|       Human     rights are in desperate straits around the world. They are widely     proclaimed, but brutally violated on a mind-numbing scale. The basic     outlook which I wish to represent in this talk is that moral rights depend,     for their effective implementation, upon a certain condition in human     community. If the community is not one of a high level of moral substance     (that is, not predominantly one of morally good people, both in     official positions and throughout the population), then moral rights will,     at best, degenerate into mere legal rights; and even then they will be     continually subject to failure in the context of need, because the     individuals involved in such contexts do not act to support them. Those     legal rights—where they exist—will also be, at most, honored in the letter,     and not in the spirit of human dignity, as Kant and those of similar moral     outlook would understand human dignity.      When     this is the case, those who have legal rights (blacks, women, prisoners of     war, homosexuals) may be able to bring governmental processes and     forces to bear to secure themselves in certain (obviously important)     respects, and that is no small thing. But even that is not a given, and in     any case they will not achieve the type of acceptance and endorsement that     persons of genuinely good moral will and character extend to others in a     moral community. This will be even more true of people outside of     ethnic and national groups, and especially when hostilities prevail between     such groups.      Professor     Clark Butler has written:      In large     impersonal societies, individuals steeped in duty consciousness often lack     a sufficient knowledge of others and their claims to guarantee protection     of their rights even when they would wish to do so. However conscientious     individuals are, they are often unconscious of the secondary consequences     of actions. Even continuous duty consciousness is thus compatible with     periodic justified eruptions of rights consciousness. Yet a significant     difference exists between the rights consciousness of individuals who must     arouse a non-existence sense of duty and that of individuals who can call     on a pre-established sense of duty in others.1      This is     a very penetrating observation about the unfortunate human condition. The     lack of "a pre-established sense of duty in others" does indeed     make "periodic justified eruptions of rights consciousness"     inevitable. But I would add that more than such a sense of duty in others     is required for a proper functioning of rights in human society. Conscious     dutifulness to rights is never enough, and not just for the reasons     Professor Butler points out. Rather, such a dutifulness can succeed only as     a part of a moral character of pro-active concern for human goods. Beyond such     a sense of duty lies the sense of moral identity that each person carries     as a marginal presence in all their acts and activities. That is, the sense     of what makes me a good person, a person worthy of approval,     inclusion and support from normal human beings around me. This sense of     moral worth contains a presumption of the reality of moral worth,     and a presumption of shared knowledge of that reality. When the     sense of moral reality and knowledge is lacking or mistaken—e.g., takes     there to be no such thing as moral reality, or takes moral worth to consist     in ethnic identity, or in success at pursuing one's own interest above all,     etc.—then the sense of moral identity of the individual (and the group)     will lead to the denial or suppression of the human goods which it is the     primary function of morality to protect and advance.      Among     human goods, of course, rights themselves stand very high. In fact, they     are, if you wish, a kind of meta-good, for their point is always to assure     the accessibility of other goods. Their point is never just themselves,     never just having rights, but a kind of life in which respect and     active support for human dignity and well-being is paramount.      Now,     what I have called "the sense of moral identity," which each     person carries in all their acts and activities, rests upon a presumption     of a shared knowledge of life and of what makes one morally     acceptable or praiseworthy or not. However fragmentary or misguided the     presumed knowledge may be, it is, I think, impossible for a normal human     being (I leave out of account sociopathic and extremely traumatized     individuals) to conduct their life except upon the assumption that there is     shared or sharable knowledge of who is a morally good person and who     is not—and, by extension, of what is right and wrong, of what is morally     obligatory or praiseworthy or not, and so forth. Thus, the normal human     being accepts the necessity and the possibility of moral guidance and of learning     about such matters, and the possibility of being wrong with regard to them.     That is, of holding false views regarding them.             Throughout     the history of ethical theorizing in the Western world, well up into the     20th Century, every important thinker has agreed with that. What most     strikingly characterizes 20th Century ethical theorizing is the emergence     of Non-Cognitivism as a serious contender in the field of moral     understanding. Far from being a passing phase, as often seems assumed     currently, Non-Cognitivism (now usually in the guise of one "Constructionism"     or another) has entered the life-blood of Western culture. As a result,     there is now no recognized, systematic body of moral teaching that can be     presented as moral knowledge by the institutions of Western society:     chiefly, by the universities, and only slightly less so by the churches or     religious institutions—and certainly not by law and government. This fact     is the result of what I refer to as "the disappearance of moral     knowledge in the 20th Century." If one wishes to see the process     through which this came about from the viewpoint of the universities, Julie     Reuben's book, The Making of the Modern University gives the     institutional history.2     It was only during the mid- and late 20th Century that the University     became the center of cultural authority and set the societal standard of     what counts as knowledge and what does not. Currently, by the standard it     sets, moral understanding and judgment do not count as knowledge. This is     simply the case, though very few people seem to recognize it.      But the     university in the 20th Century was in this respect informed and controlled     by long-range developments in ethical thought—not by these alone, of     course, but essentially by them. Those developments laid the foundation for     the emergence and continuing dominance of Non-Cognitivism in our academic     culture: indeed, of a Non-Cognitivist culture generally. I want to briefly     survey those developments to show how we got where, I take it, we stand     today. I am not going to try to convince you here that there has been no     recovery from Non-Cognitivism. But I believe that a thesis to that effect     can be sustained by a careful examination of the work of writers from Hare     to Rawls, Williams, MacIntyre and Gibbard.      For     purposes of this discussion I shall use the work of G. E. Moore as a     dividing line. Although there is an increasing interest today in the     immediate predecessors of Moore, such as T. H. Green and F. H. Bradley, it     is still true, as it has been for many decades, that discussions of the     history of ethics, proceeding backward, stop at Moore, and only resume with     more distant figures such as Mill and Kant. This, I think, is because there     really was a profound transformation that occurred with Moore, but it was     one which had little to do with his famous Intuitionism or the other usual     topics of ethical theory in the 20th Century. Rather, it had to do with     what is to be regarded as the primary subject matter of ethical theorizing.             In the     1880's and 1890's, in the United States and Great Britain at least, a broad     consensus about the moral conduct of life prevailed, and was regarded as a     systematic body of knowledge. It was a consensus that was thought to be     rationally grounded in moral theorizing of the sort commonly done in the     universities at that time. This consensus was incorporated in a number of     widely used textbooks in ethics, prominent among which were John Dewey's Outlines     of a Critical Theory of Ethics3 (and,     later on, Dewey and Tuft's Ethics4),     J. H. Muirhead's The Elements of Ethics5,     and J. S. Mackenzie's A Manual of Ethics6,     to mention only three of several textbooks that went through repeated     revisions and editions in widespread use.      The main     source, by far, for this consensus was the personality and lectures of T.     H. Green, forcefully expressed in his short teaching career at Oxford and     in his posthumously published Prolegomena to Ethics. I shall refer     to this body of university teaching simply as "the pre-Moore     synthesis," because on the theoretical side, it was primarily Moore's     work that resulted in that consensus evaporating, with nothing explicitly     replacing it in the academic (and later the cultural) context.             Looking     back at the pre-Moore synthesis in ethical theorizing, the first point that     stands out is what it took to be the central subject matter of     ethical inquiry. The favorite term for that subject matter among these     writers was "conduct," by which voluntary action, or action with     an end in view, was meant. (Sometimes—and especially later on in this     period—conduct was approached by way of the moral judgment. On this     approach, one first identified and examined the characteristically moral     judgments, and then moved on to an examination of what those judgments are     about—which was found to be primarily conduct, or action with an end in     view. Then the analysis was turned upon conduct to see what it is and how     it divides into "good" and "bad" conduct, and what that     means. In other cases one might speak, not of the judgment, but of the     "idea" of obligation, etc.)      As for     conduct itself, it was regarded as a type of complex and 'organic' whole.7     John Dewey, for example, said: "Conduct implies more than something     taking place; it implies purpose, motive, intention; that the agent knows     what he is about, that he has something which he is aiming at." (Outlines,     p. 242) And, on this broad understanding, conduct is not separable from     character. Conduct arises out of the whole person. "Character and     conduct are, morally, the same thing, looked at first inwardly and then     outwardly." (p. 246) Thus, "To say that a man's conduct is good,     unless it is the manifestation of a good character, is to pass a judgment     that is self-contradictory." (p. 246)      This     view of ethical reality was widely assumed among pre-Moore teachers     and writers. They were, generally, people who believed life to be an     organic whole, where the components of conduct were not atomistic units,     but thoroughly inter-penetrated one another, making the "meaning"     or nature of each component dependent upon that of all the others. So the     motive and intention, feelings or sentiments, the consequences and the     personal character, that go into an action which is conduct are not     things that can be separately considered in ethical analysis. Considered     together, however, they allow us to understand and know—indeed, to     teach—what human beings ought to be and to do.      Nevertheless,     it is the will that stands out in this literature as primary for     moral goodness or badness. MacKenzie remarks that "the good will     ...supremely good and ...the ultimate object approved by the moral     judgment." (Manual, p. 129) But, of course, "A good will     cannot be there without good action," he says, "and there can be     no good action without a good will." (p. 129)      T. H.     Green had earlier held that the distinction between the good and bad will     "must lie at the root of every system of ethics." On his view,     "The statement that the distinction between good and bad will must lie     at the basis of any system of ethics, and the further statement that this     distinction itself must depend on the nature of the objects willed, would     in some sense or other be accepted by all recognized 'schools' of     moralists, but they would be accepted in very different senses."8     The good will certainly will be thought of in these writers as a will that     is a settled, coherent body of dispositions to act in ways that promote the     goods influenced by the action. As James Seth, another luminary in the     pre-Moore consensus remarked, "Conduct, therefore, points to character,     or settled habit of will. But will is here no mere faculty, it is a man's     'proper self'. The will is the self in action; and in order to act, the     self must also feel and know."9             The     second point that stands out in the pre-Moore synthesis is that it assumed     the substance of the moral life, centered on conduct, will and character,     to be an object (subject) of knowledge. (Here, let us say that one     has knowledge of a certain subject matter if he is capable of—or, in the     occurrent sense of "know," if he actually is—representing that     subject matter as it is, on an appropriate basis of thought and     experience.) Thus, all of the authors concerned, without exception, speak     of "the Science of Ethics," as the field of inquiry in     which they are engaged, and on the basis of which they naturally give     fairly specific directions concerning what people ought to do and to be.     That is a language and a practice which you can hardly imagine anyone in the     field of ethical theory using today. But they used it quite     confidently—even without a thought. This followed from what they took the     subject matter of ethical theorizing to be, plus the assumption that that     subject matter is open to examination by observation, abstraction and     theorization. It is the failure of this assumption about the accessibility     of will, character, etc. to knowledge that, more than any other     single thing, accounts for the current situation with regard to moral     knowledge and authority, described above as "the disappearance of     moral knowledge."             The     third point about the pre-Moore synthesis that must be noted here is that     normative, first level moral judgments were regarded as a natural part     of moral theory. That is, given the appropriate inquiry into and     understanding of the good person or character, and of the good or right     action ("conduct"), it was thought that normative judgments of     specific application to persons and actions were not only appropriate, but     were required as a natural part of the work of the ethical theorist.     Ethical theorists thought it to be a natural part of their work to say, to teach,     that certain lines of action were right or wrong, and that certain (types     of) people were of good or bad—even "evil"—character. They     thought that "moral guidance" through instruction and personal     influence was a proper part of their work, for which they were responsible,     and that it should be expressed "in class," when appropriate and     appropriately. The division between what later came to be known as     "meta-ethics" and practical or normative ethics, as that     distinction comes into play post-Moore, would have been something     inconceivable to them. Contrary to Professors of ethics nowadays, they all     would have thought that they had moral knowledge that their students did     not have, and had a 'moral authority' based thereon.      The     effect of this was that they expected their teaching to strongly effect the     actions of their students, and by many reports it did. R. G. Collingwood     said, in his Autobiography, that "The School of Green sent out     into public life a stream of ex-pupils who carried with them the conviction     that philosophy and particularly the philosophy they had learned at Oxford     was an important thing and that their vocation was to put it into     practice.... Through this effect on the minds of its pupils, the philosophy     of Green's school might be found, from about 1880 to about 1910,     penetrating and fertilizing every part of the national life."10      In     America, much of the moral drive back of the "Progressive     Movement," of the 1890's on to the 1930's and later, came from the     teachings of John Dewey (and like-minded university and professional     people) about moral reality, moral knowledge, and the moral life. This was     the last time there existed in America a generally shared understanding of     moral worth that could publicly serve as the basis of a public program of     legal and social reform. (Note how far the work of John Rawls, for example,     falls short of any such real effect.)      Dewey at     mid-career had this to say about moral worth: "We have reached the     conclusion that disposition as manifest in endeavor is the seat of moral     worth, and that this worth itself consists in a readiness to regard the     general happiness—even against contrary promptings of personal comfort and     gain." (Ethics, p. 364) The words are Dewey's, but he would     have been first to tell you that they fairly accurately express the outcome     of a remarkably rich period of ethical reflection, running from T. H. Green     to Dewey's middle years. They mark the end of that period, however, and the     influence of G. E. Moore and "the analysis of ethical concepts"     was to change the subject matter of ethical theory away from the moral life     itself, and would institute the period of ethical     nihilism—"Non-Cognitivism" or, at least, agnosticism—that     continues up to today.      In After     Virtue Alaster MacIntyre, who has long been deeply concerned with the     state of affairs I call the disappearance of moral knowledge, perceptively     comments: "We have not yet fully understood the claims of any moral     philosophy until we have spelled out what its social embodiment would     be.... Since Moore the dominant narrow conception of moral philosophy has     ensured that the moral philosophers could ignore this task."11     If that is true, we have not yet fully understood the claims of the     post-Moore moral philosophers.             Now the     pre-Moore attitude toward the relevance of moral theory and teaching to     responsible moral instruction and guidance, and to the formation of     character and society, was the received view from Socrates through the     pre-Moore thinkers. It is hard to find any serious exceptions. I know of     none. I doubt anyone will seriously question this with respect to Classical     and Medieval thinkers. But the assumed connection between moral theory and     moral guidance is strong and vital right up through the pre-Moore period.     David Hume in the late 1700's remarks that "The end of all moral     speculations is to teach us our duty; and, by proper representations of the     deformity of vice and the beauty of virtue, beget correspondent habits, and     engage us to avoid the one, and embrace the other.... What is honourable,     what is fair, what is becoming, what is noble, what is generous, takes     possession of the heart, and animates us to embrace it and maintain it."12     For all the professed admiration of Hume currently, who today would follow     him in this? One wants to keep in mind, however, that it was precisely such     a conviction about moral reality and life that animated earlier discussions     of rights.      Henry     Sidgwick, toward the end of the 1800's said: "The moralist has a     practical aim: We desire knowledge of right conduct in order to act on it."13      An older     contemporary of Sidgwick, Matthew Arnold, in the opening paragraph of his     essay "Marcus Aurelius," in Essays in Criticism, Vol. I,     expressed the view that was the common cultural outlook at the time:     "The object of systems of morality is to take possession of human     life, to save it from being abandoned to passion or allowed to drift at     hazard, to give it happiness by establishing it in the practice of virtue;     and this object they seek to attain by presenting to human life fixed     principles of action, fixed rules of conduct. In its uninspired as well as     in its inspired moments, in its days of languor or gloom as well as in its     days of sunshine and energy, human life has thus always a clue to follow,     and may always be making way toward its goal."14      The     obvious if not pressing question is: What happened? In particular, was it     actually discovered that there is no possible body of knowledge     about moral distinctions and relations upon the basis of which one person     might give moral instruction or guidance to another, and moral institutions     of right and law be maintained? I cannot believe it was. Of course that     whole group of mid-20th Century theorists known as Non-Cognitivists     ("Emotivists") claimed to discover just that. They had a powerful     impact upon ethical theory as professionally practiced, and one from which     it has not yet recovered to any significant degree. But I suspect that they     and the situation they created are more a symptom of deeper-lying causes     than a primary cause in their own right.      Certainly     they (the Non-Cognitivists) did not discover there was no moral     knowledge. Even if there is none, they didn't discover it. Rather,     they were engaged in a project (now long-recognized as failing) of     redefining knowledge, and redefining knowledge in such a way that moral     distinctions could not be "known" in their new sense. A thin     triumph at best, from a rational point of view. But they claimed to have discovered     that knowledge was not what it had long been taken to be, and that, among     other astonishing results, there could, in the nature of the case, be no     knowledge of the domain which pre-Moore ethical theory had taken as its     subject matter. What had passed as moral knowledge (for them, now,     "moral language"—a not insignificant change of subject) would     have to be re-interpreted as something else altogether. In the shadow to     the "Linguistic Turn" in philosophy, such a re-interpretation is     exactly what the Non-Cognitivists (Ayer, Stevenson, etc.—and later R. M.     Hare and the "multifunctionalists") offered. It is important to     notice that that effort at re-interpretation has continued unabated up to     the present, still with nothing in the way of an established or promising     result on the horizon. But this failure has not led people to question the     fundamental change—the turn to "concepts" and the "logic of     moral discourse"—which was instituted at Moore. Rather, they just work     all the harder in the direction that took its rise from Moore. Surely     something deep is driving them.             To     understand what actually happened to bring about the shift from a pre- to a     post-Moore understanding of moral knowledge and of the practice of moral     theory and guidance, one must look, more broadly, to the universities of     the late 1800's and early 1900's. The attempt by the Non-Cognitivists to     redefine knowledge was part of a much larger social process that can be     aptly called "The Secularization of the Academy." This process     marked a shift that certainly was historically necessary, but it also was     one that had many inessential and unforeseen consequences.      A part     of what was involved comes out in a statement by Professor John Lyons, made     in 1998, on how he understands his role as a teacher in the university to     exclude moral instruction: "I do not claim to be morally superior to     my students, to have a source of moral knowledge that they do not have, or     to convince them of my authority as a teacher of ethics."15     Now this statement raises a number of questions. Why would one think that     to give moral guidance is to presume one is morally superior? And     why think that to have moral knowledge would require that one have a     "special source" that others (who don't have the knowledge) do     not have, making you something special—and then, perhaps, morally superior?     And why think giving moral guidance involves trying to get people to     believe and act on my authority?      A part     of the irony here is that Lyons, a Professor of French, is clearly teaching     that it would be morally odious for him or others to do such things as he     mentions. There is no doubt that he is prepared to say and to teach this in     class, and that it is part of the moral guidance he was given by his     teachers and cohorts in his socialization as an academic. He is giving     moral guidance to one and all in this very statement in which he is     explaining why he does not give moral guidance to students. No doubt the     things which Lyons here morally reproaches have been done in the past, and     in ways deserving of his reproach. Inappropriate and even immoral     moralizing by teachers has been done and is now being done (as Lyons     acknowledges, p. 155); and no doubt there is a special danger of this     occurring around social institutions, such as universities. But to avoid     these dangers it is not necessary (Is it even possible?) to deny the     existence or possession of moral knowledge, or to deny that it is possible     or morally permissible—or even morally required—to pass such knowledge on     in appropriate ways when that is suited to the academic situation. Clearly,     in making his remarks Lyons presupposes moral knowledge (He knows,     no doubt, that it is morally wrong to claim to be morally superior to     students, etc.), and that it is right to pass this knowledge on. And I     venture he would feel free, or even obliged, to make his statements here     quoted in the classroom, expecting his students to believe them. But what     he is doing is all a part of what was involved in the secularization of the     academy. The professor had to get out of the business of moral guidance,     which had been so closely involved with religion and religious authority.     That will be easy if there is no moral knowledge.             Now     secularization, with its essential as well as inessential accompaniments,     went hand-in-hand with the professionalization of the academic     areas. This might be viewed as the positive side of the divorce from     religious institutions. The maintenance of standards in a social enterprise     such as the university requires appropriate social organizations. Such     maintenance is one mark of a profession, and, in the past, it has been     necessary for the purposes of guaranteeing the expertise of the individual     practitioner and the responsibility of the profession to society at large.      But     professionalization requires careful identification of a subject matter so     that its boundaries may be respected. Philosophy, and especially Ethical     Theory, had long been concerned with the understanding and guidance of life     as a whole. But Philosophy after 1900 resolutely turns away from that, as     one part of secularization, and increasingly does so as its     professionalization develops. This required the identification of a different     and unique subject matter for Philosophy. That subject matter turned out to     be 'concepts', and Philosophy dutifully turns out to be 'logic'. A new     subject matter and a new method are then in hand—if we can only find out     what they are. Verbally at least, "Logic, Language and Meaning"     are the center of focus in what was promised to be a "Revolution in     Philosophy."      Now it     should be noted that, in fairly close correspondence with all this,     Psychology was trying to become scientific. (Actually, becoming     scientific was high on the agenda for Philosophy as well, and was the main     reason it 'became' logic.) In Psychology one must forget about the     "soul." (See Edward Reed's marvelous book, From Soul to Mind.16)     Becoming scientific meant experimental psychology: laboratories and     only what could be studied in them. Then Behaviorism (Watson), or Deep     Theory (Freud and others), and most recently brain theory mixed in with     computers. What must be noted here for our concerns is that none of these     directions of Psychology dealt with, or allowed one to deal with, the     traditional subject matter of ethical theory, though many efforts were made     to include that subject matter: "conduct," will and character.17      But it     needs to be said once again with emphasis that, in all of these     developments in Philosophy and Psychology, and in the fields of     professionalized learning in general, no one discovered that we     cannot know, in the ways routinely practiced by pre-Moore ethical     theorists, the nature of rational deliberation and choice, of     "conduct," will and character, and of the primary moral     distinctions embedded therein. But, regardless of that, choice, will and     character disappear from the field of acceptable knowledge—and     especially as they were thought to be known by observation (of oneself and     others), conceptualization or abstraction, and theoretical organization—the     practice of the pre-Moore consensus.             What is     the effect of all this on the status of rights and right claims in guiding     human behavior, collectively and individually?      Rights     claims were always the most resilient segment of moral discourse in the     face of Non-cognitivism. Even in the heyday of Emotivism, many never     surrendered the view that such claims stand in logical relations to other     statements. They simply could not accept the view that rights claims were     inherently non-rational. "I have a right to X" was thought of as     logically entailing "You have an obligation not to interfere."     And as logical relations were slowly pried loose from truth, in the     progression of ethical theorizing in the mid 1900's, rights claims became     even more acceptably "cognitive." Overall, however, the reason     why rights talk survived the Emotivist onslaught, to the extent it did, was     not because of some insight into their objective, truth-bearing status, but     because the social and political situation would not tolerate the idea that     opposition to the draft, racial segregation and economic deprivation were     simply matters of taste or feeling. In these matters the objective reality     of right and wrong, justice and injustice, good and evil, and the assurance     of knowledge thereof, were just undeniable to most citizens including     academics. Rights and justice were too vital to life to dismiss to the     realm of the Non-Cognitive.      Unfortunately,     however, that did not dispel the cloud over moral reality and knowledge     which was cast by their exclusion from the domains of science and by the     associated Non-Cognitivist offensive, and which could not but effect the     force of claims to moral rights. Legal rights are, of course,     another matter—though with problems of their own—except, of course, insofar     as they are thought to depend upon a moral foundation. Legal rights are the     result of political processes and are sanctioned by government action. They     may be either moral or immoral. As important as they are, the moral quality     of the society in which they exist is what concerns most people.      The     legalities of the treatment of the prisoners in Guantanamo18     may be endlessly discussed, and no doubt will be. But the two sides are     really concerned about whether or not the government of the United States     should be permitted to treat those prisoners in ways which are regarded by     many as immoral. Classifying them as "Non-Combatants" to get     around provisions of the Geneva Convention is a typical maneuver to permit     treating people in ways not morally acceptable. One side argues legalities     to prevent what they regard as immoral—not just illegal—treatment. The     other side argues legalities to permit treatment that they themselves     would recognize as immoral under most circumstances. Here as in many other     scenes of contemporary life, the moral has no effective standing, and is     replaced with the political and the legal, which then fail to address the     deeper issue of "is it right?"             But if     there is no moral reality, or no knowledge of it, then the legal and the     political are as far as one can go. What more is there to be concerned     about? Persons who would respond to "moral" issues beyond that     would be foolish, "unrealistic." They would be worrying     themselves, perhaps risking their careers or even their lives for nothing,     or at least for something which no one has knowledge of—perhaps for no more     that a personal quirk on their part. That is pretty much where the     "knowledge" now acceptable as such to the University leaves us.     And this explains why sporadic efforts to teach "professional     ethics" have no significant impact upon professional behavior and     life. They can find no cognitive foundation for the formation of moral     character and for becoming a morally responsible person in all the     connections of life. And since the University is the arbiter of what counts     as knowledge, it rules out any such foundation from other sources, and     leaves only ethnic identity (cultural relativism) or non-rational personal     commitments to go on. These do not provide a satisfactory basis upon which     to confront the widespread abuses of human rights that characterize our     contemporary world.             I have     spoken repeatedly of the reality of moral goodness and of knowledge of     moral goodness. Now I would like to briefly state my view of them, and     point out how that view positions human rights in the broader context of     morally acceptable human existence. Here I cannot argue for my view, but     only state it and offer a few essential clarifications.      The morally     good person, I would say, is a person who is effectively intent upon     advancing the various goods of human life with which they are effectively     in contact, in a manner that respects their relative degrees of importance     and the extent to which the actions of the person in question can actually     promote the existence and maintenance of those goods. Thus, moral goodness     (as well as badness) is a matter of the organization of human dispositions     and will into a system called "character."      "Character"     refers to the settled dispositions to act in certain interrelated ways,     given relevant circumstances. Character is expressed in what one does     without thinking, as well as to what one does after acting without     thinking. The actions which come from character will usually persist when     the individual is unobserved, as well as when the consequences of the     action are not what the agent would prefer. A person of good moral     character is one who, from the deeper and more pervasive dimensions of the     self, is intent upon advancing the various goods of human life with which     they are effectively in contact (etc.).      The     person who is morally bad or evil is one who is intent upon the destruction     of the various goods of human life with which they are effectively in     contact, or who is indifferent to the existence and maintenance of those     goods.      This     orientation of the will toward promotion of human goods is the fundamental moral     distinction: the one which is of primary human interest, and from which all     the others, moving toward the periphery of the moral life and ethical     theory, can be clarified. For example: the moral value of acts (positive     and negative); the nature of moral obligation and responsibility; virtues     and vices; the nature and limitations of rights, punishment, rewards,     justice and related issues; the morality of laws and institutions; and what     is to be made of moral progress and moral education.      A     comprehensive and coherent theory of these matters can, I suggest, be     developed only if we start from the distinction between the good and bad     will or person—which, admittedly, almost no one is currently prepared to     discuss. That is one of the outcomes of ethical theorizing through the 20th     Century. It is directly opposite to the consensus of the late decades of     the 19th Century, for which, as we have noted, the fundamental subject of     ethical theorizing was the will and its character. (See Green, Bradley,     Sidgwick, Dewey)      I     believe that the orientation of the will provides the fundamental moral     distinction because it is what ordinary human beings, not confused or     misled by theories of various kind, naturally and constantly employ in the     ordinary contexts of life, both with reference to themselves (a touchstone     for moral theory) and with reference to others (where it is employed with     much less clarity and assurance). And I also believe that this is the     fundamental moral distinction because it seems to me the one most     consistently present at the heart of the tradition of moral thought that     runs from Socrates to Sidgwick—all of the twists and turns of that     tradition notwithstanding.      Just     consider the role of "the good" in Plato, Aristotle and     Augustine, for example, stripped, if possible, of all the intellectual     campaigns and skirmishes surrounding it. Consider Aquinas' statement that     "this is the first precept of law, that good is to be done and     promoted, and evil is to be avoided. All other precepts of the natural     law are based upon this; so that all the things which the practical reason     naturally apprehends as man's good belong to the precepts of the natural     law under the form of things to be done or avoided."19     Or consider how Sidgwick arrives at his "maxim of Benevolence"—"that     each one is morally bound to regard the good of any other individual as     much as his own, except in so far as he judges it to be less, when     impartially viewed, or less certainly knowable or attainable by him."20     Sidgwick of course tried hard to incorporate his intuitions of justice and     of prudence into this crowning maxim, but with little obvious success.      A few     further clarifications must be made:      1. I     have spoken of the goods of human life in the plural, and have spoken of     goods with which we are in effective contact, i.e. can do something     about. The good will is manifested in its active caring for particular     goods that we can do something about, not primarily in dreaming of     "the greatest happiness of the greatest number" or even of my own     'happiness' or of "duty for duty's sake." Generally speaking,     thinking in high level abstractions will always defeat moral will in     practice. As Bradley and others before him clearly saw, "my station     and its duties" is nearly, but not quite, the whole moral scene, and     it can never be simply bypassed on the way to "larger" and     presumably more important things.      One of     the major miscues of ethical theory since the sixties has been, in my     opinion, its almost total absorption in social and political issues. This     for reasons already indicated, and of course these issues do also concern     vital human goods. They are important, and we should always do what we can     for them. But moral theory simply will not coherently and comprehensively     come together from their point of view. They do not essentially involve the     center of moral reality, the will and character.      2. Among     human goods—things that are good for human beings and enable them to     flourish—are human beings and certain relationships to them, and,     especially, good human beings. That is, human beings that fit the     above description. One's own well-being is a human good, to one's self and     to others, as is what Kant called the moral "perfection" of     oneself. Of course non-toxic water and food, a clean and safe environment,     opportunities to learn and to work, stable family and community relations,     and so forth, all fall on the list of particular human goods. (Most of the stuff     for sale in our society probably does not.) Rights are primary human goods,     and therefore the good person, on my view, will be deeply committed to     their recognition and full deployment.      There     seems to me no necessity of having a complete list of human goods, or a     tight definition of what something must be like to be on the list. Marginal     issues, "Lifeboat" cases, and the finer points of conceptual     distinction are interesting exercises and have a point for philosophical     training; but it is not empirically confirmable, to say the least, that the     chances of having a good will or being a good person improve with     philosophical training in ethical theory as that has been recently     understood. It is necessary for the purposes of being a good or bad person     that one have a good general understanding of proximate human goods and of     how they are effected by action. And that is also what we need for the     understanding of the good will and the goodness of the individual. We do     not have to know what the person would do in a lifeboat situation to know     whether or not they have good will, though what they do in such situations     may throw light on who they are, or on how good (or bad) they are.     The appropriate response to actions in extreme situations may not be a     moral judgment at all, but one of pity or admiration, of the tragic sense     of life, or of amazement at what humans are capable of, etc. etc.      3. The     will to advance the goods of human life with which one comes into contact     is inseparable from the will to find out how to do it and do it     appropriately. If one truly wills the end one wills the means, and coming     to understand the goods which we effect, and their conditions and     interconnections, is inseparable from the objectives of the good person and     the good will. Thus, knowledge, understanding and rationality are     themselves human goods, to be appropriately pursued for their own sakes,     but also because they are absolutely necessary for moral self-realization     as here described. Formal rationality, defined without reference to particular     ends or values, is fundamental to the good will, but is not sufficient to     it.      4.     Clearly, knowledge of moral distinctions depends upon knowledge of the     human self, the subject of those distinctions. What E. Anscombe said     decades ago about the need to quit doing moral theory until we have an     adequate "moral psychology"21     seems very sensible in the light of how knowledge is now understood in the     institutions of knowledge. Of course we can't stop theorizing. We     have to continue thinking about moral distinctions, because we have to act,     and have to find out how to act. But we can never regain the self (will,     character) as a subject of knowledge so long as we insist in forcing the     self into a scientistic ("naturalistic") mold. Moral knowledge     disappears with authentic self-knowledge, which disappears with the     ascendancy of "naturalism" (scientism). Moral character is not a     matter of the physical body at any level of refinement, or of its     "natural" relations to world and society. As long as the physical     realm is regarded as the only subject of knowledge, there will be no moral     knowledge and no cognitive foundation of the moral life. This is exactly     where we stand today in Western culture and in the University system that     presides over it on its epistemic side.             Moral     rights have as their primary role resistance against the attitudes and     actions of people and arrangements of evil intent. But in order for them to     be effective in that role they must be urged and supported by multitudes of     people of good will: people of established benevolence, wisdom, prudence,     courage and temperance. Such people can only support their lives upon their     experience of the reality of moral distinctions and values and upon a clear     knowledge of their reality and nature. Upon that foundation, when widely     shared, moral and then legal rights can frame societies and governments     that are not just just as defined by rights, but are contexts of     human flourishing. Pull that foundation away, and justice and rights     themselves will not flourish—though we must have them and must always     struggle to do the best we can by them. The point is not that we should     wait for people to be highly developed or morally perfect to push for the     upholding and expansion of rights. We should always do what we can to that     end. It is an essential part of individual and corporate moral     enculturation and progress. But what we can accomplish thereby depends upon     the moral character of multitudes of people nourished and directed by     knowledge of the reality and nature of moral values and distinctions.     Ironically, the very institutions of knowledge today are turned against     that upon which a high level of moral goodness in individuals and society     depends.             NOTES      1Quoted     from Chapter One, section 9, of Clark Butler's unpublished book on Human     Rights Ethics. Return to     text.      2(Chicago     and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1996). Return to     text.      3Outlines     of a Critical Theory of Ethics (First edition, Ann Arbor, MI.: Register Publishing     Company, 1891). References here are to John Dewey, The Early Works     1882-1898: Essays and Outlines of a Critical Theory of Ethics     (Carbondale, IL.: Southern Illinois University Press, 1969) Return to     text.      4John     Dewey and James H. Tufts, Ethics (New York: Henry Holt and Company,     1908). Return to     text.      5John     H. Muirhead, The Elements of Ethics, third edition (London: John     Murray, 1928). Return to     text.      6John     S. Mackenzie, A Manual of Ethics, fourth edition (London: W. B.     Clive, University Tutorial Press, 1900). Return to     text.      7The     metaphysics of "Internal Relations" dominates the thought of     Green and of most of his followers, and certainly that of Dewey. Return to     text.      8T.     H. Green, Prolegomena to Ethics, ''154 & 155. Second edition (Oxford: The Clarendon     Press, 1884), pp. 160-161. New edition, ed. David O. Brink (Oxford:     Clarendon Press, 2003), pp. 174-175. Return to     text.      9James     Seth, A Study of Ethical Principles, twelfth edition (New York:     Charles Scribner's Sons, 1911), p. 5. Return to     text.      10R. G. Collingwood, An Autobiography (Oxford:     Oxford University Press, 1939), p. 17. Return to     text.      11Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue, second edition     (Notre Dame, IN.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984), p. 23. Return to     text.      12David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of     Morals, edited by L. A. Selby-Bigge, second edition (Oxford: At the     Clarendon Press, 1902), Section 1, p. 173. Return to     text.      13Henry Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics, seventh     edition (New York: Dover Publications, 1966), p. 5. See also Henry     Sidgwick, Practical Ethics: A Collections of Addresses and Essays     (New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998) for many clear     statements on the point here at issue. Return to     text.      14Matthew Arnold, Essays in Criticism: First Series     (New York: Macmillan, 1930). Return to     text.      15John D. Lyons, "Upon What Authority Might We Teach     Morality?" Philosophy and Literature, 22:155-160 (1998), p.     160. This is one contribution to a "Symposium: Is Morality a Non-Aim     of Education?" pp. 136-199 of this volume. Return to     text.      16(New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997). Return to     text.      17See how Owen Flanagen tries to accomplish this in his     entertaining book, The Problem of the Soul (New York: Basic Books,     2002). The title misleads. The problem dealt with is the problem of saving     all that matters in human life once it is decided that there is no soul.     This book is the current exemplar of a genre that arises in the 17th     Century and runs through works like Ludwig Büchner's Force and Matter,     the writings of Ernst Haeckel, and Carl Sagan's Cosmos. The effort     to 'save' moral reality and knowledge strictly within the framework of     physical reality is noble, perhaps, but hardly successful. Return to     text.      18The conference for which this paper was prepared was on     "Guantanamo Bay and the Judicial Treatment of Aliens." The     concern was with the violation of the human rights of Iraqi and Afghan     prisoners interned in the U.S. facility at Guantanamo Bay. Return to     text.      19Treatise on Law, Question XCIV, Second Article. Many editions. Return to     text.      20Methods of Ethics, p. 382. Return to     text.      21See the opening paragraph of her "Modern Moral     Philosophy," Philosophy, 33:1-19 (1958), and reprinted in G. E.     M. Anscombe, Ethics, Religion and Politics (Minneapolis: University     of Minnesota Press, 1981), pp. 26-42.  | 
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