On Liberty by John Stuart Mill (1869)
 

            Introductory

THE SUBJECT of this Essay is not the so-called Liberty of the Will, so unfortunately opposed to the misnamed doctrine of
            Philosophical Necessity; but Civil, or Social Liberty: the nature and limits of the power which can be legitimately exercised
            by society over the individual. . .

The struggle between Liberty and Authority is the most conspicuous feature in the portions of history with which we are
            earliest familiar, particularly in that of Greece, Rome, and England. But in old times this contest was between subjects, or
            some classes of subjects, and the Government. By liberty, was meant protection against the tyranny of the political rulers.
            The rulers were conceived (except in some of the popular governments of Greece) as in a necessarily antagonistic position
            to the people whom they ruled. . . .

A time, however, came in the progress of human affairs, when men ceased to think it a necessity of
            nature that their governors should be an independent power, opposed in interest to themselves. It
            appeared to them much better that the various magistrates of the State should be their tenants or
            delegates, revocable at their pleasure. In that way alone, it seemed, could they have complete
            security that the powers of government would never be abused to their disadvantage. By degrees,
            this new demand for elective and temporary rulers became the prominent object of the exertions of
            the popular party, wherever any such party existed; and superseded, to a considerable extent, the
            previous efforts to limit the power of rulers . . .
 

But, in political and philosophical theories, as well as in persons, success discloses faults and
              infirmities which failure might have concealed from observation. The notion, that the people have no
              need to limit their power over themselves, might seem axiomatic, when popular government was a
              thing only dreamed about, or read of as having existed at some distant period of the past. Neither
              was that notion necessarily disturbed by such temporary aberrations as those of the French
              Revolution, the worst of which were the work of an usurping few, and which, in any case, belonged,
              not to the permanent working of popular institutions, but to a sudden and convulsive outbreak
              against monarchical and aristocratic despotism. In time, however, a democratic republic came to
              occupy a large portion of the earth's surface, and made itself felt as one of the most powerful
              members of the community of nations; and elective and responsible government became subject to
              the observations and criticisms which wait upon a great existing fact. It was now perceived that such
              phrases as "self-government," and "the power of the people over themselves," do not express the
              true state of the case. The "people" who exercise the power, are not always the same people with
              those over whom it is exercised, and the "self-government" spoken of, is not the government of
              each by himself, but of each by all the rest. The will of the people, moreover, practically means, the
              will of the most numerous or the most active part of the people; the majority, or those who succeed
              in making themselves accepted as the majority; the people, consequently, may desire to oppress a
              part of their number; and precautions are as much needed against this, as against any other abuse
              of power. The limitation, therefore, of the power of government over individuals, loses none of its
              importance when the holders of power are regularly accountable to the community, that is, to the
              strongest party therein.  . . .
 
 

The object of this Essay is to assert one very simple principle, as entitled to govern absolutely the
              dealings of society with the individual in the way of compulsion and control, whether the means used
              be physical force in the form of legal penalties, or the moral coercion of public opinion. That principle
              is, that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively in interfering with the
              liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can
              be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm
              to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient warrant. He cannot rightfully be
              compelled to do or forbear because it will be better for him to do so, because it will make him
              happier, because, in the opinions of others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good
              reasons for remonstrating with him, or reasoning with him, or persuading him, or entreating him, but
              not for compelling him, or visiting him with any evil, in case he do otherwise. To justify that, the
              conduct from which it is desired to deter him must be calculated to produce evil to some one else.
              The only part of the conduct of any one, for which he is amenable to society, is that which concerns
              others. In the part which merely concerns himself, his independence is, of right, absolute. Over
              himself, over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign.

It is, perhaps, hardly necessary to say that this doctrine is meant to apply only to human beings in
              the maturity of their faculties. We are not speaking of children, or of young persons below the age
              which the law may fix as that of manhood or womanhood. Those who are still in a state to require
              being taken care of by others, must be protected against their own actions as well as against
              external injury. For the same reason, we may leave out of consideration those backward states of
              society in which the race itself may be considered as in its nonage. The early difficulties in the way of
              spontaneous progress are so great, that there is seldom any choice of means for overcoming them;
              and a ruler full of the spirit of improvement is warranted in the use of any expedients that will attain
              an end, perhaps otherwise unattainable. Despotism is a legitimate mode of government in dealing
              with barbarians, provided the end be their improvement, and the means justified by actually effecting
              that end. Liberty, as a principle, has no application to any state of things anterior to the time when
              mankind have become capable of being improved by free and equal discussion. Until then, there is
              nothing for them but implicit obedience to an Akbar or a Charlemagne, if they are so fortunate as to
              find one. But as soon as mankind have attained the capacity of being guided to their own
              improvement by conviction or persuasion (a period long since reached in all nations with whom we
              need here concern ourselves), compulsion, either in the direct form or in that of pains and penalties
              for non-compliance, is no longer admissible as a means to their own good, and justifiable only for
              the security of others.

It is proper to state that I forego any advantage which could be derived to my argument from the
              idea of abstract right as a thing independent of utility. I regard utility as the ultimate appeal on all
              ethical questions; but it must be utility in the largest sense, grounded on the permanent interests of
              man as a progressive being. Those interests, I contend, authorize the subjection of individual
              spontaneity to external control, only in respect to those actions of each, which concern the interest of
              other people. If any one does an act hurtful to others, there is a prima facie case for punishing him,
              by law, or, where legal penalties are not safely applicable, by general disapprobation. There are also
              many positive acts for the benefit of others, which he may rightfully be compelled to perform; such
              as, to give evidence in a court of justice; to bear his fair share in the common defence, or in any
              other joint work necessary to the interest of the society of which he enjoys the protection; and to
              perform certain acts of individual beneficence, such as saving a fellow-creature's life, or interposing to
              protect the defenceless against ill-usage, things which whenever it is obviously a man's duty to do,
              he may rightfully be made responsible to society for not doing. A person may cause evil to others not
              only by his actions but by his inaction, and in neither case he is justly accountable to them for the
              injury. The latter case, it is true, requires a much more cautious exercise of compulsion than the
              former. . .
 

This, then, is the appropriate region of human liberty. It comprises, first, the inward domain of consciousness; demanding liberty of conscience, in
              the most comprehensive sense; liberty of thought and feeling; absolute freedom of opinion and
              sentiment on all subjects, practical or speculative, scientific, moral, or theological. The liberty of
              expressing and publishing opinions may seem to fall under a different principle, since it belongs to
              that part of the conduct of an individual which concerns other people; but, being almost of as much
              importance as the liberty of thought itself, and resting in great part on the same reasons, is
              practically inseparable from it. Secondly, the principle requires liberty of tastes and pursuits; of
              framing the plan of our life to suit our own character; of doing as we like, subject to such
              consequences as may follow; without impediment from our fellow-creatures, so long as what we do
              does not harm them even though they should think our conduct foolish, perverse, or wrong. Thirdly,
              from this liberty of each individual, follows the liberty, within the same limits, of combination among
              individuals; freedom to unite, for any purpose not involving harm to others: the persons combining
              being supposed to be of full age, and not forced or deceived.

No society in which these liberties are not, on the whole, respected, is free, whatever may be its form
              of government; and none is completely free in which they do not exist absolute and unqualified. The
              only freedom which deserves the name, is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as
              we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to obtain it. Each is the proper
              guardian of his own health, whether bodily, or mental or spiritual. . .
 

                        Of Individuality, As One of the Elements of Well-Being
 

No one pretends that actions should be as free as opinions. On
              the contrary, even opinions lose their immunity, when the circumstances in which they are expressed
              are such as to constitute their expression a positive instigation to some mischievous act. An opinion
              that corn-dealers are starvers of the poor, or that private property is robbery, ought to be
              unmolested when simply circulated through the press, but may justly incur punishment when
              delivered orally to an excited mob assembled before the house of a corn-dealer, or when handed
              about among the same mob in the form of a placard. Acts of whatever kind, which, without justifiable
              cause, do harm to others, may be, and in the more important cases absolutely require to be,
              controlled by the unfavorable sentiments, and, when needful, by the active interference of mankind.
              The liberty of the individual must be thus far limited; he must not make himself a nuisance to other
              people. But if he refrains from molesting others in what concerns them, and merely acts according to
              his own inclination and judgment in things which concern himself, the same reasons which show that
              opinion should be free, prove also that he should be allowed, without molestation, to carry his
              opinions into practice at his own cost. That mankind are not infallible; that their truths, for the most
              part, are only half-truths; that unity of opinion, unless resulting from the fullest and freest
              comparison of opposite opinions, is not desirable, and diversity not an evil, but a good, until
              mankind are much more capable than at present of recognizing all sides of the truth, are principles
              applicable to men's modes of action, not less than to their opinions. As it is useful that while
              mankind are imperfect there should be different opinions, so is it that there should be different
              experiments of living; that free scope should be given to varieties of character, short of injury to
              others; and that the worth of different modes of life should be proved practically, when any one
              thinks fit to try them. It is desirable, in short, that in things which do not primarily concern others,
              individuality should assert itself. Where, not the person's own character, but the traditions of customs
              of other people are the rule of conduct, there is wanting one of the principal ingredients of human
              happiness, and quite the chief ingredient of individual and social progress.

In maintaining this principle, the greatest difficulty to be encountered does not lie in the appreciation
              of means towards an acknowledged end, but in the indifference of persons in general to the end
              itself. If it were felt that the free development of individuality is one of the leading essentials of
              well-being; that it is not only a coordinate element with all that is designated by the terms
              civilization, instruction, education, culture, but is itself a necessary part and condition of all those
              things; there would be no danger that liberty should be undervalued, and the adjustment of the
              boundaries between it and social control would present no extraordinary difficulty. But the evil is, that
              individual spontaneity is hardly recognized by the common modes of thinking as having any intrinsic
              worth, or deserving any regard on its own account. . . .
 

Few persons, out of Germany, even comprehend the meaning of the doctrine which Wilhelm von Humboldt, so eminent both as a savant
              and as a politician, made the text of a treatise--that "the end of man, or that which is prescribed by
              the eternal or immutable dictates of reason, and not suggested by vague and transient desires, is
              the highest and most harmonious development of his powers to a complete and consistent whole;"
              that, therefore, the object "towards which every human being must ceaselessly direct his efforts, and
              on which especially those who design to influence their fellow-men must ever keep their eyes, is the
              individuality of power and development;" that for this there are two requisites, "freedom, and a
              variety of situations;" and that from the union of these arise "individual vigor and manifold diversity,"
              which combine themselves in "originality."
 

He who lets the world, or his own portion of it, choose his plan of life for him, has no need of any
              other faculty than the ape-like one of imitation. He who chooses his plan for himself, employs all his
              faculties. He must use observation to see, reasoning and judgment to foresee, activity to gather
              materials for decision, discrimination to decide, and when he has decided, firmness and self-control
              to hold to his deliberate decision. And these qualities he requires and exercises exactly in proportion
              as the part of his conduct which he determines according to his own judgment and feelings is a large
              one. It is possible that he might be guided in some good path, and kept out of harm's way, without
              any of these things. But what will be his comparative worth as a human being? It really is of
              importance, not only what men do, but also what manner of men they are that do it. Among the
              works of man, which human life is rightly employed in perfecting and beautifying, the first in
              importance surely is man himself. Supposing it were possible to get houses built, corn grown, battles
              fought, causes tried, and even churches erected and prayers said, by machinery--by automatons in
              human form--it would be a considerable loss to exchange for these automatons even the men and
              women who at present inhabit the more civilized parts of the world, and who assuredly are but
              starved specimens of what nature can and will produce. Human nature is not a machine to be built
              after a model, and set to do exactly the work prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and
              develop itself on all sides, according to the tendency of the inward forces which make it a living thing. . .
 
 

But society has now fairly got the better of individuality . . . In our times, from the highest
              class of society down to the lowest every one lives as under the eye of a hostile and dreaded
              censorship. Not only in what concerns others, but in what concerns only themselves, the individual, or
              the family, do not ask themselves--what do I prefer? or, what would suit my character and
              disposition? or, what would allow the best and highest in me to have fair play, and enable it to grow
              and thrive? They ask themselves, what is suitable to my position? what is usually done by persons of
              my station and pecuniary circumstances? or (worse still) what is usually done by persons of a station
              and circumstances superior to mine? I do not mean that they choose what is customary, in
              preference to what suits their own inclination. It does not occur to them to have any inclination,
              except for what is customary. Thus the mind itself is bowed to the yoke: even in what people do for
              pleasure, conformity is the first thing thought of; they like in crowds; they exercise choice only
              among things commonly done: peculiarity of taste, eccentricity of conduct, are shunned equally with
              crimes: until by dint of not following their own nature, they have no nature to follow: their human
              capacities are withered and starved: they become incapable of any strong wishes or native pleasures,
              and are generally without either opinions or feelings of home growth, or properly their own. Now is
              this, or is it not, the desirable condition of human nature?
 

               Of the Limits to the Authority of Society over the Individual
 
 

Though society is not founded on a contract, and though no good purpose is answered by inventing a
              contract in order to deduce social obligations from it, every one who receives the protection of society
              owes a return for the benefit, and the fact of living in society renders it indispensable that each
              should be bound to observe a certain line of conduct towards the rest. This conduct consists, first, in
              not injuring the interests of one another; or rather certain interests, which, either by express legal
              provision or by tacit understanding, ought to be considered as rights; and secondly, in each person's
              bearing his share (to be fixed on some equitable principle) of the labors and sacrifices incurred for
              defending the society or its members from injury and molestation. These conditions society is
              justified in enforcing, at all costs to those who endeavor to withhold fulfilment. Nor is this all that
              society may do. The acts of an individual may be hurtful to others, or wanting in due consideration
              for their welfare, without going the length of violating any of their constituted rights. The offender
              may then be justly punished by opinion, though not by law. As soon as any part of a person's
              conduct affects prejudicially the interests of others, society has jurisdiction over it, and the question
              whether the general welfare will or will not be promoted by interfering with it, becomes open to
              discussion. But there is no room for entertaining any such question when a person's conduct affects
              the interests of no persons besides himself, or needs not affect them unless they like (all the
              persons concerned being of full age, and the ordinary amount of understanding). In all such cases
              there should be perfect freedom, legal and social, to do the action and stand the consequences.

It would be a great misunderstanding of this doctrine, to suppose that it is one of selfish
              indifference, which pretends that human beings have no business with each other's conduct in life,
              and that they should not concern themselves about the well-doing or well-being of one another,
              unless their own interest is involved. Instead of any diminution, there is need of a great increase of
              disinterested exertion to promote the good of others. But disinterested benevolence can find other
              instruments to persuade people to their good, than whips and scourges, either of the literal or the
              metaphorical sort. I am the last person to undervalue the self-regarding virtues; they are only
              second in importance, if even second, to the social. It is equally the business of education to
              cultivate both. But even education works by conviction and persuasion as well as by compulsion, and
              it is by the former only that, when the period of education is past, the self-regarding virtues should
              be inculcated. Human beings owe to each other help to distinguish the better from the worse, and
              encouragement to choose the former and avoid the latter. They should be forever stimulating each
              other to increased exercise of their higher faculties, and increased direction of their feelings and aims
              towards wise instead of foolish, elevating instead of degrading, objects and contemplations. But
              neither one person, nor any number of persons, is warranted in saying to another human creature of
              ripe years, that he shall not do with his life for his own benefit what he chooses to do with it. He is the
              person most interested in his own well-being, the interest which any other person, except in cases of
              strong personal attachment, can have in it, is trifling, compared with that which he himself has; the
              interest which society has in him individually (except as to his conduct to others) is fractional, and
              altogether indirect: while, with respect to his own feelings and circumstances, the most ordinary man
              or woman has means of knowledge immeasurably surpassing those that can be possessed by any
              one else. The interference of society to overrule his judgment and purposes in what only regards
              himself, must be grounded on general presumptions; which may be altogether wrong, and even if
              right, are as likely as not to be misapplied to individual cases, by persons no better acquainted with
              the circumstances of such cases than those are who look at them merely from without. In this
              department, therefore, of human affairs, Individuality has its proper field of action. In the conduct of
              human beings towards one another, it is necessary that general rules should for the most part be
              observed, in order that people may know what they have to expect; but in each person's own
              concerns, his individual spontaneity is entitled to free exercise. Considerations to aid his judgment,
              exhortations to strengthen his will, may be offered to him, even obtruded on him, by others; but he,
              himself, is the final judge. All errors which he is likely to commit against advice and warning, are far
              outweighed by the evil of allowing others to constrain him to what they deem his good. . .
 

Though doing no wrong to any one, a person may so act as to compel us to judge him, and feel to
              him, as a fool, or as a being of an inferior order: and since this judgment and feeling are a fact which
              he would prefer to avoid, it is doing him a service to warn him of it beforehand, as of any other
              disagreeable consequence to which he exposes himself. It would be well, indeed, if this good office
              were much more freely rendered than the common notions of politeness at present permit, and if
              one person could honestly point out to another that he thinks him in fault, without being considered
              unmannerly or presuming. We have a right, also, in various ways, to act upon our unfavorable
              opinion of any one, not to the oppression of his individuality, but in the exercise of ours. We are not
              bound, for example, to seek his society; we have a right to avoid it (though not to parade the
              avoidance), for we have a right to choose the society most acceptable to us. We have a right, and it
              may be our duty, to caution others against him, if we think his example or conversation likely to
              have a pernicious effect on those with whom he associates. We may give others a preference over
              him in optional good offices, except those which tend to his improvement. In these various modes a
              person may suffer very severe penalties at the hands of others, for faults which directly concern only
              himself; but he suffers these penalties only in so far as they are the natural, and, as it were, the
              spontaneous consequences of the faults themselves, not because they are purposely inflicted on him
              for the sake of punishment. . .
 

What I contend for is, that the inconveniences which are strictly inseparable from the unfavorable
              judgment of others, are the only ones to which a person should ever be subjected for that portion of
              his conduct and character which concerns his own good, but which does not affect the interests of
              others in their relations with him. Acts injurious to others require a totally different treatment.
              Encroachment on their rights; infliction on them of any loss or damage not justified by his own rights;
              falsehood or duplicity in dealing with them; unfair or ungenerous use of advantages over them; even
              selfish abstinence from defending them against injury--these are fit objects of moral reprobation,
              and, in grave cases, of moral retribution and punishment. And not only these acts, but the
              dispositions which lead to them, are properly immoral, and fit subjects of disapprobation which may
              rise to abhorrence. . .

The distinction here pointed out between the part of a person's life which concerns only himself, and
              that which concerns others, many persons will refuse to admit. How (it may be asked) can any part of
              the conduct of a member of society be a matter of indifference to the other members? No person is
              an entirely isolated being; it is impossible for a person to do anything seriously or permanently
              hurtful to himself, without mischief reaching at least to his near connections, and often far beyond
              them. If he injures his property, he does harm to those who directly or indirectly derived support from
              it, and usually diminishes, by a greater or less amount, the general resources of the community. If
              he deteriorates his bodily or mental faculties, he not only brings evil upon all who depended on him
              for any portion of their happiness, but disqualifies himself for rendering the services which he owes to
              his fellow-creatures generally; perhaps becomes a burden on their affection or benevolence; and if
              such conduct were very frequent, hardly any offence that is committed would detract more from the
              general sum of good. Finally, if by his vices or follies a person does no direct harm to others, he is
              nevertheless (it may be said) injurious by his example; and ought to be compelled to control
              himself, for the sake of those whom the sight or knowledge of his conduct might corrupt or mislead.

And even (it will be added) if the consequences of misconduct could be confined to the vicious or
              thoughtless individual, ought society to abandon to their own guidance those who are manifestly unfit
              for it? If protection against themselves is confessedly due to children and persons under age, is not
              society equally bound to afford it to persons of mature years who are equally incapable of
              self-government? If gambling, or drunkenness, or incontinence, or idleness, or uncleanliness, are as
              injurious to happiness, and as great a hindrance to improvement, as many or most of the acts
              prohibited by law, why (it may be asked) should not law, so far as is consistent with practicability and
              social convenience, endeavor to repress these also? And as a supplement to the unavoidable
              imperfections of law, ought not opinion at least to organize a powerful police against these vices, and
              visit rigidly with social penalties those who are known to practise them? There is no question here (it
              may be said) about restricting individuality, or impeding the trial of new and original experiments in
              living. The only things it is sought to prevent are things which have been tried and condemned from
              the beginning of the world until now; things which experience has shown not to be useful or suitable
              to any person's individuality. There must be some length of time and amount of experience, after
              which a moral or prudential truth may be regarded as established, and it is merely desired to prevent
              generation after generation from falling over the same precipice which has been fatal to their
              predecessors.

I fully admit that the mischief which a person does to himself, may seriously affect, both through
              their sympathies and their interests, those nearly connected with him, and in a minor degree, society
              at large. When, by conduct of this sort, a person is led to violate a distinct and assignable obligation
              to any other person or persons, the case is taken out of the self-regarding class, and becomes
              amenable to moral disapprobation in the proper sense of the term. If, for example, a man, through
              intemperance or extravagance, becomes unable to pay his debts, or, having undertaken the moral
              responsibility of a family, becomes from the same cause incapable of supporting or educating them,
              he is deservedly reprobated, and might be justly punished; but it is for the breach of duty to his
              family or creditors, not for the extravagance. If the resources which ought to have been devoted to
              them, had been diverted from them for the most prudent investment, the moral culpability would
              have been the same. George Barnwell murdered his uncle to get money for his mistress, but if he
              had done it to set himself up in business, he would equally have been hanged. Again, in the
              frequent case of a man who causes grief to his family by addiction to bad habits, he deserves
              reproach for his unkindness or ingratitude; but so he may for cultivating habits not in themselves
              vicious, if they are painful to those with whom he passes his life, or who from personal ties are
              dependent on him for their comfort. Whoever fails in the consideration generally due to the interests
              and feelings of others, not being compelled by some more imperative duty, or justified by allowable
              self-preference, is a subject of moral disapprobation for that failure, but not for the cause of it, nor
              for the errors, merely personal to himself, which may have remotely led to it. In like manner, when a
              person disables himself, by conduct purely self-regarding, from the performance of some definite
              duty incumbent on him to the public, he is guilty of a social offence. No person ought to be punished
              simply for being drunk; but a soldier or a policeman should be punished for being drunk on duty.
              Whenever, in short, there is a definite damage, or a definite risk of damage, either to an individual
              or to the public, the case is taken out of the province of liberty, and placed in that of morality or law.

But with regard to the merely contingent or, as it may be called, constructive injury which a person
              causes to society, by conduct which neither violates any specific duty to the public, nor occasions
              perceptible hurt to any assignable individual except himself; the inconvenience is one which society
              can afford to bear, for the sake of the greater good of human freedom. If grown persons are to be
              punished for not taking proper care of themselves, I would rather it were for their own sake, than
              under pretence of preventing them from impairing their capacity of rendering to society benefits which
              society does not pretend it has a right to exact. But I cannot consent to argue the point as if society
              had no means of bringing its weaker members up to its ordinary standard of rational conduct, except
              waiting till they do something irrational, and then punishing them, legally or morally, for it. Society
              has had absolute power over them during all the early portion of their existence: it has had the whole
              period of childhood and nonage in which to try whether it could make them capable of rational
              conduct in life. The existing generation is master both of the training and the entire circumstances of
              the generation to come; it cannot indeed make them perfectly wise and good, because it is itself so
              lamentably deficient in goodness and wisdom; and its best efforts are not always, in individual cases,
              its most successful ones; but it is perfectly well able to make the rising generation, as a whole, as
              good as, and a little better than, itself. If society lets any considerable number of its members grow
              up mere children, incapable of being acted on by rational consideration of distant motives, society
              has itself to blame for the consequences. Armed not only with all the powers of education, but with
              the ascendency which the authority of a received opinion always exercises over the minds who are
              least fitted to judge for themselves; and aided by the natural penalties which cannot be prevented
              from falling on those who incur the distaste or the contempt of those who know them; let not society
              pretend that it needs, besides all this, the power to issue commands and enforce obedience in the
              personal concerns of individuals, in which, on all principles of justice and policy, the decision ought to
              rest with those who are to abide the consequences. Nor is there anything which tends more to
              discredit and frustrate the better means of influencing conduct, than a resort to the worse. If there be
              among those whom it is attempted to coerce into prudence or temperance, any of the material of
              which vigorous and independent characters are made, they will infallibly rebel against the yoke. No
              such person will ever feel that others have a right to control him in his concerns, such as they have to
              prevent him from injuring them in theirs; and it easily comes to be considered a mark of spirit and
              courage to fly in the face of such usurped authority, and do with ostentation the exact opposite of
              what it enjoins; as in the fashion of grossness which succeeded, in the time of Charles II., to the
              fanatical moral intolerance of the Puritans. With respect to what is said of the necessity of protecting
              society from the bad example set to others by the vicious or the self-indulgent; it is true that bad
              example may have a pernicious effect, especially the example of doing wrong to others with impunity
              to the wrong-doer. But we are now speaking of conduct which, while it does no wrong to others, is
              supposed to do great harm to the agent himself: and I do not see how those who believe this, can
              think otherwise than that the example, on the whole, must be more salutary than hurtful, since, if it
              displays the misconduct, it displays also the painful or degrading consequences which, if the conduct
              is justly censured, must be supposed to be in all or most cases attendant on it.

But the strongest of all the arguments against the interference of the public with purely personal
              conduct, is that when it does interfere, the odds are that it interferes wrongly, and in the wrong place.
              On questions of social morality, of duty to others, the opinion of the public, that is, of an overruling
              majority, though often wrong, is likely to be still oftener right; because on such questions they are
              only required to judge of their own interests; of the manner in which some mode of conduct, if
              allowed to be practised, would affect themselves. But the opinion of a similar majority, imposed as a
              law on the minority, on questions of self-regarding conduct, is quite as likely to be wrong as right; for
              in these cases public opinion means, at the best, some people's opinion of what is good or bad for
              other people; while very often it does not even mean that; the public, with the most perfect
              indifference, passing over the pleasure or convenience of those whose conduct they censure, and
              considering only their own preference. There are many who consider as an injury to themselves any
              conduct which they have a distaste for, and resent it as an outrage to their feelings; as a religious
              bigot, when charged with disregarding the religious feelings of others, has been known to retort that
              they disregard his feelings, by persisting in their abominable worship or creed. But there is no parity
              between the feeling of a person for his own opinion, and the feeling of another who is offended at his
              holding it; no more than between the desire of a thief to take a purse, and the desire of the right
              owner to keep it. And a person's taste is as much his own peculiar concern as his opinion or his
              purse. It is easy for any one to imagine an ideal public, which leaves the freedom and choice of
              individuals in all uncertain matters undisturbed, and only requires them to abstain from modes of
              conduct which universal experience has condemned. But where has there been seen a public which
              set any such limit to its censorship? or when does the public trouble itself about universal experience.
              In its interferences with personal conduct it is seldom thinking of anything but the enormity of acting
              or feeling differently from itself . . .
 

            Applications

It is a proper office of public authority to guard against accidents. If either a public officer or any one else saw a person
              attempting to cross a bridge which had been ascertained to be unsafe, and there were no time to
              warn him of his danger, they might seize him and turn him back without any real infringement of his
              liberty; for liberty consists in doing what one desires, and he does not desire to fall into the river.
              Nevertheless, when there is not a certainty, but only a danger of mischief, no one but the person
              himself can judge of the sufficiency of the motive which may prompt him to incur the risk: in this
              case, therefore, (unless he is a child, or delirious, or in some state of excitement or absorption
              incompatible with the full use of the reflecting faculty,) he ought, I conceive, to be only warned of the
              danger; not forcibly prevented from exposing himself to it.   . .
 
 

In this and most other civilized countries, for example, an engagement by which a person should sell himself, or allow himself to be
              sold, as a slave, would be null and void; neither enforced by law nor by opinion. The ground for thus
              limiting his power of voluntarily disposing of his own lot in life, is apparent, and is very clearly seen in
              this extreme case. The reason for not interfering, unless for the sake of others, with a person's
              voluntary acts, is consideration for his liberty. His voluntary choice is evidence that what he so
              chooses is desirable, or at the least endurable, to him, and his good is on the whole best provided
              for by allowing him to take his own means of pursuing it. But by selling himself for a slave, he
              abdicates his liberty; he foregoes any future use of it, beyond that single act. He therefore defeats,
              in his own case, the very purpose which is the justification of allowing him to dispose of himself. He is
              no longer free; but is thenceforth in a position which has no longer the presumption in its favor, that
              would be afforded by his voluntarily remaining in it. The principle of freedom cannot require that he
              should be free not to be free. It is not freedom, to be allowed to alienate his freedom. . . .