The Empirical Question(s)
I have been advocating an extreme form of amoralism, according to which morality is a myth and most of us, on reflection, would favor everyone’s acknowledging that to the fullest. These are distinct claims. The first is what might be called a metaphysical claim, for it is about what exists and what does not exist, morality being one of the things that I claim does not exist. In this respect morality is like God, or at least a certain conception of God, who or which also does not exist. Says who? Well, my main argument in both cases is that the best explanation of the world has no need and even no room for either morality or God.
But what is this “best
explanation,” and who says it’s the best one? Well, in rough terms, it’s the
explanation provided by physics and Darwinism – by science, you might say; the
scientific worldview – and I am the one who “says” it’s the best explanation we
have of why the world is the way it is. And who am I? What gives me the authority
to decide this? Well, I do not really claim authority; I think it’s just a
personal preference of mine that science trumps various others forms of
purported knowledge of how the world works, although that “just” is not
intended to rule out my ability to give reasons for my preference. And in fact
another of my preferences is that everyone be prepared to provide public
reasons for their preferences (i.e., that everyone be rational in this sense),
where “public” implies that these reasons are open to scrutiny by others and
even further scrutiny by oneself.
Yet another
issue implicit in the above is whether I’ve got the right concepts of
morality and God; for one conception of either might lead us to conclude that it
is not instantiated in reality, whereas a different one might not. My
conception of morality (putting God aside for the time being) is that it is a
set of objective values presumed to have decisive authority over human attitudes
and behavior. Here the criterion of the “right” concept is empirical: I take my
understanding of this concept to conform to the prevailing conception in my
society, perhaps even among humanity as a whole.[1]
In this I may simply be mistaken, as Thomas Pölzler, for one, thinks I am.[2]
However, even if I am mistaken about the prevalence of the conception in
question, I can still retreat to the position that I am talking about a
conception that has some prevalence, and even that even this possibly
minority degree of prevalence has a great influence on the world.
This I think even Pölzler would allow.
The
question would then be: Is this influence benign, malign, or middling? That is
where my second claim comes in, namely, that most of us, on reflection, would
favor everyone’s acknowledging the nonexistence of morality (that is, in the
sense I have singled out) to the fullest. This too is an empirical claim. And
it is the empirical case for this claim that has most preoccupied me in my
general amoralist project. Specifically, I am forever adducing instances of
everyday life (ranging from personal relationships to international politics –
analogous to Newton’s’ adducing the behavior of apples and planets) where it
seems to me that things would go more to everyone’s considered liking if the
parties involved had sincere and publicly visible amoral attitudes.
For
example, my sense is that two roommates who have different degrees of cold
sensitivity would be far more likely to be able decide how to set the
thermostat amicably if neither of them played the moral card that their
preference was the right one. Similarly, my sense is that if both
Ukrainians and Russians lacked moral certainty about their respective desires,
and instead simply acknowledged these desires, it is far less likely that there
would have been war between them.
Note that I
am not denying for one moment that there will be some occasions on which
moral attitudes could prove useful, even for achieving goals I myself would
favor on reflection. For example, might not there be cases of murderers, or
potential murderers, who finally threw over their murderous intentions due
precisely to some imperative of conscience that those intentions were morally
wrong or bad? I take it as obvious that there could be and even certainly have
been such cases. Similarly for being motivated to do something deemed
both noble and difficult, like Raskolnikov’s turning himself in to the police. But
my argument is that, on the whole or in the main, such motives
are counterproductive to the kind of world most of us would, on reflection,
prefer to live in.
But keep in
mind, again, that this empirical claim is premised on the conception of
morality as something objective.[3]
Suppose Pölzler is correct that morality is far from universally deemed
objective. Then might it not be possible to have the best of both worlds by
retaining moralism in society? Here “moralism” means simply the belief in
morality. For then we would have the inhibiting and motivating power of conscience
at our disposal, and yet not have to sustain a Noble Lie that objective values
exist.
But to me
it seems empirically implausible that morality would retain its
force in the absence of its objective conception. Indeed, it is not even clear
to me what the alternative and presumed prevailing conception of morality would
be. Pölzler, I think, concludes only that people have a hodgepodge of
conceptions, and perhaps some of them are inchoate (to put it nicely – I might
say “incoherent.” I picture people invoking morality as mindlessly as some of
them invoke “Jesus” or “God,” with no clear idea at all of what they are
talking about, such that Jesus’s existence is taken to support torturing and
killing people, for instance … just as objective morality’s often is).
Furthermore,
suppose that a nonobjective conception of morality could retain its
force. Then, I put it to the defender of moralism of this sort, why not
also defend or at countenance a similar sort of God? I think this
challenge has some force simply because most of the moralism defenders of this
sort happen also to be atheists. But I strongly suspect that these “secular
moralists” would find it empirically implausible that belief in such
a God could serve the same “benign” purposes that are presumably served by
belief in the mythical God.[4]
Then why think it is any different with morality?
What is
most salient to me is that the very term “moralism” has a pejorative
meaning in everyday discourse. Thus, it means not only a belief in right and
wrong but an overbearing wielding of that belief. And this has been part
of my argument all along for dispensing with moralism even in the simple sense
of believing in right and wrong, namely, that, as a matter of empirical fact,
moralism of the simple sort leads inexorably to moralism of the pejorative
sort.
And I suspect that part of what makes “moralism” pejorative is precisely the idea that morality is objective. So that even if Pölzler is correct that most people’s moralism is nonobjective, my argument would be that this moralism makes one liable to objective moralism (and that is when the trouble begins). It’s sort of like the argument against legalizing marijuana that it’s a gateway drug. Apparently that claim is false in the case of weed. But my claim is that the analogue is true for moralism: The belief in right and wrong is a gateway belief to belief in objective value (and of all kinds) … and the latter, like “harder” drugs, is something that has all sorts of noxious consequences (that is, in nonobjective terms, leads to outcomes most of us would, on reflection, be averse to).
[1] Note
that there is also a conception of “objective” implicit in this conception of
morality. Mitchell Silver for one takes issue with the one I am assuming. (See
his Rationalist Pragmatism.) I have never been able to make sense of his
as remotely plausible, but I could just be dense. I think he would return the
compliment-with-qualification.
[2] See his A
Philosophical Perspective on Moral Objectivism.
[3] Which
is, again, in turn premised on a particular conception of the objective or of
objective value.
[4] Cf.
Mitchell Silver’s A Plausible God.