Just as Wittgenstein is, and perhaps should, be considered an anomaly within the philosophic traditions, so too is his “Lecture on Ethics” an anomaly within moral philosophy. And as an anomaly, it would be more helpful to agree, or at least begin with, with what Joachim Schulte says, mainly that the “Lecture” is not an original contribution to ethics as a philosophical doctrine; rather, it is a thoroughly characteristic document of Wittgenstein’s personality (“Wittgenstein: An Introduction”). As with works by Nietzsche and Plato, the “Lecture” is a very personal document and Zamuner’s introduction helps establish this by reminding us that for Wittgenstein, ethics was a life-long preoccupation for him and one to the point of his self-torture (perhaps, how it should be for all people), not as preoccupied with advancing a painstakingly near-perfect doctrine of moral philosophy (as it seemingly is for most philosophers or, at least, “philosophers”).
In the “Lecture,” the only one of its kind, Wittgenstein, made himself and his content available, personally and without philosophical pretensions and as one of the drafts, which are included in this edition, states, he speaks as one human to another, attempting to disavow his authority (as a world-famous philosopher) (Zamuner). This is supported by Wittgenstein’s word choice in the presented or official lecture: “I should speak about something which I am keen on communicating to you, and that I should not misuse this opportunity.”
The “Lecture” itself is so short that to provide a summary of it would be to cover the entire lecture. Seemingly. So, as opposed to focusing on the Lecture’s content, I will highlight what Zamuner, and most, believe to be the purpose of the “Lecture,” which is not to understand its content anymore than it is to simply agree or disagree with it. As Nietzsche and Jung have taught us, a philosopher’s person, his childhood or experiences, influences or creates his philosophy, and Wittgenstein was not concerned with Ethics proper but rather was annoyed with people talking about ethics, to “claptrap” about ethics, all the while never being ethical or becoming ethical.
Even worse, when we read moral philosophy (assuming we are not reading it just to be informed or understand it), we are not so much trying to become ethical under the guidance of sages as we are escaping the personal demand to be ethical by evading its challenge to us, which is always and solely (and seemingly uniquely fitted) to each and every one of us, by allocating the situation, an existential situation I would say, to what someone else said for us to do; so, asking ourselves, “What would Aristotle or Kant say that I should do in this situation” is a Nietzschean really, “Man, I’m really hoping there’s something in Aristotle or Kant that can tell me what to do,” an evasion of the ethical, and one might add of even autonomy. The ethical is demanded of us after all, not two dead philosophers in Aristotle or Kant.
Whatever ethics is, it is no science, and it has neither facts nor methods that are applicable to everyone. But we want it to be a science as our lives would certainly be easier if it was. If it was a science, we could so easily follow it, just as one would a Test of General Relativity, and we would easily and correctly have addressed the dilemma. For Wittgenstein, reading a book on ethics makes as much sense as reading a book on how to change your life (if you love self-help bestsellers, he would have some bad news for or terrible thoughts about you, I'm afraid): again, it is not a science but wholly personal, seemingly unique to each and every one of us, and it is this demand, this inconvenience, that is the takeaway from the “Lecture,” a reminder that ethics is each and every person's personal dilemma, not some convenient abstraction or theory for everyone.
While the “Lecture on Ethics” does not fit any traditional presentation of ethics, it has its spirit in common with works by thinkers such as Plato and Nietzsche, neither of which preached, much less preached a program, a method, or an imperative, and for whom the truth about one’s way of life is left to the individual to workout for himself or herself, whether one sees that as fortunate or unfortunate.
Unlike the “Tractatus,” which he later disavowed, and the “Philosophical Investigations,” which if he could have ever disavowed, he never lived long enough to, Wittgenstein never disavowed the “Lecture on Ethics” (that we know of), but like most personal thinkers, he would seemingly welcome any disagreement with it as long as it was accompanied by a genuine, Rilkean “Du mußt dein Leben ändern.”