The greatest happiness of the greatest number is the foundation

Jeremy Bentham, the English philosopher and reformer, once declared with both reason and passion: “The greatest happiness of the greatest number is the foundation of morals and legislation.” In this single, thunderous sentence, he offered a vision of ethics and governance that would reshape the conscience of civilization. To Bentham, happiness was not a luxury, nor a private pursuit, but the very purpose of morality and law — the guiding light by which nations and individuals should steer their course. For he believed that the worth of any action, any law, any institution, must be measured by one sacred question: Does it bring happiness to the many, or suffering?

This idea, known to the world as utilitarianism, arose in an age when kings ruled by privilege and societies were divided by class and cruelty. Bentham, witnessing the injustices of his time — prisons of misery, laws that served the few while crushing the many — sought to replace the arbitrariness of power with the reason of compassion. He saw that morality should not be built upon the whims of tradition, nor upon divine decree alone, but upon the universal and undeniable truth that all humans desire happiness and shun pain. Thus, to promote happiness and reduce suffering became, in his eyes, the supreme duty of all moral and political life.

Bentham’s words burn with a quiet fire because they are both rational and revolutionary. In them, he places the fate of humanity not in the hands of rulers or priests, but in the conscience of every soul. “The greatest happiness of the greatest number” — here is a principle both humble and grand: humble, because it begins with something as common as human feeling; grand, because it embraces the happiness of all, not of the powerful few. His wisdom reminds us that true morality cannot rest on self-interest, and true justice cannot serve only one tribe or class. It must extend to the whole family of mankind.

Throughout history, this idea has echoed in the deeds of great reformers. Florence Nightingale, the “Lady with the Lamp,” was a disciple of Bentham’s philosophy. When she walked the dark halls of the military hospitals, tending to the dying soldiers of the Crimean War, she was guided by the belief that the purpose of life is to lessen suffering and increase well-being. Her courage and compassion were not rooted in glory or faith alone, but in the practical and moral duty to serve “the greatest happiness of the greatest number.” In her, Bentham’s teaching became flesh — mercy transformed into method, kindness turned into policy.

Yet Bentham’s wisdom carries a deeper truth, one that the ancients themselves might have recognized: that happiness is not mere pleasure, but the flourishing of life itself. It is peace, justice, and the harmony of human relations. The Greeks called it eudaimonia — the blessed state of living in accordance with virtue. In this light, Bentham’s philosophy is not a rejection of moral depth, but its renewal. He calls upon us to see that the happiness of one cannot stand upon the misery of another. The good of all is the good of each. The more we widen our circle of concern, the closer we come to the divine law that governs all true ethics.

But his teaching also bears a warning. For in seeking happiness, one must be wise; not all pleasures lead to good, nor all comforts to virtue. Bentham’s principle demands discernment, for the fleeting joy of the few cannot outweigh the enduring sorrow of the many. When leaders forget this, when they trade the welfare of the people for greed or vanity, the moral foundation cracks. The laws may remain, but justice departs. Thus, to follow Bentham’s path is not to chase delight blindly, but to govern with compassion and wisdom joined as one.

So, my listener, take this teaching into your heart: live and act for the happiness of the many. Let your choices, both small and great, be guided by how they ease another’s pain or lift another’s spirit. In the home, in the marketplace, in the councils of nations, ask yourself: “Does this bring joy? Does this relieve suffering?” To live for the happiness of others is to become the guardian of your own soul. For in serving the greater good, your own happiness deepens, purified of selfish desire. This is the moral law Bentham revealed — ancient in spirit, eternal in truth — that the greatest happiness of the greatest number is not only the foundation of morals and legislation, but the foundation of the human heart itself.