Are We climbing the same mountain?

ZEMO https://doi.org/10.1007/s42048-020-00076-2 SUBMITTED PAPER Are We climbing the same mountain? Moral theories, moral concepts, moral questions Roger Crisp © The Author(s) 2020 Abstract The paper begins by noting the widespread disagreement that has existed in philosophy from its very inception until now. It is claimed that Henry Sidgwick was right to see the main debate in ethics as between egoists, consequentialists, and deontologists. This raises the question whether the best approach might be to seek a position based on the different theories rather than one alone. Some clarification is then offered of the main questions asked in ethics, and it is claimed that the primary ethical question is that of Socrates: how should one live? Substantive agreement between our three normative theories is possible, but unlikely; and explanatory agreement is conceptually impossible. More restricted agreement may be possible, though doubts can be raised about Derek Parfit’s ‘triple theory’. One might attempt to combine different elements of the theories, syncretically, but again agreement is unlikely. The paper ends by considering the epistemic implications of disagreement, and with a recommendation of a more eirenic methodology for moral philosophy. Keywords Theories, ethical · Disagreement, moral · Parfit, Derek · Sidgwick, Henry 1 Competition or Co-operation? There is something that might loosely be called a paradox at the heart of philosophy. Philosophy is the love – the philia – of wisdom – sophia. Having wisdom is having knowledge, and knowledge, if of propositions, must be true. And the truth is something on which rational beings might be expected to converge. But since its inR. Crisp () St Anne’s College and Oxford Uehiro Centre for Practical Ethics, University of Oxford, 56 Woodstock Rd, Oxford, OX2 6HS, UK E-Mail: R. Crisp ception, philosophy has been characterized by, one might even say (again in a loose sense) defined by, disagreement. Socrates’ method of elenchus proceeds largely by attempts at refutation of, for example, the views that what we should aim for in life are money and power (Thrasymachus and Meno), or pleasure (Callicles). In the Meno (80a-d), Socrates defends himself against the charge that he is like a stingray, which numbs those with whom it comes into contact, by arguing that it is better to be in a state of being undecided (aporia) than in a state of false belief, since this gives one greater chance of apprehending the truth, and – if others join you – of agreement. Sadly, of course, Socrates’ dream has become ever more distant, as more and more theories and views have developed in philosophy. But I shall end my paper with the suggestion that there is nevertheless something in the idea that aporia may have advantages over false belief, or even true belief if that belief is itself unjustified. The situation in moral philosophy is as bleak as it has ever been. I shall return in my conclusion to Henry Sidgwick’s Methods of Ethics, first published in 1874 and revised several times until reaching the canonical and posthumous edition of 1907. But here I want to suggest that the essence of Sidgwick’s view of the moral – or, to speak more broadly, the ethical1 -- landscape is broadly correct. Sidgwick saw ethics as in large part a debate between egoists (who believe that one should maximize one’s own good), consequentialists (who believe that one should produce the best outcome for all), and deontologists (who believe that there is more to ethics than producing the best outcome and that, for example, one should keep a promise for reasons of justice rather than merely because of the good consequences of doing so). The terms here are not all used by Sidgwick, and he restricted his own discussion to specific forms of the views in question (so, for example, both the egoism and the consequentialism he discusses are hedonistic). Further, there are fewer philosophical egoists around now than there were in Sidgwick’s day, and even then they were on the wane. But in the main things have remained the same as they always were: the war in ethics is between these three parties, though of course there are many bloody internecine conflicts within each party, and there are other parties – moral sceptics, for example, who see the war itself as based on a deep misunderstanding. This raises a central and vitally important question. Should we, rather than joining one side or the other in these battles, step back and try to learn something from the various participants, constructing an ecumenical view which may have stronger claim to justification and constitute a better chance of convergence – that is, the end of philosophy as we now know it, and the beginning of the philosophical contemplation of the truth practised by the lucky philosophers who have emerged from the cave described by Socrates (Republic 514a-520e)? 1 For the distinction between the broadly ethical and the narrowly moral, see Williams 1985: 7-8. Are We climbing the same mountain? 2 Questions and Concepts I have just said that normative or first-order ethics is largely a war between three different parties. But, unfortunately perhaps, things are a good deal more complicated than that. You may have come across the stereotype of the Oxford don who is always telling their students: ‘Define your question!’. That is usually taken to mean that the students have to offer their own definitions of the terms in the question given them by their tutor. This seems to me good advice, up to a point, but sometimes tutors just give their students some suggested readings, and they have to come up with their own question. That meta-question – what should be my question? – is, I think remarkably, rarely asked by philosophers, and it has to be said that they are not always good at defining their terms in the usual way either. Here again we can learn from Socrates, who insisted on agreement on the issue under discussion, and that no progress should be made in any discussion until all sides were in agreement (of course, he rarely if ever adhered to this principle himself, but it is still a good principle). So what question, or questions, are people asking in philosophical ethics, and which question, or questions, should they be asking? There are many, and here are some of them. (i) What makes actions right? This is perhaps the most obvious question we might take typical moral theories to be addressing. Note the important distinction between this, explanatory, question, and the substantive question: ‘Which actions are right?’. Two people might agree on some list of right actions – benefiting others, respecting justice, telling the truth, and so on – but disagree on what makes these actions the right ones. One might be a divine command theorist, who believes that the right-making property of these actions is their being commanded by God, while the other might be an atheist, Rossian pluralist (see Ross 1930), who believe (...truncated)