Sherlock Holmes and the Moral Responsibility of Genius

Contrary to what the show Sherlock – an excellent show when assessed on its own merits, but one which could be criticized as an inaccurate attempt to interpret the titular detective – would have one believe, Sherlock Holmes is not, canonically speaking, a “high-functioning sociopath.” 

Rather, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle deliberately demonstrates through Holmes and his narrator Dr. Watson the degrees of moral responsibility which apply to different levels of skill and/or expertise, eventually coming to the same conclusion as Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben: “With great power comes great responsibility.” 

However, the obligation on Holmes’s shoulders is not, as is the case with Peter Parker, the same set of moral responsibilities as an ordinary person, increased as the person in question develops extraordinary skills. Rather, Conan Doyle views the obligation of genius as transcending typical moral requirements on a large scale while leaving room for them in individual moments.

Conan Doyle presents Watson as such a foil for Holmes that the concept of “one’s being a Watson to another’s Holmes” has become almost a part of standard vernacular. Perhaps the most significant aspect of their difference is that between normality and exception, with Watson portrayed as the ordinary man in contrast with Holmes’s remarkable genius.

One can recognize the import of Watson as the eyes of the audience almost immediately, but what is not as initially obvious is his equally important function as a representation of the character expected of an ordinary person. To use the word “ordinary” is not in any way derogatory, of course; Watson is frequently seen to be an intelligent man and a skilled doctor in his own right, an aspect of the Holmes stories which Sherlock did faithfully adapt (unlike, say, the Basil Rathbone films, which depict Watson as something of a buffoon and little more than a comedic sidekick). 

Indeed, Watson’s notable capabilities form part of the overall picture Conan Doyle seeks to paint: the ordinary person is still in many ways “extraordinary,” despite being often overshadowed by genuine genius.

And what genius it is! There is reason aplenty for the captivating effect of the character of Sherlock Holmes upon the general public. It seems that the Holmes sagas are being perennially adapted in just about every form, as they have been since the 1890s. Conan Doyle aims far higher, though, than to merely create a fascinating character; he also seeks to illuminate what he sees as the moral obligations coterminous with the possession of genius.

This genius, of course, must not be understood solely as the intellectual brilliance of Holmes; rather, Holmes’s intelligence stands in for any particular skill of which an individual may be possessed: this genius could be the musical excellence of Bach and Beethoven, the athletic prowess of Roger Federer and Usain Bolt, the literary virtuosity of Shakespeare, Austen, and Borges, and so much more. Indeed, Holmes is not a one-trick pony: Watson notes that he is adept at boxing and swordsmanship, while also mentioning his capabilities with the violin.

Holmes’s intelligence and observational skills, though, form his trademark, and Conan Doyle sees a burden of responsibility accompanying them. It is as though Holmes must be a detective; he is restless without something to exercise his mind, yet this need for mental activity does not seem to stem from altruistic motivations. On the contrary, it is in Holmes’s very nature to utilize the skills he has, for no other reason than that he has them.

Conan Doyle thus evokes an image of genius as something ingrained in the essence of those who possess it, such that it becomes akin to a purpose or telos for them. This does not yet explain, though, the sense of obligation that accompanies genius. Holmes has moral obligations, to be sure; indeed, Conan Doyle famously depicts his belief in a moral obligation higher than obedience to the law in the story “The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.”
Yet above all such duties is Holmes’s chief duty to work his mind, which is the primary identifiable aspect of his motivation.

An initial glance would suggest an incongruity between Holmes’s moralizing in stories like “Milverton” and his frequent acts of apparent lack of concern for others, acts which, if not immoral, are at least emblematic of an emotional dissociation which does not generally accompany moral beliefs. 

Such an impression, though, would be misleading, for Conan Doyle actually depicts the genius’s need to exercise his or her exceptional capacities as a stronger form of moral obligation.

To recognize this, one must realize that Conan Doyle defines moral obligation in two different ways. Ordinary people, who may be very skilled but lack any exceptional faculty, must conform to the standards of morality which are recognized by their societies, a view evidenced by the Victorian moral orthodoxy which Dr. Watson exemplifies. 

However, it is the blessing and curse of the genius to have a stronger obligation than that, a duty to conform to the skill that is ultimately a part of his or her very nature. The genius must always be using this ability, Conan Doyle proposes, or else pace purposelessly about, as Holmes does when he is in between cases. 

This, then, is the justification for Holmes’s willingness to take cases based on his level of interest in them rather than from some altruistic motive: he must first and foremost use his brilliant mind, and it is as a function or aspect of his doing so that he must obey conventional moral laws.

This is not to imply that a genius like Holmes may be amoral absent any additional incentive; it is rather to indicate that the question of moral action only makes sense within the context of any action, and unlike an ordinary person, the genius is not truly acting unless his or her deeds are in service of his or her exceptional capacity, so essential is said capacity to his or her identity.

In the end, then, the genius has a special moral obligation, according to Conan Doyle, to act in accordance with his or her nature, the fulfillment of which is the only thing that may make sense of his or her life. It is left to us ordinary people to put forth moral postulates for everyday scenarios, recognizing that they may not make sense outside of a framework in which a person’s intrinsic capacities are being actively lived.