John G. Messerly's Blog, page 122

Is Ethics Relative? (Part 4–Conclusion)

(continued from yesterday’s post.)

4. EMOTIVISM: AN EXTREME FORM OF PERSONAL RELATIVISM  

4A    Emotivism Defined  

The English philosopher A.J. Ayer (1910 – 1989) and the American philosopher Charles Stevenson (1908 – 1979) developed a different version of subjectivism. Emotivism is a theory that claims that moral language or judgments: 1) are neither true or false; 2) express our emotions; and 3) try to influence others to agree with us. To better understand emotivism, consider the following statements:

The Earth is larger than Jupiter.

The St. Louis Cardinals won the World Series in 1964.

Both are declarative statements that are either true or false, and have cognitive content. Now consider the following:

Go Manchester United!

Damn!

Both are exclamatory statements that are neither true nor false, and have no cognitive content. They expresses emotions and try to influence others to share the emotion.

Emotivists believe that moral language expresses emotions and tries to influence others. If I say homosexuality is evil, I’m just expressing my feeling that homosexuality is disgusting! I am expressing my emotions and, at the same time, trying to influence you to dislike homosexuality. The same analysis applies to any moral judgment. If I say that capital punishment is wrong, I’m just expressing my dislike for it, and trying to get you to agree with me. I might as well have said capital punishment, while shaking my head and rolling my eyes.  And if I say that Stalin or Cheney were bad men—which they were—I’m merely trying to get you to agree with what I’m really saying.

Now the difference between emotivism and personal relativism (subjectivism) is subtle. When personal relativists say Gandhi was a good man they report their view of Gandhi. And this report is true or false depending on whether they are telling the truth. But the emotivist claims there is no truth or falsity to moral judgments whatsoever! If I say I hate abortion—assuming I’m being sincere—then this expressed emotion is neither true nor false, it just is. In other words, the emotivist says that different moral judgments are just like differences in taste. I like carrots; you don’t. I like homosexuality; you don’t. But emotivists don’t consider moral judgments as reporting a speaker’s beliefs; they just express emotions. In the same way that cows moo, humans emote. Therefore, according to the emotivists, moral language has no factual content at all and thus cannot be true or false in any way. Now why would one think that moral language is just a disguised emotional expression?

Ayer thought that moral language was meaningless because it couldn’t be verified. If I say that there’s a dollar on my desk, you know what I mean and you can verify or falsify my statement—you just go look. But if I say that lying is bad, how you could verify this? Where would you go to see that lying was bad? Ayer argued that statements that couldn’t be verified were meaningless. There is no meaning to propositions like abortion is immoral because there is no way to show these statements are true or false.

While Stevenson granted that moral language didn’t have factual or cognitive content, he argued that it had emotive meaning. Moral propositions aren’t true or false, but they aren’t meaningless either—moral language allows us to express emotions. Thus he could easily account for our differences regarding ethics—we have different emotions. And when we disagree, Stevenson said we have a disagreement in attitude. But reasons or arguments will not change other people’s attitudes.

4B Critique of Emotivism  

Do moral judgments express emotions, exclusively? If I say that Mother Theresa was a good woman, I’m expressing my emotions, trying to influence you, and I’m making a moral judgment. On the other hand, aren’t I doing more? Don’t I believe that Mother Theresa was good in comparison with some standard of goodness? After all, I’m not just saying Mother Theresa, and then smiling. So when I say Mother Theresa was good I express my fond feelings for her, and I do want you to feel the same, but that doesn’t mean that’s all I’m doing. I almost certainly believe that Mother Theresa was good in a way that Dick Cheney wasn’t. So while a moral judgment isn’t exactly the same as a factual judgment, it isn’t exactly the same as exclamatory judgments either. Why?

Consider how I would go about persuading you that Mother Theresa was good, while Dick Cheney was not. I might appeal to her selflessness working with the poor of Calcutta, her devotion to her friends, her daily prayer and meditation, or the positive effect she had on strangers. And by doing this I’m giving you reasons for thinking she was a good person. Now you might say that I just happen to like selfless nuns who win Nobel Peace Prizes and that she was not better than Cheney. In response, I point out that Cheney masterminded the extermination and torture of thousands, had a violent temper, was very unpleasant company, was a Nixon operative, has no remorse for anything he ever did, and almost certainly never meditated.  Again my opponents might not be persuaded. Maybe killing  and torturing thousands is a good thing, or being nice is an awful thing.

But notice that you’re asking me for reasons, and I am giving you plenty of reasons why Mother Theresa, or almost anyone else for that matter, was a better person than Dick Cheney—reasons that most rational persons would accept. And whenever I give reasons, I’m doing more than just expressing emotions; I’m assuming that there is more to moral claims than emotions. If not, why try to convince someone? True, I could try to convince someone by merely continuing to express my emotions. But my emoting wouldn’t convince a rational person. So it seems that objective reason must play some role in ethics.

Certainly it’s true that some people might not be convinced by good reasons, but that does not mean that I didn’t give them good reasons or that reasons are unimportant. It might just be that they won’t accept the good reasons I have given them. Thus, if I point out that your disliking me is irrelevant to what I deserve on a test, then I have given you a good reason why I shouldn’t have failed. And we can probably think of many examples when we give others good reasons to do or believe something and they just won’t listen. This appealing to reasons to persuade suggests that we use moral language to do more than merely express emotions.

Therefore, emotivism presupposes that moral disagreements are incapable of being resolved by rational discourse. There is no way to resolve our attitudinal disagreements unless we are persuasive enough (or violent enough). But we have already seen that there’s another way to persuade—using reason to support our position. We can provide good reasons why x is right or x is wrong. If we appeal to reason, we have discovered a way to resolve our disputes that other than by shouting or beating others into submission. And if reason plays a role in ethics, then there is truth or falsity about ethical judgments.

4C REPLY: ETHICS IS NOT COMPLETELY RELATIVE 

Some things aren’t relative—throw this book out the classroom window and it will fall. Some elements of morality may be relative, but surely not all of them—you shouldn’t kill your good friend because he owes you a dollar. Tolerance is a generally a good thing, but there is no special connection between it and relativism. We do express ourselves and try to influence others when we make moral judgments, but that’s only a small part of what we do. Killing an innocent person could possibly be justified, but are you ever justified in torturing someone for your own pleasure when there is no good reason to do so? As long as you answer no to this question, you aren’t a relativist. But even if ethics is objective, why should I abide by its dictates?  Why shouldn’t I just seek pleasure? Why shouldn’t I just do whatever I want?  We will discuss these questions in further posts.

For Further Reading

Harman, Gilbert & Thomson, Judith Jarvis. Morality Relativism And Moral Objectivity (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1996).

Ladd, John. Ethical Relativism (Belmont, CA.: Wadsworth Publishing Co., 1973).

Moser, Paul K. & Carson, Thomas L. eds. Moral Relativism: A Reader (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001).

Is Ethics Relative? (Part 3)

(continued from yesterday’s post.)

3. PERSONAL ETHICAL RELATIVISM

3A    What is Personal Ethical Relativism?  

If morality is not relative to culture, might it be relative to a person’s beliefs, attitudes, emotions, opinions, desires, wants, etc.? Personal relativism is a theory that holds that moral judgments are relative to, conditioned by, or dependent upon, individuals. This theory has ancient roots, but it’s also popular today.2 These remarks capture the basic idea:

You have your opinion, and I have mine.
Truth is relative to my beliefs.
Truth is subjective, truth depends on me.
My belief is true for me, while your is true for you.
You do your thing, and I’ll do mine.

Analogous to the cultural relativist, the personal relativist claims that there is no objective moral truth. Relativists say that while you may hate homosexuality whereas they don’t, there is no objective truth about whether homosexuality is right or wrong. Instead moral statements merely report opinions, feelings, and attitudes; they just tell  what people prefer. Thus, to say that x is right/good/moral, just means you like, favor, or approve of x. And to say that x is wrong/bad/immoral, simply means that you dislike, disfavor, or disapprove of x. In other words, moral truth is relative, it is subjective. (Personal moral relativism is also called ethical subjectivism.)

But notice that, according to personal relativism, there is a way that a moral judgment can be true or false. If we say homosexuality is moral and we’re telling the truth, then it’s true that we think homosexuality is moral. But if we’re lying, then it’s false that we think homosexuality is moral. Of course moral judgments aren’t objectively true or false according to personal relativism, since there is no standard independent of a person’s feelings, but they are subjectively true or false, if we report our beliefs truthfully.

3B    Critique of Personal Relativism  

Personal relativism is open to the same objections as was epistemological and cultural relativism, as the following questions suggest. What does it mean to say something is true for me? Is the claim that truth is relative to me, relatively or absolutely true? If the former, relativism is inconsistent, if the latter, it’s trivial. Is there as much individual disagreement as it appears, or is most moral disagreements on the surface only? Don’t most people share common moral beliefs? And don’t the consequences of taking this theory seriously conflict with our moral intuition? Aren’t some actions just plain wrong?

Given our previous critique, we should reject personal relativism at first glance. Why then is the theory so appealing?  Maybe personal relativism attracts because it reminds us that not everything we believe is true. Perhaps it helps us be open to new ideas. Or possibly we tend to accept it because others do. Whatever the reason we find relativism compelling, let’s consider it in more detail.

Consider the following. If I enjoy torturing small children in the most painful way possible, do you think that’s ok? Do you believe that whether this is right or wrong depends on me? Or do you think it’s just plain wrong? Remember, if personal relativism is true then there is nothing wrong with torturing small children. But you don’t believe that. And you don’t believe that Gandhi and Hitler were moral equivalents because you think that good and bad are in some sense objective. That’s why you think there is something wrong with torturing children, and any moral theory that suggests otherwise must be flawed.

This critique of relativism relies on our intuition. To believe that torturing children is morally acceptable is counter-intuitive. Of course it is true that our intuition is not always a good guide. For example, it seems intuitive that the earth is flat. But if a moral theory leads to consequences that contradict a strongly held moral intuition, then we are probably justified in questioning that moral theory. If a moral theory advocates torture, and nearly everyone thinks torture is immoral, we should probably reject such a theory unless there is other compelling reasons not to. So the claim that a theory is strongly counter-intuitive doesn’t prove it’s wrong, but it counts as a reason to reject that theory.

Consider another intuitive argument against moral relativism. Suppose I gave you an F on your ethics test, even though I admit that your answers were perfect. Puzzled, you ask why you received an F, and I tell you that I don’t like you. Furthermore, I tell you that your friend received an A because I really like her. What would you think about this? Wouldn’t you feel that this was unfair? If so, you’re assuming there is some objective standard of fairness. However, if you’re a relativist, consistency demands that you accept that your grade is relative to whether I like you or not. But you think your grade on the test shouldn’t be relative to me because that’s not fair. So you do think that there is an objective standard of fairness after all.

There is something else peculiar about personal relativism. It is easy to say that you are a relativist, but it is hard to actually be a relativist. If the beliefs of both child-torturers and child-lovers conflict, the relativist says that they’re both correct. And while you can say this, it’s hard to believe it. In fact, when confronted with moral disagreements, we make judgments and debate what we should believe and do. In practice, we act as if what we do matters, as if some courses of action and some beliefs are morally preferable to others. In practice, it is virtually impossible to be a relativist. We do think there it is wrong for a samurai swordsmen to try out his new sword on an innocent passer-by.

3C    Questioning the Connection Between Tolerance and Relativism  

Tolerance is generally a good thing. I don’t want my neighbors to exterminate me because I philosophize too much; I’m sure they don’t want me to attack them because they watch too much TV. Tolerance is good, serving to remind us that we may be mistaken about our beliefs. But what is the relationship between moral relativism and tolerance? Are the two connected? Does the theory of moral relativism lead to tolerance?

In the first place there is a contradiction between extolling tolerance and moral relativism. If you’re a relativist, then you can’t consistently defend tolerance as a universal value. If you do, then you’re not a relativist; you’re an absolutist. You might claim that tolerance is the only universal moral principle, and that all others are relative. But this just restates your moral universalism in a different form. So relativism and tolerance are logically incompatible.

Now suppose I am a moral relativist. As a relativist, I may be tolerant of your views, but I may also decide that I can do anything I want to you—say, torture and kill you because there is nothing wrong with that. After all, it’s just relative. As a relativist, I might be tolerant of you, but, on the other hand, I might not. My view that the truth depends on me doesn’t seem to be related to how I treat you. There doesn’t seem to be a necessary connection between relativism and tolerance.

Now suppose I am a moral absolutist. As an absolutist, I may be intolerant of your views, but I may also decide that I shouldn’t torture and kill you because that’s just wrong. Again, my view of the truth isn’t related to how I treat you; so it’s hard to see a necessary connection between moral objectivism and intolerance. Thus, moral relativism may lead me to be tolerance of you, or it may not. Similarly, moral absolutism may lead me to force something on you, or it may not. Neither moral relativism nor moral objectivism recommends any specific action at all.

The point is that we just don’t know the relationship between a moral theory and practice, which is probably obvious from your experience. Ethics professors may espouse moral theories, but they may also be horrific people. The religious may espouse charity, but then steal the Sunday collection. Theories about how we should act, often fail to translate into actual action. So even if there should be a connection between moral relativism and tolerance, it doesn’t follow that the connection would manifest itself in action. But even if they were, we have no reason to believe this theoretical connection would bring about the practice of tolerance.

On closer examination tolerance doesn’t appear affected by the content of your belief; rather, tolerance is affected by how certain you are of what you believe. If you are certain you’re right, if you are dogmatic, then this may well lead to intolerance. But notice that it isn’t the content of your belief, but the confidence with which you hold your belief that’s connected to intolerance. If I’m certain that I know the truth about something, then I will likely be intolerant; if I’m less certain I know the truth about something, I will likely be tolerant. So maybe humility leads to tolerance. And humility most likely doesn’t spring from anything cognitive or intellectual like a moral theory.

We’ll conclude the discussion of relativism tomorrow.

________________________________________________________________________

2. Allan Bloom The Closing of the American Mind. (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1988) 25. “There is one thing a professor can be absolutely certain of: almost every student entering the university believes … that the truth is relative.”

Is Ethics Relative? (Part 2)

(continued from yesterday’s post.)

2. CULTURAL RELATIVE

2A    What is Cultural Moral Relativism?  

Cultural moral relativism is the theory that moral judgments or truths are relative to cultures. Consequently, what is right in one society may be wrong in another and vice versa. (For culture, you may substitute: nation; society; group, sub-culture, etc.) This is another theory with ancient roots. Herodotus, the father of history, describes the Greeks encounter with the Callatians who ate their dead relative. Naturally, the Greeks found this practice revolting. But the Callatians were equally repelled by the Greek practice of cremation causing Herodotus to conclude that ethics is culturally relative. World literature sounds a recurring theme: different cultures have different moral codes, an insight confirmed by the evidence of cultural differences. The Incas practiced human sacrifice, Eskimos shared their wives with strangers and killed newborns, Japanese samurai tried out his new sword on an innocent passer-by, Europeans enslaved masses of Africans, and female circumcision is performed today in parts of North Africa.

Cultural moral relativism contains two theses: 1) the diversity thesis – that moral beliefs, standards, practices, and values are diverse or vary from one culture to another; and 2) the dependency thesis – that what a person is obligated to do depends upon their culture since societies are the final arbiters of moral truth. In short, cultural relativism implies that no cultural values have any objective, universal validity. Moreover, it would be arrogant for one culture to make moral judgments about other cultures.

The thesis of diversity is descriptive; it describes how things are. Moral beliefs, rules, codes, and practices are, in fact, diverse and depend upon facets of culture—social, political, religious, and economic institutions, for example. On the other hand, the thesis of dependency is prescriptive; it describes how things ought to be. You should follow the moral codes of your culture because there is nothing else upon which morality is based. Now we might argue for cultural relativism as follows:

Argument 1 – (from the diversity thesis)

Different cultures have different moral codes;
Thus, there is no morality independent of culture.

The weakness of this argument is obvious; the conclusion doesn’t follow from the premise. The simple fact that cultures disagree about morality doesn’t show that morality is relative to culture. After all, cultures might disagree about whether abortion is moral or immoral, but their disagreement doesn’t mean there is no truth about the matter. It might be that one culture is mistaken regarding the moral view. To make this clearer, consider how cultures might disagree as to whether the earth or sun is at the center of our solar system. Their disagreement doesn’t mean there is no truth about the matter. Similarly, societies might disagree about whether they should put their young to death, but that disagreement proves nothing, other than societies disagree. So cultural disagreements are not enough, by themselves, to prove cultural relativism. Consider another argument:

Argument 2 – (from the dependency thesis)

Moral truths depend on the culture in which they take place;
Thus, there is no moral truth independent of culture.

The argument commits the fallacy that logicians call “begging the question.” This occurs when you assume the truth of what you are trying to prove. (For example, if you ask me why I think abortion is wrong and I say, because it’s bad, I’ve begged the question.) In argument 2, one is trying to show that right and wrong depend on culture. It begs the question to say that right and wrong depend on culture because they depend on culture.

Now might we make a stronger case for the relativist if we put the two theses together as follows?

Premise 1 – Right and wrong vary between cultures (diversity).

Premise 2 – Right and wrong depend upon a cultural context (dependency).

Conclusion – Thus, right and wrong are relative to culture. 

2B    Critique of Cultural Moral Relativism – Premise 1

This seems better; at least the conclusion follows from the premises. But are these premises true? Let’s consider the first premise (diversity). Nothing seems more obvious than the fact of cultural differences. Eskimos believe in infanticide; Americans do not. Most Americans believe executing criminals is morally justifiable; most French find the practice barbaric. Clearly there are different cultural mores. But maybe the differences between cultural values are not as great as they seem. Maybe these differences are more apparent than real? 

Consider that Eskimos live in harsh climates where food is in short supply and mothers nurse their babies for years. There simply isn’t enough food for all their children, nor enough backs upon which nomadic people can carry their children. So Eskimos want their children to live just like we do, and it is the harsh and unusual condition that force them to make difficult choices. Sometimes they kill a weaker child so that both the stronger and weaker children won’t die. We may disagree with the practice, but we can imagine doing the same in similar circumstances. Thus, the underlying principle—life is valuable—has been applied differently in different contexts.

Now there is more crime in America than in France. Most Americans seem to believe that criminals deserve to be punished for their crimes, that severe punishment brings peace to the victim’s family, and that capital punishment is a deterrent to crime. The French are more likely to renounce retribution or doubt that capital punishment brings victim’s families peace or deters crime. But notice again. Both cultures are steered by a principle—act justly—even though they apply the principle differently. So upon closer inspection there doesn’t seem to be as much disagreement as it first appeared. So the differences in cultural values might be more apparent than real.

And suppose we could show that there are moral principles that all cultures have in common? Wouldn’t that show that morality was not relative to culture? Many scientists have claimed that there are some moral principles common to all cultures.1 Ethical characteristics that all cultures appear to have in common include: regulations on sexual behavior; prohibitions against unjust killing (variously defined however); requirements of familial obligations and child care; emphasis on truth-telling; and reward for reciprocity and cooperation. Now if we take these two ideas together—that cultural moral differences aren’t as great as they appear and that all cultures share some moral values—then the diversity thesis is false. And if the first premise is false, then the conclusion of the cultural relativist’s argument doesn’t follow.

But notice that even if the first premise is false, that does not prove that moral objectivism is true. (This parallels the argument that cultural differences didn’t prove cultural relativism.) All cultures that share the same moral values could all be wrong! Thus, the empirical evidence concerning how much of a society’s morality is relative and how much is absolute is irrelevant to whether morality is relative or absolute. So, while we haven’t proven the truth of cultural absolutism, we have further undermined the cultural relativist. For the evidence about diversity of culture, evidence upon which the relativist relies, turns out to be, if not false, then at least irrelevant. We have undermined the cultural relativist’s first premise, and with it the conclusion of his/her argument.

2C    Critique of Cultural Moral Relativism – Premise 2 

While undermining the first premise sufficiently undermines cultural relativism, let’s turn to the second premise (dependency) to see if it fares any better. Now it does appear true that some moral “truths” depend on culture—for example, regulations on sexual behaviors or funeral practices. But it is not self-evident that all moral truth depends on culture. Moral truth may be independent of culture in the same way that other truths are independent of culture. The view that morality is objective has the advantage of not being self-contradictory like moral relativism. Ethics may be objectively grounded in reason, God’s commands, the most happiness for the most people, human nature, or something else.

But rather than trying to contradict all the relativist’s arguments for the second premise, consider the implications of taking cultural relativism seriously. If cultural relativism is true then all of the following (counter-intuitive) consequences are true. 1) We cannot make cross-cultural judgments. We could not consistently criticize a culture for killing all those over forty, exterminating ethnic groups, or banishing children to the Antarctic. But is there really nothing wrong with a culture doing whatever it wants? 2) We cannot make intra-cultural judgments. We cannot say, even within our culture, that we should send children to their death or to school, whether we should torture our criminals or reward them with medals. But is it really true that it doesn’t matter what we do within our culture? 3) The idea of moral progress is incoherent. To say that moral progress has occurred because a culture has alleviated slavery no longer makes sense. All you can say is that cultures change, not that one is better than another. The old culture practiced slavery; we do not, and that’s the end of it. Just as we can’t make comparisons across cultures, or within cultures at a given time, we can’t make comparisons within cultures across time. The appearance of moral progress is illusory.

Now consider how strongly cultural relativism opposes your moral intuition. We might think that cultures can do what they want regarding funeral practices, but what about human sacrifice? Aren’t there some things that are just plain wrong, in both other cultures and our own? And don’t you believe that society is better now because it has outlawed slavery? Cultural relativism answers no to all these questions. Can a theory so strongly contradictory of our moral intuition be correct?

D    Summary and Transition

In summary, we have seen that cultural relativism is as incoherent and unsubstantiated as cognitive/epistemological relativism. The formal, logical arguments for cultural relativism fail, and we have good reasons to doubt the truth of the premises of cultural relativism. Finally, cultural relativism contradicts our ordinary moral sense. Still, we admit that ethics is not as precise as logic—so we can’t prove that cultural relativism is mistaken. But we have shown that there are many reasons to doubt the theory and few if any reasons to accept it.

We’ll continue the discussion of relativism tomorrow.

Is Ethics Relative? (Part 1)

Ethics is that part of philosophy which deals with the good and bad, or right and wrong in human conduct. It asks questions like: What is morality? Is morality objective or subjective? What is the relationship between self-interest and morality? Why should I be moral?

We can divide philosophical ethics into four parts. Meta-ethics analyzes moral concepts, moral justification, and the meaning of moral language. Descriptive ethics describes the moral systems of various cultures. Normative ethics considers moral norms, standards or criteria that underlie moral theories. Applied ethics applies normative theories to moral problems in law, medicine, business, computer science, the environment and more. Over the next few weeks we will discuss normative ethics, or moral theories. We’ll begin with relativism. 

1.RELATIVISM

1A    What is Relativism?

Is LA close to New York City? Well it’s relative. LA is closer to NYC than it is to Mars, but it’s not closer to NYC than it is to San Diego. Is rock-n-roll good music? Well it depends. Most teenagers love it; many senior citizens do not. You may like rock, but your granddad likes Bach. In both cases, the answers depend upon what close or good is being measured against. Compared to Mars, LA and NYC are almost on top of each other; compared to San Diego, LA and NYC are a continent apart. Relative to my teenager’s musical tastes, rock is better than Bach, As for me; I’d choose Bach over rock anytime. Now, what about the logical law of non-contradiction, the distributive law in arithmetic, the parallel postulate in geometry, or Newton’s laws of gravity? Are these relative to, conditioned by, dependent upon, or measured against, something else? Or are they just true?

This kind of relativism is called epistemological relativism. The basic idea is that there are no universal truths about the world, just different ways of interpreting it. The theory dates back at least to the ancient Greek philosopher Protagoras, who said: “man is the measure of all things.” But this basic idea is also captured by more contemporary ideas:

What you believe is true (for you); what I believe is true (for me).
Truth is subjective.
Truth is in the eye of the beholder.
Different strokes for different folks.
You have your beliefs; I have mine, and that’s the end of it.

To be a relativist means that a belief, idea, proposition, claim, etc. is never true or false, good or bad, or right or wrong, absolutely. According to the relativist, there is no absolute or objective truth; truth is relative and subjective. For example, a relativist can’t consistently claim that 2 + 2 = 4 because the answer 4 is neither right nor wrong. It’s just depends. Your math teacher likes 4, but you like 6; so for you, the answer is 6. And you can’t consistently claim that gravity pulls objects downward, that airplanes fly because of aeronautical engineering principles, or that the earth is round, since none of these are absolute truths—at least according to the relativist.

Consider some implications of relativism. If you are an art expert who loves Rembrandt while your eight year-old sister thinks her doodling is the best art, as a relativist you cannot consistently maintain that your opinion about art is better than your sister’s. And if you eat healthy, exercise, maintain an ideal weight, and engage in stress reduction activities; you cannot consistently argue that your lifestyle is healthier than your roommate who eats poorly, lives a sedentary lifestyle, is overweight, and smokes to relieve stress. After all, its’ all relative. Or suppose your brother has a Ph.D. in physics from Oxford and has recently found compelling evidence for superstring theory. As a relativist you have no justification to say that your brother knows more about physical reality than your mother, who believes that she lives in a universe comprised of tiny, invisible gremlins whose gyrations are responsible for the expansion of the universe. After all, physicists have their view of reality and your Mom has hers, and that’s the end of it.

1B    Critique of Relativism

Do you really believe that the palm reader knows as much about the physical universe or the future as a physicist? (If you do, it’s costing you money!) Or that farmers know as much about medicine as physicians? Or that auto mechanics know as much about the brain as neurophysiologists? Or that the principles of aeronautical engineering can fly planes, but holding hands and chanting “up, up, and away” works just as well? If you’re a relativist you have to believe all these things, because nothing is true or false. But is everything just relative? You might say this, but do you really believe it?  Would you rather drive over a bridge built by the army corps of engineers, or one made of duct tape built by psychics? Do you believe that the one bridge is as good as the other? Would you consult the next person you meet to determine if you need heart disease, or would you ask a cardiologist instead? And don’t you ask experts because you assume there really are truths about the universe?

In addition to the outrageous implications of relativism, there are other reasons why relativism is problematic. Consider the statement “I know you don’t think I’m a poached egg, but I think I’m one, so it is true for me. Now what does this mean? All it means is that you believe something such as: you’re a poached egg, or that the moon is made of cheese, or Elvis is alive and well in Mozambique. To say that something is true—for you—doesn’t add truth to a statement; it merely reports that you believe something. But here’s the rub. Believing something doesn’t make it true! You aren’t a poached egg; the moon isn’t made of cheese, and Elvis isn’t alive and well in Mozambique. To respond with, those statements are true for me is just silly because you’re human, the moon is a rock, and Elvis is dead. And those things are true for me, and for you! The truth is independent of your beliefs.

Moreover relativism is logically incoherent. Consider the statement: all truth is relative. If this statement is objectively true, then relativism is false because there is at least one objective truth—namely, the truth that truth is relative. Thus, it is logically incoherent to say, all truth is relative is objectively true. But if the statement is only subjectively true, then, as we have already seen, this just means that you believe in relativism. Thus, by claiming that truth is relative you either contradict yourself or make a trivial claim with nothing to recommend your belief. (The other possibilities? Relativism is objectively false, in which case you obviously shouldn’t be a relativist; or relativism is subjectively false, in which case you don’t believe in it.)

In response a relativist could claim that the proposition that the truth is relative is the one objectively true proposition, while all other propositions are relative. So the only true proposition is: all truth is relative except the claim that truth is relative. Apart from wondering why such a puzzling proposition is true, we also wonder if this modified proposition objectively or subjectively true? If objectively true, then you have again contradicted yourself, inasmuch as you have to admit that this new proposition is absolute; if subjectively true, then again you have merely made the trivial claim that you believe in relativism. And of course if this new proposition is objectively or subjectively false, you haven’t helped your case at all.

In reply, you could construct a new proposition: all truth is relative except the claim that “all truth is relative except the claim that all truth is relative.” (Hang on if you feel you need a beer!) This is known as an infinite regress argument; you continue to construct a new claim to infinity. But whatever proposition you advance, we can always show that what you’re claiming is either a contradiction or just states your belief in relativism. Now you don’t want to be contradicting yourself because that’s just silly. And you don’t want to say that you believe in relativism, because you just believe in it without any reason. Thus relativism is either self-refuting or trivial. 

1C    Relativism, the Unknown, and Belief

Relativism also seduces because you might confuse your inability to know the truth with their being no truth. I don’t know if intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe, but intelligent life either does or doesn’t exist elsewhere—my inability to determine the truth is irrelevant to the actual truth about the matter. You may not know whether God exists or not, or if the author of this text is married with children, but God either exists or does not, and I either do or don’t have a wife and children. The fact that you don’t know what 2 + 2 equals, doesn’t mean there is no truth about arithmetic; it means your bad at arithmetic. Therefore, your inability to distinguish between truth and falsity is not evidence for the truth of relativism.

This leads to a related idea. Don’t confuse the fervency of your belief with a belief being true. You may be convinced the universe is teeming with intelligent life, that God exists, or that the author of this text has six wives, but this doesn’t mean these beliefs are true. Remember that you often believe things that are mistaken. You may believe that continental drift is impossible, that biological evolution didn’t happen, or that relativity theory is bogus. But your belief has nothing to with the truth or falsity of these ideas. Therefore, the strength of your belief in something—say that all truth is relative—is not evidence for the truth of relativism.

1D    Summary and Transition

Ok, let’s see where we’ve been so far. The claim that all truth is relative is either incoherent or trivial. Moreover, relativism is neither supported by our inability to know what’s true, nor by the fervency of our belief in relativism. But does this mean that nothing is relative? No. The answers to all the following questions are relative. Is LA close to NYC? Does chocolate taste better than vanilla? Who’s the world’s greatest athlete? Is Messerly a great philosopher? It’s not the claim that some things are relative that has been positively refuted; rather, it is the claim that all things are relative that is incoherent or illogical. And if all things aren’t relative and subjective, then some things must be absolute and objective.

Now you might agree that this assault on relativism has been successful, but still claim that while some truths are objective—logical, mathematical, and natural scientific ones for example—other so-called truths are relative—ethical truths for instance. Such considerations lead us to moral relativism, the theory that there are no absolute, objective, and universally binding moral truths. According to the moral relativist, there exist conflicting moral claims that are both true. (X is right, and x is wrong.) In short, the ethical relativist denies that there is any objective truth about right and wrong. Ethical judgments are not true or false because there is no objective moral truth—x is right—for a moral judgment to correspond with. In brief, morality is relative, subjective, and non-universally binding, and disagreements about ethics are like disagreements about what flavor of ice cream is best.

And what specifically might morality be relative to? Usually morality is thought to be relative to a group or individual’s: beliefs; attitudes, emotions, opinions, wants, desires, interests, preferences, conventions, inclinations, feelings, etc. Thus, we distinguish between two kinds of moral relativism: cultural moral relativism and personal moral relativism.

We’ll continue the discussion of relativism tomorrow.

Overpopulation and Technological Immortality

Many worry that radical life extension or the elimination of death will lead to overpopulation and ecological destruction. In other words, while it may be best for individuals to live forever, it might be collectively disastrous. Readers may recognize this situation as an instance of the “tragedy of the commons.” Acting in their apparent self-interest, individuals destroy a common good. It may be convenient for individuals to pollute the air, earth, and water, but eventually this is catastrophic for all. However, I don’t believe that overpopulation and its attendant problems should give researchers in this area pause. Here are some reasons why.

If we have conquered death, then we may already be transhumans or post-humans living after a technological singularity. Such beings may not want to propagate, since achieving a kind of immortality is a major motivation for having children. Such beings may be relatively independent of the physical environment too—their bodies may be impervious to environmental stressors, or they may not have bodies at all. In such cases concerns about overpopulation would be irrelevant. I am not saying that they will be irrelevant, but that the tragedy of 150,000 people dying every single day—100,000 of them from age-related causes—is a huge price to pay for speculative hypotheses about the future. We should not assume that our concerns as biological beings today will be relevant in the future.

Of course, I don’t know how the future will unfold. But preserving the minds that now exist may be a better survival strategy than educating new ones. In the future we will probably need educated and mature minds—their invaluable knowledge and wisdom. So I argue that we should try to eliminate death, dealing with overpopulation—assuming we even have to—when the time comes. My suggestions may be considered reckless, but remember there is no risk-free way to proceed into the future. Whatever we do, or don’t do, has risks. If we cease developing technology we will not be able to prevent the inevitable asteroid strike that will decimate our planet; if we continue to die young we may not develop the intelligence necessary to design better technology. Given these considerations, we shouldn’t let hypotheticals about the future deter our research into defeating death.

Note too that this objection to life-extending research could have been leveled at work on the germ theory of disease, or other life-extending research and technology in the past. Don’t cure diseases because that will lead to overpopulation! Don’t treat sick children because they might survive and have more children! I think most of us are glad we have a germ theory of disease, and treat sick children. Our responsibility is to help people live long, healthy lives, not worry that by doing so other negative consequence might ensue. We are glad that some of our ancestors decided that a twenty-five year life span was insufficient, instead of worrying that curing diseases and extending life might have negative consequences.

Most importantly, I believe it is immoral for us to reject anti-aging research and the technologies it will produce, thereby forcing future generations to die involuntarily. After anti-aging technologies are developed, the living should be free to choose to live longer, live forever, or even die young if they want to. But it would be immoral for us not to try to make death optional for them. If we made decisions for them, we would be imposing our values on them. At the moment we tolerate a high death rate to compensate for a high birth rate, but our descendants may not share this value.

Moreover, as I have argued previously, death is like a bomb strapped to our chest. The bomb is with us from birth, and can detonate at any time. If it is in our power to remove that bomb for future generations, then we should. We should not let hypothetical concerns about negative consequences deter our removing those explosives. I’d bet future generations will thank us for removing such bombs, and even if our descendants do decide that a hundred years of consciousness is enough, they will probably be thankful that we gave them the option to live longer. I’d guess that higher forms of being and consciousness will want to preserve their being. They would want us to disarm the bomb.

The lovers of death don’t want to disarm the bomb because its detonation transports you to a better address—from a slum to a mansion. Even better, in the mansion your mind and body are eternally bathed in a salve of peace, love, and joy. That is the justification for opposing the bomb’s removal. The problem is this story is fictional. And we know that most people agree because when humans conquer death, when they learn to remove the bomb—they will. Those in the future who have the option to live forever will be eternally grateful that they have the real thing, instead of the empty promises we now pay for each Sunday in church. Consciousness has come a long way from its beginnings in a primordial soup, but there is so much farther to go. Let’s put our childhood behind us, and make something of ourselves.

Review of Martin Rees': Our Final Hour

From Our Final Hour: A Scientist’s Warning by Martin Rees, Royal Society Professor at Cambridge and England’s Royal Astronomer.

“Twenty-first century science may alter human beings themselves—not just how they live.” (9)

Rees accepts the common wisdom that the next hundred years will see changes that dwarf those of the past thousand years, but he is skeptical about specific predictions. He gives numerous examples of forecasts that didn’t come true, of technologies that were not forecast, and of the forecasts that were never made—x-rays, nuclear energy, antibiotics, jet aircraft, computers, transistors, the internet, and more. Yet,

… we cannot set limits on what science can achieve, so we should leave our minds open, or at least ajar, to concepts that now seem on the wilder shores of speculative thought. Superhuman robots are widely predicted for mid-century. Even more astonishing advances could eventually stem from fundamentally new concepts in basic science that haven’t yet even been envisioned and which we as yet have no vocabulary to describe. (16)

Rees argues that computing power will not level off and “nanotechnology could extend Moore’s law for up to thirty years further; by that time, computers would match the processing power of a human brain.” (17) He quotes both Kurzweil and Moravec and takes their predictions seriously.

Rees accepts as reasonable speculative claims concerning the malleability of our physical and psychic selves. He also acknowledges that immortality may be possible. He discusses reverse-engineering a brain in order to download its contents into a machine, saying: “If present trends continue unimpeded, then … some people now living could attain immortality—in the sense of having a lifespan that is not constrained by their present bodies.” (18-19)

Rees also believes that superintelligent machines might destroy us. Once machines have surpassed human intelligence, they could themselves design and assemble a new generation of even more intelligent ones. This could then repeat itself, with technology running towards a cusp, or ‘singularity’.” Still, Rees admits this is all speculative.

I see Rees as forging a middle path. He recognizes that the potential of scientific knowledge to transform reality, but he cautions us that some predictions are fanciful. Many forecasts will be shown to be mistaken, and many things we don’t forecast will happen. Moreover there are social, religious, political, ethical, economic and other considerations that impede swift development of new technologies.

Rees also carefully considers extinction scenarios: “Throughout most of human history, the worst disasters have been inflicted by environmental forces—floods, earthquakes, volcanoes, and hurricanes—and by pestilence. But the greatest catastrophes of the 20th century were directly induced by human agency…” (25) He estimates that nearly two hundred million persons were killed by war, massacre, persecution, famine, etc. in the 20th century alone.

The primary extinction scenarios include: global nuclear war; nuclear mega-terror; bio-threats (the use of chemical and biological weapons); laboratory errors  (accidentally create a new virulent smallpox virus, for example); “grey goo” (nanobots out of control that consume all organic matter); particle physics experiments gone awry; and human-induced environmental or climate change. In addition, there are asteroid impacts; super-eruptions from Earth that block the sun; and more.

Martin Rees is one of the world’s most important living scientists. His worries about the extinction of the species should be carefully considered.

Cemeteries

Above is the only picture I can find on the entire internet of Zion Cemetery in St. Louis. Although the picture is of poor quality, I can identify the cemetery as the one next to the subdivision where I grew up. We often played football or baseball in the grassy areas next to the cemetery and, in the summer, we would get drinks of water from the spigots in the cemetery. I have vivid memories of specific baseball and football games we played there. I also rode my bike in that cemetery, and first started jogging on its roads.

I remember my mom telling me not to step on the graves out of respect for the dead. To this day I obey my mother’s directives. If I accidentally step on one, I feel as if I ran over an animal with my car—squeamish. But for some reason I feel peaceful in cemeteries. I enjoy them. I like to read the headstones, especially the ones with pictures, sayings, or brief descriptions of the dead. I still enjoy walking through the cemetery in the neighborhood I live in now.

None of this makes much sense, especially since I hate death and believe it should be optional. Still, I like cemeteries. Perhaps this is because I am a philosopher, and Socrates said that to philosophize was to practice death. Or perhaps it is the congruence of life and death, of being and nothingness, that I find in cemeteries that transfixes me. All this life, all these dreams, all this caring for parents and children, all this love and sex, all this anxiety and anticipation, all this concern and consciousness … gone.

I don’t know what all this means, but I do know the dead are dead. And now it seems as if the dead had never been. Death seemingly makes life seem pointless. Still I like to walk in cemeteries. I just don’t know why.

About Writing

I have written about my favorite book on writing, On Writing Well: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction, numerous times on this blog. While perusing some old files I found the original notes I took while reading the book. I thought my readers might benefit.

The myths of writing – it’s fun, easy, you never rewrite, quit if it isn’t going well, don’t write if you feel unhappy, circulate among the literary world, use symbolism, etc.

The truth of writing – writing is hard work, you always rewrite, have a schedule, write all the time, work alone, and say what you mean.

Simplicity – Cut out all extra words and paragraphs. If the reader is lost it’s because you aren’t writing clearly, the sentences are cluttered, shoddily constructed, don’t follow logically, words are misused, etc. Ask yourself, what are you trying to say?

Clutter – Examine every word and see if it does work. You will probably find that half of all words can be cut without losing meaning. Don’t use big words, jargon, clichés, and elongated phrases.

Style – Strip your writing to the essentials before putting any dressing on the structure. Without good structure the house won’t stand But be yourself, don’t wear a wig. Have confidence and relax. Say what you mean, don’t bob and weave like a politician.

The Audience – You are the audience. Yes, you must write clearly so the audience can follow, but when it comes to what you say or who you are, forget the audience.

Words – Avoid phrases and clichés; find the words you want. Use them with care.

Usage – It is hard to separate good usage from jargon. Use good words that already exist, unless you need a new one.

Unity – “You learn to write by writing.” You are trying to solve a problem when you write. Will you write as a participant or an observer; in the past tense or present tense, formal or casual, involved or detached, amused or judgmental? How much do I want to cover and what point am I trying to make? And don’t bite off more than you can chew; consider the point you want to make and make it.

The Lead and the Ending – The first sentences are the most important; they must capture readers and tell them why you are writing. And know when to end, don’t go on and on and on and on.

Bits and Pieces – Use active verbs and active voice. Use small words rather than long ones. Adverbs are generally redundant and weaken sentences. Adjectives are also unnecessary. (The adverb is usually contained in the verb, and the adjective in the noun.) Little qualifiers like very, quite, a bit, too, pretty much, rather, somewhat, a little, sort of, and similar small words should never be used.

Punctuation – The period? Use it sooner rather than later. Almost never use an exclamation point. The semi-colon should generally be used less than the period or dash. The dash is great. The colon should be used only before lists.

Miscellaneous – Let the reader know when you change moods with but, yet, however, now, etc. Contractions are fine. Generally prefer that to which. Be wary of sentences that talk about people but don’t mention them. (The common reaction is laughter.) Be wary and limit the use of helping verbs. (forms of to be). Don’t use two or three nouns instead of one noun or even better use a verb. (Communication facilitation skills development intervention.) Resist overstatement and exaggeration. (Messerly’s class is like ten atom bombs going off in my head.) Remember that writing isn’t a contest; write for yourself. The quickest fix for a bad sentence—elimination. Keep your paragraphs short because reading is visual, and organize ideas with paragraphs. The best way to handle the gender problem is by using plurals. AND AS ALWAYS, GOOD WRITING IS REWRITING—GOOD WRITERS CAN’T STOP FIDDLING WITH THEIR SENTENCES. Finally, it is usually best to write about what you care about.

Writing about science and technology – Liberal arts majors fear science; science majors fear writing. But “writing is thinking on paper. Anyone who can think clearly can write clearly.” You just need to write one sentence that follows logically from another. Start with one important fact and continue to explain one fact after another—never assume the reader knows anything. Write science like a person, not a scientist.

Humor – “Humor is the secret weapon of the nonfiction writer.” Write what’s true and humor will be intertwined.

The Sound of Your Voice – But don’t try to be too cute, condescending or use clichés. Find good writers in your field and imitate them. You will usually find that they use short, strong words, not long ones. For a great example of such writing read Abe Lincoln.

Enjoyment, Fear and Confidence – If you enjoy what you are writing about, there is a good chance the audience will too. Write with a sense of joy. Write about what you enjoy.

The Tyranny of the Final Product – Don’t worry about the result, worry about the process. A large part of the process is how you’re going to put it all together—what is the outline? Think of your writing as a quest to find out who you are and what you believe. And decide what you are trying to say.

A Writer’s Decisions – A logical progression of sentence and paragraph will keep the reader interested. Choose words carefully, especially the first sentences. And cut, cut, cut.

Write as Well as You Can – Bring humor, sincerity, and enthusiasm to your writing, and remember, quality is its own reward. You are a travel companion; brighten our trip. Choose verbs over nouns, active verbs over passive ones, short words over long ones, and concrete details rather than vague abstractions. Remember, someone is reading what you’re writing. Do you want to torture them?

We Are Lucky To Have Been Born

Long before Richard Dawkins became a prominent atheist, he was one of the world’s great evolutionary biologists. I hope that people remember him for the great scientist he was, as well as for his bold statements against ignorance and superstition. I find this one of the most moving videos I’ve seen. Reminds me so much of another eloquent scientist, Carl Sagan.

Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Sahara … Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here.

 

More Crimes Against Logic

Finishing our discussion of  Crimes Against Logic …

Begging the Question – Begging the question is assuming (usually in the form of a premise) the conclusion we intend to prove. Here are some examples: “Freedom is good for society because it is conducive to the good of the community.” “Chloroform renders people unconscious because it’s soporific.” “The reason that there is a big demand for a Harvard education is because everyone wants to get into the school.” Or  consider this argument:

Abortion is unjustified killing;
Unjustified killing is murder;
Thus, abortion is murder.

Abortion may be murder, but this argument doesn’t show it because it begs the question—it assumes what it’s trying to prove because unjustified killing is just another name for murder. Or try this:

The Bible says that Yahweh is the one true god.
The Bible cannot be mistaken because it is the word of Yahweh.
Thus, Yahweh is the one true god.

Yahweh may be the one true god, but this argument doesn’t show it because it begs the question.

Coincidence – Coincidence, regarding events, refers to the appearance of a meaningful connection when there is none. Humans often see patterns where there are just random fluctuations—just listen to post game sports analysis. And people often assume that what follows from something caused it—that correlation equals causation. (I wore blue jeans and then it rained, thus my jeans caused the rain.) This is called “post hoc propter ergo hoc.”

The only good way to test the causal connection between, for example, taking a drug and getting better is a scientifically controlled experiment. With two similar groups, we test how quickly persons recover with (test group) and without (control group) the drug. Unless carefully conducted experiments show something works,  there is absolutely no reason believe it does.

In fact, our very existence is coincidental, but most of us think we result from a cosmic plan. We might even conclude that gods exist because the likelihood of human life was so improbable. But this is like saying that all lotteries are fixed. Yes, it is extremely unlikely that anyone wins the lottery, but that doesn’t mean it’s fixed when someone wins. It‘s extremely unlikely you make four aces playing poker, but that doesn’t mean you cheated.

Humans are well-known to have cognitive biases. The list on Wikipedia shows nearly 100 well-known and named cognitive biases. For instance, Thomas Gilovich found that most people thought that the sequence, “OXXXOXXXOXXOOOXOOXXOO” looked non-random, when, in fact, it has several characteristics maximally probable for a “random” stream.

Statistics – Something may be statistically true, but the conclusion you draw from those stats is debatable. Do cancer rates go up because of air pollution, chemicals in food, people living longer, something else, some combination of the above, some combination of the above and something else, or …? Only scientific experiments can sort this out. Moreover, the statistics you hear are often mistaken. For example, you may have heard that people only use 10% of their brains, yet this is false. Consider the following:

That 35% of British children live in poverty vastly overstates the case since most of what they need—education, health care, and housing—is provided to all.
Even if the stats accurately report what people say they do, you can’t be sure they would actually do what they say they would do.
You need to know the source of the stats so as to avoid sample bias. If we ask members of the US Table Tennis Association how many of them enjoy table tennis, we would probably get a figure close to 100%. If we asked starving children in Africa the same question, we would probably get a figure close to 0%.
Stats are often just plain wrong and nobody bothers to check them.

Morality Fever – Moral fervor isn’t a refutation of a position.

What’s Wicked is False – Just because it’s bad to believe something doesn’t make that belief false. It may be bad to not believe in the gods, but the gods may still not exist.
What’s Beneficial is True – Just because it’s beneficial to believe something doesn’t make the belief true. It may be good to  believe in the gods, but the gods may still not exist.
The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth – Just because someone is a victim of injustice doesn’t mean their opinions are correct. And just because you feel guilty about something you did doesn’t mean the victims of your actions are virtuous.

Conclusion – “If the matter at hand is something you genuinely care about, then you should seek more than ever to believe the truth about it. And rationality is merely that way of thinking that gives your beliefs the greatest chance of being true.”(156)