Moral Guides

Over at TNR's Open University, David Greenberg wrote:

I once heard Paul Berman, in toasting Michael Walzer, say (and I'm paraphrasing) that when tough questions arise, he asks, "What would Michael Walzer think?" In other words, he looks to Walzer as a moral guide, a man whose opinions he might regard as wiser than his own. I've thought the same about my fellow Open U contributor Alan Wolfe. When Alan offers an opinion, it has to be taken seriously, and it often causes me to revise my own.

That immediately made me think of Hilzoy of Obsidian Wings. (Posts like this are the reason why.)

Whose opinions do you regard as wiser than your own?

"Fundamentalist" Atheists

Oh please, not more of this sillyness:

"Atheists like the Richard Dawkins of this world are just as fundamentalist as the people setting off bombs on the tube, the hardline settlers on the West Bank and the anti-gay bigots of the Church of England. Most of them would regard each other as destined to fry in hell.

"You have a triangle with fundamentalist secularists in one corner, fundamentalist faith people in another, and then the intelligent, thinking liberals of Anglicanism, Roman Catholicism, baptism, methodism, other faiths - and, indeed, thinking atheists - in the other corner." says Slee [the Dean of Southwark].

The people who bandy about these insults never seem to bother addressing Dawkins' standard response (HT B&W):

"Fundamentalist" usually means, "goes by the book." And so, a religious fundamentalist goes back to the fundamentals of The Bible or The Koran and says, "nothing can change." Of course, that's not the case with any scientist, and certainly not with me. So, I'm not a fundamentalist in that sense.

Similarly for accusations of "dogmatism". Almost any atheist will grant that their non-belief is provisional, and open to change if contrary evidence were to appear. Sadly, too many reporters and religious commentators seem incapable of distinguishing dogmatism from confident (but evidence-responsive) belief.

Note that one might have a very high degree of belief in some proposition, without thereby being at all dogmatic. I'm extremely confident that unicorns do not exist. But I'm not an "no-unicorns dogmatist", because new evidence could always change my mind. That's how rationality works. You align your degree of belief with your assessment of the evidence. The evidence (that I'm aware of) is stacked against gods and unicorns, so I don't believe in either. If my evidence changes, then so will my beliefs. Simple.

Probably what the critics are really meaning to get at is the idea that some atheists are outspoken and "evangelical", and hope to persuade others to their point of view. But isn't free inquiry and public debate a good thing? (Of course there are some contexts where criticising others' views would be inappropriate. But not all. There is a place for robust theological, no less than political, public debate.)

It's entirely possible for reasonable, "thinking atheists" to be strongly opposed to religion. Some may be opposed to religion because they think it is socially pernicious, propping up morally unjustifiable positions (e.g. anti-gay bigotry). Others may be principled evidentialists, and hold that one ought to believe what the evidence supports. They then oppose religion for the same reason they do astrology -- it's unsupported nonsense, and people are being unreasonable when they believe that stuff. Either basis for hostility seems perfectly reasonable to me.

At the end of the day, people who denounce "militant atheists" are promoting a double-standard, insulating religious beliefs from criticism when no-one would dream of offering other beliefs such protection. Over to Dawkins:

The world is made safe for people like [the 'God Hates Fags' crowd] and Osama Bin Laden because we've all been brainwashed to respect religious faith and not to criticize it with the same vigor we criticize political and other sorts of opinions that we disagree with.

If you can say, "such and such a view is part of my religion," everybody tiptoes away with great respect. "Oh, it's part of your religion," then of course, you must go ahead. In a way, we've been asking for trouble by moderate people persuading us to give to all religion a respect, which it has never done anything to deserve.

Religion and Deliberation

The upcoming Carnival of Citizens sports a "Church and State" theme. There's a lot that could be said here, but for this post I want to look at how religion fits with a deliberative conception of democracy.

The right policy is that which the general public would converge upon, following informed ideal deliberation. In reality, that ideal remains out of reach; but we do the best we can. As a deliberative democrat, I hold that we should promote informed deliberation among citizens, in hopes that the best-justified positions will ultimately carry the day.

Receptivity is a key value here: it's vital to note that public debate is not merely another instrument of power, manipulating others to do as you want. Rather, it is seen as a co-operative, rational enterprise. We all have the shared goal of promoting justice and the good. We may have divergent ideas about what exactly this involves. But, recognizing our own fallibility, we remain open to the possibility of changing our minds, if faced with stronger opposing arguments. In short, deliberative democracy is about civic respect, or the commitment to an inclusive and collaborative politics: working together to discern the right action, rather than unilaterally forcing my views on others.

So, where does religion fit into all this? I guess that depends on the nature of the religion, and the way one tries to bring it into politics. If one's religion is based on public reason, then I see no problem in principle. For example, if you think that God's hand is evident in nature, and his perfect character transparent to reason, then you may try to bring me to see this. If there are good reasons to think that scripture provides an accurate moral guide, then you can share those reasons with me. We might argue about the correct interpretation, or even about whether the purported Holy Book is a relevant guide at all, but those are issues to be settled through deliberation; the answers are not "given", or something we can know prior to inquiry. They are entirely appropriate for public debate.

On the other hand, the more dogmatic forms of religion have no place here, for they are inconsistent with civic respect. For example, if you are certain that the truth has been revealed to your group alone, and that all others are irredeemably blind to it, then you will be incapable of meaningful deliberation with them. The dogmatist is not receptive to alternative possibilities, and may see no point in collaborating with "morally degenerate" infidels. He has no respect for their civic autonomy -- their ability to reason about what sort of society ours should be, or how we should live together. To the dogmatist, sure of his own infallibility, people who disagree are merely obstacles to achieving what he already knows is "right".

There's nothing essentially religious about such attitudes, of course. Dogmatism comes in all stripes. But religion can be especially conducive to it, and the risk is heightened if a religious group happen to form a majority. They may seek simply to impose their private reasons ("faith") on the broader public, without any adequate justification. But that's not democracy. It's civil war.

Blogging Philosophy

A while back I was interviewed by Ophelia Benson for an article in The Philosophers' Magazine on philosophy and blogging (placing me in the esteemed company of Nigel Warburton, Brian Leiter, and H.E. Baber). The article itself doesn't seem to be available online yet [update: now it is], but my own thoughts can be found below. Feel free to add your own...

1. What motivated you to take up blogging?

I was just starting to really get into philosophy, and I found that I had a lot of ideas but nowhere to put them. So I created a blog to serve as a kind of notebook. Soon others joined in, which added a whole new dimension to the experience. (As a student hidden away in New Zealand, it was an invaluable opportunity to discuss philosophy with students half the world away.) And of course now there's a thriving online philosophical community, complete with carnivals and all...

2. Do you think blogs are a good medium for philosophy?

I think there are three kinds of philosophical activity to which blogs are especially well suited. First is the exploration of half-baked ideas, to get some early feedback and test their potential for further development. Secondly, blogs are a great study and teaching tool, as students can attempt to summarize an issue, and their readers may respond to help correct any misunderstandings. (A good summary may also benefit the readers' knowledge, of course.) Finally, a tightly focused blog post can make technical contributions in response to other work, perhaps critiquing a particular step in an argument, or offering an alleged counterexample.

Of course, blogs are no replacement for the sustained philosophy one finds in longer articles and book-length treatments. But, in light of the above, I'd say that they at least have a valuable supplementary role to play. Blogs are a good medium for some philosophy.

3. Do you think they're a good thing more generally?

Yeah, I think so. Like the internet more generally, blogs enable us to overcome geographic boundaries to communication. That's got to be a good thing. I guess it's the political ones that are most controversial in this regard -- there may be worries about group polarization and "echo chamber" effects, for example. But I'm optimistic that they can also serve to promote reasoned dialogue, so I'm working on a new "Carnival of Citizens" to this effect.

4. Do you think there are any drawbacks to blogging as a popular medium? If so, do you think they're more acute for philosophy (and/or academic subjects in general)?

Blog posts tend to have a short shelf life, typically dying away after a short burst of discussion. Academic topics may benefit from more sustained attention. But again, there are other mediums to provide that -- so long as blogs don't presume to provide everything, such limitations needn't be a problem.

Assembly-line Schooling

Alvin Toffler declaims outdated, regimented educational systems, "designed to produce industrial workers." Worse, it appears the assembly line is not only the end, but also the means, of traditional (one-size-fits-all) schooling. So Toffler asks:

Why is everything massified in the system, rather than individualized in the system? New technologies make possible customization in a way that the old system -- everybody reading the same textbook at the same time -- did not offer.

Richard Florida agrees:

Our schools are the opposite of what is needed: hierarchical, mind-numbing, creativity-squelching machines. So the need for transformation: But, what exactly comes next? ...

It's hard to sketch the system out in advance, but the core principles to build around are readily apparent: a shared curriculum on a technology platform that enables flexible and asynchronous learning anywhere, anyplace, anytime; challenge and intrinsic reward over grades (and ridiculous standardized tests); community based engagement and socialization; and a wide range of ala carte instructional offerings. [Link added]

Perhaps schools have simply heeded The Onion's warning:

The Department of Health and Human Services issued a series of guidelines... titled "Boundless Imagination, Boundless Hazards: Ways To Keep Your Kids Safe From A World Of Wonder"...

Although the exact number of child fatalities connected to an active imagination is unknown, experts say the danger is very real. According to a 2006 estimate, children who regularly engage in imagination are 10 times more likely to suffer injuries such as skinned knees from mythical quests, or bruises and serious falls from the peak of Bookcase Mountain...

"To truly protect your children, you must go to great lengths to completely eliminate their curiosity, crush their spirit of amazement, and eradicate their childlike glee. Watch for the danger signs: faraway expressions, giggle fits, and a general air of carefree contentment."

Classic.

Philosophers' Carnival #43

... is here!

Don't let the poor earn money!

Huh. Women will be paid £250 to donate their eggs for scientific research, on the condition that "they are acting for altruistic reasons" and don't really need the money. There are reportedly worries that "poor women could be tempted" by the offer, though philosopher Colin Farrelly is relieved that "the amount of money involved here is modest", thus reducing the risk of poor people improving their lot being "exploited".

Ethicists do puzzle me sometimes. I've written about these sorts of cases before. Compare three scenarios:

1) The status quo: some people are desperately poor, and will remain that way.
2) Allow voluntary exchanges: some of those desperately poor people will choose to do things to improve their lot. (They might not especially wish to do those things, but they wish to remain desperately poor even less.)
3) Redistribution: provide a basic income or the like, to ensure that nobody is desperately poor in the first place.

Now, I think that option #3 is far and away the best. No-one should be so poor as to find exploitation preferable to the status quo. It's unconscionable. But it's also reality, at least for the moment. And given how awful the status quo is for them, we should surely allow them every opportunity to improve their lot. That is, #2 -- whilst unfortunate -- is a hell of a lot better than #1. So why would anyone defend the status quo, and seek to prevent the "exploitation" that's one of the few opportunities for these people to improve their situation? What's so damn ethical about keeping them miserably poor?

As a general rule, the way to respect another person is to let them decide. So think about it. Would poor women want the option to sell their eggs for a decent amount of money? I can't be sure, of course -- it may create new risks of coercion -- but I imagine most would want the option. (In a real democracy, someone would actually ask them.) So it would be awfully paternalistic to deny this to them, only to claim that you're doing so for their own sake!

Is Normativity Just Semantics?

I'm over a year late responding to this one, but Computational Truth had an interesting post about whether disagreements over well-being are substantive. Suppose that we all agree on the empirical facts: Alan experiences more pleasure, but Betty has fulfilled more of her heartfelt desires. What are hedonists and desire theorists disagreeing about, then, when they dispute which of the two is "better off"?

The problem: According to analytical reductionism (or "descriptivism"), normative terms like 'wellbeing' simply mean whatever wellbeing reduces to -- happiness, desire fulfilment, or whatever the case may be. This would seem to suggest that the dispute is merely terminological. Either one of the theorists is confused about what their words mean, or else they're speaking subtly different idiolects. In that case, we can translate the apparent dispute:

H. "Alan is better off!"
D. "No, Betty is better off!"

into...

H. "Alan is happier!"
D. "No, Betty has fulfilled more of her desires!"

so that they're not really in disagreement at all. (At most, they disagree about what the term 'better off' means. But words aren't worth arguing over. It's the proposition, or what is said with the words, that really matters. We mean to argue about the world, not just the language used to describe it.)

This seems like a pretty good reason to reject analytical reductionism. Normative disputes, e.g. between theories of wellbeing, are surely more substantive than is allowed for by this account.

A proposed solution: recall my recent claim that philosophical truth just is the idealized limit of a priori inquiry. If we grant this rational normativity as primitive, I've previously suggested that we can use this to define our other normative terms. So, for example, 'wellbeing' means something like "what it is ideally rational to value for a person's own sake".

This yields the happy result that disagreements about wellbeing can be substantive after all. Hedonists and desire theorists disagree about what to value (or what it would be ideally rational to value for a person's own sake). That sounds right to me, at least.

America Beckons

I've received an offer from Chapel Hill, which by all accounts sounds like a wonderful place to go to grad school. I'm still waiting to hear from the other places to which I applied. Exciting times...

Update: NYU and Princeton make it 3/3 so far...

Carnival of Citizens reminder

As Jason says:

This is just a friendly reminder that on February 28, Positive Liberty will host the Carnival of Citizens, a blog carnival dedicated to elevating public discourse on political thought and current events. The theme of this edition will be “Church and State,” and submissions should bear some relationship to questions of religion, the public sphere, and the interface between them.

You can submit a post via the BlogCarnival form.

The Multicultural Mystique

Let me recommend H.E. Baber's The Multicultural Mystique: the liberal case against diversity. The book's core argument is as follows:

Multiculturalism restricts individual freedom. Because it renders characteristics that are ascribed and immutable salient and imposes scripts on individuals in virtue of them, it restricts the freedom of individuals to be “treated as individuals.”

No one is completely free to invent himself. There are countless characteristics we have that are ascribed and immutable, including sex, race and ancestry, height, handedness and sexual orientation. The aim of liberals, for whom individual freedom is of paramount importance, is to minimize the extent to which such unchosen characteristics affect the way in which people’s lives go — the way in which they are perceived and treated, the way in which they are supposed to behave, and the range of options open to them. Multiculturalism, because it promotes the salience of race and ancestry, and scripts ethnic identity, is therefore inconsistent with liberalism.

I must admit that I'm antecedently disposed to agree. But I still found it an eye-opening read, especially Baber's analysis of white privilege as non-salience:

Going native, at least temporarily, has always been an option for privileged white Americans, from anthropologists studying exotic cultures as participant-observers to journalists embedded with native families to report on their doings, and no one ever suggests that those who manage to go native permanently are inauthentic or self-hating. White privilege is the privilege of self-invention. Immigrants and members of ethnic minorities do not have that luxury. Even when they are not locked out of the mainstream by discrimination and economic disadvantage, multiculturalist notions of authenticity, role obligation and group loyalty dog them.

Baber acknowledges the tension between individual liberty and cultural preservation, but comes down firmly in favour of the former. If few informed young adults would wish to remain Amish, too bad for the culture; it's no excuse to stunt their education and deprive them of the choice. (N.B. Baber assumes that only individual preference satisfaction has real value. It would be interesting to consider whether "communitarian" alternatives are defensible. But I guess that would go beyond the book's scope as expounding "the liberal case against diversity.")

It's worth noting here that Baber's case rests on a particular conception of liberalism, according to which "individual freedom in the interests of desire-satisfaction is the supreme value." Alternative forms of liberalism might be grounded on the ideal of political neutrality between comprehensive moral doctrines (making the Amish dilemma rather more difficult!), though Baber appears to dismiss this alongside "namby-pamby relativis[m]". A bit more detail here would have been nice -- but again, a single book can't cover everything.

What this book does cover, it does extremely well. Throughout, Baber reminds us that "there is no guarantee of a pre-established harmony between individuals’ interests and aspirations and cultural expectations." It seems obvious, once she puts it like that, but the point is too often neglected in multiculturalist discourse. Whenever people make claims about "what the _____ community want", it's worth bearing in mind that there will inevitably be internal dissent. All we've really been told is what the cultural elite want. And if that involves oppressing sub-cultures and unheard individuals, we should surely think twice before "respecting" those preferences.

A final point worth highlighting: drawing on Richard Thompson Ford, Baber identifies a contradiction at the core of common appeals to 'group rights', i.e. when a person claims special exemption from the usual rules in virtue of her group identity (and not just individual liberty more generally):

On the one hand their supporters made out that their behavior was harmless: a matter of self-expression that had no significant consequences for anyone else. On the other hand supporters claimed that it was specially protected on cultural or religious grounds--in which case it was not a mere matter of self-expression that had no significant consequences for anyone else but had import for other [group members].

By granting a special exemption for Muslim schoolgirls to wear headscarves, we affirm that this is part of what it is to be Muslim. It is a slap in the face to other Muslim women who contest those norms, and who would not accept this as an accurate characterization of their (desired) culture. As Baber quotes Ford, to grant such group rights "would be an intervention in the long-standing debate among [group members] about empowerment strategies and norms of identity and identification... A right to group difference may be experienced as meddlesome at best and oppressive at worst even by some members of the group that the rights regime ostensibly benefits."

But enough for one blog post -- do read the whole thing. (And drop a comment with your thoughts!)

Freeing Constraints

Sometimes, paradoxical though it may sound, constraints can make us more free. The classic example features Odysseus binding himself to the ship's mast so that he might safely listen to the Siren's song. Mundane examples along the same lines might involve self-imposed threats and incentives to encourage our future selves to overcome weak-willed procrastination. In such cases, we sacrifice our freedom at a moment in order to achieve greater freedom overall.

But not all instances of "freeing constraints" involve cross-temporal tradeoffs. Another important class of freedoms may be obtained by relieving an unwanted option from others' expectations. I've previously explained the potentially liberating effects of making cycle helmets compulsory in a society where there had been social pressure against them, for example. A more serious example would be headscarf bans in French schools, which free Muslim girls from culturally imposed (and not always welcome) dress norms.

G.A. Cohen has made similar observations about how constraints can improve the options open to the desperate in bargaining situations. Consider a desert island situation: if my life depends upon your co-operation, then you are in a position to demand anything at all from me in exchange. But if there are constraints on what I am free to give, then these are also constraints on what you can demand from me.

If I can't repay my debts, might I be forced to sell not just my house, but also my kidney? Or might someone be disqualified from unemployment benefits because they haven't tried the "option" of prostituting themselves? (Of course, a total ban may not be the only - or the best - way to protect against these threats. But they serve to illustrate the general point.)

Evaluating Lives

From this article (previously discussed here):

Simone Aspis of the British Council of Disabled People said: "Euthanasia for disabled newborns tells society that being born disabled is a bad thing. If we introduced euthanasia for certain conditions, it would tell adults with those conditions that they are worth less than other members of society."

This seems to confuse two kinds of assessments: utility and moral worth. It could be true that disabled people typically have less fortunate lives, without thereby implying that they are worth any less as people. It certainly doesn't imply treating disabled adults with less respect, according their interests less weight, or anything of that sort.

Splitting Chores - but which ones?

Suppose that two people living together have agreed to a fair way of distributing the necessary chores. There is a prior question: how are they to decide which chores need doing in the first place? Suppose they diverge greatly in their tolerance of general messiness: one must have everything spick and span, whereas the other sees no point to tidying at all. Does fairness require the happy slob to pitch in, or the neat freak to take care of their own fussy preferences? Or is there no determinate answer to be given here?

One might argue that domestic harmony requires cohabitors to look out for each others' needs. Any chore deemed "necessary" by either person is ipso facto necessary for their household, so the slob should get scrubbing.

Alternatively, the two individuals are meant to co-operate for their mutual benefit. So it's unfair to force both to work towards an end that only one of them cares about. The only chores necessary for the duo, together, are those that advance their common goals. If one has extra preferences of their own, they should take care of those themselves.

Or does it depend on the particular details? Perhaps there are objective facts about what chores need doing for a good household, regardless of the particular opinions of its inhabitants. In some cases the less fussy one is failing to meet these minimal requirements, whereas in other cases the more fussy one may be demanding more than is reasonable. (This standard could be culturally relative, determined by "society" somehow, whilst still being 'objective' at the individual level.) I can't see much reason to favour this view, but it does seem assumed in common discourse, where 'slobs' and 'neat freaks' are considered defective for deviating from the norm.

Finally, the moral point of view may entirely abstain from recommending either option over the other. It's simply up to those involved to sort it out to their satisfaction. There are no external standards to guide them at all.

What do you reckon?

Miscellany

250k - Philosophy, et cetera passed 1/4 million visits earlier this week!

Carnival of Citizens - The next edition looks likely to remain in the standard format (though incorporating the sort of 'response space' Kenny suggested) -- official details will be posted to the newsletter once available.

I'm told there's a fair bit of support for converting it into a "symposium" style after that, though the precise details haven't been worked out yet. Feel free to chip in, back in the public brainstorming thread.

Flatland - I owe Brandon one for bringing to my attention this classic story. It introduces some fascinating perspectives, including the point in a dimensionless void, who cannot even conceive of anything external to itself. And of course the main character, a square in the plane of "Flatland", who is initially shocked to learn of a third dimension from which a visitor can see his "insides"! Quite delightful. I can't wait to see the how the movie turns out...

Better Together - this report on promoting civic engagement was put together by a group including political philosopher Amy Gutmann and Senator Barack Obama. Worth a look. Here's a nice section highlighting the need for meta-politics:

Recommendation 4: Broaden the Role of Citizens in Restructuring Government. Most political debate revolves around questions of government spending and regulation. Should the government provide more money for K-12 education? Subsidize prescription drugs for senior citizens? Require that all gun owners be licensed? We spend far less time mulling an equally important set of questions: How government should be constituted (i.e., highly centralized, or highly decentralized), what the responsibilities of different levels of government should be, and what processes should govern political decision-making. Because these questions receive inadequate attention, we endorse formal and regular re-evaluations of local, state, and national government structures along the lines of the charter-review commissions recently empowered to rethink the governing structures of the City and County of Los Angeles.

As happened in Los Angeles, such reviews should tackle a fundamental question: Which level of government should fulfill which functions? While some programs can be effectively provided only by the national government, as proponents of community involvement, we are concerned about the concentration of power in larger and larger entities. When policy decisions and delivery take place on a plane far above local capacities, then ordinary people tune out, figuring they can’t make a difference. From the vantage point of increasing social capital, smaller is better than larger, and local is better than national. To the extent possible given the imperatives of equal treatment and program effectiveness, governmental decision-making authority should be pushed downward so that citizens believe they can have an influence over the policies that affect their lives.