Philosophers and theologians have spent years trying to answer this question. Indeed, the mere fact that two humans can come to any sort of consensus regarding what is good at all is curious. But this is exactly what we do when it comes to the vast majority of issues facing us. Surely everyone agrees that it’s immoral to punch your neighbor in the face. In fact, Theologian C.S. Lewis suggested in his book, Mere Christianity, that this consensus alone is an indication that an “objective law” does in fact exist somewhere, and this is evidence of God, for only God would have the power and authority to create such a divine truth. According to this theory, any difference of moral opinion arises from the misinterpretation, or failure to recognize, or acknowledge this divine law.
Scientists suggest a simpler explanation: They suggest we tend to agree on what is good because we tend to agree on what we like. For instance, No one likes getting punched in the face. Humans, as a species, have evolved a common denominator of hopes, dreams, desires as well as fears, annoyances and grievances. We call “Good” behavior that which maximizes the former and minimizes the latter.
Of course, our initial desires might be incongruent with our neighbor’s. In fact, our selfish desires are almost certainly diametrically opposed. I might like to steal my neighbor’s wallet, and my neighbor might like to steal mine. How do humans tend to resolve such a disagreement? If history is any indication, we may well come to physical blows over the matter. I might readily accept a fair fight if I was larger than my neighbor, however I would be overlooking the possibility that he could easily buy a gun and gain the upper hand. No problem, I’ll hire thugs with machine guns, to which he will respond with a grenade through my window at night. It wouldn’t be long until we were engaged in an endless stream of installing security systems and constantly looking over our shoulders. This is the endless stream of mutual defections we talked about in the previous chapter. Fortunately, most people have the foresight to realize this and we develop a contract of sorts; one that says, “I’m not going to steal your wallet if you won’t steal mine”. This is our ultimate desire. It’s a win-win and a cognitive no-brainer.
This all important realization forms the basis of morality. It’s the agreement that our own happiness is no more important than our neighbors, and if we imagine it is, problems will arise. Thus, we agree to temper our own selfishness as long as our neighbor does the same, and, ultimately, we’re both better for it. It’s a tenuous “contract” that often needs reinforcement (hence the popularity of religions).
But this philosophy alone doesn’t completely solve the issue. In real life, most actions produce a myriad of consequences. An action that might help your neighbor, might hurt another. I might bring about happiness to a teen if I encourage him to follow his dreams… but if his dreams involve shooting up the school, then the encouragement he received would never be considered “Good”. It might be good if I help a single mother rework her budget so that she can afford to send her daughter to college, but if she now only buys bargain products from overseas companies that are made by child slave labor, then perhaps the ultimate result of my action was not so moral after all. Virtually every action we take has repercussions that ripple far and wide, and weighing the wants and desires of only those close to us is bound to leave us blind to larger indiscretions not so easily perceived. This is why, in the late 18th century, philosopher Jeremy Bentham developed an equation of sorts to help us clear it up: He stated:
“The ‘right’ or ‘moral’ action is that which causes the “greatest happiness for the greatest number of people.”
It’s a philosophy called utilitarianism. One of his younger students, John Stuart Mill, popularized the philosophy with the 1863 book Utilitarianism. In it he states:
“…actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to produce the reverse of happiness.”
So, using this philosophy as a guiding light, it would be considered “immoral” to punch your neighbor in the face, or steal his wallet, or burn his house down, and “moral” to offer him a kind word, help him shovel his drive, or give him a gift. But what about showering him with candy every day? Paying for prostitutes to show up at his door? Leaving free beer on the hood of his car?
It’s clear that we must iron out the definition of the word “happiness”. For it often feels “good” to do things that are, in fact, bad for us. Candy for dinner might not be a good idea. For the sake of clarity, let’s define “pleasure” as something that brings about immediate reward, no matter how fleeting it is or how damaging it could be to our lives, but use the word “ happiness” to indicate something considerably more fulfilling over the long haul.
Virtually every formal guide to happiness recommends the denial of fleeting pleasures in the search for a deeper, more satisfying sense of well being that comes from a sense of accomplishment and the establishment of relationships. As Jesus said, “If thou will be my disciple, deny thyself, take up thy cross, and follow me[ Matthew 16:24]”. Indeed, the abstinence from sex, drinking and gambling were hallmarks of the Christian life for centuries. Even today, strict religious households often seem to live by the mantra, “If it feels good, it must be bad.”
Other religions practice similar forms of self denial. Fundamentalist Islamic men dare not let themselves see any part of a woman, less they give into temptation. Most Eastern religions incorporate periods of fasting. Buddhism goes so far to state that the ultimate goal of life is the “cessation of desire”.
The trick, of course, is knowing what will bring ultimate happiness. A drug addict might want another hit of meth, but no one would say it’s good to provide him one. Why? Because we know better. That’s a catch phrase of the morally indignant isn’t it? “You should know better than to do that”. Socrates suggested that’s what morality was all about – knowledge. Everyone wants to do the right thing – the good thing, the trick is knowing what it is. For him, the secret to a moral life wasn’t “Deny thyself”… it was “Know thyself”.
These are wise words as well. For if we really want to understand what makes others happy, we need only look inside ourselves and ask the same question. So, when we find the wallet in the alley, we need to ask ourselves “What would I want to happen if someone found my wallet?” This is introspection. It’s the first, and perhaps most powerful, method humans use to determine moral opinion.
Methods of Moral Discernment
- Introspection
Jesus preached introspection. His advice to “Do unto others as you would have done unto you” lies at the very heart of Christianity.
The value of this idea is obvious. When we introspect into our own feelings we realize we’d rather be greeted with a smile than a punch. We’d rather eat a good meal than have our food stolen, we’d rather have people open doors for us, than slam them in our face. Of course, we must remember to not confuse pleasure with happiness and take into consideration the long term implications of our desires and actions. We must also remember there are times that our desires will not be perfectly congruent with our neighbors. Just because like chocolate ice cream for dessert, doesn’t necessarily mean you will. Surely we all know how annoying it is for an overbearing mother or father to press us into things they assume are “best for us” when really they have no idea. This is where a second form of discernment comes into play.
- Observation
This allows us to observe the results of our actions. I see your face screw up with disgust when I give you chocolate ice cream, so I might try giving you vanilla (or better yet, I’ll just ask you what flavor you want – as we all agree that we enjoy freedom of choice). Observation allows us to better meet the needs of our neighbors. When faced with a problem like inner city crime we might decide through introspection that these kids have too much time on their hands and that extra curricular activities might set them on the straight and narrow, so, being moral people, we decide to start a night basketball league. Now our introspection may prove to be spot on brilliant and show a marked reduction in crime, or it may miss the mark, and actually increase crime by increasing inter-team rivalries. The only way to find out is to actually observe the results; perform studies, gather data etc…
Nowhere is the value of observation more apparent than when crafting policy for controversial issues such as prostitution, the legalization of drugs, pornography or gay marriage. These complex issues illustrate the vast variety of human desires, and introspection is unlikely to yield any consensus regarding the “morality” of these actions. Consequently, observation becomes the sole instrument for intelligent discourse.
Of course, even if you have 20 studies that suggest the legalization of drugs will ruin lives. We still face the moral question of how much influence we ought to have over the lives of others. We know that smoking causes cancer, but millions have decided the pleasure outweighs the danger. Who are we to tell them otherwise? All we can do is limit the exposure of innocents to second hand smoke in public places.
Should we say the same for all drugs? Objectivists and Libertarians believe we ought to be absolutely free to follow our own wants as long as it doesn’t impede on our neighbor’s desires.
The real question then becomes, what impedes on society? Should we be required to pay for the hospitalization of heroin addicts who OD? If so, should we have some say regarding the legality of heroin? Would the legalization of drugs make it more likely for minors to become addicted? Should we allow slick marketing campaigns for marijuana that prove too tempting for the average citizen? We allow Casinos to tempt people into bad bets, and soft drink companies to tempt people with sugar water. At what point do we “save people from themselves”
There is one more method of moral discernment that can help us answer these questions.
- The Acquisition of Knowledge.
Technically this is also observation, but the qualitative difference is that it involves second hand observation of the lessons and wisdom of experts. There are some things we can’t glean from introspection and observation of our immediate experience. When a fourteen year old is offered heroin at a party, he’s never experienced the effects of the drug, knows nothing about addiction, has never observed anyone experiencing symptoms of withdrawal. He is entirely dependent on school, parents and perhaps the church to guide the correct course of action. Without leaning on the wisdom of the experts of the past, we are doomed to repeat the mistakes of prior generations. So important is this knowledge that our nation has given parents near complete authority over youths up to 18 years of age. Contracts are not even valid unless signed by a parent.
Personal instruction by parents, teachers and preachers is not the only sort of wisdom we can acquire. The written word has allowed the work of particularly wise individuals to pass lessons on to millions at a time, be it through a work of nonfiction, a novel, a textbook, a religious text, a film or a play, or an internet blog. Today, we do not only have access to the minds of billions of others on Earth, we have access to the billions of great minds in the last 2000 years at our fingertips.
The astute reader will realize that cataloging of wisdom is, in effect, what religions are. The Bible was created as a codified collection of the most important written wisdom of the time. Every religion has a sacred text and, due to the common denominator of hopes, dreams, and fears among humans, the texts share many truisms.
Of course, the problem with relying on the acquisition of knowledge is that it’s not always correct. Just how often these religious texts hit the nail on the head and how often they lead people astray is a subject for great debate, but it seems to be one of the primary dividing lines between the left and right in this country. Those on the right tend to value tradition, especially religion. In 2008 exit polls revealed that 49% of McCain voters believed the Bible to be the literal word of God compared to a mere 8.4% of Obama voters.
So.. we have three weapons, introspection, observation and the acquisition of knowledge to discern what makes others happy… how to best fulfill our half of the tit for tat relationship, how to be good.
The Problems with Utilitarianism
For all the utility of Utilitarianism, it introduces an odd problem; how do we quantify “happiness for the most”. If one blindly adheres to a Spock-like logic by seeking a “net gain” of happiness, he or she may decide that it is “morally correct” to enslave, or even torture one innocent person in order to raise the overall happiness of 1000 others.
Why do we find this prospect so appalling? What utilitarianism seems to ignore is the concept of “justice”; something humans feel instinctively having evolved a tit for tat mechanism in our psyche. Consider the following moral head-scratcher thought up by philosopher Philippa Foot called the Trolley Problem:
A trolley is running out of control down a track. In its path are 5 people who have been tied to the track by the mad philosopher. Fortunately, you can flip a switch, which will lead the trolley down a different track to safety. Unfortunately, there is a single person tied to that track. Should you flip the switch
The mathematics of Utilitarianism doesn’t just allow you to flip the switch, it requires it, if you are seeking to raise happiness and lessen pain.
But consider this variation of the problem offered by Judith Jarvis Thomson:
As before, a trolley is hurtling down a track towards five people. You are on a bridge under which it will pass, and you can stop it by dropping a heavy weight in front of it. As it happens, there is a very fat man next to you – your only way to stop the trolley is to push him over the bridge and onto the track, killing him to save five. Should you proceed?
In both of the above cases, we are sacrificing one life to save five. But a solid majority of people are willing to flip the switch, but not push the man. Clearly there is something else going on in our heads other than pure utilitarianism. Granted, there are always a few logicians in the mix that are willing to push the man, if you find yourself in that camp, consider the following thought experiment once again provided by Philippa Foot:
A transplant surgeon has five patients, each in need of a different organ, each of whom will die without that organ. Unfortunately, there are no organs available to perform any of these five transplant operations. A healthy young traveler, just passing through the city the doctor works in, comes in for a routine checkup. In the course of doing the checkup, the doctor discovers that his organs are compatible with all five of his dying patients. Suppose further that if the young man were to disappear, no one would suspect the doctor.
If this offends you, you’re not alone. Philosopher Joshua Greene suggests humans evolved an aversion to mistreating innocent people. This is yet another indication that our emotional base is ruled by the tit for tat algorithm. It is a clear aversion to defection in the first round. So strong is this impulse that it overrides any utilitarian calculus. So there is, as C.S. Lewis suggested an innate sense of “fairness” that all humans possess. But it evolved rather than being divinely handed to us. In fact, our sense of fairness is so instinctual; it evolved before we even became human. Consider the following experiment done by comparative psychologist Frans De Wall with monkeys (not the more intelligent chimps)
Two monkeys are in cages side by side, happily performing tasks for cucumber slices. But when the monkey on the right begins to receive grapes (a favorite fruit) for the same task, the monkey on the left suddenly seems disenchanted with his lousy cucumber. The treat he was readily devouring only a moment ago is now so distasteful that he throws the cucumber slices back at his experimenter in anger. He would rather have nothing at all than endure such injustice.
Humans behave in a nearly identical fashion. Consider this clever experiment thought up in 1982 by Güth, Schmittberger, and Schwarze[ Güth, W., Schmittberger, and Schwarze (1982). “An Experimental Analysis of Ultimatum Bargaining”. Journal of Economic Behavior and Organization 3 (4): 367–388. doi:10.1016/0167-2681(82)90011-7]. It’s called “The ultimatum game”.
Two players are given a sum of money. The first player decides how it will be split, and makes an offer of some portion to the second player. The second player can accept this offer and take his or her share of the money or reject it, in which case, neither player receives anything. Typically, the game is played only once so that reciprocation is not an issue. There are many ways to play, the most common is to play with 10 dollars and anonymous opponents.
Purely rational behavior would suggest that the first player, being in total control, would take a large percentage of the money (maybe $9.99) and the second player, deciding that having one penny is better than having none, would accept their small share. Of course this never happens. The first player typically offers much more – often splitting the money 50-50, and the second player typically rejects shoddy offers of anything less than 20%, with some even rejecting anything less than 50-50. Apparently some people would rather sacrifice 4 dollars than suffer the injustice of knowing their opponent got away with 6.
Of course, the experiment is an artificial situation. In the villages in which we evolved, we seldom ran into anonymous people for single interactions. Thus reciprocation is always an issue, and our sense of “fairness” has been honed by hundreds by the interactions of ancestors for hundreds of thousands of years. It’s in our lifeblood. And we are quite careful about entreating upon the freedom of others.
But of course, we do entreat on the freedoms of our neighbors. Every day we make small infringements on the happiness of others simply by expecting them to stop at red lights so we can go. Part of living with others is the expectation that everyone will do their part or carry their weight. Fortunately we need not ask them to throw their bodies in front of speeding trains. Our requests are much less demanding, like requesting our roommate clean the bathroom. The method by which we dole out responsibilities such as this reveals much about our moral sense.