Monday, May 19, 2008

More on the matter

My worthy adversary writes:

I've explained, at least to my satisfaction, that there are lots of goods, irreducible to one another, and that the reason an object (or an end, more generally) can appear as good is rooted in our biology.

I can't think why it has taken me so long to ask it, but do you believe in free will? If you don't, I can't see what good a conversation about ethics would do--though, admittedly, I've never been able to fathom how one could disbelieve in free will. I'll refrain from quoting Rush. On the other hand, if you do, you surely realize that humans may do all sorts of things contrary to biological impulses. The use of birth control, for instance, provides a telling example of how humans thwart such impulses.

One could add to this that society -- as the ontological foundation of the practices in which these higher goods subsist -- is the unconditioned good, without which there would be only a Hobbesian struggle for survival and none of the spiritual fulfillment of the kind supplied by recognitional networks.

You have hit upon one of the tenants of Natural Law theory, in which sociability is held to be one good; though, of course, all goods, in the Christian tradition, come from God Himself. The important fact, however, is that sociability is not enough. One could make an argument that the various despotic realms, especially those of the twentieth century, maintained sociability. They are ethically flawed, however, because they routinely violated other precepts of Natural Law, most blatantly in their flagrant disregard for human life, another good.

In short, a barbarous anarchy may be preferable to a human society if it is not in agreement with the basic tenants of morality. This is a point I have been at some pains to convey to you: it is impossible to vest the moral compass with a society of men because man is almost hopelessly fallible.

So we have to step in to protect the dignity-conferred rights of the intended victim. We institute laws and support an executive branch to enforce them, to physically apprehend those who are a danger to other people and society as a whole. The existence of such a branch serves as a reason not to break the law, and, if someone exercises her freedom to break it anyway, well, there are the feds to do their job and protect the rest of us as best they can.

I'm not sure what you mean by dignity, at least in this context. Our rights are inalienable because they come from God, or they are simply the results of what the people believe them to be. We know where that road may lead. This is a point the secularist of the EU implicitly recognize; "human rights" is an amorphous term because, unless it is grounded in something unchangeable, these rights are nothing more than the whims of the feds to whom you would go for protection.

Your scheme may work well enough, but your rhetoric can't mask the fact that this is basically wishful thinking. Government, especially when governed by those who answer to no one, is far more likely to coerce by violence and violate our so-called rights than it is to protect them. This is one of the largely unlearned lessons of the twentieth century, and, indeed, all of human history.

Art, like morality, consists in drawing the line somewhere, as Chesterton put it. If you don't draw moral lines, and merely put your faith in people's ability to influence their government to govern well, you will end in a nightmare of disappointment.

You would say, I expect, we ought to behave ethically because we are the children of God, and that God in his divine wisdom has ensured that when everyone behaves ethically in this way, that we will all get along without too much stepping on anyone's toes.

Jesus insisted that He came to divide, so I don't think your last assertion is true. There are two reasons for the Christian to behave ethically. The first is an extension of the principle of the policeman at the corner, only God has better eyesight. The second is that God is Goodness itself, and therefore worthy of our loving service. Sin is an offense against God, and harms our neighbors, but often it is the sinner himself who is harmed most, as Roskolnikov discovered.

This is very much analogous to my claim that because of what we are (satisfaction-seeking, self-conscious beings) and because of how the good life is structured and conditioned (in terms of social networks of recognition) it is overwhelmingly in our best interest to behave in an ethical way that also promotes shared social goods.

Agreed. But the difference is very important. In my argument, every human being seeks God as his ultimate end. Your end is not defined. If I label it for you--as I am wont to do--as pleasure, a bit of a crude translation, you resist, saying that this is not what you mean. If I point out that you cannot have society as a good because society can be, and often is, bad, you again reject my claim and point out that it is more nuanced than that. Very well, but you cannot expect me to believe that a series of "goods", rooted in nothing more than wishful thinking, can possibly be a reasonable way to ground a system of ethics. If you do not tell men what to aim at, they will inevitably find lousy targets. And hit them.

The discussion of the cat, frankly, was rather cryptic. Further explanation of what a soul is and how you see it figuring in this debate would be most helpful.

On this point, I think I can be of some service. Chesterton's point was that everyone starts with the understanding that evil exists. We have atheists like Woody Allen who lament the underachiever for creating a world so full of evil. Meanwhile, Christians wrestle with what is probably the most significant objection to the existence of an all-powerful and all-good Being. In fact, according to Aquinas, the existence of evil is the only real objection to the existence of God--though not an unanswerable one.

Anyway, the point is, no matter what your views on God, you no doubt feel that the world has somehow gone wrong; things could be better. The next thing one notices, is that it is not simply natural disasters and the like that are the cause of evil. Man is capable of much evil of his own. We can come to this conclusion from any number of observations. For instance, we may view with moral indignation the abuse of power, and the pain and suffering which it brings. But it is best to find this evil in one's own heart, for this allows us to get at the root of the problem.

Chesterton's point was that there were two good explanations for the evil present in every one of us. The first is the atheist's: The absence of God is all that is necessary for evil to triumph. But the Christian has his explanation as well: Man has disobeyed, and is separated from God; but once God deigned to walk among us, and paid the price for our disobedience; through Him we may be saved. In other words, evil is a result of sin.

Self-immolation causes unnecessary suffering.

This isn't necessarily true. We can concoct any number of scenarios in which it would be better to immolate oneself by fire. A widow would possibly endure great suffering, especially as her failure to immolate herself would cause social ostracization. It would be likewise difficult, based on what you have said, to have convinced Hitler to have refrained from eating his gun. Or, to use another example, if Christ, while waiting for Pilate's decision, would have drank the hemlock offered to Socrates, He would have relieved Himself of tremendous suffering. Only a firm grounding in the goodness of human life, regardless of the pain it suffers, offers a legitimate defense against the evil of suicide, in any of its forms.

If we can't do this, we need to seriously consider the possibility that our way is not so superior as we fondly like to think. Given what I recall of your views on Iraq, I find it positively weird that you suggest, however obliquely, that the way to improve the world is to march in and proselytize.

I think the answer is to pray fervently, and to evangelize, which often leads to martyrdom, the blood of which was the seed of the Church, in Tertulian's phrase. My antipathy toward the World Democratic Revolution in Iraq is that the exchange of human life is not worth the establishment of a so-called democracy. Actually, I think democracy, or at least the principles of universal suffrage, to be among the silliest of the ideas advanced by human kind.

On the other hand, bringing the Good News to the Iraqi people would be a worthy goal. It would not cost any lives--if done right--and would even ameliorate the present situation--as the religious often build hospitals and the like in the communities to which they offer witness. If asked why I do not partake of such I can only posit that I am a coward. Thankfully, moral weakness isn't a reason one may be excluded from the Church.

More on point, you essentially concede that you have nothing to offer a community, whose ideas differ from your own, in the way of a rational argument. Cultural relativism, which you seem, at times, to support, renders moral progress impossible, because it removes the standard by which such progress may be judged.

The reason -- or at least, one reason -- that the sort of relativism you're worried about can't take hold is that all cultures are shaped and constrained by our biology. They all bottom out at the same place, as it were.

I would agree, but I would add that our biology was literally shaped by the Fall. The only conclusion I read from my amateur study of human history is that evil is ubiquitous, but various. Bottoming out must be taken almost literally; where man meets man is at the crossroads of depravity.

People suffer needlessly whenever they are denied the proper conditions for flourishing, whenever they are deprived of existing resources for free self-actualization.

But you've repeatedly stated that freedom must be constrained by society. Self-actualization--do what thou wilt--is consistent only with anarchy. You could argue, as Christians do, that freedom consists in choosing to do good, but, again, this leaves you with the need to draw some lines or define some goods.

I have two things to add in closing. First, I came across this quote from Sartre in my readings of Kreeft's excerpts of Aquinas: "There can be no eternal truth since there is no divine mind to think it." Do you agree? Second, setting aside my skepticism toward macro-evolution, when the first human being evolved, was it a moral agent? Or did it require the evolution of other humans for him to achieve that status?

I merely ask that you give these questions your consideration. As always, I look forward to your response.

4 comments:

PJ said...

Okay, I have a couple of other intellectual projects on my plate for the week, and then I'll be away from the Internet until Monday; so I likely won't respond in full until next week. One thing I can do quickly is to address a couple of titles you've mentioned, and then advertise a few of my own.

Ulysses -- You've got it figured right: huge amount of work for a questionable pay-off. If you decide to take it on, though, drop me an e-mail -- I'd love to discuss it with you. Stuart Gilbert has a helpful study you might consult for some extra structure.

Varieties of Religious Experience -- A classic, definitely, but I haven't read it or anything else by William James. At least not yet. It's his novelist brother Henry who you probably heard me praise. Check out "The Turn of the Screw" or _The Portrait of a Lady_ next time you're looking for some good literary fiction. Also, there's nothing like the prose of his late novels (though I should caution that some people find them completely unbearable).


If you or any of your readers are ever curious to learn more about Hegel, who I've mentioned more than any other philosopher in these posts, let me recommend two introductory studies. Terry Pinkard's 2000 biography would make an excellent introduction to Hegel's thought, especially its context and development. Stephen Houlgate's 2005 introduction offers a more straight-forwardly systematic treatment, with the benefit of being considerably shorter than Pinkard's formidable tome.

Another thinker you might look into is Charles Taylor. His work on Hegel has (arguably) been superseded, but he's a notable philosopher in his own right and quite relevant to our discussion. Taylor defends a philosophical framework very much like the one that I've been advancing (indeed, I'm indebted to him for some of my ideas and formulations), and he is also Catholic. I've read _The Ethics of Authenticity_ and _Sources of Self_, both of which I can confidently recommend. He's addressed religion more directly in his recent _A Secular Age_, which I hope to read over the summer, and in some published lectures on Catholicism and modernity. You'll have to do your own research about whether he's worth your time right now, but I've found his work to be quite stimulating. Also worth mentioning is that, unlike many philosophers working in the Continental tradition, he writes in a lucid prose style and does not assume familiarity with the entire philosophical canon.

Anyhow, more soon --
PJ

A Wiser Man Than I said...

Thanks, this has been valuable.

I've been hesitant to get into Hegel for a couple of reasons. The first is that there are so many Christian philosophers with whom I am too unfamiliar. Reading the entire Summa is probably unreasonable, at least at this juncture, but I'd like to be a better Thomist before entering into Hegelian woods.

The other reason is that I'm not certain how profitable it would be to read Hegel without understanding those who came before him--Kant, right? To this end, I'm hoping Will Durant covers this in his Story of Civilization.

Yes, I know it's ridiculous to take on an eleven volume history series rather than simply studying Hegel, but Durant was an able student of philosophy, and history is far, far easier--and more enjoyable--for me to read.

Also, I'm not allowed to buy any more books until the year ends. And yes, the Wu-Tang Clan is heavily involved. On second thought, don't ask. But I've added your recommendations to my reading list.

A Wiser Man Than I said...

Taylor's new book looks fascinating, especially as it appears to be very historically driven. If you do manage to read it, I'd be very interested to know what you think.

PJ said...

Hey Eric,

Well, if this one is a little on the longer side, all I can say is, you've only yourself to blame --

Eric: I can't think why it has taken me so long to ask it, but do you believe in free will? If you don't, I can't see what good a conversation about ethics would do--though, admittedly, I've never been able to fathom how one could disbelieve in free will.

PJ: Well yes, it's pretty clear to me that we make all kinds of decisions everyday.

Eric: [Y]ou surely realize that humans may do all sorts of things contrary to biological impulses. The use of birth control, for instance, provides a telling example of how humans thwart such impulses.

PJ: Absolutely. Our biological nature underdetermines our actions, even as it structures and constrains them. We, are actually forced, in the course of experience, to develop our own, distinctly human world of distinctions that cannot be read off of the natural world.

Eric: You have hit upon one of the tenants of Natural Law theory, in which sociability is held to be one good; though, of course, all goods, in the Christian tradition, come from God Himself. The important fact, however, is that sociability is not enough. One could make an argument that the various despotic realms, especially those of the twentieth century, maintained sociability. They are ethically flawed, however, because they routinely violated other precepts of Natural Law, most blatantly in their flagrant disregard for human life, another good.

PJ: I call society an unconditioned good because it is the condition of possibility for all of our distinctly human goods, for our ability to understand ourselves as working toward describable goals, for articulating and achieving ends not prescribed to us by our biological nature. That's all I mean by "unconditioned good." It's not at all my position that sociability is a sufficient condition for achieving the good life. Not all societies are equally conducive to human flourishing. Some, of course, are extremely repressive.

Eric: In short, a barbarous anarchy may be preferable to a human society if it is not in agreement with the basic tenants of morality. This is a point I have been at some pains to convey to you: it is impossible to vest the moral compass with a society of men because man is almost hopelessly fallible.

PJ: I'm not sure whether the first sentence is true -- the devil, I suppose, is in the details -- and I don't think it much matters. After all, to dissolve society is not a living option. Our question is of how to make this world into the best possible home for human beings. We may, inevitably, fall short of our ideals, but they remain essentially human standards and ideals, inescapably tailored to our form of life. God need never enter the conversation, as far as I can see.

Eric: I'm not sure what you mean by dignity, at least in this context. Our rights are inalienable because they come from God, or they are simply the results of what the people believe them to be. We know where that road may lead. This is a point the secularist of the EU implicitly recognize; "human rights" is an amorphous term because, unless it is grounded in something unchangeable, these rights are nothing more than the whims of the feds to whom you would go for protection.

PJ: My concept of dignity comes from Kant, who introduces the concept by way of contrast with "price." An object has a price if can be replaced by another object as an equivalent. What has dignity is that which is beyond all price. His reasoning is as follows: "[N]othing can have a worth other than that which the law determines for it. But the lawgiving itself, which determines all worth, must for that very reason have a dignity, that is, an unconditional, incomparable worth; and the word *respect* alone provides a becoming expression for the estimate of it that a rational being must give. *Autonomy* is therefore the ground of the dignity of human nature and of every rational creature" (Groundwork 4:436). The idea is that, because human beings are the source of all value, they themselves possess an absolute, unconditional value. It is impossible to set a price upon that without which "price" is inconceivable. My Hegel-inspired emphasis on society as the unconditioned good is just an extension of this Kantian insight. The two arguments share a structure and are complimentary because society subsists only in and through its individual members who subsist in their autonomy only in and through their society.

As to how specific rights are negotiated, I don't yet have a developed view. I hope to find some good answers to this and related questions in John Rawls and Ronald Dworkin, two political philosophers on my reading list for the near future. In any case, however, your dilemma between grounding right in the Unchangeable or reducing it to whim (effectively surrendering the notion altogether), strikes me as false. It's perfectly possible to ground rights in something changeable, like social history, so long as it can be seen to change in accordance with some kind of logic or reason. The legitimacy of rights claims, then, could be assessed according to the rationality of the socio-historical transformations from which they emerge, where the ideal of freedom or human flourishing provides the benchmark for rationality. But I suggest this rather tentatively, and it would require a great deal of elaboration in any case.

Eric: Your scheme may work well enough, but your rhetoric can't mask the fact that this is basically wishful thinking. Government, especially when governed by those who answer to no one, is far more likely to coerce by violence and violate our so-called rights than it is to protect them. This is one of the largely unlearned lessons of the twentieth century, and, indeed, all of human history.

PJ: On the contrary, this is precisely why we need democracy, transparency, and lively political debate. To eliminate government would be a disaster. Our well-being depends upon too many socio-economic systems and institutions of far too great a complexity for any individual to manage alone. These systems do improve our lives and provide us with real freedom. Yet, as they become increasingly global and interconnected, they also present an increasing amount of danger. But this is an argument for more, better government to responsibly promote our interests.

Eric: If you don't draw moral lines, and merely put your faith in people's ability to influence their government to govern well, you will end in a nightmare of disappointment.

PJ: I agree, of course. Citizens must insist that their government represent everyone's shared interests. When it doesn't, they need to speak up and advocate for the necessary changes.

Eric: In my argument, every human being seeks God as his ultimate end. Your end is not defined. If I label it for you--as I am wont to do--as pleasure, a bit of a crude translation, you resist, saying that this is not what you mean. If I point out that you cannot have society as a good because society can be, and often is, bad, you again reject my claim and point out that it is more nuanced than that. Very well, but you cannot expect me to believe that a series of "goods", rooted in nothing more than wishful thinking, can possibly be a reasonable way to ground a system of ethics. If you do not tell men what to aim at, they will inevitably find lousy targets. And hit them.

PJ: Well, you're right that I won't tell you what specific actions you need to take in order to have an ethical life, because I believe that there are many different ways to lead such a life. And, in my view, my position fairs rather better than yours with reference to the target metaphor. It is much easier to form a concrete conception of the good life, and to see that it can only be achieved with and for other people in just institutions, than it is to form an action-guiding conception of God.

Eric: Chesterton's point was that everyone starts with the understanding that evil exists. We have atheists like Woody Allen who lament the underachiever for creating a world so full of evil. Meanwhile, Christians wrestle with what is probably the most significant objection to the existence of an all-powerful and all-good Being. In fact, according to Aquinas, the existence of evil is the only real objection to the existence of God--though not an unanswerable one.

PJ: I don't expect that we will ever eliminate evil -- and so we must always have some mechanism for managing its presence as best we can, when it appears -- but I don't see how this problem has any kind of foundational importance. (Additionally, some people do dispute your claim about the universality of our understanding of evil -- the argument of Nietzsche's Genealogy of Morals, for instance, is intended to debunk this prejudice.)

Eric: Chesterton's point was that there were two good explanations for the evil present in every one of us. The first is the atheist's: The absence of God is all that is necessary for evil to triumph. But the Christian has his explanation as well: Man has disobeyed, and is separated from God; but once God deigned to walk among us, and paid the price for our disobedience; through Him we may be saved. In other words, evil is a result of sin.

PJ: It's not possible to explain a positive phenomenon with reference to a non-existent entity, so Chesterton's atheist is a strawman. In any case, I'm not sure there is evil in all of us, at least not according to my earlier definition of evil as seeking to cause suffering for its own sake. Perhaps you can explain your position here?

Eric: We can concoct any number of scenarios in which it would be better to immolate oneself by fire. A widow would possibly endure great suffering, especially as her failure to immolate herself would cause social ostracization. It would be likewise difficult, based on what you have said, to have convinced Hitler to have refrained from eating his gun. Or, to use another example, if Christ, while waiting for Pilate's decision, would have drank the hemlock offered to Socrates, He would have relieved Himself of tremendous suffering. Only a firm grounding in the goodness of human life, regardless of the pain it suffers, offers a legitimate defense against the evil of suicide, in any of its forms.

PJ: This is completely consistent with my eudaimonistic position, as should be abundantly clear from what I've written heretofore. Notice too that I carefully specified that suffering is not a merely physical notion, but that the worst kind of suffering is spiritual, i.e., having to do with human freedom, with our inability to freely articulate and pursue our own conception of the good life.

Eric: I think the answer is to pray fervently, and to evangelize, which often leads to martyrdom, the blood of which was the seed of the Church, in Tertulian's phrase.

PJ: To the first part of this, all I can say is that I'll throw in my lot with democratic action over prayer any day (and you accuse me of wishful thinking!). The second part I find more alarming. The idea seems to be to provoke (and disavow) violence in order to spread an ideology that would otherwise, on its own merits, be rejected? (The more Catholic the world is, the more ethical, the closer we all are to our One True Purpose.) The reasoning here strikes me as dangerously close to that of the 9-11 hijackers. I don't expect I have to ask, after that accusation, but anything you could do to clarify your position here would be most helpful.

This comes very close to some of my more general practical/ethical/political objections to religion. It seems to me any time a group of people think that they are in touch with a super-human truth and thereby endowed with a transcendent purpose, that jihadist and Inquisition-style projects begin to look alarming rational. After all, if you really believe that our immortal souls are at stake, or that you are doing the Work of the Almighty, a few human lives looks like an acceptable price to pay (however regrettable it may be that they declined your impassioned appeals to convert, refused to see the truth, etc.).

Eric: My antipathy toward the World Democratic Revolution in Iraq is that the exchange of human life is not worth the establishment of a so-called democracy. Actually, I think democracy, or at least the principles of universal suffrage, to be among the silliest of the ideas advanced by human kind.

PJ: I'm also opposed to imposing external values on other people, as individuals or as a nation -- even when I think it is evident that the new system is ethically superior to the old. To be authentically binding, values must emerge out of one's own experience or an experience one can identify with, one that emerges from one's own situation as a solution to its then characteristic problems, etc. Your second claim shocks me. Can you explain why you think that democracy (or universal suffrage) is "among the silliest of the ideas advanced by humankind"? I mean, what kind of government do you support? Where does the government get its authority if not from the will of the people to be governed? And how can anyone be assured that the interests of the people are served except by making one's case to them as a condition for holding office?

Eric: More on point, you essentially concede that you have nothing to offer a community, whose ideas differ from your own, in the way of a rational argument. Cultural relativism, which you seem, at times, to support, renders moral progress impossible, because it removes the standard by which such progress may be judged.

PJ: I concede no such thing. I claim simply that there are many ways to lead an ethical life, and that I do not presume, a priori, to know the conditions under which my way might be an improvement for anyone else. In any case, it's both easy and useless to pass judgment on other people, whatever their culture. The real challenge is to effect reform, and I think I have the conceptual framework, in terms of human flourishing and suffering, to make the case for improvement on an individual basis.

PJ (earlier): People suffer needlessly whenever they are denied the proper conditions for flourishing, whenever they are deprived of existing resources for free self-actualization.

Eric: But you've repeatedly stated that freedom must be constrained by society. Self-actualization--do what thou wilt--is consistent only with anarchy. You could argue, as Christians do, that freedom consists in choosing to do good, but, again, this leaves you with the need to draw some lines or define some goods.

PJ: Self-actualization is not "do what thou wilt." Furthermore, it is constrained by society primarily in the sense of being made possible by society, because it's only in terms of the language and practices handed down to me by my historical community that I can articulate a self-conception to actualize. Society, here, is not a force outside of the individual to which it could be opposed. Do you understand the point I'm trying to make here? It runs counter to some popular intuitions, but I think it's incredibly important to appreciate, philosophically. To your request, I still don't understand what you want in terms of lines or definitions beyond what I've already said. I just don't believe that the subject matter of ethics can be deduced a priori or catalogued exhaustively.

Eric: I have two things to add in closing. First, I came across this quote from Sartre in my readings of Kreeft's excerpts of Aquinas: "There can be no eternal truth since there is no divine mind to think it." Do you agree?

PJ: I suppose I probably do. Truths have a "subjective ontology," which is just a fancy way of saying that they exist only in thought (even if their objects -- the content that makes them true -- often exist independently of whatever we may think). Since there was a time when there was no one thinking, and since there will be such a time again, we can say for this reason that there are no eternal truths. But I don't know if this is what Sartre meant. Why do you ask?

Eric: Second, setting aside my skepticism toward macro-evolution, when the first human being evolved, was it a moral agent? Or did it require the evolution of other humans for him to achieve that status?

PJ: Your skepticism toward macro-evolution? We better not get into that. To your question, I suppose that custom provided our early ancestors with a minimal kind of ethics. Even hunter-gatherers had to be able to depend on one another, to cooperate, to raise children, and so forth. (So you seem to have mischaracterized the situation when you suggest that a solitary human being evolved such as could wait around for others to join him.) In any case, I very much doubt they had our highly reflexive kind of moral consciousness.

I continue to enjoy the conversation, and, as usual, I look forward to your response.

Best regards,
PJ