24.00: Problems of Philosophy Prof. Sally Haslanger December 5, 2001 Particularism and Virtue Ethics I. Universalism and Particularism We've considered before some basic questions that we would expect a moral theory to answer: i) Which acts are right and which are wrong? Which acts ought we to perform (understanding the "ought" as a moral "ought")? ii) What makes a particular action right or wrong? What is it about the action that determines its moral status? iii) How do we know what is right and wrong? Both utilitarianism and Kantianism (and egoism) are what are sometimes called universalistic moral theories: they provide a single general characterization of what makes an action right or wrong that determines for anyone at any time what is the right (or wrong) thing to do. A utilitarian holds that actions are right insofar as they maximize happiness [pleasure, utility]; a Kantian holds that actions are right insofar as they satisfy the categorical imperative. These views are universalistic because regardless of who you are, where you came from, what role you currently occupy, or what your own desires/preferences are, the same principle that determines what you ought to do, determines what everyone else ought to do. (Note that it doesn't follow that you can always tell what it is that you ought to do; sometimes it is difficult to apply the principle to get a clear result because we don't have enough information, etc.) We've noted before that utilitarianism and Kantianism (and egoism) are also objectivist moral theories, i.e., they are committed to there being objective moral truth; morality is not just a matter of what a particular group or individual believes to be right or wrong. But not all objectivist moral theories are universalistic. According to some moral theories, what you ought to do in a particular situation may depend in part on particular facts about yourself, your culture, and your social role, that a universalistic theory would not regard as morally significant. Another way of putting it is that universalistic theories tend to view morality in terms of what our responsibilities are to each other as persons, where this might mean viewing us as individuals capable of happiness [pleasure, utility], or as individuals capable of rationality or freedom. What is morally significant about us, i.e., what is the proper subject of moral agency and the object of moral concern, is the same for all. From the universalistic perspective, arguably, the moral stance is a stance of impartiality: to act morally is to act, in a sense, with due respect to the equal personhood of all. In contrast to universalistic theories, some moral theories are particularist. Particularist theories resist the idea that morality consists in universal principles that apply to all of us as persons. Although a particularist may allow that there are some universal principles, or that there are some moral requirements that apply to us as persons, this does not exhaust the moral domain. More specifically, the particularist is concerned to emphasize the way in which our actions are embedded in particular social roles and relationships that structure what is right and wrong for each of us. Note that this is not a return to a form of (cultural) relativism. The particularist is not saying that whether I ought to perform an action A is entirely a matter of what my culture says I ought to do. The particularist holds that there are objective facts about what I ought to do. But what I ought to do is not determined simply by my personhood (and the personhood of those affected), but is at least partly determined by particular social and historical facts about me (and those around me). (Hopefully the contrast between particularism and relativism will become clearer as we proceed.) II. MacIntyre's Virtue Ethics There are different versions of particularism. We will look briefly at a form of virtue ethics espoused by Alasdair MacIntyre that is plausibly particularist (note that there are many forms of virtue ethics too!). Virtue ethics is often inspired by the ancient Greek approach to ethics found in Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. For the ancient Greeks, the notion of virtue is tied to the notion of function. The virtues of something are what enable it to perform excellently its proper function. Virtue extends beyond the realm of morality; it concerns the excellent performance of any function. For example the function of a paring knife is to cut fruits and vegetables. A paring knife "has virtues" relative to that function, e.g., a good paring knife is sharp, strong, easy to handle, etc. From this it appears that our own broad idea of virtue retains the Greek suggestion that virtue is excellence in performing one's proper function. MacIntyre argues that there are three stages in his account of the virtues. In the first stage he links virtue with practices; in the second stage he links virtue with the good life for humans; in the third stage he links virtue with traditions. (See, e.g., p. 245) Let's consider each in turn: i) Virtues and practices Begin with the idea of a role. Typically for professional roles there are specific tasks one is expected to perform and a particular function one is supposed to serve. So, e.g., the function of a doctor is to heal, of a professor is to teach, of a cab driver to deliver people to their destinations. Being a good doctor, professor, or cab driver, will involve particular "virtues" specific to the role. MacIntyre calls these "professional skills"; they are virtues in the narrowest sense. (p. 239) Virtues are broader than this, however, for they concern our dispositions to act across a wider range of situations. But still, MacIntyre suggests, virtues are grounded in narratives that provide unity to our lives. In asking, "What should I do?" one must first situate oneself in a narrative that gives the context for one's intentions and the expected consequences. [Example of man working in the garden. p. 240-1] The answer, then, will depend on one's role in this broad narrative. For example, in acting in the context in question is one acting as a wife or a husband? a parent or a child? an eldest son? a black sheep of the family? an unruly daughter? Just as there are "virtues" for a professional role, there are virtues for such narrative roles, i.e., there are better and worse ways of "playing the part". In order to make sense of ourselves and others we construct narratives, situate each other in parts, and evaluate our options (and each other) against the backdrop of the narrative structure. Internal to these narratives we will be able to achieve certain goods; the relationships of parent/child, teacher/student, etc. involve a set of practices that enable us to obtain things that are good, and in some cases unique to the practice (e.g., the pride in getting an "A"). But we're not yet talking about moral virtue. ii) Virtues and "the good life" Continuing with the Greek conception of virtue, human virtue is that which enables a human being to perform well or excellently the proper function of a human being. A virtuous person is one who has the ability to live excellently, i.e., to live a full, productive, and happy human life. Moral goodness (moral virtue) is a kind of functional goodness: goodness relative to our proper purpose or function. We may find it odd to speak of the proper goal or function of a human being; what is the function of human beings? The function of something is linked to what it can do especially well, or what only it can do. For humans, to put the point broadly, this is to live a distinctively human life; of course what constitutes a distinctively human life, and distinctively human excellence is controversial. Here an extended quote from MacIntyre will be helpful in fleshing out his view of the human good, and his version of virtue ethics: The virtues therefore are to be understood as those dispositions which will not only sustain practices and enable us to achieve the goods internal to practices, but which will also sustain us in the relevant kind of quest for the good, enabling us to overcome the harms, dangers, temptations and distractions which we encounter, and which will furnish us with increasing self-knowledge and increasing knowledge of the good. The catalogue of the virtues will therefore include the virtues required to sustain the kind of households and kind of political communities in which men and women can seek the good together and the virtues necessary for philosophical enquiry about the character of the good....the good life for [human beings] is the life spent in seeking for the good life for [human beings], and the virtues necessary for the seeking are those which will enable us to understand what more and what else the good life for [human beings] is. (p. 245) Each virtue enables one to perform well in a particular sphere of life, and the virtues together enable one to live a good life as a whole. For example, bravery enables one to perform well in situations of danger; justice enables one to carry out successfully one's dealings with the others in a community; having all of the virtues enables one to perform excellently in all aspects of life. Truly living well--achieving the good life--requires that one have all of the virtues; complete virtue is the key to happiness. iii) Virtues and traditions: social identity and moral particularity The link between virtue and the good life provides a basis for an overarching set of human virtues common to us all. However, remember MacIntyre is a particularist. So we still need to understand where the particularism is located in his view. As a particularist, MacIntyre needs to argue that what I ought to do in a situation is not necessarily what another ought to do; there are at least some cases in which no universal principle can adequately direct us. He says: I am never able to seek for the good or exercise the virtues only qua individual...it is not just that different individuals live in different social circumstances; it is also that we all approach our own circumstances as bearers of a particular social identity. I am someone's son or daughter, someone's cousin or uncle; I am a citizen of this or that city, a member of this or that guild or profession; I belong to this clan, that tribe, this nation. Hence what is good for me has to be the good for one who inhabits these roles. As such, I inherit from the past of my family, my city, my tribe, my nation, a variety of debts, inheritances, rightful expectations and obligations. These constitute the given of my life, my moral starting point. This is in part what gives my life its own moral particularity. (p. 245) He goes on to emphasize that we need not be limited by the traditions and the history that give us our social identities; in fact we can go on to critique and repudiate the values implicit in them. However, one enters moral life already possessing a substantive identity (one is not born a moral "blank slate"), and even if one rejects this identity, this too is a move in a particular narrative and is possible only within certain traditions. III. Impartiality and Virtue According to a virtue ethics, one's moral obligations are derived, at least in part, from one's particular social identity, one's social roles, one's tradition. E.g., a wife has different obligations towards her husband than others have, and what obligations she has qua wife depend on the cultural meaning of the relationship between husband and wife. In cultures that lack the social role of wife, there are no specifically wifely obligations. In his essay, "Impartiality, Beneficence, and Friendship," Lawrence Blum argues that our duty to be impartial, insofar as there is one, is derived from particular social roles and does not apply to us generally. E.g., we are obligated to be impartial when in the role of judge, or teacher, but in our ordinary dealings with others we are entitled to be partial towards our friends and family. Although Blum does not endorse the full extent of MacIntyre's virtue ethics, his argument is compatible with MacIntyre's account, and with the basic strategies of virtue ethics. Very briefly, his argument is this (see especially p. 103): 1. There is no general moral requirement to be impartial regarding people's interests per se. I.e., one is not morally obligated to treat everyone's interests equally. (This is argued for in section II, pp. 101-2) 2. We have a duty to be impartial between legitimate claims on us, i.e., we must attempt "with equal care" to satisfy all legitimate claims. (And a legitimate claim is not generated automatically by having interests.) 3. Legitimate claims on us are derived from our particular social relationships to others, e.g., being a parent, a friend, a lawyer, an employer. 4. So insofar as impartiality is a duty, it derives from particular social relationships to others. (1, 2, 3) 5. So, we are not required to be impartial between those we have an established relationship with and those we do not. (4) From this we can conclude that we have no obligation, then, to give significant amounts to aid distant others with whom we have no relationship. It would appear that this provides a way out of Singer's conclusions. How would Singer respond? One strategy would be to note that the argument as it stands is not conclusive. Blum argues that we don't have a general moral obligation to respond impartially to people's interests per se, and we do have an obligation to respond to legitimate claims on us derived from particular relationships. But these options are not necessarily exhaustive. Perhaps we also have a duty to respond impartially to extreme human need; or perhaps those in danger of extreme suffering and death do have legitimate claims on us even if they do not have an established relationship with us. And Blum seems to grant this latter point. (p. 102) So although virtue ethics provides a strategy for responding to Singer, it has not offered a conclusive rebuttal. Questions: 1. Is there a real difference between MacIntyre's particularism and universalism? Isn't there a way to formulate a general moral requirement that he himself suggests, e.g., "[we need] to recognize the existence of an additional virtue...the virtue of having an adequate sense of traditions to which one belongs or which confront one..." (p. 248)? 2. Why should we think that individuals "inherit" the moral obligations, etc., of their history and tradition? Aren't we each free to make our own path in life? Isn't what's good for me a matter of my choices and preferences? What reasons does MacIntyre give for denying this?