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In
this essay, references are made to the
Great
Books of the Western
World
(GBWW), edited by Mortimer J. Adler. This set of
books is now available through The Academy
Bookstore.
Ethics:
Fourth Century B.C. and Twentieth Century
A.D.
By Mortimer J. Adler, Ph.D.
In 1986, on the 100th anniversary of Yeshiva
College in New York City, the president of the
college, Norman Lamm, gave a convocation address
that was later published in the New York
Times. He said that "until about fifty years
ago, it was commonly accepted that the university
was responsible for offering its students moral
guidance." Since then moral skepticism, the view
that value judgments, judgments about what is good
and evil, right and wrong, cannot have objective
validity, has been regnant in our colleges. It did
not begin in the 1960s, as one might suppose by
reading Allan Bloom's book The
Closing of the American Mind. In 1940 I
wrote an article for Harper's Magazine,
entitled "This Pre-War Generation," which described
the inroads then of moral skepticism at the
University of Chicago, Mr. Bloom's university.
"Such value-agnosticism in the academic
enterprise," President Lamm went on to say, "is
self-destructive.... An educational system that is
amoral in the name of 'scientific objectivity,'
thus devours its own young . . . Permitting a
generation of students to grow up as ethical
illiterates and moral idiots, unprepared to cope
with ordinary life experiences, is a declaration of
education bankruptcy."
"Moral idiots" is strong talk, but it does
express the repugnance that is evoked by those who
deny objective validity to all moral judgments. In
doing so they take the view expressed by the
sophist Thrasymachus in Plato's Republic
that might is right -- that those who have the
power to tyrannize over others, whether that be an
absolute despot or a democratic majority, cannot be
rationally condemned as unjust or as violating
human rights. Those who are oppressed by such
tyranny may not like it, but they cannot, in the
court of reason, contend that it is wrong, assuming
that one view or another must prevail.
Lest readers suppose that I am conjuring up an
amoral monster, let me quote some statements by
Judge Robert Bork, who when I wrote this was
President Reagan's nominee for a seat on the
Supreme Court. Bork has been quoted as saying that
no "system of ethical or moral values" has
"objective or intrinsic validity of its own." He
has written that "every clash between a majority
and a minority claiming power to regulate involves
a choice between gratifications"; and that "there
is no principled way to decide that one man's
gratifications are more deserving of respect than
another's." The majority's gratifications should
prevail because might is right.
Where did judge Bork learn to think and talk
this way? At the University of Chicago in the
1940s. From whom did he learn it? From his
professors in the social sciences who think and
talk that way, and also from Professor Rudolf
Carnap and other logical positivists in the
philosophy department who regard ethics as a
noncognitive discipline, concerned only with what
feelings, desires, or impulses are expressed in
talk about good and evil, right and wrong. All
judgments about such matters are entirely
subjective, relative to the individual and the
circumstances of the time and place.
I have been aware of this academic rejection of
moral philosophy as genuine knowledge -- as a body
of valid truths -- since the 1930s. In various
ways, in articles and lectures, I have attempted to
combat it. Finally, in 1970, I published The
Time of Our Lives: The Ethics of Common
Sense, in which I reformulated the
fundamental truths of Aristotle's Nicomachean
Ethics in twentieth-century terms and
exposed the modern errors in ethics perpetuated by
Hume, Kant, Nietzsche, John Stuart Mill and other
utilitarians; and in a lengthy postscript, I
demonstrated why it can be said that Aristotle's
Ethics contains the only sound, totally
undogmatic, and thoroughly pragmatic moral
philosophy that we have in the whole twenty-five
centuries of Western thought.
Its soundness rests on the fact that only one
self-evident prescriptive truth is required as a
basis for all its prescriptive conclusions; its
undogmatic character stems from the fact that it
sets forth no ad hoc rules of conduct but
instead attributes leading a good life to the
effects of moral virtue and the benefits of good
fortune; its pragmatic appeal is that it offers us
an attainable goal in response to the question
everyone must ask, "How should I live?" or "What is
the right conduct of life?"
Since 1970 I have written other books that
carried forward the main message of The
Time of Our Lives: in 1978, the
chapters in Part III of a book entitled Aristotle
for Everybody; in 1981, chapters
10-13 in Six
Great Ideas; and in 1985, chapters
5, 6, 8 in Ten
Philosophical Mistakes.
It is against this background that I now comment
on two recently published books by professors of
philosophy -- After
Virtue, by Alasdair Maclntyre
(1981), and Ethics
and the Limits of Philosophy, by
Bernard Williams (1985), especially the latter.
I was delighted by the critique of all
post-seventeenth-century attempts to provide a
sound moral philosophy that I found in the books by
Maclntyre and Williams, which more than amply
confirmed the criticism I myself had leveled at
Hume, Kant, and J. S. Mill and other utilitarians
in The Time of Our Lives. I was further
delighted by the praise that both authors lavished
on Aristotle's Ethics as a great
contribution to moral philosophy that we have
inherited from antiquity.
At the same time, I was sorely puzzled and
disturbed by the fact that both authors, each in
his own way, found Aristotle's contribution flawed
by its antiquity, so that it no longer remained as
sound for us today as it once was for Greeks in the
fourth century B.C.
Here I part company from them. In my view,
Aristotle's moral philosophy is just as objectively
true, just as pragmatically sound, just as
practically wise today as it was then. In my view,
human nature is exactly the same today as it was in
Greek antiquity. In my view, all the manifold
changes in our social, political, and economic
institutions that have occurred since then,
combined with all the extraordinary technological
innovations that condition our lives today, are
totally irrelevant to the problem we all face when
we ask ourselves the primary ethical question: "How
should I conduct my life?"
I reviewed Professor Maclntyre's book in The
Great Ideas Today 1982, summarizing it
by saying that, according to Professor Maclntyre,
modern thought (lacking as it does the Aristotelian
conception of moral virtue as a well-established
habit of the will that directs it to the right
final end and confers on it an habitual right
choice of means to that end) is bankrupt when it
tries to answer the question: How should I conduct
my life? [1]
I went on to say that the bankruptcy of moral
philosophy in modern times does not stem solely
from the loss of the concept of moral virtue, but
also from the loss of other elements in Aristotle's
Ethics that are inextricably connected with
its concept of moral virtue. Central to this is a
nonhedonistic and nonpsychological conception of
happiness as a normative, not a terminal, final
end, requiring nothing less for its realization
than a whole life well-lived in accordance with
virtue, and accompanied by a moderate possession of
those external goods that are not entirely within
the power of the individual to obtain, but which
become ingredients in his or her life partly
through the blessings of good fortune.
Apart from certain other defects in Maclntyre's
understanding of Aristotle's Ethics, which I
pointed out in my 1982 review of his book, my main
objection to it was the fact that Professor
Maclntyre tried to salvage the truth in Aristotle's
ethical doctrine by abandoning Aristotle's
conception of human nature, which is the rock on
which his whole ethical edifice is built, while
defending the un-Aristotelian view that everyone
should he free to conceive happiness in his or her
own way.
Professor Maclntyre's abandonment of Aristotle's
conception of human nature came about, he tells us,
in obedience to the scientific prejudice against
Aristotle's "metaphysical biology" as well as to
the existentialist dogma that there is no such
thing as a common and constant human nature.
[2] Maclntyre's
rejection of the view that the lineaments of a
morally good life as a whole are the same for all
human beings was his attempt, he tells us, to
placate a twentiethcentury individualistic
"liberalism" that insists upon allowing each
individual to decide for himself how to live
well.
After Virtue was Professor Maclntyre's
faulty attempt to retain some currency for such
truth as there is in Aristotle's Ethics by
deflating it to accommodate these two contemporary
prejudices, neither of which is defensible. I
concluded my review of Maclntyre's book by saying
that neither prejudice can be regarded as a good
reason for replacing Aristotle's Ethics with
a moral philosophy that is less sound, and that is
especially deficient because it cannot combine a
principle of unconditional moral obligation with a
teleological consideration of means and ends.
Bernard Williams, the author of Ethics and
the Limits of Philosophy, also reviewed
Maclntyre's earlier book, and he gave it unstinting
praise. However, in his own book, he did not follow
Maclntyre by trying to resurrect Aristotle's
Ethics in contemporary, if also somewhat
deflated, terms. Professor Williams does believe
that modern thought is completely bankrupt in moral
philosophy, especially the dogmatic rationalism of
Kant, and the hedonistic utilitarianism of J. S.
Mill; he also thinks that in Greek antiquity
Aristotle's Ethics was a remarkably sound
solution of the problem of how to live well. But
unlike Professor Maclntyre, Williams does not think
that what was sound about Aristotle's ethical
doctrine can be resuscitated in the contemporary
world.
If that is really the case, then philosophy, so
far as ethics is concerned, is today completely
bankrupt. It may have achieved certain successes in
other fields in the twentieth century, but it is
now barred from attaining any truth with regard to
morals. For us and our descendants, there is no
valid philosophical solution to such questions as:
How should I conduct my life? What should I do to
live well? How can I succeed in the lifelong
pursuit of happiness?
But are we in fact at this pass? I do not
believe it. To someone like myself, who thinks that
Aristotle's Ethics is just as true
objectively and just as sound practically in the
twentieth century as it was in the fourth century
B.C., the question that must be asked of Professor
Williams is: What has changed in the world to cause
him to change his view of Aristotle's Ethics
-- in his view, philosophically tenable and
relevant for ancient Greeks, but, in his view,
philosophically untenable and irrelevant for us
today?
Before I try to answer this question, let me say
at once that if Professor Williams were correct in
his two main contentions -- (1) that modern thought
is bankrupt with regard to moral philosophy and (2)
that Aristotle's moral philosophy, while
practically sound and objectively true in Greek
antiquity, is no longer tenable in the twentieth
century or relevant to the conditions of life today
-- then we might have to concede that moral
skepticism or Nietzschean nihilism cannot be
condemned; that there are no objectively valid
moral judgments about what is good or evil, right
or wrong; and that Thrasymachus was correct in
arguing against the Socratic view of justice and in
asserting that might makes right.
But I do not think both of these contentions are
right. Rather, as readers of books (cited earlier
in this essay) I have published since 1970 already
know, I heartily subscribe to the first of them and
just as wholeheartedly reject the second. Hence I
have never felt obliged to concede that moral
skepticism is the only position we can adopt. On
the contrary, at least fifteen years before
Professor Williams stated his objections to
accepting any longer the moral wisdom contained in
Aristotle's Ethics as a guide to living
well, I wrote The Time of Our Lives, in
which many of his objections were anticipated and,
in my judgment, satisfactorily answered. Those that
were not then anticipated can be answered now, I
believe, as well.
Professor Williams attributes to Socrates in
Plato's Republic the question that is the
right starting point for moral inquiry and
reflection. The question is, how should one live?
"It is no ordinary matter that we are discussing,"
says Socrates, "but the right conduct of life"
(Republic [cf. GBWW, Vol. 7, p.
309b]). Professor Williams comments on this by
adding that the Greeks were impressed by the idea
that "such a question must, consequently, be about
a whole life and that a good way of living had to
issue in what, at its end, would be seen to have
been a good life. Impressed by the power of fortune
to wreck what looked like the best-shaped life,
some of them, Socrates, one of the first, sought a
rational design of life which ... would be to the
greatest possible extent luck-free" (pp. 4-5).
[3]
With such help as he
obtained from Plato, sifting the truths that he
found in his teachings from the errors he also
detected there, Aristotle formulated the rational
design for living well that, according to Professor
Williams, Socrates originally sought. This rational
design belonged to practical philosophy in that it
guided or directed us in our freely chosen actions,
but it had its theoretical foundation in
Aristotle's philosophical psychology -- his
conception of human nature and its species-specific
potentialities.
If Aristotle's theory of human nature has been
shown by modern science to be incorrect, it was
incorrect in the fourth century B.C. as well as
today; and it follows that Aristotle's moral
philosophy, which had its basis in his view of
human nature, was without foundation in antiquity
as well as today.
If Professor Williams is right in claiming that
Aristotle's moral philosophy is no longer valid for
us because we can no longer accept his
philosophical psychology as true, then Professor
Williams must be wrong in thinking, as he appears
to think, that it was a sound moral philosophy in
antiquity.
Against Professor Williams, I contend that since
the beginning of human life on earth some
forty-five million years ago with the appearance of
the species homo sapiens sapiens, specific
human nature has not changed in any essential
respect. The potentialities that constitute
specific human nature are constant from generation
to generation, and they will remain constant as
long as the human species endures on earth.
[4]
Aristotle's
philosophical psychology is an analysis of those
potentialities, from which is derived his account
of man's inherent, natural needs and what is
required for their fulfillment or actualization.
This in turn leads to his insight about the
distinction between real and apparent goods in
relation to the distinction between natural and
acquired desires -- needs and wants.
It is a short step from this to the one
underlying self-evident principle of moral
philosophy -- that we ought to want what we need,
which is to say that we ought to desire everything
that is really good for us, and that a good human
life as a whole consists in the cumulative
attainment of all the things that are really good
for every human being, through moral virtue and
good luck, together with getting such innocuous
apparent goods as one or another individual may
want for himself or herself.
To
Page Two
Notes:
1. The most striking
difference between ethics and politics is that the
development of political wisdom is dependent on
history, as ethics is not.
I pointed out in The Time of Our Lives
that the ethics of common sense is as old as the
Greeks; Aristotle first expounded it. We may be
able to improve on his exposition a little, by
adding philosophical refinements here and there,
but its essential outlines remain unaltered 2,500
years later. The extraordinary changes in the human
environment that have taken place in that time --
the myriad changes in the social institutions and
in the technological conditions of human life -- do
not affect the answer that common sense, based on
common experience, gives to the question, How can I
make a good life for myself? In other words, what
is really good for a man is the same yesterday,
today, and tomorrow, because man is the same. Only
a basic change in the nature of man, amounting to
emergence of another species, would call for
fundamentally different answers to the question
about the good life.
In contrast to ethics, political thought is
conditioned by the shape of existing institutions
at a given historic moment and by the limited
vision that such institutions give us of the
possibility for further changes in the future.
Revolution and progress operate in the sphere of
politics as they do not operate in the sphere of
ethics. What I have just said includes
technological as well as institutional changes.
Because it is so relevant here, let me recall my
fundamental thesis that all progress which has so
far been made in the social life of man has been
accomplished by cumulative improvements in
technology and in social institutions, without any
improvement in the nature of mail."
The foregoing passage is quoted from The
Common Sense of Politics, which I published in
1971. Return.
2. The French
existentialist Maurice Merleau-Ponty declared that
"it is the nature of man not to have a nature." In
a recent interview with Saul Bellow, the Nobel
prizewinning novelist is quoted as saying "Some of
us old curmudgeons grew up believing there was such
a thing as human nature. All the evidence lately
says no." What evidence? The extraordinary variety
of human behavior that anthropologists,
sociologists, and historians have found in
different ethnic and racial groups of human beings?
But, as I pointed out in chapter 8 of Ten
Philosophical Mistakes, this behavioral variety
is entirely the result of nurtural and cultural
differences, all of them superficial as compared
with the common and constant species-specific
properties of the human nature. These consist of
all the behavioral potentialities that are the same
everywhere at all times and places in the life of
mankind on earth. These potentialities are what
Aristotle thought human nature to
be. Return.
3. Socrates was wrong.
A truly rational design for living well, if it also
took account empirically of the tricks that fate
and fortune play in our lives, would acknowledge
that the conduct of our lives cannot be "luck-free"
See an extraordinary book on this subject, recently
published by Martha Nussbaum, entitled The
Fragility of Goodness: Luck and Ethics in
Greek Tragedy and Philosophy. What
distinguishes Aristotle's Nicomachean
Ethics, and also his Eudemian Ethics,
from the moral philosophy to be found in Plato's
dialogues, and especially the thought he attributed
to Socrates, is Aristotle's insistence upon the
blessings of good fortune and the avoidance of
serious misfortunes as necessary, if not
sufficient, factors in the pursuit of happiness.
That is why he called Priam, King of Troy, a
morally good man because he was virtuous, but one
who did not complete a good life because of his
misfortunes. Return.
4. See note 2 above.
Return.
To
Page Two
In
this essay, references are made to the
Great
Books of the Western
World
(GBWW), edited by Mortimer J. Adler. This set of
books is now available through The Academy
Bookstore.
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