Why does it appear to make sense to wonder if we are valuing the right things, when Good is just whatever we value?
We are in the habit of (and reinforced for) asking certain questions about actual real-world things. “Is the food I’m eating good food?” “Is the wood I’m building my house out of good wood?” “Is the exercise program I’m starting a good exercise program?” Etc. In each case, we have some notion of what we mean by the question that grounds out in some notion of our values… that is, in what we want food, housing materials, and exercise programs to achieve.
We continue to apply that habitual formula even in cases where we’re not very clear what those values are, what we want those things to achieve. “Is democracy a good political system?” is a compelling-sounding question even for people who lack a clear understanding of what their political values are; “Is Christianity a good religion?” feels like a meaningful question to many people who don’t have a clear notion of what they want a religion to achieve.
That we continue to apply the same formula to get the question “Are the values I’m using good values?” should not surprise us; I would expect us to ask it and for it to feel meaningful whether it actually makes sense or not.
But when you ask a question and someone provides an answer you don’t like, showing why that answer is wrong can sometimes be more effective than simply asserting that you don’t buy it.
And any theory can be made to fail if I am allowed to demand that it explain things that don’t actually exist.
So it seems to matter whether the thing I’m dismissing exists or not.
Regardless, all of this is a tangent from my point.
You asked “Why does it appear to make sense to wonder if we are valuing the right things?” as a rhetorical question, as a way of arguing that it appears to make sense because it does make sense, because the question of whether our values are right is non-empty. My point is that this is not actually why it appears to make sense; it would appear to make sense even if the question of whether our values are right were empty.
That is not proof that the question is empty, of course. All it demonstrates is that one of your arguments in defense of its non-emptiness is flawed.
You will probably do better to accept that and marshall your remaining argument-soldiers to a victorious campaign on other fronts.
We are in the habit of (and reinforced for) asking certain questions about actual real-world things. “Is the food I’m eating good food?” “Is the wood I’m building my house out of good wood?” “Is the exercise program I’m starting a good exercise program?” Etc. In each case, we have some notion of what we mean by the question that grounds out in some notion of our values… that is, in what we want food, housing materials, and exercise programs to achieve.
We continue to apply that habitual formula even in cases where we’re not very clear what those values are, what we want those things to achieve. “Is democracy a good political system?” is a compelling-sounding question even for people who lack a clear understanding of what their political values are; “Is Christianity a good religion?” feels like a meaningful question to many people who don’t have a clear notion of what they want a religion to achieve.
That we continue to apply the same formula to get the question “Are the values I’m using good values?” should not surprise us; I would expect us to ask it and for it to feel meaningful whether it actually makes sense or not.
You can argue that the things your theory can’t explain are non-issues. I don’t have to buy that,
You certainly don’t have to buy it, that’s true.
But when you ask a question and someone provides an answer you don’t like, showing why that answer is wrong can sometimes be more effective than simply asserting that you don’t buy it.
The problem is a kind of quodlibet. Any inadequate theory can be made to work if one is allowed to dismiss whatever the theory can’t explain.
Sure, I agree.
And any theory can be made to fail if I am allowed to demand that it explain things that don’t actually exist.
So it seems to matter whether the thing I’m dismissing exists or not.
Regardless, all of this is a tangent from my point.
You asked “Why does it appear to make sense to wonder if we are valuing the right things?” as a rhetorical question, as a way of arguing that it appears to make sense because it does make sense, because the question of whether our values are right is non-empty. My point is that this is not actually why it appears to make sense; it would appear to make sense even if the question of whether our values are right were empty.
That is not proof that the question is empty, of course. All it demonstrates is that one of your arguments in defense of its non-emptiness is flawed.
You will probably do better to accept that and marshall your remaining argument-soldiers to a victorious campaign on other fronts.
Non-emptiness is no more flawed than emptiness. The Open Question remains open.
This is a nonsequitor. My claim was about a specific argument.