Geometry

Beccaria echoes much of Locke's earlier theories regarding social contracts and the motivation of property, but also of Hobbe's State of War in nature, creating a curious blend of brutish men with honor.  "Laws," he says, "are the conditions by which independent and isolated men, tired of living in a constant state of war and of enjoying a freedom made useless by the uncertainty of keeping it, unite in society" (7).  This does not require the absolute subjugation of the subject, however, but to "sacrifice a portion of this liberty in order to enjoy the remainder in security and tranquility" (7).  This proportion of liberty surrendered is plugged into an equation of law and punishment, and dictates the use of both.  "No man freely gave up a part of his own liberty for the sake of the public good," so laws are required to balance selfishness and the greater good (8).

I was also particularly interested in Baccaria's discussion of vice and virtue, which have become "vague and fluctuating terms" due to confusion on the limits of crime and punishments (15).  "Anyone who will read the law codes and the annals of nations. . . will almost alwyas find the terms "vice" and virtue," "good citizen" and "criminal," changing their meaning in the course of a centuries" (15).  How, then, can crime, punishment, and legislation remain constant over time?

Baccaria, it seems, wants to answer this question with math.  His slim volume is riddled with "proportions," "equations," and "geometry" as if these figures will somehow apply to human nature and its morals.  "The credibility of a witness, therefore, must diminish in proportion to the hatred or friendship or close relationship between himself and the accused;" but how does one measure hatred or friendship (24)?  "Moral certainty is only a sort of probability,"--(please, tell this to a priest)--"but a probability such that it is deemed certainty, because everyone with good sense necessarily consents to it by dint of habit" and therefore a person's guilt can only be measured by the values of his or her peers (26).  And a glaring example: "A mathematician could solve the following problem better than a judge could: given the strength of an innocent person's muscles and the sensitivity of his fibers, find the degree of pain that will make him confess himself guilty of a given crime" (31).  Indeed, we have created measurements of pain tolerance and strength, but not strength of will or mental resistance to false accusations.

While I can appreciate many of Baccaria's points regarding the purpose and use of torture (that it is an extreme punishment, meant only for the most vicious crimes, and to serve as a deterrent for future crime), and that laws should operate with some perceived level of equality (no one should be able to buy their way out of a punishment); I feel this mathematical (Utilitarian?) basis for his philosophy is flawed.