Double Entendre?

It is extremely important to me to be able to say, “I did nothing wrong.” But now that I am an amoralist, this has a special meaning for me. Normally, in a moral context, saying “I did nothing wrong” implies that the speaker believes, or at least wants others to believe, that what they did was morally permissible (or perhaps even morally obligatory) and not morally prohibited. There can also be implications about the person, that (they believe etc.) they are not evil or bad, etc. And, indeed, this is what I too believe, or at least wish I did whole-heartedly! 

            But there is a wrinkle. My meaning in making the utterance, when in fully amoral mode, encompasses the background assumption that there is no such thing as moral right or wrong, good or bad. So in effect there is the implicit argument: 

There is no such thing as right or wrong.

Therefore I did nothing wrong. 

            In the moral case, by contrast, the argument would have to look something like this: 

A wrong action is one that neglects the interests of others in a deliberate or reckless way.

What I did did not neglect the interests of others in a deliberate or reckless way.

Therefore I did nothing wrong. 

            But in the amoral case, I might even have done something that did neglect the interests of others in a deliberate or reckless way; and yet, because nothing whatever possesses the property of being wrong (or right or even permissible), I did nothing wrong. Attributing wrongness is, to use a term adopted by Ronald de Sousa, a matter of double counting. Thus, according to the moralist, if I neglected the interests of others in a deliberate or reckless way, I did not only that but also something wrong. An amoralist simply drops the second attribution. 

            Nevertheless -- and my main point in this essay -- one of my personal motives for preferring an amoral world to a moralist world is that it is far easier in the former than in the latter to fulfill my deep desire to be free of guilt. I do not want to be, or believe that I am, a bad person, and I do not want others to believe I am a bad person. This may be one of the strongest desires I have: possibly even the strongest. (The motive may go deeper; for example, the reason for not wanting to be guilty, or to be thought guilty, could have its roots in the belief that I will be denied things that I desire nonmorally, such as companionship, if I am a wrong-doer. And the cause of that belief could lie even “further down” in evolutionary history, with guilt being selected for as a great motivator of behaviors that conduce to our collective and ultimately individual survival.) 

I suspect also that I am hardly alone in this respect. Witness for example the most widespread religion on Earth, which is all about salvation as relief from guilt, from the mark of Adam and Eve. This guilt was taken on by the Savior in his infinite goodness and strength, since we ourselves are incapable of lifting the burden off our own shoulders. 

Note also that the religious comparison has another very interesting parallel in amoralism as I am characterizing it. For another way that amoral relief from guilt diverges from moral relief from guilt is that the latter implies one’s moral goodness whereas the former does not. (Note: I would also speak of “innocence,” but there is an ambiguity here, since “innocent” in a court of law simply means “not guilty” [albeit in a legal and not moral sense]. But I think it may have a positive connotation in morals of being good. So the latter would also be denied to the amoralist.) Obviously an action can no more be right, nor even permissible, than it can be wrong if there is no such thing as right or wrong or permissibility…and hence also, a person no more be good than bad. And just so in religion: I don’t think our Salvation is thought to make us sinners good, but only not guilty. I do sense definite affinities between Christianity and amoralism. Both the Saved and the amoral are free of guilt. Neither, however, is good. 

But that is enough! "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!" (MLKjr) 

P.S. There are moralist ways of being guiltless, of course. But I think they have serious drawbacks that amorality does not. Religious salvation has the historically demonstrated tendency to engender superstitious beliefs and ways of thinking, which can have broad and noxious ramifications for the welfare prospects of humans and nonhumans. Moral guiltlessness, even if wholly secular, has the tendency, I observe (for what my nonscientific observations are worth), to engender self-delusion, arrogance, and other traits I find noxious in their own right.

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