My Frustration with Ethics

Ethics is at once my favourite and least liked area of inquiry, espe­cially ethics courses.  One such course was an ‘intro­duc­tory’ Bioethics course I took last year; a course which famil­iar­ized and focused on Util­i­tar­i­an­ism, Kant’s Cat­e­gor­i­cal Imper­a­tive, and Virtue Ethics in rela­tion to the ‘prob­lems’ of Bioethics. The prob­lem is that ethics as it’s cur­rently prac­ticed is impos­si­ble, and it frus­trates me. The result is that I’ve taken to read­ing books on ethics (and virtue) and the out­look looks fairly bleak.

It was a com­mon require­ment of my Bioethics course to exam­ine dif­fer­ent issues from the per­spec­tives of at least two moral the­o­ries. I usu­ally chose Util­i­tar­i­an­ism and Kant’s Cat­e­gor­i­cal Imper­a­tive (I think now I would run to Virtue Ethics first). The prob­lem that makes ethics impos­si­ble is that there doesn’t seem the pos­si­bil­ity of con­sen­sus — by this I mean progress, or one eth­i­cal for­mu­la­tion being supe­rior to another — of one being ‘right’ and the other ‘wrong’. Ethics courses as I’ve expe­ri­enced them only allow for the pos­si­bil­ity of talk­ing about mean­ing­ful fic­tions, of con­cepts that are abstractly use­ful but lack any real cor­re­la­tion with real­ity. There is no independent-of-human-thinking right or wrong. Take Util­i­tar­i­an­ism, for example.

Of the Util­i­tar­ian view of hap­pi­ness and suf­fer­ing guid­ing our actions, Alas­dair Mac­In­tyre says:

If some­one sug­gests to us, in the spirit of Ben­tham and Mill, that we should guide our own choices by the prospects of our own future plea­sure or hap­pi­ness, the appro­pri­ate retort is to enquire: ‘But which plea­sure, which hap­pi­ness ought to guide me?’ For there are too many dif­fer­ent kinds of enjoy­able activ­ity, too many dif­fer­ent modes in which hap­pi­ness is achieved. And plea­sure or hap­pi­ness are not states of mind for the pro­duc­tion of which these activ­i­ties and modes are merely alter­na­tive means. The pleasure-of-drinking-Guinness is not the pleasure-of-swimming-at-Crane’s-Beach, and the swim­ming and the drink­ing are not two dif­fer­ent means for pro­vid­ing the same end-state. The hap­pi­ness which belongs pecu­liarly to the way of life of the clois­ter is not the same hap­pi­ness as that which belongs pecu­liarly to the mil­i­tary life. For dif­fer­ent plea­sures and dif­fer­ent hap­pi­nesses are to a large degree incom­men­su­rable: there are no scales of qual­ity or quan­tity on which to weight them. Con­se­quently, appeal to the cri­te­ria of plea­sure will not tell me where to drink or swim and appeal to those of hap­pi­ness can­not decide for me between the life of a monk and that of a solider. (Alas­dair Mac­In­tyre, After Virtue, 64)

Yet while this was acknowl­edged, the expec­ta­tion was to still be able to pro­duce some sort of qual­i­fied set of moral actions. The prob­lem becomes com­pounded when you real­ize that such deci­sions are future ori­ented (i.e. future hap­pi­ness, future pain). The the­ory fun­da­men­tally fails, yet I’m expected to use it. That wasn’t the worst of it, for in all this I was told (para­phrased), “While the the­ory as a whole has gaps, there are still nuggets of truth — such as being con­cerned about hap­pi­ness, and suf­fer­ing and the con­se­quences of our actions — that should be gleaned”. But why should I be con­cerned about hap­pi­ness, suf­fer­ing or the con­se­quences of my actions? Doesn’t this itself pre­sup­pose some higher moral order which Util­i­tar­i­an­ism attempts to cor­re­spond to? Or when we talk about the ‘greater good’ of soci­ety, we only push the prob­lem back one step while now talk­ing about some abstract idea — ‘soci­ety’ — instead of peo­ple on an indi­vid­ual basis in spe­cific cir­cum­stances. Unless I have given these terms (“hap­pi­ness,” “suf­fer­ing,” etc.) some sort of author­ity in my think­ing, they are mean­ing­less to me. Isn’t that the whole point of the exer­cise, my being a moral agent able to weigh deci­sions accordingly?

Ethics (moral­ity) is then reduced to a series of “is” or “should” state­ments, rather than “ought” state­ments. Play­ing make-believe is fun for a lit­tle while, but I’m not that imaginative.

Related posts:

  1. Frus­tra­tion

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