Moral
emotions develop prior to moral reasoning, appearing in a child around her
first birthday‑about the same time as she begins to walk and talk. Just as the capacity for language and bipedal
locomotion are innate, so the moral emotions arise naturally. In adults, moral reasoning is a necessary
handmaiden to these emotions. This is
so, I submit, for two basic reasons.
First, it is frequently necessary for two or more human beings to reach
an agreement about their mutual obligations, in order to promote cooperation
and avoid conflict. Second, human beings
have a natural desire for justification, both because we want to feel that our own
actions are right and that actions that offend us are wrong and also because we
want to believe in the moral rules toward which our passions are inclined. It is the latter that interests us in moral
dramas, which are the larger part of the stories that we tell one another.
This desire
for justification is usually satisfied by appeal to some standard that we
regard as impeccable. So, for example,
if I suppose that “all men are created equal” is such a standard, I may appeal
to it in arguing against the institution of slavery or for or against
affirmative action. However, while there
may be universally accepted moral standards (it can be argued that every human
culture recognizes some form of reciprocity as a basis for justice) this does
not mean that there is any moral standard that cannot be subject to
challenge. The history of moral thought
has been driven by an attempt to discover the fundamental moral standard or
standards.
Despite
the apparent diversity of moral cultures, there are really only two candidates
for the foundations of morality. Either
the foundation lies in some transcendent, metaphysically impeccable act of
legislation or it lies in some understanding of the human good that is
accessible to our intelligence. These
are famously referred to as revelation and reason. The two standards are not necessarily
exclusive. Someone who holds revelation
to be primary may acknowledge that some moral principles have sufficient reason
behind them. Someone who holds reason to
be primary may see utility in the belief in divine sanction, whether or not
that belief is well-founded. The primacy
of revelation is necessarily theological in character whereas the primacy of
reason is necessarily philosophical.
Modern
ethical thought was long dominated by two philosophical positions:
utilitarianism, which ground morality in a lowest denominator of common
interest, and deontology, which grounds morality in the passion for integrity. Recently, however, classical virtue ethics
has made something of a comeback. It is
with the latter that I am here concerned.
Virtue
ethics was originally articulated and defended by the classical philosophers
Plato and Aristotle. The latter’s
account was so thorough that virtue ethics may never go further than crafting a
series of footnotes to his Nicomachean
Ethics. Virtue, or areté in the Greek, means simply excellence. Whenever anything or any practice may be
judged to be better or worse, the possibility of the best or the excellent
presents itself. So, to use a familiar
example, a racehorse will be in a bad, or good, better or best condition for
running a race. The best horse on the
best day will be an example of the areté of racehorses.
Likewise
a human being may be better or worse at some essential activity. Since the best human life requires a number
of distinct activities‑for example, entering into cooperative arrangements with
mutual obligations or defending the constitution against enemies foreign and
domestic‑there will be a number of distinct human virtues. In its larger meaning, areté can be displayed
in any activity that admits of better and worse performance. Thus someone might have a linguistic virtue
if he speaks or writes very well in some language. Both sports and military service will be
fields for human virtue.
In its
narrower ethical sense, virtue means moral excellence. Morality is another of those dimensions that
define the human being. It appears
whenever there is a difference between what I am tempted to do and what I ought
to do, what seems good and what is in fact good. While there is a tendency in modern ethical
thought to confine morality to the obligations that human beings have toward
one another, this is rather two narrow.
I can be tempted to do what is bad for myself just as I can be tempted
to do what is bad for another or for us, and human beings frequently feel shame
and guilt when we succumb to temptations that harm only no one but the
tempted. Moral emotions are evidence
enough of moral significance.
Moral
virtue is then a capacity for excellence in moral actions. The virtuous person can be counted upon to do
what is right in each situation. She
does so not only reliably but in a way that is natural or unforced. She will recognize temptations to do wrong in
others and perhaps even in herself; however, temptation has little or no power
over her. She has formed the habit of
acting rightly. She does this, moreover,
knowing full well what she is doing. In
a morally significant situation she will not have to pause for reflection;
however, afterwards she can explain exactly why what she did was the right
thing to do.
Julie
Annas skillfully employs an analogy between virtue and practical skills in her excellent
book: Intelligent Virtue. Someone who begins to learn to play the piano
begins by imitating his teachers. He
begins to acquire the skill of piano playing by playing the piano the way
others, whom he admires, play it. He can
learn to play at all only because he possesses the capacity to learn. If his talent is mediocre, he will not go
beyond mere imitation. If his talent is
more than mediocre and her persists in developing it, he will eventually go
beyond imitation to produce his own interpretation of musical works. He will creatively respond to each passage in
a way that makes sense of the work as a whole both to himself and to the
skilled listener. There is a reciprocal
or better yet dynamic relationship between action and skill: one becomes a
skillful player by playing skillfully and one plays skillfully because one is a
skillful player.
Likewise
with the virtues, one begins to develop them by imitating others and following
set rules. To the degree that one
acquires the virtues, one will go beyond imitation to respond creatively and
appropriately to novel situations. One
will be admirable in the eyes of anyone who can appreciate virtue. Such an admirer will recognize that one is a
virtuous person because one does virtuous things and he will recognize that the
actions are admirable and worthy of imitation because these are what a virtuous
person does.
If that
looks like circular reasoning, look again.
It is not a circle but a dynamic.
One cannot understand what a virtue is except by understanding the
dynamic process by which it is developed.
At some point one may ask, however, what it is about virtuous actions
and virtuous persons that make them valuable.
What is the good of being good?
Aristotle
says in his Nicomachean Ethics that there are three things that are
intrinsically worthy of choosing or taking up and three things that are to be
avoided. The former are the beautiful,
the provisional, and the pleasant. The
latter are the disgusting, the harmful, and the painful. Virtuous actions are surely not chosen for
the sake of mere pleasure. Doing what is
just or generous will often involve pain.
Virtuous actions are those mostly likely to be provisional in the sense
that they are the actions most likely, in most situations, to achieve the best
outcome. The virtuous person will be
best able to achieve the best human life.
She will provide for herself, her family and friends, and her polis.
She will beat the odds whenever the odds are beatable.
Sometimes
the odds will not be beatable. Virtuous
actions do not guarantee victory; they only guarantee that one will deserve
victory. A brave man or woman may be
overcome by outrageous fortune; still, where the outcome is tragic the virtuous
deed will be beautiful. Moral virtue is
valuable enough because it is useful.
The virtuous person is most likely to live the best life in any
circumstances and most likely to help his friends to do the same. The primary value of virtue, however, lies
not in its usefulness but in its beauty.
The virtuous person is the beautiful person. Her deeds are beautiful deeds. The beautiful is not only the thing most resistant
to ill-fortune; it is the best thing to which human beings can aspire.
I like the idea of learning to be virtuous, rather than just being either blessed with virtue or cursed with the lack of it. I do, however, have two questions.
ReplyDeleteFirst, you write, "Virtuous actions are those mostly likely to be provisional in the sense that they are the actions most likely, in most situations, to achieve the best outcome. The virtuous person will be best able to achieve the best human life. She will provide for herself, her family and friends, and her polis."
I would like this to be true - but is it? If so, how do we know? Many of the people in society who seem to be able to best provide for their families, friends and cities do not seem particularly virtuous - unless the version of morality you are writing about is Machiavelli's.
Second, what exactly is "beauty?" and is it of more, less or equal value than usefulness?
Miranda: thank you for the very thought-provoking questions. I have responded in a separate post.
ReplyDelete