Ought

It is common in ethics to distinguish ought from is. What a person ought to do is a matter of moral obligation, whereas what a person does is a matter of what is the case. Thus, he lied is an is, but he shouldn’t have lied is an ought. It was wrong of her to lie combines the two, for it tells us both that she did lie (an is) and that she shouldn’t have (an ought). And so forth. 

Ethicists since Hume have puzzled over the relation between the two. For suppose someone lies: Have they done something morally wrong? A classic division in ethics is between those who think that the ought is built into the is, since they see something that is wrong as being inherently wrong, and those who think the wrongness comes from somewhere else, such as the consequences of doing something, since any particular thing, like lying, could be wrong on some occasions but right or at least permissible on others. 

            I have for many years argued that there is no puzzle at all because there is no division between ought and is in the first place … because there is no such thing as ought. Thus, there is no morality, no right and wrong, no obligation (or prohibition), etc. (In this essay let it be understood that I am always talking about the moral uses of these terms, since they are also used in etiquette, rationality, hypotheticality, etc. Ultimately, however, I will want to say the same thing about all of these uses.) There is only is. 

Of course there is the word “ought” (and all the others). In fact, that fact is itself an is. But it is not a moral fact; it is simply a linguistic fact. So what is the ought that I claim does not exist? Well, to answer that I must specify what I mean by the word “ought” because existence depends on meaning. After all, if “unicorn” means a horse with one horn on her forehead, then unicorns do not exist; but if “unicorn” means an animal with one horn on his forehead, then, since there are rhinoceroses, unicorns do exist. 

            But defining the moral ought is not so easy. A very common view is that it means whatever God tells us to do. Thus we have the archetypal Thou shalt and Thou shalt not of the Old Testament, laying down the moral laws of what we ought and ought not to do. So the Lord told the people of Israel – and by extension, all people – not to kill and so forth. Therefore killing is wrong, and we shouldn’t do it. (“Killing” itself calls for interpretation, of course, since the Lord condoned, and even commanded, all sorts of killing; but I’ll bracket that for the sake of this discussion.) 

There are two problems with this definition, however. One is of course that the God who is supposed to be the lawgiver may not exist. (This would itself be an is.) But let’s put that issue aside because the second problem is a bigger one, and would plague even a secular definition of “ought.” For it is still not clear that we know what “ought” (or “wrong,” etc.) means. After all, if a teacher tells a child that 2 + 2 = 4, the meaning of “2 + 2 = 4” is not whatever my teacher tells me. Just so, God must have something in mind when telling the people that killing is wrong. But what? We seem to be back where we started. 

            We might suppose that the moral ought is some kind of authoritative command. Thus, “Killing is wrong” means not just that God told us that killing is wrong but that God commanded us not to kill, as “Thou shalt not kill” explicitly exhibits. Here again one problem is that this God may not exist. But, again, let’s bracket that issue, and instead suppose that, in fact (this being an is), the Lord did indeed command us not to kill. Is this really a satisfactory way to think about morality, namely that some very powerful person ordered us to do or not do various things? No. After all, an evil dictator could do that too. Morality commands a different kind of respect because it has a different kind of authority; so we would also want our commander to have good intentions and be very knowledgeable. God is naturally conceived to have such qualities (indeed, to the max). Do we now know what morality is, and the moral ought? 

            Yes and no. For one thing, hasn’t God dropped out of the picture? For essential to this explanation is that the purpose our behavior is supposed to serve is a good one. And how do we know it is: because God has commanded us to act on its behalf? But isn’t that reasoning circular? We know the purpose is good because it has been chosen by a good and all-knowing God; but we know God is good and all-knowing because He has chosen a good purpose. What this means, as Socrates first pointed out, is that we human beings must already know what goodness is without any help from God. 

Unless, that is, we are prepared to accept God’s goodness on the basis of faith … perhaps the same faith on which belief in His very existence is based … or else on some other, more readily discernible feature of God (assuming He exists), such as his power (as Creator of the universe). So then when we observe the countless horrors of worldly existence, which seem to our innate sense of what goodness is to be not good, we would have a ready explanation: God, in his infinite wisdom and goodness and knowledge and power, has, for reasons inscrutable to us finite, flawed beings, permitted or even caused these horrors in service of the Ultimate Good Purpose. 

Well, perhaps due to my own finiteness or flaws, I am unable to accept such an explanation because I do not have such faith. So this means if morality is to have authority (which is the same as to say, “if morality exists”) --- or, more modestly, if I am to be able to recognize its authority -- the purpose it serves must be something discernible to the likes of me. Furthermore, this purpose must speak to me (so to speak) in such a way that I can adopt it as my own, and indeed as the highest purpose for everyone. 

For example, the continued survival of humanity might be such a purpose. But it quickly becomes apparent that this will not do, and for several reasons. One is that mere survival could be gruesome; so we would at least want to amplify what sort of survival we would value. Suppose we did that: We would then be faced with the question of what behaviors would best promote it, unless certain behaviors were themselves what were most valued. But can we assume that everyone will agree on these things, that is, on both the end and the means? A casual look ‘round at the diversity of humanity suggests that we certainly cannot. Any why would we expect unanimity, given the variety of conditions under which people live, are familiar with, and are attached to? 

            The conclusion I myself have come to after pondering all these things for many years is that, even if there were a perfect God with a perfect purpose, or, failing that, even if there were a best common purpose for humanity and a means to achieve it, our human finiteness and flaws would preclude out ever being able to know it or agree on it or be consistently motivated by it. So for all practical purposes there is no morality having the requisite kind of authority, even if in some cosmic sense there is such thing. 

One might still suppose that we humans could have relative moralities suited to our various differences. And in fact – as a matter of is – we do have such things: the various mores (“MORE-eez”) of different societies and groups. But this is part of the problem I see for morality, and indeed is my main complaint against it, since assigning moral authority to such customs of behavior results in heightened conflict between different groups. At base, it seems to me, we can correctly say that different groups (and even individuals, of course) have different, sometimes conflicting, preferences. (Different from those of other groups or individuals and also different within groups and individuals.) This obviously can lead to conflict (including internal  turmoil). But how much more so when that conflict is conceived as not between different desires and habits (is) but between different objective values (ought), not to mention God-sanctioned ones. This is why I recommend removing God and objectivity from ethics. 

            What does that mean in practical terms? My recommendation here is quite simple in essence, although it is not always easy to put into practice. In the first instance it amounts to replacing various locutions. Thus, instead of You ought not to kill or It is wrong to kill, I suggest, If you thought about it, you would not kill. In more detail, by “you thought” I mean you reflected in an informed, logical, and secular way, and by “would not” I mean would most likely (decide to) avoid doing it … and, more generally, would also encourage others likewise, including raising your children to have the same inhibition, and support legislation to prevent it. Thus, instead of a moral injunction or claim (i.e., an ought), there would be an empirical prediction (an is).           

Let me further refine my characterization of ought and is to avoid a certain confusion, since ought and is may seem to be interchangeable. Confusion is endemic to natural language because every word has multiple meanings. (Just look in any good dictionary.) So we have seen that the ought of Thou shalt not kill is equivalent to the apparent is of Killing is wrong. Even You ought not to kill is a kind of is statement. Furthermore, the kind of is I have put forward as an alternative to morality is translatable into recommendations, which, while not commands in the imperative voice, are nevertheless hortatory. 

So another way for me to state my claim is that there are no moral facts, i.e., there is no moral is. But it is easier just to categorize the moral is as the moral ought. Whatever – so long as you understand what I am saying. 

The rest of my recommendation is to internalize the new locutions, by which I mean not just to come to use them habitually in lieu of moral locutions but, more importantly, to take their meaning to heart as purely secular and preferential rather than objective and universal. 

In conclusion I pose this question to the moralist: What is to be gained by speaking (and thinking) of “ought” and “right” and “wrong” etc., not to mention God and the supernatural, when we can express ourselves fully in the much more down-to-earth language of preferences and predictions, especially in light of the empirical observation that the use of moral terminology and moral concepts in our speaking and feeling seems to generate superfluous conflict?