Category Archives: philosophy

Jonathan Dancy’s particularism

I think that Jonathan Dancy, a British moral philosopher,

has made an important contribution with an argument that I would loosely paraphrase

as follows. (See this

webpage for his own statement.)

Although moral philosophy

is highly diverse in its methods and conclusions, it almost always involves an

effort to identify concepts or words that have consistent moral significance.

For instance, when we examine a complex case of adultery, we may detect numerous

features that are morally relevant: promise-breaking, deceit, self-indulgence,

lust, pleasure, happiness, love, freedom, and self-fulfillment. We may not know

how to judge the case, since its features push us in various directions. But we

do know—or we think we know—the valence of each concept. Regardless

of our overall judgment of an adultery story, the fact that it involves a broken

promise makes it worse than it would otherwise be. The fact that it expresses

freedom or increases happiness makes it better. And so on.

This kind of

analysis has the advantage of allowing what Dancy calls "switching arguments."

We form a strong opinion about the moral polarity of a concept that arises in

well-understood cases, and then we apply (or "switch") it to new situations.

So, for example, if we admire conventional marriage because it reflects long-term

mutual commitment, then we ought to admire the same feature in gay relationships.

But what if moral concepts do not have the same valence or polarity in

each case? What if they are not always good or bad (even "all else being

equal"), but instead change their polarity depending on the context? Clearly,

this is true of some concepts. Pleasure, for example, is often a good thing, but

not if it comes from observing someone else’s pain—then the presence of pleasure

is actually bad, even if it has no impact on the sufferer. In my view, it is a

mistake to isolate "pleasure" as a general moral concept, because one

cannot tell whether it makes things better or worse, except by examining how it

works in each context.

Philosophers have always been eager to reject some

potential moral concepts as ambiguous and unreliable; but they have wanted to

retain at least a few terms as guides to judgment. Thus, for instance, Kant drops

"pleasure" and "happiness" from the moral lexicon, but "duty"

remains. It would be revolutionary to assert, as Dancy does, that "every

consideration is capable of having its practical polarity reversed by changes

in context." Dancy believes that no concepts, reasons, or values have the

same moral polarity in all circumstances. Whether a feature of an act or situation

is good or bad always depends on the context, on the way that the feature interacts

with other factors that are also present in the concrete situation. To shake our

confidence that some important moral concepts have consistent polarities, Dancy

provides many examples in which the expected moral significance of a concept is

reversed by the context. For example, truth-telling is generally good. But willingly

telling the truth to a Gestapo agent, even about some trivial matter such as the

time of day, would be regrettable. Returning a borrowed item is usually good-but

not if you learn that it was stolen, in which case it is wrong to give it back

to the thief.

perils of fame

I received this year’s edition of The Higher Education

Exchange today, with an interview of me by

David Brown. The interview starts with me worrying about academics

who pursue fame. I think that the desire for fame is a major motivation

in academia; in fact, status and fame seem to be professors’ main selfish

goals. (Curiosity is one of their main unselfish motives.) I’m interested

in this because I think that both the pursuit of fame and its attainment

can have distorting—even corrupting—effects on scholars. I also

think that fame goes to the already famous in a way that’s unfair and

that undermines meritocracy in the university. This would be a good subject

for a serious philosophical article, I believe.

Brian Barry on inequality

Brian

Barry spoke at Maryland on Friday, making a good old-fashioned case

for economic equality. He cited the following statistics as evidence that

we do not have much social mobility in the US: If you are a male

born in the poorest tenth of the population, you have only a 1.3 percent

chance of reaching the top ten percent during your lifetime, and just

a 3.7 percent chance of becoming at all wealthy (in the top fifth). If

you are born in the bottom tenth, the odds are more than even that you

will never make it out of the bottom fifth. Barry’s source is Samuel Bowles

and Herbert Gintis, "The Inheritance of Inequality," Journal

of Economic Perspectives 16 (2002) 3 – 30, p. 3.

legacy preferences

At a seminar today, some colleagues and I discussed Senator John Edwards’

proposal

to eliminate the preference for "legacies" (children

of alumni) in college admissions. Some people are saying that legacy preferences

are on the same footing with affirmative action for racial minorities

and women. If we ban affirmative action as a form of discrimination that

undermines meritocracy, we should ban legacy admissions as well. If we

keep one, we may (or must) keep the other. A third problematic policy

is the preference that public universities often give to in-state students.

Isn’t it discriminatory for UC Berkeley to prefer Californians?

(It is worth noting that being denied admission to Harvard because one’s

place went to a "legacy" is not a tragedy—there are many

other fine schools. Being denied admission or financial aid at Michigan

because one lives in Kentucky is at least as unfair.)

I think this issue is fairly complicated. First, there are practical

considerations. Presumably a policy banning legacy preferences would cause

at least some rich alumni to curtail their contributions, thus removing

some financial support from scholarship and education. Likewise, a policy

banning in-state preferences could lead states to withdraw support from

their own colleges. However, either or both of these fears might turn

out to be unwarranted.

If one justifies legacy preferences mainly on practical, economic grounds,

then it doesn’t make sense to prefer the children of alumni who have never

contributed anything to a college. Yet most colleges deny that they prefer

donors’ children; that would be too crass. Implicitly, their argument

seems to rest on freedom of association and the value of preserving their

membership as a community over time.

Private universities probably have a right as associations to prefer

their own members (alumni, staff, and current students). That doesn’t

make a legacy policy morally admirable, however. It certainly has the

disadvantage of preserving a heriditary elite and undermining meritocratic

competition. Thus we might want to use the leverage of federal funding

to discourage such preferences. On the other hand, maybe it is admirable

to build community bonds within private associations. In that case, is

it equally acceptable for states to treat themselves as exclusive communities

that prefer their own citizens? Should federal policy allow or discourage

this?

why Dante damned Francesca da Rimini

I looked at statistics for this site recently and was surprised to see

that the most popular search terms that take people here include "Dante,"

"Paolo," "Francesca," and "Inferno." I am

surprised because I think of myself as a civics, democracy, and political-reform

guy; I have not contributed much to the study of Dante, and this website

certainly doesn’t offer much on the topic (beyond the one page

about my ongoing Dante project). Today, however, I posted one of my

published Dante articles, and I will add more soon—all in the interests

of serving my audience.

In "Why

Dante Damned Francesca da Rimini," I argue that there are

two explanations for Dante’s decision to place Francesca in Hell (even

though her real-life nephew was his patron and benefactor). First, he

may have sympathized with this fellow lover of poetry who tells her own

sad story so movingly, but he realized that she had committed the mortal

sin of adultery. Thus he damned her because his philosophical reason told

him that she was guilty, and he wanted to suggest that moral reasoning

is a safer guide than stories and the emotions that they provoke. For

the same reason, the whole Divine Comedy moves from emotional,

first-person, concrete narrative toward abstract universal truth as Dante

ascends from Hell to Heaven.

But there is also another,

subtler reason for his decision. Francesca loves poetry, but she reads

it badly. Her speech is a tissue of quotations from ancient and medieval

literature, but every one is inaccurate. In general, she takes difficult,

complex texts and misreads them as simple cliches that justify her own

behavior. Meanwhile, she says nothing about her lover or her husband—not

even their names—which suggests that she cannot "read"

them well or recall their stories. Her failure as a reader suggests

that Dante was not necessarily against poetry and in favor of philosophical

reason. Instead, perhaps he wanted to point out some specific moral pitfalls

involved in careless reading.