The end of The Elements of Moral Philosophy leaves us with a few half-baked chapters. First we see absolutism, then Immanuel Kant, and then Rachels kind of drops feminism, ethics of care, and ethics of virtue in there haphazardly. Much of the book's substance is over by this point, and our class finished with the book at chapter 10. Still, now that I have read some more stuff dealing with these latter topics, I actually feel like continuing with this critique of Rachels.
Chapter 9: Are There Absolute Moral Rules?
My answer: No, and there shouldn't be. Rachels starts out detailing the end of World War II, and specifically the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Whereas most people see this as a very bad move by the US, it did stop the Japanese. It could be argued that less lives were lost by doing that than would have been lost if the fighting had continued. Whether that's true or not can never be known. The difference, of course, is that at least those people who would've died would've known beforehand that it was a likely thing, and/or they would've been risking their lives willingly. Rachels points out that there was such consideration at the time, since obviously people don't like the thought of killing innocent noncombatants.
But Elizabeth Anscombe, whom Rachels calls, "one of the 20th century's most distinguished philosophers, and the greatest woman philosopher in history," says that such an act was tantamount to murder. Of course, no one really argues against that fact. Maybe it was a pacifying move, one that potentially saved more lives than it ended (taking it back to a Utilitarian perspective), but it definitely is still murder. However, Anscombe goes so far as to say that certain things should never be done, no matter what. "Come now," she says, "if you had to choose between boiling one baby and letting some frightful disaster befall a thousand people--or a million people, if a thousand is not enough--what would you do?"
I always thought this was a dumb example. Obviously you'd boil the baby, since not doing so would be murder as well. Anscombe basically asks, "would you give one innocent infant a horrible death, or give thousands/millions of people horrible deaths?" If you have no other choice, the Utilitarian response makes the most sense. Her insistence that "some things may not be done, no matter what" doesn't make sense. As I pointed out, and which Rachels even briefly hints at...absolute moral rules don't make sense unless there is an accounting of our actions after death. If what we do is best for everyone, does it really matter what rules we broke? Absolute moral rules only make sense in a theological context, where our strict adherence will eventually benefit us (and then it is a form of Ethical Egoism, in a way). If we allow for something like Divine Command Theory, then Anscombe would probably be right. I don't think she really gives a good reason why the rules have to be absolute, though.
Next, Rachels brings out Kant. If you've never read Kant, be warned. If you never will, count your blessings. He is, by far, one of the toughest writers to understand. I actually had to look at some of his stuff for my Intro to Literary Studies class, and I had no fucking clue what he was talking about until we discussed it in depth. Luckily, Rachels provides a very simple way of grasping his core ideas. Kant, as he points out, "argued that lying is wrong under any circumstances. He did not appeal to theological considerations; he held, instead, that reason always forbids lying." First, he shows Kant's imperatives. The "hypothetical imperative" is the thing you "ought" to do if you want to achieve a goal. Examples: "If you want to become a better chess player, you ought to study the games of Garry Kasparov. If you want to go to college, you ought to take the SAT." They are simply reasonable things to do if you want a certain outcome. You aren't morally bound to do them.
But the Categorical Imperative is another story. Moral oughts, as he says, are categorical: "They have the form 'You ought to do such-and-such, period,'" regardless of your desires. Whereas "hypothetical 'oughts' are possible because we have desires, categorical oughts are possible because we have reason." The Categorical Imperative, in one of its forms, is stated thus: "Act only according to that maxim by which you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law." Whenever you do something, ask what it would mean if everyone in the world did the same thing in your position. An example: "Suppose, he says, a man needs money, but no one will lend it to him unless he promises to pay it back--which he knows he won't be able to do. Should he make a false promise to get the loan? If he did, his maxim would be: Whenever you need a loan, promise to repay it, even if you know you can't. Now, could he will that this rule become a universal law? Obviously not, because it would be self-defeating. Once this rule became a universal practice, no one would believe such promises, and so no one would make loans based on them."
Which is a sound argument. Now, let's return to lying:
"1. We should do only those actions that conform to rules that we could will to be adopted universally.
2. If you were to lie, you would be following the rule "It is okay to lie."
3. This rule could not be adopted universally, because it would be self-defeating: People would stop believing one another, and then it would do no good to lie.
4. Therefore, you should not lie."
Then Anscombe, while she does believe lying is wrong, actually redeems herself as a philosopher by pointing out an error. "Why should we say that, if you lied, you would be following the rule, "It is okay to lie?" Perhaps your maxim would be: 'I will lie when doing so would save someone's life.' That rule would not be self-defeating. It could become a universal law. And so, by Kant's own theory, it would be all right for you to lie. The Categorical Imperative is useless, Anscombe says, without some guidance as to how to formulate rules." This isn't necessarily a problem for the theory, since if we allow for this nuance of discretion, then we would end up taking each moral issue on a case-by-case basis. This new branch of the Categorical Imperative could create a set of absolute rules that don't generalize. Generalization, after all, leads to hasty decisions that gloss over the specific circumstances, not giving proper consideration to the consequences of your actions.
Another case is that of the Inquiring Murderer. It was a challenge given to Kant by his contemporaries, in which "someone is fleeing from a murderer and tells you that he is going home to hide. Then the murderer comes by and asks you where the man is. You believe that, if you tell the truth, you will be aiding in murder. Furthermore, the killer is already headed the right way, so if you simply remain silent, the worst result is likely." In this scenario, Kant still says you should tell the truth, because you can't be sure that lying will save the man's life. It is better, then, to avoid the known evil of lying, and let whatever consequences there are happen. Rachels is good enough to point out the huge flaw in this logic: that no one knows what will happen either way, and Kant is being rather pessimistic about what lying can achieve. After all, if you tell the truth, there is a very good chance that the murder will occur, while lying exponentially increases the probability that it won't. Giving exceptions as examples against lying makes no sense, because the whole point of lying is to make the murder less likely to happen. As Rachels says, "This points to the main difficulty for the belief in absolute rules: shouldn't a rule be broken when following it would be disastrous?"
The next section talks about what would happen if you must choose between two wrong actions. If you can only choose two things, and both are things that absolute rules would say are wrong to ever do, what choice should you make? Peter Geach, Anscombe's husband, says that such situations do not occur. His argument is that God does not allow such things to happen. Rachels gives an example when it did happen: Dutch fishermen, during World War II, smuggled Jewish refugees to England in their boats, and were stopped by a Nazi patrol. They were asked who was on board. Now, they had two choices: either lie, and save the Jews, or tell the truth, and let them get killed. Obviously, either choice breaks an absolute moral rule (lying or aiding murder). Rachels gives one limitation of this argument: it only works when there is a pair of alternatives. As he says, "The argument won't stop someone from believing that there is just one absolute rule. And, in a way, everyone does. 'Do what is right.
'" He goes on to say that such a rule, "Do what is right," is "so formal that it is trivial--we believe it because it doesn't really say anything." While I agree that it is a very vague thing, it at least solves problems like these, turning two absolutes into one, and thus making the prohibition against killing more important than the one against lying.
Rachels then has a very silly section where he talks about what we can salvage from Kant's philosophy. He points to the idea that we should only accept those rules that we can accept everyone following all the time, and I guess that makes sense, but I wouldn't say that this is anything new. Social Contract Theory was pretty much the same--better, even, because it allowed for change in its formulation, whereas Kant's idea is more strict. So Rachels is okay in this area, but I still think it gives Kant too much credit.
None of this is to say that absolute moral rules are bad in and of themselves. It's not really a theory, but I still think that objectively this idea has its merits of internal validity. If Divine Command Theory is right, for instance, then absolute moral rules would work. If you work from a non-religious viewpoint, they could still be true. Since we don't know objectively what the right moral code is, absolute moral rules still have a chance of being true. (Plus, you could say that most theories follow a variation of absolute moral rules, in that they all tackle what it means to "Do what is right," and basically just take Anscombe's idea about how formulating rules doesn't have to be such a broad, general thing.)
Chapter 10: Kant and Respect for Persons
Then he has another chapter just for Kant: not a pointless demarcation like he did with Utilitarianism, but rather one that focuses on completely different aspects of Kant's philosophy. As Rachels says in the beginning of this chapter, "Immanuel Kant thought that human beings occupy a special place in creation." I remember when I used to think the way he did... Basically, he thought that only humans had moral worth, because they could reason. Animals don't deserve the same treatment, and are merely here for humans to enjoy. However, he didn't say animal cruelty was okay. Rather, he said that "'He who is cruel to animals also becomes hard in his dealings with men.'" So the only real reason hurting animals is bad is because it makes us meaner towards humans. I don't really think that makes sense, though, since we have a better capacity for compartmentalization than he credits us with (if I kill a cat, I'm not automatically going to kill the next human I see).
In this chapter, I agree with Rachels's criticism of Kant: in most cases, Kant makes flimsy arguments. This is probably the hardest place for me to stay objective, since I pretty much hate Kant. But his ideas do point out something important I want to highlight.
He believed that humans have moral worth because they are rational agents, and so have the capacity to value things. Basically, the fact that we can value things gives us some sort of intrinsic moral value. Or, said another way, the ability to realize moral value gives us the responsibility to act in a moral way, but only towards other rational agents. After all, only rational agents can reason with you/hear you out/care about morality. In another formulation of the Categorical Imperative, Kant charges, "Act so that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in that of another, always as an end and never as a means."
What does that mean? Basically, don't manipulate people. Kant's example is of a man needing money (yet again) who asks a friend to loan him some, even though he will not be able to pay it back. If he lies to his friend about being able to pay it back, he is manipulating her, and thus using her as a means. If, however, he is truthful with her, she may decide whether or not to loan him the money. In this instance, he is treating her "as an end," giving her the ability "to make that purpose her own," as Rachels puts it. She will be able to make that end her end as well, instead of merely being means towards it. This is respecting her rational agency.
The next section talks about retribution, and Rachels leads it off by talking about how some people see punishment as bad, since it doesn't change the fact that pain was already caused, and it merely inflicts more pain. He goes into how Utilitarianism handles this issue, saying that it's okay if it causes enough good to outweigh the bad. Whether it does is debatable all around, of course, and changes based on the circumstances. The point of Utilitarianism being part of the discussion makes a little more sense here, since it was the main philosophy around Kant's time. Kant didn't like Utilitarianism, because he said it was incompatible with human dignity. It sees people as a means to an end (happiness), and the rehabilitation process it fosters changes people, making them into what society wants them to be, instead of what they want to be. It forces them to be a means towards a different end than the one they want.
Now, I do agree that society itself changes people in such a way (look into the Panopticon and Michel Foucault for this idea). But as far as rehabilitation goes? It changes people, sure, but only in such a way that they are able to better respect others. You'd think Kant would be in favor of it for that very reason. It helps people be rational again! I guess there are good arguments you could make on either side, and I don't think there is any clear answer to this in Kant's worldview. Kant goes on to say that instead people should solely be punished for their crime, and their punishment should be proportionate to their crime. I think it's kinda pointless to say that someone gets punished just because they committed a crime (it creates an obvious implication that they shouldn't do it again, thus does exactly what Kant doesn't want it to do). The second point, though, is something I like. I don't like how far he takes it, though.
It makes perfect sense that worse offenders should get worse punishments. But it doesn't make sense that murderers should always get the death penalty. First of all, obviously not all people accused of murder are actually guilty, and that alone means we should be very, very careful with that form of punishment. Second, there's the age-old argument that an eye for an eye makes the world blind: if we murder a murderer, we become murderers. Third, it takes away their ability to change. What if they rationally decided not to do such a thing ever again? In effect, killing them then would only be using them as a means to reinforce the idea that you shouldn't murder, instead of allowing them to make "not murdering" their end as well.
Then Rachels goes on to give some more ideas Kant has about this. He brings in the idea of responsibility: that since humans are rational, they are responsible for their actions. Reward and punishment, according to Kant, are the only right ways to show your gratitude or resentment towards the rational decisions people make. Then he goes on to say, "Why should you treat everyone alike, regardless of how they have chosen to behave?" He wants people to respond in kind to others, basically making a Golden Rule philosophy. If someone does something terrible to us, they are basically telling us that that is how they want us to act towards them. Rachels makes a good point against him: why should we stoop to their level? If they think it's okay to be mean to us, then Kant would say it's okay to be mean to them. But then wouldn't they assume that our conduct meant that we saw that as an acceptable way to act towards us? It's a vicious circle. If we try to be the better man, though, then they should see that as the way to act towards us, right?
Kant also says that people shouldn't be punished if they aren't rational agents, the same way you wouldn't put animals in jail for acting out. This applies to the mentally handicapped, of course. I can at least credit him with this, but overall I think he puts way too much significance on rationality. Like I said in my last post, the distinction between man and animal is arbitrary: Kant is a blatant speciesist. But does his theory have internal validity? Maybe. I'm not sure what to say about it as far as that goes, since there are a lot of points where his logic doesn't really make sense, but it's possible, I guess.
What I do want to point out, though, is that Kant presumes that intrinsic value exists. That humans have a value above other things because they can reason, and that we should respect that value. It doesn't follow, though, that humans have intrinsic value, or that value comes from rationality. In my opinion, the only reason we believe anything has value is because certain things are beneficial to our survival. As soon as we decide that something is good because we need it to live, we assume that it has intrinsic value, and create hierarchies based on this assumption. But what, really, makes anything valuable? I think that if you consider Kant's viewpoint, you really have to ponder that.
Many people point to a god as the creator of value. If God values something, and he's perfect, what he says about value must be true. But if you go by that argument, you have to ask another question: what gives God value? And what makes that value valuable? Really, this is a pointless question, since no amount of asking these questions will get us to some concrete value system that creates all other subordinate values--unless you take the whole God-is-eternal-and-so-is-value argument, which is just a silly way to get around the question without really giving it consideration. You would still have to answer why that value is valuable. Personally, I think value is always something applied, a measure of how much someone wants, needs, or likes a thing. Nothing is valuable in and of itself. If a God-given intrinsic value did exist, though, I'm not so sure Kant's respect for persons would be the right moral philosophy.
Another case is that of the Inquiring Murderer. It was a challenge given to Kant by his contemporaries, in which "someone is fleeing from a murderer and tells you that he is going home to hide. Then the murderer comes by and asks you where the man is. You believe that, if you tell the truth, you will be aiding in murder. Furthermore, the killer is already headed the right way, so if you simply remain silent, the worst result is likely." In this scenario, Kant still says you should tell the truth, because you can't be sure that lying will save the man's life. It is better, then, to avoid the known evil of lying, and let whatever consequences there are happen. Rachels is good enough to point out the huge flaw in this logic: that no one knows what will happen either way, and Kant is being rather pessimistic about what lying can achieve. After all, if you tell the truth, there is a very good chance that the murder will occur, while lying exponentially increases the probability that it won't. Giving exceptions as examples against lying makes no sense, because the whole point of lying is to make the murder less likely to happen. As Rachels says, "This points to the main difficulty for the belief in absolute rules: shouldn't a rule be broken when following it would be disastrous?"
The next section talks about what would happen if you must choose between two wrong actions. If you can only choose two things, and both are things that absolute rules would say are wrong to ever do, what choice should you make? Peter Geach, Anscombe's husband, says that such situations do not occur. His argument is that God does not allow such things to happen. Rachels gives an example when it did happen: Dutch fishermen, during World War II, smuggled Jewish refugees to England in their boats, and were stopped by a Nazi patrol. They were asked who was on board. Now, they had two choices: either lie, and save the Jews, or tell the truth, and let them get killed. Obviously, either choice breaks an absolute moral rule (lying or aiding murder). Rachels gives one limitation of this argument: it only works when there is a pair of alternatives. As he says, "The argument won't stop someone from believing that there is just one absolute rule. And, in a way, everyone does. 'Do what is right.
'" He goes on to say that such a rule, "Do what is right," is "so formal that it is trivial--we believe it because it doesn't really say anything." While I agree that it is a very vague thing, it at least solves problems like these, turning two absolutes into one, and thus making the prohibition against killing more important than the one against lying.
Rachels then has a very silly section where he talks about what we can salvage from Kant's philosophy. He points to the idea that we should only accept those rules that we can accept everyone following all the time, and I guess that makes sense, but I wouldn't say that this is anything new. Social Contract Theory was pretty much the same--better, even, because it allowed for change in its formulation, whereas Kant's idea is more strict. So Rachels is okay in this area, but I still think it gives Kant too much credit.
None of this is to say that absolute moral rules are bad in and of themselves. It's not really a theory, but I still think that objectively this idea has its merits of internal validity. If Divine Command Theory is right, for instance, then absolute moral rules would work. If you work from a non-religious viewpoint, they could still be true. Since we don't know objectively what the right moral code is, absolute moral rules still have a chance of being true. (Plus, you could say that most theories follow a variation of absolute moral rules, in that they all tackle what it means to "Do what is right," and basically just take Anscombe's idea about how formulating rules doesn't have to be such a broad, general thing.)
Chapter 10: Kant and Respect for Persons
Then he has another chapter just for Kant: not a pointless demarcation like he did with Utilitarianism, but rather one that focuses on completely different aspects of Kant's philosophy. As Rachels says in the beginning of this chapter, "Immanuel Kant thought that human beings occupy a special place in creation." I remember when I used to think the way he did... Basically, he thought that only humans had moral worth, because they could reason. Animals don't deserve the same treatment, and are merely here for humans to enjoy. However, he didn't say animal cruelty was okay. Rather, he said that "'He who is cruel to animals also becomes hard in his dealings with men.'" So the only real reason hurting animals is bad is because it makes us meaner towards humans. I don't really think that makes sense, though, since we have a better capacity for compartmentalization than he credits us with (if I kill a cat, I'm not automatically going to kill the next human I see).
In this chapter, I agree with Rachels's criticism of Kant: in most cases, Kant makes flimsy arguments. This is probably the hardest place for me to stay objective, since I pretty much hate Kant. But his ideas do point out something important I want to highlight.
He believed that humans have moral worth because they are rational agents, and so have the capacity to value things. Basically, the fact that we can value things gives us some sort of intrinsic moral value. Or, said another way, the ability to realize moral value gives us the responsibility to act in a moral way, but only towards other rational agents. After all, only rational agents can reason with you/hear you out/care about morality. In another formulation of the Categorical Imperative, Kant charges, "Act so that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in that of another, always as an end and never as a means."
What does that mean? Basically, don't manipulate people. Kant's example is of a man needing money (yet again) who asks a friend to loan him some, even though he will not be able to pay it back. If he lies to his friend about being able to pay it back, he is manipulating her, and thus using her as a means. If, however, he is truthful with her, she may decide whether or not to loan him the money. In this instance, he is treating her "as an end," giving her the ability "to make that purpose her own," as Rachels puts it. She will be able to make that end her end as well, instead of merely being means towards it. This is respecting her rational agency.
The next section talks about retribution, and Rachels leads it off by talking about how some people see punishment as bad, since it doesn't change the fact that pain was already caused, and it merely inflicts more pain. He goes into how Utilitarianism handles this issue, saying that it's okay if it causes enough good to outweigh the bad. Whether it does is debatable all around, of course, and changes based on the circumstances. The point of Utilitarianism being part of the discussion makes a little more sense here, since it was the main philosophy around Kant's time. Kant didn't like Utilitarianism, because he said it was incompatible with human dignity. It sees people as a means to an end (happiness), and the rehabilitation process it fosters changes people, making them into what society wants them to be, instead of what they want to be. It forces them to be a means towards a different end than the one they want.
Now, I do agree that society itself changes people in such a way (look into the Panopticon and Michel Foucault for this idea). But as far as rehabilitation goes? It changes people, sure, but only in such a way that they are able to better respect others. You'd think Kant would be in favor of it for that very reason. It helps people be rational again! I guess there are good arguments you could make on either side, and I don't think there is any clear answer to this in Kant's worldview. Kant goes on to say that instead people should solely be punished for their crime, and their punishment should be proportionate to their crime. I think it's kinda pointless to say that someone gets punished just because they committed a crime (it creates an obvious implication that they shouldn't do it again, thus does exactly what Kant doesn't want it to do). The second point, though, is something I like. I don't like how far he takes it, though.
It makes perfect sense that worse offenders should get worse punishments. But it doesn't make sense that murderers should always get the death penalty. First of all, obviously not all people accused of murder are actually guilty, and that alone means we should be very, very careful with that form of punishment. Second, there's the age-old argument that an eye for an eye makes the world blind: if we murder a murderer, we become murderers. Third, it takes away their ability to change. What if they rationally decided not to do such a thing ever again? In effect, killing them then would only be using them as a means to reinforce the idea that you shouldn't murder, instead of allowing them to make "not murdering" their end as well.
Then Rachels goes on to give some more ideas Kant has about this. He brings in the idea of responsibility: that since humans are rational, they are responsible for their actions. Reward and punishment, according to Kant, are the only right ways to show your gratitude or resentment towards the rational decisions people make. Then he goes on to say, "Why should you treat everyone alike, regardless of how they have chosen to behave?" He wants people to respond in kind to others, basically making a Golden Rule philosophy. If someone does something terrible to us, they are basically telling us that that is how they want us to act towards them. Rachels makes a good point against him: why should we stoop to their level? If they think it's okay to be mean to us, then Kant would say it's okay to be mean to them. But then wouldn't they assume that our conduct meant that we saw that as an acceptable way to act towards us? It's a vicious circle. If we try to be the better man, though, then they should see that as the way to act towards us, right?
Kant also says that people shouldn't be punished if they aren't rational agents, the same way you wouldn't put animals in jail for acting out. This applies to the mentally handicapped, of course. I can at least credit him with this, but overall I think he puts way too much significance on rationality. Like I said in my last post, the distinction between man and animal is arbitrary: Kant is a blatant speciesist. But does his theory have internal validity? Maybe. I'm not sure what to say about it as far as that goes, since there are a lot of points where his logic doesn't really make sense, but it's possible, I guess.
What I do want to point out, though, is that Kant presumes that intrinsic value exists. That humans have a value above other things because they can reason, and that we should respect that value. It doesn't follow, though, that humans have intrinsic value, or that value comes from rationality. In my opinion, the only reason we believe anything has value is because certain things are beneficial to our survival. As soon as we decide that something is good because we need it to live, we assume that it has intrinsic value, and create hierarchies based on this assumption. But what, really, makes anything valuable? I think that if you consider Kant's viewpoint, you really have to ponder that.
Many people point to a god as the creator of value. If God values something, and he's perfect, what he says about value must be true. But if you go by that argument, you have to ask another question: what gives God value? And what makes that value valuable? Really, this is a pointless question, since no amount of asking these questions will get us to some concrete value system that creates all other subordinate values--unless you take the whole God-is-eternal-and-so-is-value argument, which is just a silly way to get around the question without really giving it consideration. You would still have to answer why that value is valuable. Personally, I think value is always something applied, a measure of how much someone wants, needs, or likes a thing. Nothing is valuable in and of itself. If a God-given intrinsic value did exist, though, I'm not so sure Kant's respect for persons would be the right moral philosophy.
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