The Telltale Moralist

One can know the theory of amoralism backwards and forwards, and even embrace it, and still fail to see the moralism in oneself. Of course there is nothing new about this kind of self-blindness. “Know thyself” remains an aspiration for everyone.[1] Let me therefore offer some signs of moralism to be on the alert for. 

Perhaps the most obvious indicator is emotionality, simply because, almost by definition, it is a salient phenomenon. Not all emotions are moralist, but moralism will commonly be emotional. Thus for example if you find yourself forcefully displaying a feeling of dislike or aversion, this may be telling you that you have gone beyond merely[2] holding a negative attitude toward something or someone and are judging them morally wrong or bad besides.[3] Negative moralism tends to predominate over positive moralism, and is the bigger troublemaker; and its emotional form will typically be some form of anger.[4] Displays of emotion have well-known qualities, such as raising your voice, speeding up your speech, interrupting, and generally being out of control. Also, the content of your speech or attitude will tend to be broad or extreme (“You always do that”; “You’re evil”; etc.). 

Also high up on the list of red lights is ego. By this I mean having either a high or a low regard for oneself. Thus, your moralism might have its basis in your feeling that you yourself are beyond reproach or error, or, on the contrary, in your fear that you do in fact possess some undesired trait or committed some mistake that is being attributed to you. The former inspires indignation, the latter denial. Absolute rejection, refusal to discuss, taking things personally, and so on, are common manifestations. An amoralist, by contrast, would simply consider whether the attribution or assertion is correct; and if deemed so, then go about trying to reform, or if deemed not, dismiss it as the attributor’s problem, with no reflection on oneself and hence nothing to get excited about. 

It’s pretty easy to detect these features in others, but as invisible as water to a fish in oneself. A third party, however, can, if impartial, easily see them in both. And what is most delicious to observe is the one party accusing the other of the very same flaw that one is exhibiting, often even in the very act of attributing it to the other (for example, screaming at someone for screaming). Thus does moralism lead to conflicts’ spiraling to ever greater intensities and absurdities.


[1] And even when one has a fairly good grasp of a habit one wishes to eliminate (or to acquire), it can be a long haul to rid oneself of (or to obtain) it (which [the elimination of moralism] is presumably one’s goal if one has embraced amoralism, the how-to of which is the topic of my book, Ethical Health). But the prior step is to become aware that one has (or lacks) the habit.

[2] “Merely” is not intended to imply in a weak form. Nonmoral dislikes and aversions can be intense too. Stubbing your toe without any sense of blame or guilt but only pain could well be anathema to you.

[3] Hence what Ronnie de Sousa calls double counting.

[4] Indeed I would go so far as to claim that anger is a sure sign of moralism, since I conceive anger as inherently moralist, involving a judgment that someone has done something morally wrong.

Popular posts from this blog

Who Is more likely to be a psychopath: the rational moralist or the emotional amoralist?

The Enthusiast

Closing the Gaps