Why Abolition?

I favor eliminating (or “abolishing”) moral language from our speech and writing, and especially from our thinking. (My main target is our moral attitudes.) There are two quite distinct reasons for doing this. One is that morality simply does not exist; that is to say, the objects of our moral beliefs and assertions, such as the wrongness of an action or the desert due a person for doing something wrong, are pure phantasms … like gods and demons. The other reason for doing away with moral language and thinking and attitudes is that doing so would help make life and the world more to my, and I presume most people’s, considered liking. Each of these two reasons is a claim that calls for further explication and justification, which I (and others) have provided in numerous articles and books. But in this short essay I would like to address a narrower issue, to wit: whether these reasons would sustain a less radical approach to morality. Specifically, a kind of moral critic, whom we could call the naturalist, favors the reform of our thinking about morality, but retaining moral language under a new interpretation. 

            Thus, according to the naturalist, to assert that, say, it is wrong to kick a dog (who is otherwise not dangerous or attacking someone, etc.) is simply to make a claim about a matter of cultural fact. It is a cultural fact because different cultures or societies or groups have different moralities, at least to some degree. Thus, in some other culture it might be considered just fine to kick a dog, for example, to tenderize it before killing it and cooking it to eat. Whether there are certain moral claims that are true in all cultures is an open question; but that some bona fide moral claims are highly at odds between cultures is an obvious fact. So the naturalist view is a form of moral relativism. But the main thing I want to stress about it now is that it is, well, naturalistic; that is to say, according to this view, the moral assertion in question is not alluding to some metaphysical fact or truth that one ought not to kick harmless dogs, or to a metaphysical imperative or divine command not to do so, but simply to the empirical fact that, among a given group of human beings, it is frowned upon to do it. More broadly, then, to assert that something is wrong (or whatever) is no different than asserting that the Earth is round or that there are two apples on the table or that people in America prefer coffee to tea. These are (purported) matters of fact, or beliefs which may be mistaken or false or true or correct (or right or wrong in a nonmoral sense). 

            The advantage to retaining moral language with this understanding is that we are familiar with its use. The abolitionist argues, however, that the disadvantages outweigh the advantages. The abolitionist recommends instead simply using the naturalistic language of the naturalist’s interpretation of moral language. Thus for example, instead of saying it is wrong or bad to kick dogs, say, “We (in this society) don’t want dogs to be kicked” or “We don’t like dogs to be kicked.” (Note, by the way, that these assertions can still be intended to apply to other societies as well, even if in some other society it is considered perfectly OK to kick harmless dogs. We still wish it were not done there. I will also add that I don’t think morality has to be restricted to groups; personal preferences could ground the morality of a moral nonconformist, such as someone who objects to the prevailing permissibility of meat-eating on moral grounds.) 

            What exactly are the disadvantages of retaining the moral language? First of all, the abolitionist doubts that the use of moral language can be so thoroughly reformed that people no longer attach metaphysical significance to it. Thus, if instead of simply saying “We don’t want anyone to kick harmless dogs” we continue to say, “It’s wrong to kick harmless dogs,” my sense is that something additional is still held in mind. It’s not only that we don’t want it or like it: It’s wrong, it’s bad, dammit! And it is precisely this additional element that the abolitionist views as the troublemaker. 

            Now, it is certainly true that the abolitionist still needs to say more about the kind of wanting or liking that is to be substituted for moral talk (and attitudes). After all, a certain society might frown on wearing hats indoors, as a matter of etiquette we could say, without deeming it a moral infraction. Also, Americans might prefer action films to romantic films, as a matter of taste or aesthetics, without deeming the French immoral for having the opposite preference. The same goes for gustatory preferences, and for what is considered humorous, etc. But this is not a special problem for the abolitionist, since presumably the moralist, including the naturalist variety, would also need to distinguish moral beliefs from nonmoral ones. Furthermore, the naturalist would need to be able to make the distinction in the same terms as the abolitionist, for both are averse to the nonnaturalist moralist’s resort to metaphysical facts or “absolute” imperatives to account for the difference. 

            But it is the abolitionist’s empirical hunch that some of that metaphysical, absolutist aura would continue to attach to the use of moral language in speaking and writing and thinking and feeling even under a naturalist regime, and this is what causes the problems the abolitionist sees with still using it. What are these problems? As noted, I have discussed these at length elsewhere. But, briefly, the main gripe is that the belief in and commitment to absolutist imperatives, as opposed simply to certain kinds of preferences and recommendations, leads both to stultifying behavioral regimes and to intractable and especially fierce conflicts where there are disagreements. 

            Finally, let me also note that what I have called the abolitionist’s empirical hunch has received pushback from some philosophers and psychologists (and experimental philosophers, who are a bit of both). The psychologists in question claim to have demonstrated that, as a matter of empirical fact, the common conception of morality does not conform to the metaphysically fraught one philosophers have claimed or assumed for it…or at the very least, that the philosopher’s conception is only one among several common conceptions, or that we all carry around several, or that there is just a lot of vagueness and confusion in our minds or assumptions about morality’s nature. (The work of Thomas Pölzler, an experimental philosopher, is particularly instructive in this regard.) Meanwhile, some (nonexperimental) philosophers argue that the metaphysical conception is itself a phantasm; that is, not only is there no such thing as metaphysical morality, but there cannot even be an idea of it…much as it is not possible even to imagine a four-sided triangle. For example, as I myself once put it: a moral imperative seems like a command without a commander.

            My response to the psychologist’s claim is that I would certainly expect there to be a range of conceptions of morality, as well as sheer confusion about it; but nevertheless there is sufficient buy-in to the sort of metaphysical conception often assumed by analytic and religious ethicists to make it a worthy target of critique. To the philosophical objection I reply that, while indeed the metaphysical conception is indeed bizarre (or “queer,” as Mackie famously put it), I object generally to the sort of philosophical censorship or Newspeak that strives to deny us the very possibility, on conceptual or logical grounds, of speaking or thinking of something, as opposed to the pragmatic approach I prefer of advocating for the elimination of certain kinds of language or thought simply to help bring about a world that would be more to our considered liking. 

I want to thank Maxim Fetissenko for stimulating discussion of the main issue addressed in this essay, including for suggesting some of the particular arguments and examples.