Topics Ethics

Question It seems that we adopt a formal ethical theory based on our pre-theoretical ethical intuitions. Our pre-theoretical ethical intuitions seem to be the product of our upbringing, our education and the society we live in and not to be entirely consistent, since our upbringing and our education often inculcate conflicting values. So how do we decide which of our pre-theoretical ethical intuitions, if any, are right? It seems that we can only judge them in the light of other pre-theoretical ethical intuitions and how can we know that they are right? If we judge them against a formal ethical system, it seems that the only way we have to decide whether a formal ethical theory, say, consequentialism, is right is whether it is consistent with our pre-theoretical ethical intuitions, so we are going nowhere, it seems.

Accepted:
October 4, 2015

Comments

This is a nice question.

This is a nice question. Essentially, I agree with your description of what we need to do, but not your conclusion that this gets us nowhere.

The process that you describe is known as ‘reflective equilibrium’ (named and defended by John Rawls). In coming to discover what is morally right or good, we reflect on both our individual judgements based on pre-theoretical intuitions and on broader moral principles or theoretical arguments. As you point out, it is very unlikely that these are coherent to start with. So we go back and forth between the individual judgements and the principles adjusting each in the light of the other until we reach coherence or 'equilibrium'.

If you think that what is morally right is completely independent of what we think, then you may be concerned that such coherence is no guide to the truth. Indeed, philosophers have objected that this method may just make someone's moral prejudices more systematic, leading them away from the truth. But for that reason, and because there is good reason to think that what is morally right does depend in detail on human psychology and human nature, we can broaden what we reflect upon in trying to reach coherence. In addition to our individual moral judgements or intuitions and our wider moral principles, we should also take into account relevant theories about the human condition, including what we can discover from moral psychology, moral development and the social sciences. These can help us understand the way in which our pre-theoretical intuitions are formed, which can help us judge which intuitions are good and which are bad. They can also help us understand points of disagreement and agreement between people as well as offering other forms of relevant evidence, e.g. the likely consequences of particular moral principles. We should also add that the psychological qualities of the person reflecting are important. We can give a psychological account of moral maturity and the abilities involved in reflecting well upon these issues. Given the complexity of what we are doing, this theory is not committed to saying that everyone can do it equally well.

Reflecting on this last point further, many philosophers now argue that we should think of this process as involving both moral experience and our emotions. Both life experience and emotions can make the reasons we have for acting in certain ways much clearer to us, or can simply reveal something important about human nature that we need to take into account. Finally, we should not think of this process as something that an individual does on his or her own. This is something that we need to do in dialogue with other people. We may each learn from others, who may spot things we miss, including what we fail to understand as a result of pre-theoretical prejudice.

With this much broader scope and greater complexity, and the challenges that exist in bringing our thoughts about these matters into a coherent whole, as well as the challenges involved in achieving the ability to reflect well, I think we can say that the process does lead to greater moral knowledge rather than, as you suggested, going nowhere. It doesn't give us quick or simple answers, but I don't think that we should expect quick or simple answers in ethics.

Perhaps I can play the devil

Perhaps I can play the devil's advocate and rebuild the case for thinking that systematic ethical theory gets us nowhere.

There are actually many different systematic theories--utilitarian, contractarian, deontological, etc.--but the trouble is they clash. The defenders of such theories often agree on particular moral judgments, but as to the abstract principles that define these systems, the experts disagree. In fact, it is precisely disagreement over the principles of these systems that animates much current academic debate in ethics. Yet if not even the experts can agree on which of their systematic principles are correct and which incorrect, why should anyone else rely on them? The theories in question are just as disputable as any real moral decision they could be invoked to justify.

Again, systematic ethical theories are often defended on the grounds that they are like systematic theories in empirical science. (Rawls, for example, makes this move.) Yet empirical theories in science are reliable only because they can be tested by physical experiment. When it comes to systematic ethical theories, by contrast, no one knows how to conduct a physical experiment to test the principle of utility, or Rawls's theory of the original position, or T.M. Scanlon's version of the social contract, or Derek Parfit's "triple theory" of what counts as a wrongful act. Philosophy, regrettably, is mostly just talk, and the only way to confirm or refute any of it is with more talk. If, in fact, none of these theories can be confirmed in the way that theories of science can be confirmed, why suppose that any of these systematic ethical theories are reliable in the first place?

Beyond these points, ordinary people, outside of philosophy, typically reason about right and wrong in a manner that places no reliance on such theories. Their arguments are usually particular to the case. For example, if I say that firing a pistol at my neighbor is wrong because it could hurt him, I have certainly given what counts under ordinary circumstances as a good reason. But my reasoning needn't invoke anything so controversial as the principle of utility, or the theories of Rawls, Scanlon, Parfit, etc. My reasoning relies on a specific consequence. Again, if I say that my shooting at my neighbor would be wrong because I already know that his shooting at me would be wrong, then I seem to argue by analogy. (A is like B, and B is clearly wrong; therefore, A is probably wrong too.) I need systematic ethical theory for none of this.

Now if you have read this far and have an interest in the history of political philosophy, you will perhaps see that I am merely parroting an outlook that was expressed long ago by Edmund Burke in his Reflections on the Revolution in France. Burke's Reflections defends feudalism and chivalry, but antiquated politics aside, he also argues that real moral reasoning, if reliable, avoids sweeping generalizations about rightness, wrongness, political legitimacy, and so forth. Real moral reasoning is typically particular and analogical, and it is essentially inductive. It does not rely on deducing a conclusion from systematic principles that purport to state necessary and sufficient conditions for a moral concept. Burke defended this outlook during the later, conservative period of his life, but also during the earlier, liberal period.

(Notice that Burke isn't skeptical of all of our pre-theoretical ethical intuitions. He's just skeptical of sweeping ethical theories--ones that presume to lay out necessary and sufficient conditions for moral concepts. Of course, there are also many other sorts of systematic thought in ethics and philosophy--all quite innocuous--but it is the attempt to state necessary and sufficient conditions that is the bone of contention.)

In academic philosophy today, Burke's position is definitely a minority view. Yet it still seems to match how most people ordinarily reason, and so it is still worth giving careful thought to. My guess is that other contributors may wish to weigh in on this point, and to defend different conceptions. Nevertheless, the fundamental question Burke poses is this: Given the many theoretical objections to any of these systematic ethical theories, would it actually be reasonable to rely on one of them in making a real moral decision? Burke thought the answer was no.