Sunday, August 30, 2020

Overview of Moral Theories

 



As we study and engage in moral philosophy, we need to appreciate some of the different moral theories that people bring up as they try to persuade us what we ought to do.

Recall from my previous post (What is Morality?) that morality is what we call upon to evaluate other norms such as legal, social, and religious norms.  Whenever we make a moral judgment, such as that capital punishment is wrong, or that it is justifiable, it makes sense to ask why.  Why do you think that?  Why should I believe you?  What are your reasons or arguments for your position? 

Answers to these questions usually at least implicitly invoke moral principles, of varying levels of generality.  Moral behavior and moral policies are principled when, and because, they are supported by good reasons which explain why we ought to do one thing rather than another.  But even if we restrict our attention to the principles that serve as good reasons for action, we must consider what to do when such principles conflict.  What are we to do, for example, when one principle calls us to be beneficent and another principle alleges that that would be unfair? 

This is the role of moral theories: to adjudicate conflicts between moral principles. 

It is helpful if we distinguish moral theories by their methods of resolving controversies.  Whenever two people disagree about right or wrong, or whenever two principles conflict by giving us different directions (e.g., one says ‘Do it!’ and the other says ‘Don’t do it!), we need an arbiter to decide between them or else the controversy will remain unresolved. 

Moral theories propose fundamental explanations of the answers to moral questions, and so they purport to have the last word.  There is no further explanation for why we ought to do what we ought to do.

 

Utilitarianism is a famous example.  The utilitarians claim that any moral controversy can be resolved with certain factual information about the effects of our actions, information about how our actions affect others.  They claim that there is one fundamental moral principle: to promote the interests of everyone affected by our actions as much as possible.  This is often referred to as the ‘principle of utility.’

The utilitarian method of resolving moral controversies appeals solely to the benefits and harms that would be produced by whatever actions or policies we are to choose between.  The dispute over a policy of capital punishment, for example, would be resolved by determining whether it would bring more benefit or prevent more harm than not having that policy. 

 

Egoism is often mentioned as another moral theory.  Like utilitarianism, it appeals only to the future effects of an action or policy, but egoism is not interested in how others’ interests are affected.  Only one’s own interests matter, according to the egoist.  The dispute over capital punishment would then be resolved by predicting the effect on one’s self-interest.  

Surely, however, that is a strange method of resolving the controversy.  Egoism seems like a nonstarter if it is understood as a moral theory.  Instead, it is better understood as a skeptical position on which there is no morality – nothing to arbitrate moral controversies.  With no moral reasons applying to us, the egoist says we are to make decisions based only on our self-interest.

 

A different kind of moral theory often called contractarianism claims that the one fundamental moral principle is to honor contracts.  Essentially, this means keeping your word, doing what you say you will do.  The relevant sense of ‘contract’ is meant to be broad enough to include both formal and informal agreements, promises, covenants, and the like. 

Of course, we can ask: what is good about honoring contracts?  I take it the answer is that people ought to be free to decide for themselves what they will do and how they will relate to others.  No one obligates them unless they do so themselves.  But then I wonder if it is really the norm to respect individual freedom that contractarians want to propose as the sole fundamental moral principle.  This leads us to the influential moral theory of Immanuel Kant.

 

Kantianism is best remembered as the theory on which morality reduces to respecting the autonomy of persons.  ‘Never treat others as merely a means to your ends.  Always treat them as ends-in-themselves’ - that's the most memorable formulation of Kant’s proposed fundamental moral principle (which he called ‘the categorical imperative’).  Autonomy is the basis of human dignity and the source of moral reasons, according to Kantians.

 

Notice that every theory mentioned so far has something in common.  They all propose a single fundamental moral principle that is supposed to resolve any moral controversy, by implying the answer to any moral question once the relevant factual information is provided.  (Which factual information is relevant is itself selected for by the proposed principle.  Utilitarians claim it is information about the interests of everyone affected, contractarians claim it is information about what was agreed to, etc.)

 

A pluralist moral theory is distinguished by proposing that more than one moral principle is fundamental, so that all moral controversies are to be resolved by appeal to a plurality of principles.  The different versions of pluralism differ over which principles they claim are fundamental.  Some claim there are two such principles: Beneficence and Justice.  Others claim there are more: the Oxford philosopher W. D. Ross famously proposed seven principles to serve as the foundations of ethics.  Pluralists will agree, however, that whenever we face a controversy over what to do, or which policy to approve, we ought to resolve it by appeal to a plurality of fundamental moral principles. 

This leads to a perplexing question that haunts every pluralist theory: what are we to do when the principles proposed by a pluralist themselves give us conflicting directions?  When Beneficence says to help, but Justice says to refrain from helping, the pluralist theory on which those are the two fundamental moral principles seems unable to resolve the controversy.  Moreover, it seems impossible for pluralism to resolve the controversy in a principled way.  For if we were to say that whenever those two principles conflict it is Justice that should be followed, it seems we would thereby propose that Justice is more fundamental, and so there would be a single fundamental moral principle after all (and thus we would no longer be pluralists). 

In response to this question about conflict between their proposed principles, it seems that pluralists have to give an unprincipled answer.  They might say that we can know in particular scenarios which principle to follow, but that there is no general answer. 

 

There are also moral theories that liberate themselves from moral principles.  Implicit in every theory mentioned so far is the idea that we need to consult a moral principle if we are to resolve moral controversies.  But this can be doubted.

Particularists claim that we can intuit what we are to do in particular situations without reference to a principle that applies to other situations.

Virtue ethicists claim that we should focus more on being good people rather than on what to do or which policies to approve.  Good people know what to do, but their knowledge doesn’t consist in knowing which rules to follow or principles to apply, according to virtue ethicists. 

Some feminists see the focus on principles and rules as a mistaken presupposition embedded in a male way of thinking. 

Some thinkers would even endorse a non-theoretical approach to morality, so that it is mistaken to look for a moral theory in the first place. 

An initial challenge for this diverse group of anti-principled approaches to ethics pertains to distinguishing their preferred approaches from an unthinking, irrational or gut-reaction method of resolving moral controversies.  Someone might answer ‘yes’ to the question about whether capital punishment is wrong without having any reasons at all for choosing ‘yes’ rather than ‘no’.  But surely it makes sense to ask for good reasons there, doesn’t it?  Morality concerns serious matters of life and death, in some cases.  If we reject the need to give principled answers, are we also rejecting the need to have good reasons supporting our moral judgments?

 

Finally, there is the question of how we are to decide between these moral theories, or others, since they give us conflicting directions about which principles to follow (or whether to follow principles at all).  Each claims that it is the final arbiter.  But which one do we trust? 

The only help we have here is our own psychological powers of discernment.  We have to think critically about these theories, and their implications in particular scenarios, if we are to decide which is the correct one.


What is Morality?

 


                            Detail from Raphael's School of Athens 


It is not so easy to define what morality is.  It’s easy to say that it’s the study of right and wrong, good and bad.  It’s easy to say that it employs the philosophical methods of rational argument and critical thinking.  It is somewhat harder to say anything substantive about what morality is without getting into controversies.  Perhaps we should simply define morality as the study of controversies over values and norms.  Nevertheless, I hope to convey here a better understanding of what we mean by ‘morality’ when we talk about it in moral philosophy or ethics. 

We’re familiar with talking of a person’s morality, or a culture’s morality, in the sense of the norms or mores they (perhaps implicitly) endorse.  But this is descriptive morality.  It’s what an anthropologist or sociologist or other empirically minded researcher might investigate by surveying people to find out which norms guide their decisions and judgments.  The philosophical study of morality is focused not on descriptive morality, but instead on normative or prescriptive morality: what we ought to do and why.  

 

It is easier to say what morality is not, than it is to say what it is.  Morality is not the same thing as the law, for example.  What the law requires of us depends on the authoritative acts of legislators and judges, and the history of precedents regarding what the law has been said to be.  It may be illegal, for example, in a certain place and time, for different races to mix in a restaurant.  But that doesn’t make it immoral.  In fact, we can judge such laws to be immoral in spite of their legality.  Likewise, morality is not the same thing as tradition, social conventions, or etiquette, since we can ask critical questions about whether and why we ought to do as tradition, or society, says we ought.  Morality is not the same thing as religion either.  Religion seems to always involve a moral code or value system, but it involves much more, too, like God or other deities, sacred texts, a creation story, gender roles, and more. 

Morality in the normative or prescriptive sense is what we appeal to when we judge that we ought, or ought not, to do what religion, or the law, or tradition, etc., says we ought to do.  Moral norms are what we call upon to evaluate other norms such as legal, social, and religious norms.

 

Once we’ve distinguished morality like this, we have to confront the threat of skepticism.  We might start wondering whether there truly is such a thing as morality.  We might be dubious of the idea that morality is something distinctive, as if it were out there in the universe waiting for us to discover the moral truths that tell us what to do and how to live.  What could such a thing be, exactly?  Where did it come from?  How do we know about it?  Might morality instead be a product of our imagination, or a construction of our social agreements?  These questions form the part of moral philosophy called metaethics.  They are descriptive issues, often abstract and conceptual ones, about the foundations of ethics.  Whereas normative ethics tells us about the content of morality (what we ought to do, and why), metaethics tells us about the status of moral judgments (can they be objectively true, and if so what makes them true?).

Fortunately, we can engage in moral philosophy without resolving these big metaethical issues first.  Even if morality is a human construct, with no objective basis, there is work to be done in constructing solutions to the problems of how to live, of what we and our society ought to do, and of who we ought to admire and emulate.  We need to answer questions about particular decisions or policies, including big questions like the sociopolitical values shaping our societies and governments and smaller yet still quite significant questions about consumer choices or where to go to school. 

Thus, we can think of moral philosophy as an activity, something that we do.  It’s the activity of formulating, examining, and assessing solutions to social problems and the problems individuals deal with in choosing how to live. 

 

Moral Principles and the Role of Moral Theories

When we rationally deliberate about what to do (or about issues like which policies to vote for, how to deal with our emotions, or how to raise children), we often appeal to principles that offer a somewhat general explanation.  For example, we might decide to help a stranger in need because we think that this is what should be done by someone with enough time and resources, or we might decide that the inconvenience would be great enough to excuse us from helping.  Either way, there seems to be a principle involved, perhaps implicitly, in thinking that our particular situation fits into some pattern or kind of situation that calls for either helping or not helping at that time.

Here are a few moral principles often appealed to in explicit or official rationales and decisions:

·       Beneficence: Help others when it is feasible and avoid causing them unnecessary harm.

·       Justice: Avoid unfairness and injustice, and treat like cases alike. 

·       Autonomy: Respect the free decisions of individuals who are capable of deciding for themselves.

            I only mention these as examples of moral principles.  No doubt we should examine these principles carefully once we start sifting through moral controversies.  Clearly, also, there are many more moral principles worth considering.  Some will be more general and others will involve more particular details, qualifications, or exceptions. 

It is good to think, and act, with principles.  But a big question looms regarding which principles to live by.  What should we do when our tried-and-true moral principles give us conflicting directions?  For example, suppose that Beneficence tells us to stop and help but Justice says no for that would create unfairness.  In such a situation, what are we to do?  Which principle ought we to follow? 

This is the role of moral theories: to resolve conflicts between moral principles, and to reveal the ultimate basis and justification for resolving any moral controversies.  Just as moral principles tell us what to do and often also tell us why we ought to do it, moral theories purport to offer fundamental explanations of right and wrong, good and bad.  They tell us which principles apply to us, and why.  Moral theories are thus not neutral.  They support some principles and undermine others. 

Perhaps skeptical doubts begin to arise again, once we consider that there are multiple moral theories competing to be the one that will help us resolve our controversies as they ought to be resolved.  Indeed, it is easy to think that nothing can establish one moral theory as better than another, since such questions of which is better than which are precisely part of the topic of controversy here.  But we can be more optimistic.  For one thing, we are sometimes rightfully confident about what to do.  Sometimes an ethical issue does not seem controversial at all.  Our confidence in preferring a fair outcome of a criminal trial, for example, seems well supported.  So, any principles that conflict with this more particular judgment are problematic to the extent that they conflict with it.  If we can trust some of our judgments (based on individual experience or values or intuition, or on social learning or tradition or…), then we have some leverage for rationally supporting some principles and theories over others. 

In effect, there is a back-and-forth to the activity of moral philosophy: we test principles and theories against particular cases (real or hypothetical), and we strive to solve particular moral controversies by appeal to principles and theories that seem well-supported.