Saturday, November 07, 2015

Whately and the Golden Rule

I've been receiving quite a few search engine hits recently on some variation of 'richard whately's criticism of the golden rule', so I imagine some philosophy professor somewhere has had a unit on the subject. (Probably from Pojman and Vaughan's The Moral Life, which gives its selection from Whately the title, 'A Critique of the Golden Rule'.) In any case, from what I've seen elsewhere, there also seems to be a fair amount of confusion on the subject, so I thought I would say something about it.

Whately's discussion occurs in the Introductory Lessons on Morals. The context is actually quite important. One of the themes of this work is that human beings have a moral faculty, which we call conscience, and one of the subthemes is that all moral rules and standards are addressing this moral faculty, which they presuppose. Thus when Whately 'criticizes' the Golden Rule, he is really arguing that Scriptural moral guidance by its nature presupposes our ability to discern right and wrong. It does not follow that he rejects it or considers it to be unimportant. The Golden Rule, which is his example, cannot be the foundation of morality, but it can be a principle for cultivating and correcting our conscience. His analogy is that of a clock and a sundial, with the clock standing in for conscience and the sundial for Scriptural rules. If you want to tell time, the clock is in general the most convenient way, since it is always available and can be placed anywhere, whereas the sundial can only be used when the sun shines on it. But clocks that go wrong go consistently wrong and cannot correct themselves. If you want to make sure your clock is keeping accurate time, you need to correct it occasionally on the basis of a more reliable timepiece, like the sundial. Thus he concludes (p. 30):

We must be careful, therefore, to regulate both our business by the clock, and the clock by the dial; that is, to regulate our conduct by our Conscience, and our Conscience itself by the commands and instructions which God has given us.

The Golden Rule in particular, as Whately sees it, serves to counterbalance the bias of self-interest. Although he does not say explicitly, I think Whately here is drawing from Butler, who in his sermon on self-deception notes our excessive partiality to ourselves and uses precisely the example that Whately uses: David and Nathan. David, having committed adultery with Bathsheba and caused her husband to be slain, had less of a sense of the wrongness of the act than he did from Nathan's story of a rich man stealing a poor man's lamb; he did not apply his correct principles in the latter to himself until Nathan turned the story on him. Thus the Golden Rule serves as our Nathan:

And we, if we will make a practice of applying the golden rule, may have a kind of prophet always at hand, to remind us how, and when, to act on our principles of right.

Thus it is misleading to speak of Whately's "criticism" of the Golden Rule. He fully affirms it and insists that it is of extraordinary moral value. What he criticizes, rather, are relatively thoughtless interpretations and applications of it -- interpretations that, it should be said, he does not attribute to anyone or regard as particularly plausible interpretations of the rule in the first place. [ADDED LATER: It's perhaps worth insisting on this latter point: the whole structure of Whately's argument requires the interpretation that he thinks pretty much everyone can see at once that these absurd, wrong, or impossible applications are problematic, and this is further required by his basic thesis that such rules are directed to our innate ability to think morally.] People do not, in fact, tend to interpret the rule in the absurd, wrong, or impossible ways with which Whately opens his discussion -- they are raised in order to open a larger discussion of the relationship between conscience and the moral guidance of Scripture.

Links of Note, Noted for Their Notability

Due to a convergence of time-eating monsters, I'm taking another week to finish Villette, just so I don't have to rush it; so that post will be for next week.

* Les Green criticizes the taste for originality in certain circles of academic philosophy, which leads to competent base-work not getting done properly or else getting ignored.

* The excellent Jennifer Frey has some posts on the value of studying Aquinas in the context of ethics:
Why Aquinas? Part 1
Why Aquinas? Part 2

* Roger Pearse hunts down the sources of the quotation "Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad".

* Sabine Hassenfelder discusses the aporetic tetrad that structures current black hole research in physics.

* Kara Richardson on Causation in Arabic and Islamic Thought at the SEP

* An account of the New Martyrs of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, who are currently beatified; it also serves as a good summary of just what a trial of fire the UGCC has survived over the past century and a half.

* The Ukraine is currently undergoing an active decommunization, which raises the problem of what to do with Communist monuments. One Ukrainian artist realized that a statue of Lenin would be very easy to repurpose into a statue of Darth Vader.

* Stephan Schmid responds to Sydney Penner on Suarez on final causation.

* Peter Kwasniewski discusses the marriage analogy for the hypostatic union.

* The Battle of Agincourt was fought on October 25, 1415. Anne Curry discusses some of the incorrect views floating around about the battle.

* Tom Simon discusses the ozamataz and legosity of fiction that builds up a fan base.

* A short history of the ellipsis.

* Thomas Heinrich Stark discusses the relationship between mercy and justice in Thomas Aquinas.

* Leigh Johnson reflects on the case for having students memorize poetry.

* Bob Kurland discusses Duhem's account of the history of science.

* A selection from Ludwig von Pastor on the corruptions introduced by the Avignon Papacy.

* A look at how construction in Iceland accommodates the common Icelandic belief in elves.

* Mike Flynn on the rise of sentiment and the fall of civilization.

* MrD has an excellent critique of Fr. Thomas Reese's commentary on the synod.

ADDED LATER:

* Dorothy Cummings McLean has some scathing comments about certain sectors of academic theology.

Thursday, November 05, 2015

Hume and Hopes for Moral Wisdom

I am currently substituting for another professor's Ethics course, and was pleased to see that I would be able to do a little David Hume next week. Unfortunately, the text is Russ Shafer-Landau's The Fundamentals of Ethics. This is what Shafer-Landau says about Hume in the second edition (pp. 76-77):

There are many skeptical arguments that try to undermine hopes for moral wisdom. Here is a perennial favorite, a variation on an argument developed by the brilliant Scottish philosopher David Hume (1711-1776). Let's call this Hume's Argument, in his honor:

1. We can know only two sorts of claims: conceptual truths or empirical truths.
2. Moral claims are neither conceptual truths nor empirical truths.
3. Therefore, we can have no moral knowledge....

Hume had a supporting reason for thinking that moral knowledge could not be mpirical. Empirical knowledge tells us how to describe the world. And when we describe the world, we talk about what is the case. But morality speaks of what ought to be the case. How can we get from descriptions to prescriptions? How does knowing how the world actually works enable us to learn how it ought to work? Hume thought that there was no answer to this question. If he is right, there is a gap between what is and what ought to be, a gap that can never be crossed.

One hardly knows where to begin. I suppose one has to begin with what Hume's actual view is. Hume thinks moral claims can be empirical truths. Shafer-Landau footnotes the Treatise of Human Nature, Book III, Part 1 as the source of "Hume's Argument"; but Book III, Part 1 is specifically about rationalism. In Shafer-Landau's terminology, it argues that morality is not a conceptual truth (more precisely, it is not a relation of ideas recognized by reason). If one reads just a little more, into Part 2, one quickly discovers that Hume is a moral sense theorist, and thus in Shafer-Landau's terminology holds that morality consists of empirical truths about moral sentiment. This is the very first paragraph of Part 2:

Thus the course of the argument leads us to conclude, that since vice and virtue are not discoverable merely by reason, or the comparison of ideas, it must be by means of some impression or sentiment they occasion, that we are able to mark the difference betwixt them. Our decisions concerning moral rectitude and depravity are evidently perceptions; and as all perceptions are either impressions or ideas, the exclusion of the one is a convincing argument for the other. Morality, therefore, is more properly felt than judged of; though this feeling or sentiment is commonly so soft and gentle, that we are apt to confound it with an idea, according to our common custom of taking all things for the same, which have any near resemblance to each other.

He then goes on to talk about how moral distinctions are founded on sensations, namely, some kind of pleasure and pain (but not every kind of pleasure or pain). This is as empirical as it gets; it would have been recognized as obviously such in Hume's day, and Hume's own empiricism requires taking it as such.

As to the claim that you can't get an ought from an is, I have discussed this before, so I will simply link to some of my posts on it:

Hume on Ought and Is, Part I: Background
Hume on Ought and Is, Part II: The Argument
Hume on Ought and Is, Part III: Conclusions

The irony is that Hume is being deployed in context against natural law theorists on one of a very small handful of things with respect to which Hume agrees with natural law theorists: that we are naturally capable of recognizing moral good and bad.

Fortunately, disagreeing with the book sometimes makes for the best philosophy classes.

Bright, Rejoicing Gates

The Coming of Morn
by Charles Heavysege


See how the Morn awakes. Along the sky
Proceeds she with her pale, increasing light,
And, from the depths of the dim canopy,
Drives out the shadows of departing night.
Lo, the clouds break, and gradually more wide
Morn openeth her bright, rejoicing gates;
And ever, as the orient valves divide,
A costlier aspect on their breadth awaits.

Lo, the clouds break, and in each opened schism
The coming Phoebus lays huge beams of gold,
And roseate fire and glories that the prism
Would vainly strive before us to unfold;
And, while I gaze, from out the bright abysm
A flaming disc is to the horizon rolled.

Tuesday, November 03, 2015

Music on My Mind



Nightwish, "Élan".

Due to various unexpected events, my schedule this week has been thrown utterly out of joint, so posting is likely to be fairly light in content and perhaps volume for the rest of the week.

Monday, November 02, 2015

All Souls

When then—if such thy lot—thou seest thy Judge,
The sight of Him will kindle in thy heart
All tender, gracious, reverential thoughts.
Thou wilt be sick with love, and yearn for Him,
And feel as though thou couldst but pity Him,
That one so sweet should e'er have placed Himself
At disadvantage such, as to be used
So vilely by a being so vile as thee.
There is a pleading in His pensive eyes
Will pierce thee to the quick, and trouble thee.
And thou wilt hate and loathe thyself; for, though
Now sinless, thou wilt feel that thou hast sinn'd,
As never thou didst feel; and wilt desire
To slink away, and hide thee from His sight:
And yet wilt have a longing aye to dwell
Within the beauty of His countenance.
And these two pains, so counter and so keen,—
The longing for Him, when thou seest Him not;
The shame of self at thought of seeing Him,—
Will be thy veriest, sharpest purgatory.

Bl. John Henry Newman, Dream of Gerontius.

Sunday, November 01, 2015

The Maronite Year I

I have a strong attraction to the Maronite liturgy, one that predates my becoming Catholic. A little-known fact about me is that when I did become Catholic, I seriously considered doing so by way of the Maronite rite; I ended up not going that route for logistical reasons, but the Maronites are still one of the things I like best about the Catholic Church. This Sunday happens to be the beginning of the Maronite liturgical year, and one of the things I especially like about the Maronite liturgy is how its liturgical year is structured, so I thought I might try doing a series of syllabic poems for the Sundays and holy days of the Maronite year. I don't know if I'll manage to do all the major ones, but I should be able to get a few of them.

And so we start with the first Sunday. As an Antiochene church, the Maronites put an immense amount of emphasis on the confession of Peter, and it is with this that they start their year.

Sunday of the Consecration of the Church
Hebrews 9:1-12; Matthew 16:13-20

Earthly sanctuaries men have built,
by reason forming respectful rites,
to render homage to Most High God;
but God to Israel gave a higher way.

By law and earthly sanctuary
He gave us light, and holy bread,
prayerful incense, and covenant;
but even greater has God given to us.

A living temple He has formed.
His anointed is the Lamb on high,
the Priest who offers Himself to God;
Light and Bread of Life, He brings new covenant.

Who is our high Priest? Hear Peter's words:
"You are Christ, Son of the living God."
This is a divine revelation!
On Peter and his word Christ has built His Church.

Peter and all of the apostles,
joined as one, are the firm foundation.
Paul raised the structure. We are the stones.
Inside, the Lamb is enthroned, our salvation.

Entering the Church I was in awe;
I saw prophets, apostles, martyrs,
virgins and righteous men and women;
I saw the priests with baptism and the cross.

Priests raised Christ high above the altars
as cherubim sang alleluias:
earth and heaven were joined in prayer
through perfection, purity, and sanctity.

Rise to shine, O Church! Rise up in grace!
With smiling faces hymn your Savior.
O Christ, drive out evil from Your Church;
make us a lasting tower of salvation.