Badiou’s Ethics of Singularity, The Federalist 10, and Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice

The relationship between ethics and politics is a curious one. It highlights an even deeper relationship between theory and practice. In a debate with Cornel West at Princeton University in March, 2006, French Philosopher Alain Badiou highlights three classical conceptions of ethics: the Theological, the Natural conception, and the Formalist. Perhaps this should be our beginning. Theological ethics, Badiou articulates, is an ethics of submission. The difference between good and evil is a transcendental one ruled by God and not by human beings. You have to obey the law—as divine law is the most important concept. In the Natural conception, the dichotomy of good and evil is a human one. There is a certain sensibility that guides action. Badiou suggests this conception is based on pity in understanding the suffering of one or another, “you have an immediate pity for the suffering of the human animal” Badiou says. Natural ethics is an ethics of sensibility where the most important concept is that of the victim. In the formal conception, the difference of good and evil depends on the form of action. This form is subjective. The form is not the content or the goal of action of but the subjective intention of action. If one acts exclusively, taking into consideration a moral duty, he or she is right. If one acts taking into consideration personal interests, he or she is wrong. The formalist ethics, Badiou says, is based on “purely subjective liberty.” The most important concept here is that of the formal imperative—what Kant calls the Categorical Imperative—a standard of rationality which all moral requirements are derived.

It is here that Badiou breaks from classical ethics as articulated above in that he believes there is no abstract or divine law which says to or for us which is good or evil. There is no general or natural feeling between victims which says what we have to do. And there is no formal imperative which allows us to separate good will and bad will. In other words, to fix an orientation to action or judgment, there is no general rule, no immediate sensibility, or pure form. One must think about the immediate situation and find a new rule of action. It is within this that Badiou introduces an “Ethics of Singularity”—the singular situation that guides action. Furthermore, Badiou says knowing the immediate situation is not enough. One must know the day’s geopolitical situation. Where I feel Badiou’s Ethics of singularity falls short but doesn’t necessarily lose potency is in his taking for granted the concept of the state—particularly the liberal state theoretically birthed within a sense of republicanism but also the notion of private ownership.

In the Federalist No. 10, Madison writes, “The diversity in the faculties of men from which the rights of property originate, is not less and insuperable obstacle to a uniformity of interests. The protection of these faculties is the first object of Government.” Madison goes on further to add,

“…the protection of different and unequal faculties of acquiring property, the possession of different degrees and kinds of property immediately results: and from the influence of these on the sentiments and views of the respective proprietors, ensues a division of the society into different interests and parties.”

I contend that it is critical to keep Madison’s reasoning for factions within a state in context with the social developments of the day—particularly the economic. Historian Joyce Appleby has argued that the development of the free market was one of the few true novelties in history, changing the relationship of not only person to person, but of person to government—and that the roots of liberal social thought did not lie in past politics or classical theories of government, but to the first writings on the free-market economy (Appleby 1992, 166-167). Appleby also quotes English economist Charles Davenant, as he went further and connected the setting of prices and the law of self-preservation, in so saying that the “Naturall [sic] course of trade, each commodity will find its price,” going further, that “the supreme power can do many things, but it cannot alter the Laws of Nature of which the most original is, that every man should preserve himself” (Appleby 1992, 169). In many senses, there was something moral represented in every economic act. If we explore these premises (of Madison and Appleby), we can see how the market has the ability to cause social tensions and affect political life. We can also reasonably agree that those who were more suited to understand the mechanics of the market are able to exact better ends from their means and acquire more than those who do not.

Taking this notion of private property and the market—seen by many as having its own moral force—growing to influence political life from at least the late 17th century—we can begin to see a place where the classical articulation of formal of ethics—the formal imperative lies—in the free-market as it had the jurisdiction to play into Madison’s reasoning for factions and various political interests coming out of the dynamics of ownership. This situation proposes an interesting scenario on a society premised on republicanism. If the free-market is seen as a natural entity within which those who are more aware of its machinery can benefit and acquire more than those who do not, from where will the protections from faction emerge but within government and from where but governmental institutions can protections be secured? What is to keep the masters of the market from gaining overwhelming control of the very institutions that were created to check power? And what is to keep people engaged in the political process as they are crowded out by powerful interests? Concerning the formal imperative, Badiou walks away from it because there is no general principle that separates good will from bad. In fact, he calls this scenario of formal imperative (in this case, the market being seen as a moral arbiter where standards of rationality emerge) “subjective liberty.”

This republican spirit fused with commercialism is certainly not new to history. Late 16th century Venice as depicted by William Shakespeare in The Merchant of Venice allows us to see some of the social effects of Republicanism when mingled with commercialism. The first interesting parallel of 16th century Venice to what would become the United States is that there existed strong religious sentiments. Each professing doctrines of how life should be lived while on earth with special attention to the hereafter. Many authors of high esteem have produced work of such high caliber on this era of history that I dare not speak after them, but I do feel it necessary to make a point of connection. My argument here is that of Allan Bloom’s, which is to say that in the United States, like in Venice, republicanism had to overcome a religious question. This dealt mainly with how to teach people to deal with the here and now rather than to the hereafter (Bloom 1996, 15). This commercial spirit was perhaps a moderating factor from which toleration had to emerge so all involved in the society could benefit (though some more than others). In other words, the State had to become tolerant to be able to embrace in a stable order, men of widely differing beliefs (Bloom 1996, 15). In the play, the main conflict is between Shylock, a Jewish moneylender, and Antonio, a Christian merchant whose love for his friend Bassanio, who needs money in order to embark on a voyage to find a good match for himself, leads him to sign a contract with Shylock. Shylock does not care for the man or his interest, but through them he can profit for himself. What he does is neither noble nor generous, but it is not unjust (Bloom 1996, 19). As Badiou says, in this formal conception, where there is no formal law/imperative to separate good will from bad, shows us a point where the ethical tensions between Shylock and Antonio originate. Under the contract signed by Antonio, Shylock would extract a pound of flesh if the debt could not be repaid. It is Antonio’s basic understanding or gravitation towards life that leads him to contract with shylock in the first place, who doesn’t appear to have that same view.

This is the point where the formal imperative collapses if one was had to begin with. However, the two men are linked by money. Antonio must borrow from Shylock and this is done under contract not bound by good faith (Bloom 1996, 20) leading us to a testament as to how opposed the two men are in conceiving of the same humanity they operate under. “I will buy with you, sell with you, talke with you, walke with you, and so following: but I will not eate with you, drinke with you, nor pray with you” (Act I, Scene III). Upon this point we can begin to realize the depth of James Madison’s words in the Federalist 10. If republicanism, as understood to be where all can live in liberty and security, was to overcome the religious question, a mechanism was needed to involve those who would rather focus on the hereafter to be involved in the here and now. The development of the free-market effectively or abortively provided such a mechanism and established the foundation for simple toleration under various intentions (as we see with Shylock and Antonio). Under consumerism, people are allowed to gain and claim ownership and are almost compelled to engage society in order to preserve their lot. It is upon this dynamic that we see the possible development of faction. It is perhaps under these influences that Madison puts forth the argument that the causes of faction cannot be removed, but the effects must be controlled.

Madison defines faction as
“…a number of citizens, whether amounting to a majority or minority of the whole, who are united and actuated by some common impulse of passion, or of interest, adverse to the rights of other citizens, or the permanent and aggregate interests of the community.”

We are now left to consider when a faction consists of less than or more than the majority. To cure the problem of faction by a majority, Madison suggests that the principle of a Republic, that of which the scheme of representation takes place, instead of a Democracy. He says the effect of this difference is

“[T]o refine and enlarge the public view, by passing them through the medium of a chosen body of citizens, whose wisdom may best discern the true interest of their country, and whose patriotism and love of justice, will be least likely to sacrifice it to temporary or partial considerations.”

Madison believes that under these conditions, the public will pronounced by representatives will provide more positive ailment than if the people themselves gather for the purpose. To be sure, Madison was aware of the possibility that there could be those of “factitious tempers” or “sinister designs” could by intrigue, corruption or other means obtain the confidence of the people and betray the public interest. To this he reveals that a larger Republic is better than a smaller one where representatives will be limited to a certain number and will be chosen by a larger number of people. His reasoning is as such,

“Extend the sphere, and you take in a greater variety of parties and interests; you make it less probable that a majority of the whole will have a common motive to invade the rights of other citizens; […] if such a common motive exists, it will be more difficult for all who feel it do discover their own strength, and to act in unison with each other.”

Tempted, I feel as though there is room to extrapolate to republican governments this notion of formal ethics under a formal imperative as an attempt to establish what is good or bad. For Madison’s Republic, it is stocked in the very principle of republicanism which takes for granted that which compels people to engage, en masse, in political society. In other words, perhaps Madison did not or could not articulate an organizing principle for his Republic that would connect all involved and was only left with that spirit of consumerism we visited in 16th century Venice which is, by his words, is the cause of faction and consequently, its remedy if somehow rerouted. Perhaps it is on this point where Badiou’s Ethics of Singularity has promise. He calls for one or a society in order to fix an orientation to action or judgment to look at the immediate situation and find a new rule. For Madison, Shylock and Antonio, they each have their beliefs of the organizing principles of society and humanity—whether in the Republican principle, general view of humanity or that of contract or societal law—each strand of formal imperatives seems to be guided by this unifying factor which still does not express how one could or should distinguish good from bad. This is where Badiou says one must also know the geopolitical orientation of the world. In a sense, Badiou asks of us to believe in the world and our relation to it. And for this, we must believe in the concrete lives of people. It is through this action that we can find the goodness or badness in the situations we are confronted.


Appleby, Joyce. 1992. Liberalism and Republicanism in the Historical Imagination. Harvard University Press, March 1.
Bloom, Allan. 1996. Shakespeare's Politics. University Of Chicago Press, December 1.