Exotic Journeys: A Tourist's Guide to Philosophy

brought to you by Ron Yezzi

Emeritus Professor of Philosophy

Minnesota State University, Mankato

(Author's Note: The account below, with slight modifications, is taken from Ron Yezzi, Philosophical Problems: The Good Life (Mankato: G. Bruno & Co., 1994), pp.44-69.)

Topics

Plato

Reason and The Good

Forms and the Form of The Good

The Good Life Without the Form of The Good

Controversies: Objections and Possible Replies

Thought Exercises

Sources

The Good Life:

Rationalism

Plato, Aristotle, and Kant

Most philosophers are noted for their reverence of reason; so the existence of rationalism as a view of the good life is hardly surprising. Rationalists maintain that the good life consists in a life of reason. Although there are certainly major differences among rationalists, there are also two fundamental theses they all agree upon:

(1) Reason constitutes the single, most important differentiating faculty of human beings, in comparison with other earthly creatures; and

(2) Of all the creatures on earth, only human beings possess, and reflect upon, moral concerns and only human beings are held morally responsible for their actions.

Upon conjoining these two theses, rationalists conclude that reason and right moral action are inseparable. That is to say, they conclude that the faculty that sets us apart from other creatures is precisely the faculty that makes possible, and should direct, our unique ability to function as moral beings.

We do not consider the positions of every rationalist here, although we briefly consider the good life as conceived by three of the most important philosophers (and rationalists) in the history of Western civilization—namely, Plato, Aristotle, and Immanuel Kant.

Plato

Biographical Sketch

Plato (427 - 347 B.C.E.), the most widely read and perhaps most lastingly influential philosopher in the history of Western civilization, was born in Athens, of aristocratic parents. About 407, he came under the influence of Socrates (469 - 399 B.C.E), the ever-inquiring, self-proclaimed "gadfly of the state"―celebrated in Plato's dialogue the Phaedo with these words, "Of all the men of his time whom I have known, he was the wisest and justest and best."

Apparently, Plato had political aspirations in his youth, although he became disillusioned-particularly after Socrates was condemned to death in 399 by the Athenian democracy of that period. Except for some misadventures in Sicily, where Plato tried to introduce rulers there to more technical philosophical thinking, Plato lived the life of a scholar and educator. After Socrates' death, he did some traveling and wrote some philosophical dialogues with Socrates as the main speaker.

In 388, he founded the Academy, an influential center of learning until it was closed in 529 A.D. Plato continued to write philosophical dialogues―of growing scope, subtlety, and complexity. In addition to their great philosophic merit, the dialogues are often great works of literature as well and are engagingly imaginative―all of which combined to produce some richly diverse interpretations of what Plato meant. Our firsthand knowledge of his philosophy rests upon thirty or so dialogues (the exact number not being known because of some disputes over authorship) and several letters. The presentation of Plato's philosophy here is based upon his most famous work, The Republic.

Reason and The Good

According to Plato, we cannot grasp what The Good is, unless we submit to lengthy, rigorous training in the ability to reason. Even then, we have no guarantee of success.

In The Republic, a dialogue where Plato lays out a theory of the ideal state,¹ the training of a philosopher-ruler requires some thirty years of special preparation, from age 20 to age 50, of the most talented, most dedicated, most incorruptible young persons in the state. Of the thirty years, the first ten should be devoted to the study of mathematics and science and the next five years to philosophy. By this time, hopefully, the trainee will grasp what The Good is. As a start in understanding Plato's view of the good life then, we should note this requirement that fifteen years be devoted to training in the use of reason.

Without a well-developed ability to reason, we cannot escape the common sense ways of interpeting the world—that distort reality, according to Plato. More particularly, we cannot recognize that reality, in its fullest sense, resides in Forms, or Ideas, that exist independently of the physical world.

Forms and the Form of The Good

For Plato, the objects in the physical world are imitations of, or approximations to, Forms that are unchanging and exist of themselves. For example, the physical chairs we see around us are able to be what they are because they imitate the Form, Chairness; and while any particular physical chair may come into existence (that is, be made) or cease to exist (that is, be destroyed), Chairness, the Form itself, is always in existence. Likewise, and more importantly, the just person is someone who imitates (or better, participates in) the Forms Justice and Humanness.

Of these Forms, the highest and most important is The Good. The greater our grasp of The Good, the greater our ability to understand the meaning of life and to make proper judgments about right and wrong. To give a glimpse, by analogy, of Its significance, Plato likens The Good to the sun and asserts that The Good is to the intelligible world of the Forms as the sun is to our physical world,

The Good = sun

intelligible world physical world

According to a passage from The Republic,

. . . in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.²

Therefore, for Plato, the good life consists in striving to apprehend The Good and to utilize It in directing human actions.

Plato is well aware that most people will be skeptical about existence of these Forms and of their influence upon the physical world. Most people are like prisoners in a cave who, having witnessed nothing but shadows all their lives, mistake the shadows for reality and are ignorant of anything that exists outside the cave. That is precisely why a developed ability to reason, acquired through continued effort, is necessary. Without the ability to think abstractly, a person cannot escape the imprisonment of the senses in order to recognize the Forms that constitute reality in the fullest sense.

The Good Life Without the Form of The Good

Since the overwhelming majority of people lack the talent, dedication, and good fortune to ever grasp The Good, Plato presents us with a vision of the good life that exists for the few, but not the many. (Indeed Plato would even object to presentation of his position here, because readers will not be properly prepared in the use of reason to grasp the truth of the Forms, much less The Good.) Consequently, we have a problem. If only a few people can grasp The Good, what is the good life for everyone else? First, Plato would reply that whatever talents anyone has, by which to understand The Good, should be developed; secondly, the virtues of wisdom, temperance, courage, and justice, both within the person and within the society, should be cultivated. In a well-ordered, well-guided society, numerous opportunities exist to bring appetitive desires under proper control (temperance), to develop character as well as a spirit of determination and enthusiasm (courage), and to perform one's proper functions both for one's personal well-being and also that of the state (justice). Hence, although only a few achieve the good life in its fullest sense, everyone has a moral goal to pursue in one's actions.

Controversies: Some Objections and Possible Replies

(Note About Objections and Possible Replies: You should look upon the objections and possible replies as opportunities for further thought rather than as definitive statements. Holders of the original position are not likely to be overwhelmed by the objections; and critics of the original position are not likely to be convinced by the possible replies. These objections and possible replies accomplish a proper goal if they push you to think more deeply about an issue, leading you to seek more clarity and justification in drawing your own conclusions.)

Contra Plato

The Forms, including the Form of The Good, do not exist; consequently his position is unsound. Even if the Form of The Good existed, so few persons would understand It that the great majority of human beings would be closed off from any clear understanding of the good life and would be forced to follow the lead of the elite few possessing superior ethical wisdom.

A Possible Reply: Before rejecting the existence of Forms, a person needs to be sufficiently adept in the use of reason to make a sound judgment. How many persons rejecting their existence can claim such adeptness? Actually, the existence of Forms is plausible enough. People often talk about discovering laws of nature. Why cannot a mathematical relationship, such as the Law of Universal Gravitation, F = G m m'/ r², be regarded as a Form to which bodies in motion throughout the universe conform?

The inability of most people to grasp the Form of The Good should not surprise anyone. Most people cannot grasp the theory of relativity; but we do not conclude therefore that we must cast the theory aside. Ethics, just as any other branch of knowledge, requires expertise; and not everyone will be able to master every subject. Plato certainly favors development of whatever talents a person has to grasp The Good. Furthermore, a good society cultivates the virtues of wisdom, temperance, courage, and justice so that everybody has moral goals to pursue. If Plato's position is “elitist,” it is not so in any harmful sense. He wants the best persons to hold the positions of highest responsibility in the state.

Thought Excursions

3.51 If you do not accept the existence of Forms, from Plato's account, how do you know that you are not like the prisoners in the cave? In particular, if you base your judgments upon what you have experienced in life so far, can you escape being just like the prisoners?

3.511 Can The Good be realistic as the ultimate goal for human beings—if so few of us are really talented enough, dedicated enough, and fortunate enough to grasp what It is? Be sure to consider Plato's likely reply in your answer. Would most people be willing to accept the claim that they are incapable of really knowing what is the greatest good in life but that a select few are capable?

Sources

Footnotes

1. It is not however a state that he expects to find established anywhere in the world.

2. B. Jowett, tr., The Dialogues of Plato (New York: Random House, 1937), Vol. I, p. 776.

Aristotle

Topics

Identification of Good with Functioning Well

Intellectual Virtues

Moral Virtues

Contemplation

Practicality

Prospects for Virtue

Controversies: Some Objections and Possible Replies

Thought Excursions

Sources

Biographical Sketch

Aristotle (384 - 322 B.C.E) was born in Stagira, in northern Greece. His father was a physician at the Macedonian court. In 367, be traveled to Athens to study and do research at Plato's Academy. His personal relationship with Plato is not clear, although Aristotle remained at the Academy until Plato's death in 347. After leaving Athens, he is known to have engaged in extensive biological research. At the request of Phillip of Macedon, he returned there for several years to tutor the king's teenage son, later to become known as Alexander the Great. There is no firm evidence to indicate that Aristotle had any special influence upon Alexander. About 335, Aristotle returned to Athens to establish his own school, the Lyceum. After Alexander's death in 323, he left Athens, in some fear for his life, because of his past association with Macedonian interests.

He produced wide-ranging philosophical works dealing with logic, metaphysics, ethics, politics, rhetoric, natural sciences, mathematics, psychology, and the arts. (His writings were impressive enough for the thirteenth century philosopher Thomas Aquinas to refer to him as "The Philosopher.") His writings, generally regarded by scholars to be collections of lecture notes, lack literary style and are often painstakingly intricate―although there is little doubt about their high philosophical quality and importance. The presentation of Aristotle's position here is taken from the Nicomachean Ethics and the Politics.

Although Aristotle studied for twenty years at Plato's school, the Academy, beginning there at the age of seventeen, he eventually rejected the theory of Forms. Like Plato though, he insisted upon reason as a prerequisite for knowing and living a good life.

According to Aristotle, happiness is the general goal of the good life. More specifically, the good life consists in activity in accordance with virtue. To act virtuously however, we must either exercise our ability to reason, the exhibition of intellectual virtue or we must obey a rational principle, the exhibition of moral virtue. So reason is fundamental.

Identification of Good with Functioning Well

How does this relation between reason, virtue, and the good life arise? Aristotle begins by considering the meaning of the term good, in particular, its association with functioning well. (Aristotle does not dwell upon the reasons why we should determine what good is in this way; but he does point out that the association of “good” with “functioning well” is quite common in our experience and he is confident that further experience will show whether or not the association is correct.)

We have a good carpenter when someone performs well the functions of carpentry, and we have a good violinist when someone performs well the function of playing a violin. Accordingly, we should have a good human being when someone performs well the functions of a human being. The task then of determining what the good is then becomes one of establishing the special function(s) of a human being.

When he examines these functions, Aristotle fixes upon reason as the single, differentiating function that sets human beings apart from other living things and thereby concludes that a good human being is one who uses reason well. Thus human beings live a good life by achieving self-realization, that is, by actualizing their potential to reason well—a process related to both intellectual virtue (exercising the ability to reason) and moral virtue (obeying a rational principle).

Intellectual Virtues

Intellectual virtues, in so far as they consist in exercising reason, include, for example, scientific knowledge and philosophic wisdom. For Aristotle, we are acting virtuously when we use reason to acquire knowledge. Although this claim may seem somewhat strange to most people today, it was a frequent theme in ancient Greek philosophy and the claim is not dead today. There are five intellectual virtues, as the boxed in list shows. Aristotle awards philosophic wisdom the highest place because it deals with what is necessarily true, never changes, and is most “divine.”

Intellectual Virtues¹

Scientific Knowledge—a state of capacity to demonstrate through syllogisms, for example,

All human beings are rational animals

All Greeks are human beings

All Greeks are rational animals

Art—a state of capacity to make, involving a true course of reasoning, for example, being a good architect

Practical wisdom—a true and reasoned state of capacity to act with respect to what is good or bad for human beings

Intuitive Reason—a state of capacity to grasp the truth of first principles, for example, that all human beings are rational animals

Philosophic Wisdom—scientific knowledge combined with intuitive reason of the things that are “highest” by nature, for example, God's existence.

Moral Virtues

Moral virtues include courage, proper pride, liberality, and temperance among others. Each lies in a mean between two extremes, a vice of excess and a vice of defect. For example, courage lies between rashness and cowardice. See the boxed in section for a representative, but still incomplete, list of moral virtues.

Moral Virtues²

Virtue As a Mean and the Need for Practical Wisdom

Note that virtue lies in a mean for each feeling or action. Where the mean lies can vary with the circumstances of the situation—that is, the mean does not always lie precisely in the middle between the extremes. For example, good-temper may require that we lean toward irascibility in some cases, and extreme mildness in others. So, on the one hand, we may be quite mild toward an elderly woman who carelessly causes an auto accident and is obviously emotionally upset; on the other hand, we may act irascibly toward a twenty-year old college student who aggressively runs a stop sign and then becomes belligerent about taking blame for the subsequent accident. In any situation, there is one best way to act. To know what this one best way is, however—in other words, to know precisely where the mean lies—requires a rational principle, that is, a principle determined by reasoning. According to Aristotle, this rational principle should be the one that persons of practical wisdom use. Aristotle presumes that some persons of practical wisdom usually exist and that we can recognize them. (See the definition of practical wisdom among the intellectual virtues.) It is the mark of persons of practical wisdom that they make the right decision in the right place at the right time, for the right reason, and with the right character. Note that it is not enough to make the right decision. One also must do it for the right reason and with the right character in order to exhibit practical wisdom and act virtuously. Thus, for example, the person who is temperate out of fear of what other people will say is acting rightly, but not virtuously.

Since persons of practical wisdom are able to make judgments in many different situations, they must have a considerable amount of experience first. For this reason, Aristotle is skeptical about claims to practical wisdom by young people—although he grants that experience is not simply a matter of age. So he does not assert that an older person is always more experienced than a younger one. When it comes to matters of sound judgment, Aristotle prefers middle age.

Simply Wrongful Actions

Although moral virtue lies as a mean between extremes, there is not a mean for every action because some actions are simply wrong. Aristotle says,

But it is not all actions nor all passion that admit of moderation; there are some whose very names imply badness, as malevolence shamelessness, envy, and, among acts, adultery, theft, murder. These and all other like things are blamed as being bad in themselves, and not merely in their excess or deficiency. It is impossible therefore to go right in them; they are always wrong: rightness or wrongness in such things (e.g. in adultery) does not depend upon whether it is the right person and occasion and manner, but the mere doing of of any one of them is wrong.³

Contemplation

A life in accordance with moral virtue is quite appropriate to the human condition, since we are so often concerned with emotions and actions. For Aristotle however, the most satisfactory life comes through contemplation. Human beings are too variable and imperfect for the highest virtue to be achieved in dealing with human emotions and actions. Of contemplation, he says,

. . . exercise of [this] faculty must be the highest possible; for reason is the highest of our faculties, and of all knowable things those that reason deals with are the highest.

Again it is the most continuous, for speculation [contemplation] can be carried on more continuously than than any kind of action whatsoever.

We think too that pleasure ought to be one of the ingredients of happiness; but of all virtuous exercises, it is allowed that the pleasantest is the exercise of wisdom. At least philosophy is thought to have pleasures that are admirable in purity and steadfastness; and it is reasonable to suppose that the time passes more pleasantly with those who possess, than with those who are seeking knowledge.

Again what is called self-sufficiency will be most of all found in the contemplative life. The necessaries of life, indeed, are needed by the wise man as well as by the just man and the rest; but, when these have been provided in due quantity, the just man further needs persons towards whom, and along with whom, he may act justly; and so does the temperate and the courageous man, and the rest; while the wise man is able to contemplate even by himself, and the wiser he is the more he is able to do this. He could contemplate better, we may confess, if he had others to help him, but nevertheless he is more self-sufficient than anybody else. Again, it would seem that this life alone is desired solely for its own sake; for it yields no result beyond the the contemplation, but from the practical activities we get something more or less besides action.

Again, happiness is thought to imply leisure; for we toil in order that we may have leisure, as we make war in order that we may enjoy peace. . . .

If, then, the life of the statesman and the soldier, though they surpass all other virtuous exercises in nobility and grandeur, are not leisurely occupations, and aim at some ulterior end, and are not desired merely for themselves, but the exercise of the reason seems to be superior in seriousness (since it contemplates truth), and to aim at no end beside itself, and to have its proper pleasure (which also helps to increase the exercise), and further to be self-sufficient, and leisurely, and inexhaustible (as far as anything human can be), and to have all the other characteristics that are ascribed to happiness, it follows that the exercise of reason will be the complete happiness of man, i.e., when a complete term of days is added; for nothing incomplete can be admitted into our idea of happiness.⁴

According to Aristotle, we associate a supremely happy person with nobility, greatness, self-sufficiency, and leisureliness. But what can be more noble or greater than contemplation of the highest truths? What can be greater or more noble or more self-sufficient than knowledge loved for itself, apart from the practical uses to which it may be put? What can be more self-sufficient than contemplation, which we can engage in even while alone? And what can be a more leisurely activity than the pursuit knowledge? By these measures, intellectual virtue is superior to moral virtue.

Practicality

This stress on intellectual virtue should not blind us however to the practical side of Aristotle's position, which includes a wealth of commonsense wisdom:

(a) His insistence upon moral virtue as a mean between extremes leads to rejection of extreme asceticism and self-effacement—regardless whether they occur as insensibility, undue humility, inirascibility, modesty, or bashfulness.

(b) Where the mean lies varies to some degree with particular circumstances. And some actions are simply wrong without there being a mean for them.

(c) Moral virtues do not spring up within us suddenly or through study; rather they develop gradually through the formation of good habits of action.

(d) For an action to be truly virtuous, it must be done with the right character and for the right reason.

(e) Living well stands in need of both friendship and justice.

(f) We cannot be completely happy without some amount of good fortune—such as prosperity, physical attractiveness, friends, birth into a good family, and good children.

(g) Happiness is achieved in a complete life, not in a day or a short period.

(h) Since we cannot work continuously, we need relaxation and we get it through pleasant amusements.

(i) The good person seeks out the right pleasures, whereas the bad person seeks out the wrong ones.

(j) And he insists that it is foolish to expect the same certainty in ethics that is achievable in mathematics.

Prospects for Virtue

Regarding the prospects for everyone's becoming virtuous, Aristotle says,

Now, if theories had powers of themselves to make us good, “many great rewards would they deserve” as Theognis says, and such ought we to give; but in fact it seems that though they are potent to guide and to stimulate liberal-minded young men, and though a generous disposition, with a sincere love of what is noble, may by them be opened to the influence of virtue, yet they are powerless to turn the mass of men to goodness. For the generality of men are naturally apt to be swayed by fear rather than by reverence, and to refrain from evil rather because of the punishment that it brings than because of its own foulness. For under the guidance of their passions they pursue the pleasures that suit their nature and the means by which those pleasures may be obtained, and avoid the opposite pains, while of that which is noble and truly pleasant they have not even a conception, as they have never tasted it.

What theories or arguments, then, can bring such men as these to order? Surely it is impossible, or at least very difficult, to remove by any argument what has long been ingrained in the character. For my part, I think we must be well content if we can get some modicum of virtue when all the circumstances are present that seem to make men good.⁵

Besides commenting upon the human capacity for virtue, the passage also is somewhat pessimistic about the effectiveness of ethical theories or arguments. Given this situation of human imperfection, a society—in Aristotle's view—needs good laws that habituate its members to act rightly when possible and force them to act rightly when necessary.

Controversies: Some Objections and Possible Replies

Contra Aristotle

Aside from charges that Aristotle's ethics is overly genteel and therefore best suited for stodgy, well-off members of society, critics assert that he has not really established, with evidence, why good is associated with the special function of a human being and, in particular, with reasoning. Why can't “being religious,” for example, be the special function of a human being? Some critics also find difficulties with the person of practical wisdom. How can we determine who these persons are? And if we use them as models to imitate in doing right actions, do we not need to know the right actions already in order to identify the persons of practical wisdom—in which case we do not need to imitate them once we already know the right actions?

A Possible Reply: The initial attempt to determine what good is by examining the special function of a human being rests upon the common association of “good” with function. This is a reasonable first-step based upon common experience. Ultimately however, the success of the attempt needs to be judged in terms of its fruitfulness in developing an adequate ethical position, bearing in mind that the certainty of mathematics is unattainable in ethics. Aristotle's ethics, taken as a whole, is a tribute to the success of this association of good with function. Moreover, reason proves to be the special function of a human being (rather than being religious or having a sense of humor) because it is an essential, differentiating characteristic. Someone can be human without being religious or having a sense of humor, but not without being rational (although much of that rationality may be undeveloped).

Regarding persons of practical wisdom, identification is not a problem in a well-ordered society, that is, one organized to serve the common welfare. In such a society, those in positions of influence and authority are persons of practical wisdom; and they oversee the upbringing and education of the youth so that the latter may develop into morally virtuous persons through cultivation of the habit of acting rightly. If a society is not well-ordered however, that is, if everyone pursues selfish interests, then identification and recognition of persons of practical wisdom becomes a serious problem. From Aristotle's standpoint, the lesson then is quite clear—we ought to do all we can to insure the existence of a well-ordered society.

Perhaps Aristotle's conception of a virtuous person shows little appreciation for the flamboyant, eccentric genius and offers little hope to the person in grinding poverty. For Aristotle though, poverty is a misfortune that necessarily detracts from the potential for happiness; it also causes unwanted social unrest. So Aristotle at least makes a good case for the elimination of poverty in a society. Moreover, when we consider the “flamboyant, eccentric genius,” we can all question the degree to which such an individual should be set up as a model of virtue in a society. We can also question the alleged “stodginess” of Aristotle's virtuous person. We must remember that the mean varies somewhat with circumstances, that pleasant amusements are allowable, and that temperance, liberality, ready-wit, and friendliness are considered superior to insensibility, stinginess, boorishness, and surliness, respectively.

Thought Excursions

3.521 Go over the list of Aristotle's moral virtues. Would you strive to achieve these virtues and avoid the extremes in your own life? Would you disagree with any of Aristotle's virtues or vices? Do you think that you already exemplify these virtues and that talk about them is superfluous?

3.522 Does Aristotle's preference for contemplation make sense to you? How would you evaluate the "practicality" listing, (a) through (i) for Aristotle's view of the good life?

3.523 Aristotle is rather pessimistic about the prospects for making everyone virtuous? Do you agree with him? From what you know, which philosophers, if any, are satisfied with the ability and desire of the overwhelming majority of people to act in morally correct ways? Do the views of philosophers on this point make you more, or less, optimistic about human beings? About philosophers?

Sources

Footnotes

1. For an account of these intellectual virtues, see F. H. Peters, tr., The Nicomachean Ethics of Aristotle (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., 1909), Bk. VI.

2. For an account of moral virtues, see Aristotle, ibid., Bk. III ch. 6 - Bk. V.

3. Ibid., p. 47.

4. Ibid., pp. 338-340. In the quoted passage, I substituted “contemplation” for “speculation.”

5. Ibid., pp. 346-347.

Kant

Topics

Need for A Moral Law

Acting from a Sense of Duty

The Moral Law, or Categorical Imperative

Capital Punishment

Controversies: Some Objections and Possible Replies

Thought Exercises

Deontological and Teleological Ethics

Infinite Worth and Preservation of Human Life

Rationalism and Character Development

Sources

Biographical Sketch

Immanuel Kant (1724 - 1804 C.E.) was born in Koenigsberg, East Prussia, of working class parents. (His father was a skilled saddle-maker.) After study at the University of Koenigsberg, he served as a private tutor for about eight years, until 1755 when he became a lecturer at the University. He was a lecturer and professor there until 1796.

Kant was the first major philosopher in modern times to make a living as a university professor. As an instructor, he had a reputation for presenting lively, humorous lectures (qualities not especially evident in his writings). He led a regular, uneventful, scholarly life. (Supposedly, the people of Koenigsberg could set their clocks by the time Kant set out for his daily walk.) Although he was a professor at a relatively undistinguished university in a provincial town and never traveled beyond the boundaries of East Prussia, Kant became one of the most important philosophers in the history of Western civilization.

In 1781, at the age of fifty-seven, he published the Critique of Pure Reason, a work of great originality and technical precision that tried to lay out the nature and limits of theoretical reason. Kant proclaimed his position a "Copernican revolution in philosophy"―and its philosophical influence has indeed been that significant. His originality and technical precision are also evident in his ethical writings that came later, the best known works being the Critique of Practical Reason and the Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals. His work in ethics has also been enormously influential.

For Immanuel Kant, another rationalist, the good life consists in (1) obeying the moral law, or categorical imperative, and (2) doing so from a sense of duty.

Need for A Moral Law

According to Kant, genuine morality is impossible without a moral law—that is, a principle that commands rational beings universally (without exception) and necessarily (without the possibility of error). Without a moral law, different persons judge right and wrong differently according to their particular circumstances—thereby creating a situation where a discussion of any common morality is impossible because values become relative to anyone's personal, or subjective, judgment.

The escape from this relativity, the recognition that there must be a moral law, the understanding of what the moral law is, and its application are all activities that depend upon reason. More precisely, it is reason, not our inclinations (namely, our appetites, desires, and emotions), that make these activities possible. Stated differently, Kant maintains that the proper function of reason, which distinguishes human beings from other earthly beings, must be to produce a good will, that is, a being who wills actions in accordance with, and for the sake of, the moral law.

Acting from a Sense of Duty

In obeying the moral law, our actions have moral worth only when we act out of respect for the law itself, according to Kant. In other words, for actions to have moral worth, we must obey the moral law because of the requirements of duty, and not because of any personal inclinations. For example, we should treat others honestly because duty requires this, and not because we gain some personal advantages by so acting. Thus no moral worth accrues to the business person who treats customers fairly out of the conviction that such treatment is the best business practice in the long run. Although this person acts in accordance with the moral law, the person is not acting from a sense of duty but rather is trying to protect and assure profits.

The Moral Law, or Categorical Imperative

What is this moral law, or categorical imperative? According to Kant: We should always act so that the rule governing our action can be willed as a universal law for all rational beings. The following example aptly illustrates his use of the categorical imperative:

Another finds himself forced by necessity to borrow money. He knows that he will not be able to repay it, but sees also that nothing will be lent to him, unless he promises stoutly to repay it in a definite time. He desires to make this promise, but he has still so much conscience as to ask himself: Is it not unlawful and inconsistent with duty to get out of a difficulty this way? Suppose, however, that he resolves to do so, then the maxim of his action would be expressed thus: “When I think myself in want of money, I will borrow money and promise to repay it, although I know that I never can do so. Now this principle of self-love or of one's own advantage may perhaps be consistent with my whole future welfare; but the question now is, Is it right? I change then the suggestion of self-love into a universal law and state the question thus: How would it be if my maxim were a universal law? Then I see at once that it could never hold as a universal law of nature, but would necessarily contradict itself. For supposing it to be a universal law that everyone when he thinks himself in a difficulty should be able to promise whatever he pleases, with the purpose of not keeping his promise, the promise itself would become impossible, as well as the end that one might have in view in it, since no one would consider that anything was promised to him, but would ridicule all such statements as vain pretences.¹

A lying promise cannot be willed as a universal law because it is a contradiction and therefore meaningless. Promising sets up an obligation to act in a certain way; but the lying negates the obligation. As further examples of using the categorical imperative, Kant discusses the obligation to develop our talents and to help others in need as well as the obligation not to commit suicide. He is convinced that this single moral law is sufficient to guide our actions and that reason assures its unambiguous application in the varied affairs of life.

Treating Human Beings as Ends, Not Means

Kant also offers an alternate statement of the categorical imperative—one that emphasizes the infinite moral worth of each human being and forbids the exploitation of one human being by another: Always treat rational beings, whether yourself or others, as ends-in-themselves and never merely as a means to serve some other purpose.

This alternate statement has attracted a good deal of attention in the present day because of the frequent attribution of moral wrongs to exploitation. We exploit other persons when we use them as means to serve some purpose without consideration of their best interests. For example, the insurance salesperson who preys upon the fears of the elderly to sell them unneeded insurance is exploitative. Exploitation is a serious problem; but its meaning requires careful consideration. Thus actions to mutual advantage, it should be noted, need not be exploitative since they may take into account the best interests of everyone involved. (Actions to mutual advantage however have questionable moral worth since, as we saw earlier, Kant regards only actions willed for the sake of duty to have moral worth.) Note also that the alternate statement of the categorical imperative asserts that it is possible to exploit oneself. Forgoing reason in order to submit to our inclinations constitutes self-exploitation. For example, committing suicide is forbidden because we thereby deny our infinite worth in ending our life out of a desire to end our misery. We cannot use ourselves as a means in this way.

Application of the Moral Law

The moral worth of acts in accordance with the categorical imperative must be judged entirely with respect to the motive, or intention of an act, and not with respect to its consequences, according to Kant. He thinks that concern with consequences leads to a relativity of values—and hence a breakdown of morality—because everyone can judge consequences differently. This stress on intentions can lead to judgments quite alien to some common ways of thinking.

Consider the following example: Someone comes up to you, gun in hand, and asks, “Where did your brother go?” From Kant's standpoint of the categorical imperative, you cannot consider the consequences for your brother if you tell the truth. Instead, if the person expects you to tell the truth, then you are morally obligated because no rational person can will lying as a universal law—that is, since lying is contrary to what we mean by communication, no rational person can willingly communicate a lie and still obey the categorical imperative. Of course, having settled this first moral question, whether you should lie or not, you then must turn to a second one—whether or not you should stop this person from killing your brother—and must apply the categorical imperative again. So you cannot simply tell the truth and then turn away with no further concern. If Kant's analysis here goes against our normal inclinations, he would reply that reason, not inclinations, must be the basis for morality—in order to assure the existence of a moral law. We should also remember that we often do associate higher moral worth with a good intention. For example, we usually have greater moral respect for the politician who votes out of a sense of principle than we usually have for one who votes out of expediency in order to be reelected. Thus Kant's analysis is not as far-fetched as it first may seem.

Looking at the gun example a little differently, we can say that lying here would involve treating the person as a means rather than as an end. In other words, by lying, you would be treating the person as a means to save your brother's life. According to the alternative statement of the categorical imperative however, you are obligated to treat other rational beings as ends-in-themselves rather than as means to serve some other purpose. By lying, you would be exploiting this other person. But would you then exploit your brother by telling the truth? No, because what might consequentially happen to your brother is not the question-at-issue. The moral issue is, Should you lie to this person or not? As we can see, Kant applies the rule against exploitation in a rigorous, unrelenting way. He associates a dignity and infinite worth with every human being because the faculty of reason permits action according to the conception of moral laws—actions beyond the capability of other earthly creatures. Only rational beings can be moral. Therefore human beings do not ever forfeit their dignity and infinite worth no matter how desperate their circumstances or how despicable their actions. So we cannot justify exploiting them for any reason.

Capital Punishment

Given this infinite worth, we may easily conclude that no taking of life for any reason could ever be morally justified. Kant, however, disagrees. Consider the following statement about capital punishment:

If, however, he has committed a murder, he must die. In this case, there is no substitute that will satisfy the requirements of legal justice. There is no sameness of kind between death and remaining alive even under the most miserable conditions, and consequently there is also no equality between the crime and the retribution unless the criminal is judically condemned and put to death. But the death of the criminal must be kept entirely free of any maltreatment that would make an abomination of the humanity residing in the person suffering it. Even if a civil society were to dissolve itself by common agreement of all its members (for example, if the people inhabiting an island decided to separate and disperse themselves around the world), the last murderer remaining in prison must first be executed, so that the bloodguilt thereof will not be fixed on the people because they failed to insist on carrying out the punishment; for if they fail to do so, they may be regarded as accomplices in this public violation of legal justice.²

For Kant, the execution is a just act of retribution that does not deny the murderer's infinite worth. Vengeful maltreatment such as torture however would not be justifiable because it “would make an abomination of the humanity residing in the person suffering it.” Execution solely as a means of deterring others from committing murder (a justification often given for capital punishment in our own time) is also a denial of the murderer's infinite worth. In such a case, we are exploiting one human being as a means of benefiting others.

Controversies: Some Objections and Possible Replies

Contra Kant

Although many critics admire Kant's analysis of the role of intention and duty in moral actions, they refuse to accept the total elimination of consequences in determining moral worth; and they assert that a common morality is still possible when consequences are taken into account. Other critics commonly regard the categorical imperative to be too general a principle upon which to base all morality, because different rational beings can interpret and apply the principle in different ways. For example, they may argue that a rational person can conclude that lying can be willed as a universal law for everyone in some sets of circumstances—as in the case of lying when someone with a gun asks, “Where did your brother go?”

A Possible Reply: Morality cannot be based upon conditions of experience, since these personal or cultural conditions are variable. Consequences vary with time and circumstance; they may be short-term or long-range; and they vary for different persons. For a genuine, common morality to be possible, it must rest upon the demands of reason alone, apart from the conditions of experience—so that there can be a moral law, that is, a principle that commands universally and necessarily.

For similar reasons, we must reject attempts to interpret the categorical imperative so that lying is morally acceptable in some circumstances. On the basis of reason alone, we can determine that lying contradicts the meaning of communication itself; consequently, we cannot will it as a universal law (even if a brother's life is threatened). This interpretation of the categorical imperative with respect to lying is rationally clear and unambiguous.

Thought Excursions

Deontological and Teleological Ethics

More so than his philosophical predecessors, Immanuel Kant drew a sharp line between doing an act because it is right and doing it because it produces good consequences. The sharpness of his line has led to a standard distinction in contemporary ethics. Doing actions because they are right, as a matter of duty, is commonly referred to as deontological ethics; doing actions because they produce good consequences is commonly referred to as teleological ethics. (Don't be put off by the technical, philosophical terms here, because the distinction is important in practical life.)

Deontologists examine actions to determine what our duties, or obligations, are; for example, Kant determines that lying is contrary to our duty because it violates the moral law. Once the demands of duty are clear, for Kant, consequences are irrelevant. Teleologists, on the other hand, examine actions to determine what produces the most significant value as a consequence; for example, John Stuart Mill determines that lying is wrong because it produces more pain than pleasure for all those involved in the action. For teleologists, obligations are means to attain what has significant value; for deontologists, obligations are simply demands for right action, not means to produce value.

Perhaps we can make the distinction clear by considering how Kant and Mill might deal with a particular problem.

Problem: Police authorities have determined that a terrorist group plans to explode a bomb in a crowded area of a large city; but they have not determined the exact time or place. Time may be running out. They do have in custody however a member of the terrorist group who very likely knows the details of the plan. (For our purposes, assume that the likelihood of the group's plan and the member's knowledge is very high.) During some sixteen hours of hard questioning, the terrorist continually refuses to give any information about the bomb. At that point, are the police authorities morally justified in resorting to torture to get the information?

What considerations are morally relevant for Mill? First, whether or not the torture is justified depends upon whether it produces more pleasure or pain for all those who might be affected by the action. Torture will cause pain for the terrorist. But this must be weighed against the much greater amount of pain—measured in terms of death, injury, and distress to victims of terrorism, along with the distress to their friends and relatives—to be avoided if the bomb does not go off. Moreover, avoidance of the fear engendered in people generally by successful, indiscriminate acts of terrorism is relevant. At this point, the torture seems justified.

Yet there are other considerations. Torture in a society tends to get out of hand. Voluminous evidence exists in societies throughout the world showing that acceptance of torture frequently leads to especially cruel treatment of persons in custody of authorities, quite irrespective of their innocence or degree of guilt. Furthermore, such cruel treatment produces enormous fear, and hence pain, among all those members of a society who realize that they may be indiscriminately chosen as the next victims for torture. Given this line of argument, a strong rule forbidding torture in a society is appropriate.

Could an exception to the rule be made in the case of this terrorist however? Mill allows for the possibility of exceptions. Yet exceptions need to be treated very carefully; in particular, an exception cannot become a precedent that destroys the rule. At the very least then, specific, careful restrictions on exceptions would be necessary to assure maintenance of the rule and of the greatest good for the greatest number of people. There must also be assurance that a society will reasonably abide by these restrictions. Thus, from Mill's standpoint, torture is not morally justifiable although we may be able to make an exception in this case of the terrorist—if we can establish careful restrictions and can rely on society to abide by the restrictions. Note that Mill would not simply assert that torture is morally wrong or that human beings have a fundamental right not to be tortured. If they have such a right, it must be because such a right maximizes pleasure and minimizes pain for the greatest number of people.

What considerations regarding torture are morally relevant for Kant? First, he would disregard all the consequences relied upon by Mill to make a judgment. In particular, he would disregard any deaths, injuries, or distress that may be caused by the bomb's exploding. Instead we must ask this question: In terms of the moral law, what are our duties regarding torture? To torture the terrorist merely as a means to get information to save others' lives is a denial of the person's infinite worth and is therefore contrary to the moral law. (Remember also that persons cannot forfeit this infinite worth, no matter how despicable their actions, according to Kant.) Given that getting information is the only reason given for considering torture in this example, our duty is clear: torturing the terrorist is not morally justified.

Of course, we may remind the terrorist that the moral law requires the rejection of indiscriminate acts of terrorism and hence requires a revealing of the relevant information about the bomb. We may even point out that if the bomb goes off and causes just one death, the proper penalty for the terrorist's complicity in the event is death by execution. We cannot, however, torture the terrorist—for we must do our duty out of respect for the moral law, regardless of the consequences.

Even if they both agreed that torturing the terrorist is morally wrong, we can see that Mill's teleological approach differs sharply from Kant's deontological approach.

Further Thought: Would different circumstances in any way alter the analysis of the positions of Mill and Kant? Deal with each circumstance individually: (1) Suppose that the terrorist frankly admits to having knowledge about the bomb, flaunts having the knowledge, but still refuses to give out the information; (2) Suppose that the bomb is a 20 kiloton nuclear weapon (that is, has the destructive capacity of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima); (3) Suppose that the terrorist group planted the bomb as a “last resort response” to deep, widespread oppression in the society.

So how would you deal with this torture issue?

3.531 Kant's morality leads to moral conclusions in some circumstances that seem strange to many people. Yet he would insist that the survival of a genuine, common morality requires a moral law, based upon pure reason rather than upon variable experience, and actions based upon duty rather than upon consequences. How would you evaluate his claims.

3.532 The discussion of torture in the section, Deontological and Teleological Ethics, includes the suggestion that John Stuart Mill would want specific, careful restrictions with respect to any exceptions to a general rule forbidding torture. What might these restrictions be? (Mill himself never discusses any example like the one in the text; so the list that follows is just a plausible one based upon his position.)

(1) Regarding torture generally:

a) It should only be considered for the purpose of gaining information;

b) It should not be considered unless there is a serious threat to human life or the threat of very serious injuries;

c) It should be considered only as a last resort, when other methods of gaining information have failed;

d) It should be considered only as a means of getting information about some specific threat, not as “a fishing expedition”; and

e) There must be considerable time pressure to get the information quickly.

(2) Regarding the person to be tortured:

a) There must be a very high probability that the person actually possesses the information sought;

b) The person must not be an innocent bystander who came across the information inadvertently;

c) The person should not suffer greater torture than that necessary to gain the information;

d) There should not be permanent physical or psychological damage; and

e) Medical assistance should be readily available.

(3) Regarding the person doing the torturing:

a) A screening process is necessary to eliminate sadists and other unsuitable persons; and

b) The person must be well-trained so that only the minimal amount of torture necessary to get the information is used.

(4) Regarding external controls:

a) Permission to torture must be granted by an unbiased, third party in a position of authority, such as a judge, who does not participate in, or benefit in any way from, the torture;

b) There must be public accountability for all those involved in the torture as soon as it is reasonably possible; and

c) There must be public review to make sure that any unacceptable incidents do not occur again.

How adequate do you think these restrictions would be in insuring that torture does not get out of hand? First consider the restrictions themselves. Then consider whether or not you would trust any society to abide by them. In dealing with the latter point, remember that we do not cast aside automatically all social arrangements that turn out to be imperfect. For example, we do not cast aside the criminal justice system even though we know that it sometimes leads to an innocent person being found guilty.

If you decide that no society can be trusted to abide by the restrictions, discuss the following position: Because of my distrust of society, torture should never be legally allowable—although there are rare circumstances where it is morally acceptable. In these circumstances, a public official should go ahead with the torture but then must make a personal sacrifice whereby one publicly accepts any punishment meted out by law for engaging in torture, no matter how stiff the penalties.

3.533 We frequently admonish others by saying, “What if everybody did that?” And we often speak highly of The Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.” Someone might argue that these are just two ways of talking about Kant's Categorical Imperative. What similarities or differences, if any, are there?

3.534 Critics of Kant's Categorical Imperative often object that it fails at times to lead to one clear, rational course of action demanded as a matter of duty. These critics may point to perplexing cases where, seemingly, the infinite worth of two human beings is at stake, although only one can be served. For example, there may be a house fire where you can save your spouse or your child, but not both; or a pregnancy where a choice must be made between the life of the fetus and the life of the mother. Suppose we consider the latter example. How may Kant resolve the problem? Here are some possibilities:

(a) The basis for granting dignity and infinite worth to human beings is the presence of rationality—because reason makes it possible to recognize, and act in accordance with, the moral law and to do so as a matter of duty. Since a fetus cannot reason, it lacks dignity and infinite worth. Hence duty requires that we save the mother.

(b) The fetus possesses dignity and infinite worth. But the life of the fetus is not the moral question-at-issue here. We face a situation where the life of the mother is threatened. In recognition of her infinite worth, we have a duty to take action to save her. If, as a consequence of this action, the fetus dies, then this is both tragic and unfortunate. No one intended the fetus' death; and no one intended any exploitation of the fetus. Once we recognize the moral question-at-issue, we conclude that duty requires that we save the mother.

(c) Both the fetus and the mother possess dignity and infinite worth. Hence we cannot sacrifice one for the sake of the other. Although it is unfortunate that these situations arise, our duty is clear; we must try to save both or neither.

(d) Both fetus and mother possess dignity and infinite worth. Hence we cannot sacrifice one for the sake of the other. Although it is unfortunate that these situations arise, our duty is clear; we must try to save both or neither. If, however, the mother chooses to sacrifice herself, then we can respect her wishes and save the fetus.

(e) Both the fetus and the mother possess dignity and infinite worth. However it is hardly in keeping with their infinite worth to let both die. Any random process, even flipping a coin, where each has an equal chance to be selected, protects their infinite worth at the same time that it makes possible the saving of a human life. Hence we have a duty to use random selection in deciding whether to save the mother or the fetus.

Which of these possibilities is demanded by Kant's categorical imperative? Can Kant accept more than one possibility? If so, give some explanation. If the categorical imperative leads to no clear-cut, rational solution in this situation, what implications (if any) follow for his moral theory as a whole? Is it a mistake to try to judge his moral theory on the basis of “hard cases” like this?

(A Consideration: Can Kant argue that there is one clear rational solution here in terms of the categorical imperative but that we may not be able to decide upon it because of our own rational shortcomings?)

3.535 Would Kant's position on capital punishment be applicable as well to killing in self-defense and to war, where there is a military response to aggression? Is his position on capital punishment consistent or inconsistent with his assertion that every human being has dignity and infinite worth? Do you agree with his justification for capital punishment?

3.5351 Suppose someone argues that execution is an easy, quick way out for a murderer and that life imprisonment is a better punishment because no one wants to live in prison the rest of one's life. What would Kant say about this? What would you say? According to Kant's ethical view, how do you think that a “lifer” in prison should be treated? Would such treatment have any bearing, from Kant's perspective again, upon the whether or not life imprisonment is a suitable punishment for murder?

3.536 Immanuel Kant exhibits some fundamental differences with Aristotle and John Stuart Mill. Whereas Aristotle thinks that you cannot arrive at certainty in ethics as you do in mathematics, so that seeking what is generally, or probably, the case is reasonable―Kant thinks that certainty is necessary if there is to be any genuine morality. Also, whereas Mill allows for exceptions to the moral rule against lying, Kant does not. What would say about these disagreements?

Infinite Worth and Preservation of Human Life

The assertion that every human being possesses infinite worth strikes a responsive chord with many people. In more common language, we often hear people say, “You can never put a price on a human life.”

But do we acknowledge infinite worth in practice?

For example, there are millions of starving human beings in the world; yet most of us, who are quite affluent, do little or nothing to provide for and insure their survival. We attach greater worth to ourselves, our relatives, our friends, our fellow citizens, and our wealth than we do to these starving people throughout the world. When we live our lives of affluence, we seem to be saying that it is better for us to be affluent than for some other people to live at all; so we let them starve. We certainly can help them survive—through adoption, through financial contributions toward their care and feeding, or through efforts to teach them how better to provide for themselves. If we really grant the infinite worth of every human being, should we not be obligated to use our efforts and financial resources beyond what is necessary for the bare means of subsistence to preserve the lives of starving people? If we do not so use our efforts and financial resources, are we not placing a price on human lives and thereby setting a finite worth on human beings?

Immanuel Kant never deals with the issue in the stark terms stated here. According to the moral law, we have a duty to use our surplus resources to aid other persons in need—this duty following from what it means to recognize fully the dignity, or infinite worth, of every human being. But Kant regards it as an imperfect duty. That is, if we act positively to fulfill our duty to aid others in need, then our action is worthy of moral merit; but if we fail to act, our action is not worthy of moral condemnation or criticism. An imperfect duty differs from a perfect duty, where failure to act in accordance with duty is worthy of moral condemnation or criticism. For example, keeping our promises is a perfect duty. Accordingly, in the realm of imperfect duty, we should not be condemned for failing to preserve the lives of starving people (presuming, of course, that we have taken no specific action, such as stealing their food, to cause the starvation).

This conclusion is questionable however.

First, an imperfect duty seems to be a duty that is not really a duty—setting up precisely the sort of situation that Kant regards to be destructive to the possibility of morality, namely, moral judgments varying according to the discretion of each individual's inclinations. To be sure, there would be a universal requirement of moral praise for the person who, out of respect for the moral law, makes sacrifices to help others in need. But whether, and to what extent, we should help others in need would be a matter of individual inclinations.

Secondly, it is questionable how withholding aid to starving people is consistent with their infinite worth—if we have surplus resources ourselves. If we fail to give aid, are we not placing our personal satisfaction and affluence above the worth of their lives? At this point, we may want to say that we have also a duty to respect our own infinite worth. Can we not respect this infinite worth through our own self-development? In Kant's terms though, self-development consists in obeying the moral law from a sense of duty and becoming a good will; if anything, personal satisfaction and affluence are hindrances to achieving these goals. Hence we do not escape the conclusion that failure to use surplus resources to aid starving people is a denial of their infinite worth.

Can we say that allowing starvation is not a denial of infinite worth because people deserve what happens in the same way that murderers deserve capital punishment, according to Kant? No, because of a fundamental difference in the situations. Whereas starvation usually occurs because of general conditions beyond the individual's control—such as crop failure, poor soil conditions, or warfare—murder is the specific, premeditated act of one person killing another innocent person. Moreover, since many starving people in the world are children, we can hardly say that they deserve starvation because of their own actions.

Perhaps we can remind ourselves here of Kant's point that our moral obligations hold, regardless whether or not any human being succeeds in meeting the obligations in practice. We may then be tempted to regard aid to starving people as a goal to be striven for, although we do not fully meet the obligation in practice. Kant however does not make this point as a way of providing an excuse for not meeting our moral obligations; rather he makes it to show that moral shortcomings in practice do not invalidate a moral obligation.

Thus, although Kant himself never asserts categorically, under threat of moral blame, an obligation to use affluent resources to aid people in need because of their infinite worth, we can make an excellent case for this assertion from his position.

Given this conclusion, should we regard the concept of every human being's infinite worth as a pleasant illusion or should we use all our surplus resources to aid starving people? Can we still retain the concept of infinite worth without having to make significant sacrifices?

Further Thought: Discuss whether or not the preceding analysis is affected in any way by either of the following claims: (1) We best can recognize the infinite worth of starving people by not feeding the ones starving now, thereby preventing them from reproducing and creating a situation where there will be even more starving people in the future; (2) When we do sacrifice our affluent resources to aid starving people, a significant percentage is lost due to waste, mismanagement, corruption, and ignorance.

Finally, if one denies that every human being possesses infinite worth, what reasons, if any, justify the denial?

Rationalism and Character Development

It is by our conduct in our intercourse with other men that we become just or unjust, and by acting in circumstances of danger, and training ourselves to feel fear or confidence, that we become courageous or cowardly. So too with our animal appetites and the passion of anger; for by behaving in this way or that on the occasions with which these passions are concerned, in the appropriate circumstances, some become temperate and gentle, and others profligate and ill-tempered. In a word, acts of any kind produce habits or characters of the same kind.

Hence we ought to make sure that our acts be of a certain kind; for the resulting character varies as they vary. It makes no small difference, therefore, whether a man be trained from his youth up in this way or that, but a great difference, or rather all the difference.

Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, Bk. II, Ch. 1

Given the stress upon a life of reason, we may expect rationalists to assert that acting rightly is simply a matter of reasoning correctly. In a sense, the positions of Plato, Aristotle, and Kant bear out this expectation; in another sense though, they stress the need for a development of character as a necessary condition for acting rightly.

For our purposes, let us assume that character, ideally, consists in a persistent determination to act consciously and consistently in terms of what is morally right. What then is the role of character development in a life of reason?

Both Socrates and Plato take the position that evil occurs due to ignorance. Persons act according to what seems good to them at the time; otherwise, they would not do the act. If they engage in an evil act then, this must happen because they are ignorant of what is truly good. Accordingly, acting rightly is a matter of reasoning correctly.

Complications arise however.

For Plato, we will never reason correctly and overcome our ignorance unless the rational part of our soul, or psyche, controls our appetites, or irrational desires. Whether reason or appetites control the psyche though depends upon the alliance set up with a third part of the psyche, namely, the spirited element, an agency of action associated with enthusiasm and determination. The process of character development consists in forging a strong alliance between reason and spirit. The process requires both some natural affinities and proper social training. Without this character development, spirit allies itself with the appetites, resulting in a greater degree of ignorance and hence evil.

For Aristotle, possessing moral virtue is synonymous with possessing character. Indeed moral virtue is a state of character. But how do we develop character? As the passage quoted above shows, we do so by having proper habits cultivated in us during our youth. We become temperate by living temperately. We must be trained to act rightly as a matter of habit until we come to understand rationally why an act is right. Without this training, we are unlikely to develop the constancy and practical wisdom indicative of moral virtue.

For Immanuel Kant, the ultimate goal of character development is a good will. A good will wills actions in accordance with, and for the sake of, the moral law; it does so as a matter of duty, that is, out of respect for the moral law itself. Kant however does not interpret the good will as submitting to the moral law as an external constraint. Rather, the good will is autonomous—that is, it self-directedly wills to itself actions in accordance with the moral law. Put differently, such willing is the only authentic expression of what an autonomous will is.

But how does anyone attain so lofty a state? Perhaps, according to Kant, no human being ever does.

Yet the good will remains as our ultimate moral goal. Moreover, attainment is a matter of reason—because reason underlies our capacity to will actions in accordance with the moral law. The problem of character development then reduces itself to a twofold task of (1) striving to use reason, instead of inclinations, to direct ourselves, and (2) training ourselves to act out of a sense of duty. Kant, proceeding much like Plato, regards inclinations as a hindrance to reason. Accordingly, we must turn away from rule by our appetites, desires, and emotions. (In passing, we should note that Kant does not condemn all desires and emotions. But he does insist that moral judgment is the task of reason—allowing however for the possibility that reasoning according to the moral law may approve pleasurable feelings such as the enjoyment of a tasty meal.)

Regarding duty, Kant suggests that young people study examples of historical personages to gain knowledge and inspiration in separating actions in accordance with duty from ones based upon inclinations. In this way, morality takes on more meaning in relation to practical life. Thus character development goes beyond the task of simply reasoning correctly to include as well daily practice in mastering our inclinations and habituating ourselves to act from duty.

Further Thought: To what degree do you think moral wrongs in life occur due to deficiencies in character? To what degree is the good that persons do attributable to the presence of character? Try to give some examples of deficiency and presence. What is your judgment of the role of character in moral action? If character is important how should it be developed? You may want to consider the positions of Plato, Aristotle, and Kant in answering the latter question.

Sources

Footnotes

1. Immanuel Kant, Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysics of Morals in Thomas Kingsmill Abbot, tr., Kant's Critique of Practical Reason and Other Works on the Theory of Ethics (London: Longmans, Green, & Co., 1898), p. 40.

2. Kant, The Metaphysical Elements of Justice (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1965), p. 102.

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The Good Life:

Rationalism

Plato, Aristotle, and Kant

Plato

Biographical Sketch

Reason and The Good

Forms and the Form of The Good

The Good Life Without the Form of The Good

Controversies: Some Objections and Possible Replies

Contra Plato

Thought Excursions

Sources

Footnotes

Aristotle

Biographical Sketch

Identification of Good with Functioning Well

Intellectual Virtues

Intellectual Virtues1

Moral Virtues

Moral Virtues2

Virtue As a Mean and the Need for Practical Wisdom

Simply Wrongful Actions

Contemplation

Practicality

Prospects for Virtue

Controversies: Some Objections and Possible Replies

Thought Excursions

Sources

Footnotes

Kant

Biographical Sketch

Need for A Moral Law

Acting from a Sense of Duty

The Moral Law, or Categorical Imperative

Treating Human Beings as Ends, Not Means

Application of the Moral Law

Capital Punishment

Controversies: Some Objections and Possible Replies

Contra Kant

Thought Excursions

Deontological and Teleological Ethics

Infinite Worth and Preservation of Human Life

Rationalism and Character Development

Sources

Footnotes

Intellectual Virtues¹

Moral Virtues²