[95] version of this theory explicitly states that the more desires are fulfilled in a life, the better it is. But this falls prey to Parfit’s[96] problem of addiction (in Reasons and Persons[97], 1984, p. 497). Imagine you could start taking a highly addictive drug; a drug that would create a very strong desire in you each morning to take it. Taking the drug would give you no pleasure. But not taking it would cause you very severe suffering. Access to the drug is not a problem and costs you nothing. Yet, what reason do you have to take it?
The global[98] version of the comprehensive desire theory ranks desires, giving some priority to desires concerning the shape and content of one's life; life as a whole. So, my preference not to become a drug addict explains why it is better for me not to take Parfit's drug. But now let us turn to the case of the orphan monk.[99] This young man was trained at an early age to become a monk and has lived a carefree life. He is now presented with three options: he can remain a monk, or leave the monastery to become a cook or a gardener on a farm. He has no conception of the second and third options, so he decides to remain a monk. Yet it is possible that had he lived outside the monastery, his life would have been better.
Well, we must now move toward the informed desire[100] version of the comprehensive theory (“Well-Being: Full-Information Accounts”[101] by Sobel[102], 1994). According to the informed desire account, the best life is the one I would desire if I were fully informed about all the (non-evaluative) facts. But now consider the case of the grass-counter,[103] which John Rawls[104] popularized (A Theory of Justice,[105] 1971; see also “Deliciousness”[106] by Stace, 1944). Imagine a brilliant Harvard mathematician who is fully aware of the options available to him and has an unqualified desire to count the blades of grass on the Harvard lawns. Like the experience machine, this case is another example of a philosophical “bedrock.”[107] Some believe that if he is truly informed and has no particular neurosis, a life engaged in grass-counting would be the best life for him.
Note that according to the informed desire view, a person must actually have the desires in question for well-being to accrue to them. If it is true of me that, were I fully informed, I might desire something I currently have no desire for, giving me that thing would be of no benefit to me. If a theory makes such a claim, it would transform into an objective list theory based on a desire-based epistemology.
All these difficulties with desire theories seem to be symptoms of a more general problem. Recall again the distinction between substantive and formal theories of well-being. Substantive theories state the constituents of well-being (such as pleasure), while formal theories state what makes these things good for people (e.g., being pleasant). In principle, a desire theorist and a hedonist might agree on what makes life good for people: having pleasant experiences. But they would differ formally: the hedonist refers to pleasantness as the good-maker, while the desire theorist must refer to desire satisfaction. (It is worth noting that if one describes pleasure as an experience a person wants to continue, distinguishing between a pleasure theory and a desire theory becomes very difficult.)
The idea that desire satisfaction is a “good-making property”[108] is somewhat peculiar. As Aristotle says (Metaphysics,[109] 1072a, trans. Ross[110]): “desire is consequent on belief, rather than belief on desire.” In other words, we desire things, like writing a great novel, because we think those things are independently good. We do not think they are good because they satisfy our desire for them.
4-3 Objective List Theories
The tripartite distinction I employ among different theories of well-being has become standard in contemporary ethics (Reasons and Persons by Parfit 1984: Appendix I). However, like many classifications, this one has its problems, as it may blind us to other ways of describing the views (see “The Limits of Well-Being”[111] by Kagan 1992; and “On Hybrid Theories of Personal Good”[112] by Hurka[113], 2019). Objective list theories are usually understood as theories that list the components of which well-being consists, a list that is neither merely pleasant experience nor merely the satisfaction of desire. Among these components might be, for example, knowledge or friendship. It is worth noting, however, that hedonism, for instance, could be regarded as a kind of “list” theory, and consequently, all list theories could be set as a whole against desire theories.
What should be placed on the list? (“Objective Human Goods”[114], by A. Moore[115], 2000) The important thing is that the list must contain all goods. As Aristotle wrote: “We take what is self-sufficient[116] to be that which on its own makes life worthy of choice and lacking in nothing. We think happiness is like this, and indeed more than anything else worthy of choice, not merely as one thing among others” (Nicomachean Ethics[117], 1097b, trans. Crisp[118]). In other words, if you claim that the components of well-being are only friendship and pleasure, I can show your list to be unacceptable if I prove that knowledge also makes people better off.
From the perspective of objective list theorists, what is the “good-maker”? It depends on the theory. Perfectionism is one such theory, influenced by Aristotle and recently developed by Thomas Hurka (in the book Perfectionism[119], 1993; and see “Problems for Perfectionism”[120] by Bradford, 2017). According to perfectionism, what makes something a component of well-being is that it perfects human nature. (For the history of modern perfectionism, see Normative Perfectionism and the Kantian Tradition[121] by Brink[122] 2019.) If, for example, acquiring knowledge is part of human nature, the perfectionist must claim that knowledge is a component of well-being. But nothing prevents the objective list theorist from claiming that the common feature of all the items on her list is that each, in its own way, promotes well-being.
How should one determine what goes on the list? We can only work by offering considered judgments (intuitions, if you like). But one should not conclude from this that objective list theorists, because they are intuitionists, are less persuasive than the theorists of the other two theories. For those theories, too, can only be based on considered judgment. Nor should one think that intuitionism precludes argument. Argument is one of the ways that leads people to grasp the truth. Furthermore, we must remember that our intuitions may be mistaken. Indeed, as mentioned earlier, this is the strongest line of defense available to hedonists: attempting to undermine the justificatory value of many of our natural beliefs about what is good for people.
One common objection to objective list theories is that they are elitist, since they apparently claim that certain things are good for people even if they do not enjoy them and even if they do not want them. A strategy that might be adopted here is a “hybrid”[123] account, according to which a person’s benefit depends on specific goods, independent of pleasure and desire satisfaction, but only when they actually cause pleasure and/or desire satisfaction. Another approach is to not flinch and to say that a theory might well be correct even while being elitist.
It is also worth noting that objective list theories need not involve any objectionable authoritarianism[124] or perfectionism. For, first, one might include autonomy[125] in one’s list and claim that living consciously and reflectively is itself a constitutive component of a person’s good. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, one might point out that theories of well-being have no direct moral implications in and of themselves. Logically, nothing prevents one from holding a highly elitist conception of well-being alongside a strict liberal view; a view that prohibits any paternalistic intervention in life (indeed, on some interpretations, John Stuart Mill’s position is close to this view).
If desire theories are mistaken in reversing the relationship between desire and what is good, then the view that the real debate is between hedonism and objective list theories seems plausible. And as we said earlier, what is most at stake here is the epistemic adequacy of our beliefs about well-being. And the best way to resolve this issue – at least largely – is to return once more to the experience machine objection and seek to discover whether this objection remains as strong as ever or not.
5. Well-Being and Ethics
5.1 Welfarism
It is obvious that well-being plays a fundamental role in any ethical theory. A theory that claimed well-being does not matter would be given no credence whatsoever. Indeed, it is very tempting to think that well-being, in some ultimate sense, is the only thing that matters ethically. Consider, for example, Joseph Raz’s[127] “humanistic principle”[126]: “the explanation and justification of the goodness or badness of anything derives ultimately from its contribution, actual or possible, to human life and its quality” (The Morality of Freedom[128] by Raz 1986, p. 194). If we extend this principle to the well-being of non-humans as well, it might be interpreted as the claim that, ultimately, the justificatory power of any moral reason is grounded in well-being. This view is welfarism.
Act-utilitarians, who believe the right action is the one that maximizes aggregate well-being, might try to use the intuitive plausibility of welfarism to defend their position, arguing that any deviation from maximizing well-being must be based on something distinct from well-being – such as equality or rights. But those who defend equality might argue that egalitarians are concerned with giving priority to those who are worse off, and here we see the relevance of the argument to a concern for well-being. Similarly, those concerned with rights might point out that we have rights to certain specific goods, like liberty, or to the absence of evils, like suffering (e.g., the right not to be tortured). In other words, the interpretation of welfarism is itself a matter of dispute. But however we understand it, welfarism seems to create a problem for some; for those who believe that ethics can require actions that benefit no one and harm some. An example is the imposition of retributive punishments that give individuals what they deserve.
5.2 Well-Being and Virtue
Ancient ethical philosophy was, in one sense, more concerned with well-being than many modern ethical philosophies. The central question for many ancient ethical philosophers was, “Which life is better for the person?”. The rationality of egoism—the view that my strongest motivation is always the promotion of my own well-being—was largely taken for granted. And this created a problem. Our natural conception is that ethics relates to the interests of others. So if egoism is correct, what reason do we have to be ethical?
One specific strategy in defense of ethics is to claim that a person’s virtue or virtuous activity is, in some sense, a component of well-being. The three great ancient philosophers, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, each adopted this strategy in subtly different ways (for a modern defense of this view, see: The Virtues of Happiness: A Theory of the Good Life[129] by Bloomfield[130], 2014). Plato, in one of his works, seems to grant a rationality to ethical self-sacrifice: in the famous “Allegory of the Cave” in the dialogue Republic, philosophers are ethically obligated to refrain from contemplating the sun outside the cave and instead must descend back into the cave[131] to guide their fellow citizens. But in Aristotle’s extensive works, there is no recommendation for self-sacrifice. Aristotle believed he could defend virtuous choice as something that is always in the individual’s interest. However, note that he need not be considered an egoist in the strict sense; that is, someone who believes our sole justifying reason for action is our own well-being. In his view, virtue is both for the good of others and (at least when we act on it) for our own good. Thus, Aristotle might have legitimately allowed that the well-being of others provides reasons for my action. But these reasons never conflict or clash with reasons grounded in my own well-being.
His main argument, which is perfectionist and distinctive, is the “Function Argument.” According to this argument, the good for a being must be understood by attending to the “function” or characteristic activity of that being. The characteristic activity of humans is the exercise of reason, and the human good consists in exercising reason well, that is, in accordance with the virtues. This argument—which Aristotle states very briefly and which rests on assumptions from other parts of his philosophy and certainly from Plato’s philosophy—seems to be a fusion of two ideas: what is good for a person and what is ethically good. I might accept that a “good” specimen of humanity is a virtuous human, but not accept that this person is doing what is best for themselves. Rather, I might insist that reason dictates the promotion of one’s own good, and that this good consists of, say, pleasure, power, or honor. But the bulk of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics is devoted to describing and depicting the lives of virtuous and vicious individuals, and this provides independent confirmation for the claim that virtue is a component of well-being.
It is particularly noteworthy that Aristotle emphasizes the value of the “noble” (tò kalón); a quasi-aesthetic value which those sensitive to such qualities might plausibly consider a component of well-being more valuable than any other component. In this respect, the goodness of virtue is “unconditional” in a Kantian sense. Yet for Aristotle, virtue or the “good will” is not only ethically good, but also good for the individual themselves.
Bibliography
G. Fletcher’s The Philosophy of Well-Being: An Introduction[132] (2016a) is an excellent introduction to the philosophy of well-being. For a very clear overview, see “The Elements of Well-Being”[133] by B. Hooker[134] (2015). A number of important recent and late works include:
Fletcher's (2016b) edited collection is a very useful anthology. See also the edited collection by Nussbaum and Sen[155] (1993).
* Our learned friend Dr. Javad Heydari patiently read the translation and enhanced its accuracy with his helpful suggestions. We are grateful to him. M
[1] . This article is a translation of the entry on well-being from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, substantively revised in September 2021.
[2] Roger Crisp
[3]. well-being
[4]. non-instrumentally
[5]. ultimately
[6]. good for a person
[7]. utilitarianism
[8]. G.E. Moore
[9]. T.M. Scanlon
[10]. hedonist theories
[11]. desire theories
[12]. objective list theories
[13]. Welfarism Although in Persian the equivalent for welfare is more familiarly "رفاه," here, and given the philosophical context of the discussion, the equivalents "بهزیستی" and "بهزیستیباوری" (cf. Dariush Ashouri, *Farhang-e Olum-e Ensani*, s.v.) seem to be less problematic. M.
[14]. self-interest
[15]. ill-being
[16]. ill-faring
[17]. unhappiness
[18]. "An Introduction to Ill-being"
[19]. Kagan
[20]. "Perfectionist Bads"
[21]. Bradford
[22]. Apparently, we do not have such a usage in Persian. —M.
[23] positive psychology, or "positive psychology" as it is common in some Persian texts.
[24] eudaimonist
[25]. Martin Seligman
[26]. positive emotion
[27]. engagement
[28]. relationships
[29]. meaning
[30]. accomplishment
[31]. This set of five is indicated by the acronym PERMA (combining the first letter of the five English words). —M.
[32]. Flourish: A New Understanding of Happiness and Well-being—and How to Achieve Them
[33] eudaimonia
[34] happiness
[35] dependence claim
[36] identity claim
[37] prudential value
[38]. Vermeer
[39] normativity
[40]. Dorsey, A Theory of Prudence
[41]. Fletcher, Dear Prudence: The Nature and Normativity of Prudential Discourse
[42]. invariabilism
[43]. Lin, "Welfare Invariabilism"
[44] . variabilist
[45]. Skelton, "Children’s Well-being: A Philosophical Analysis"
[46]. Benatar, Better Never to have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence
[47]. Well-being and Death
[48]. Principia Ethica
[49]. In the translation of this entry, the equivalent "khoob" has often been used for "good," and in some cases, the equivalent "khayr" has been used. —M.
[50]. Kraut, Against Absolute Goodness
[51]. What We Owe to Each Other [The title of the book was not accurately recorded in the English text. The correct form is the one we have provided here. —M]
[52]. egoism
[53]. teleological
[54]. Alison Krauss
[55]. sphere of compensation
[56] pro tanto duties (as opposed to "determinate duty" or "duty in practice") is used to name a state in which a person's duty is not yet fully determined and external considerations can determine their final duty in practice. Very close to the concept of "prima facie duties." —M.
[57]. imperfect
[58]. psychological hedonism
[59]. evaluative hedonism
[60]. prudential hedonism
[61]. Socrates
[62]. Protagoras
[63]. Jeremy Bentham
[64]. Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation
[65]. substantive hedonism
[66]. explanatory hedonism
[67]. evaluative stance
[68]. Thomas Carlyle
[69]. philosophy of swine
[70]. J.S. Mill
[71]. Republic
[72] competent judges
[73] nobility
[74]. experience requirement
[75]. The Quality of Life: Aristotle Revised
[76]. "The Value of Consciousness"
[77]. Kriegel
[78]. experience machine
[79]. Rolling Stones
[80]. Robert Nozick
[81]. Anarchy, State, and Utopia
[82]. externalism
[83]. common sense
[84]. two-level utilitarians
[85]. paradox of hedonism
[86]. "How to Use the Experience Machine"
[87]. Heathwood
[88]. "Desire-Fulfillment Theory"
[89]. "Which Desires are Relevant to Well-being?"
[90] welfare economics
[91]. present desire
[92]. angry adolescent
[93] well-being-at-a-particular-time
[94]. comprehensive desire
[95]. summative version
[96]. Derek Parfit
[97]. Reasons and Persons
[98]. global
[99]. orphan monk
[100]. informed desire
[101]. "Full-information Accounts of Well-being"
[102]. Sobel
[103]. grass-counter
[104]. John Rawls
[105]. A Theory of Justice
[106]. “Interestingness”
[107] . bedrock
[108]. good-making property
[109]. Metaphysics
[110]. Ross
[111]. "The Limits of Well-being"
[112]. "On Hybrid Theories of Personal Good"
[113]. Hurka
[114]. "Objective Human Good"
[115]. A. Moor
[116]. self-sufficient
[117]. Nicomachean Ethics
[118]. Crisp
[119]. Perfectionism
[120]. "Problems for Perfectionism"
[121]. "Normative Perfectionism and the Kantian Tradition"
[122]. Brink
[123]. hybrid
[124] authoritarianism
[125]. autonomy
[126]. humanistic principle
[127]. Joseph Raz
[128]. The Morality of Freedom
[129]. The Virtues of Happiness: A Theory of the Good Life
[130]. Bloomfield
[131]. The cave that Plato describes in this allegory slopes downward from its entrance. —Ed.
[132]. The Philosophy of Well-being: An Introduction
[133]. "The Elements of Well-being"
[134]. B. Hooker
[135]. Well-being
[136]. J. Griffin
[137]. Natural Law and Natural Rights
[138]. Finnis
[139]. Life’s Values: Pleasure, Happiness, Well-being, and Meaning
[140]. A. Goldm
[141]. From Value to Valuing: A Defense of Subjectivism
[142]. Pleasure and the Good Life
[143]. F. Feldman
[144]. Reasons and the Good
[145]. R. Crisp
[146]. Welfare, Happiness, and Ethics
[147]. W. Sumner
[148]. What is Good and Why?
[149]. The Pursuit of Unhappiness
[150]. D. Haybron
[151]. The Reflective Life
[152]. V. Tiberiu
[153]. A Philosophy for the Science of Well-being
[154]. A. Alexandrova
[155]. Nussbaum and Sen
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