The way that we can resolve values vs. errors is by endorsing symmetries.
For example, Rawl’s “veil of ignorance” enjoins us to design a society, on the assumption that we might be anyone in that society—we might have any degree of talent or disability, any taste or preferences, and so on. This is permutation symmetry.
If we have two situations that we believe are exactly analogous (for example, the trolley car problem and a similar problem with a subway car), then we call any systematic difference in our human intuitions an error, and we choose one of the two intuitions to endorse as applying to both cases. (I don’t know that people systematically differ in their survey responses to questions about trolley car problems vs. subway car problems, but I wouldn’t be surprised.)
In forming a notion of values and errors, we are choosing a priority order among various symmetries and various human intuitions. Utilitarians prioritize the analogy between flipping the switch and pushing the fat man over the intuition that we should not push the fat man.
That’s a good idea. I wonder if anyone has done a trolley-problem survey, phrasing it in the terms, “Would you rather live in a society where people would do X or Y?”
For one data point, I’d rather live in a world where people made ‘push the fat man’ decisions. As per Lightwave’s comment, if the likelihoods are not skewed, I have a 5⁄6 chance of being on the tracks, and a 1⁄6 chance of being the fat man. I can’t in good conscience choose the option that doesn’t maximise my chances of survival.
“Would you rather live in a society where people would do X or Y?”
This is, however, not the question anybody really faces. It is, for sure, the question that we are often asked to face when doing moral and political philosophy. Kant’s “categorical imperative” is similar (via Wpedia):
“Act only according to that maxim whereby you can, at the same time, will that it should become a universal law.”
But the reality is that our individual acts do not automatically become universal laws. We really do not get to choose our society from among all possible societies (at best, we get to choose from the much narrower range of actual societies). These imagined shortcuts are attractive to the impatient philosopher who wishes to retrace ten thousand years of development with a single thought, and who fancies that he can do better with these mental shortcuts, but they have little to do with reality, which renders their results of dubious value.
Very few people have been anywhere near to a position in which they can choose their society. And the ones near that position—such as the supposedly most powerful man in the world (currently Obama) are themselves highly constrained in what they are able to do and what they are inclined to do given their incentives, so that the result is not much like choosing what society they want to live in. Even absolute dictators such as Castro and Kim Jong-Il, while I’m sure they’re taking care of themselves (which is all they ultimately seem to care about), probably have not built anything like the societies they dreamed of building. The incomplete Ryugyong Hotel stands as a symbol of the gulf between their aspirations and the reality of what they produced.
The choices that we all do have are local and concrete, and our local and concrete answers to these questions are, in aggregate, I think the most powerful factor shaping custom and morality, though they do it slowly, as the Colorado River carved the Grand Canyon.
There are, however, mental toolboxes which provide shortcuts for possibly understanding and anticipating the outcome of long years of past and future societal evolution. Economics and game theory are two of these. These two fields are specifically intended to understand what eventually happens when large numbers of people with their diverse agendas interact. These are, I think, our best general theories of social phenomena such as custom and morality.
I have to respectfully disagree with your position. Kant’s point, and the point of similar people who make the sweeping universalizations that you dislike, is that it is only in such idealized circumstances that we can make rational decisions. What makes a decision good or bad is whether it would be the decision rational people would endorse in a perfect society.
The trouble is not moving from our flawed world to an ideal world. The trouble is taking the lesson we’ve learned from considering the ideal world and applying it to the flawed world. Kant’s program is widely considered to be a failure because it fails to provide real guidelines for the real world.
Basically, my point is that asking the Rawlsian “Would you prefer to live in a society where people do X” is valid. However, one may answer that question with “yes” and still rationally refrain from doing X. So your general point, that local and concrete decisions rule the day, still stands. Personally, though, I try to approach local and concrete decisions the way that Rawls does.
What makes a decision good or bad is whether it would be the decision rational people would endorse in a perfect society.
I actually happen to think that human morality is a fit topic for empirical inquiry, same as human language. This is a wildly different approach from either the Kantian or the Rawlsian approach. To study English, we look at the actual practices and we (possibly) develop hypotheses about the development of English and of language in general. What we do not do—in an empirical study of English—is ask ourselves what grammar, what pronunciation, what meanings we would prefer in a perfect society. Such questions are what the creators of Esperanto asked themselves (I presume). Kant and Rawls are trying to do the moral equivalent of inventing Esperanto. I, in contrast, think that morality is something that, like English and French, already exists in the world, possibly varying a bit from place to place.
I realize that Kant and Rawls seek to critique our actual practices. It may seem puzzling for me to say so since I just explained my preferred approach as empirical, but so do I. But I do so from a different direction. Just as linguists will distinguish between natural language as it arises spontaneously among speakers, and the pedantic rules endorsed by language mavens, so do I distinguish between morality as it would arise spontaneously among people, and the laws raised over us by legislatures.
I think this is the way that a lot of philosophy is done. Identifying symmetries in order to attach more to your intuition pumps. (By the way, great response! It’s the only one that directly addresses the main issue raised in the article, as of May 2012.)
The way that we can resolve values vs. errors is by endorsing symmetries.
For example, Rawl’s “veil of ignorance” enjoins us to design a society, on the assumption that we might be anyone in that society—we might have any degree of talent or disability, any taste or preferences, and so on. This is permutation symmetry.
If we have two situations that we believe are exactly analogous (for example, the trolley car problem and a similar problem with a subway car), then we call any systematic difference in our human intuitions an error, and we choose one of the two intuitions to endorse as applying to both cases. (I don’t know that people systematically differ in their survey responses to questions about trolley car problems vs. subway car problems, but I wouldn’t be surprised.)
In forming a notion of values and errors, we are choosing a priority order among various symmetries and various human intuitions. Utilitarians prioritize the analogy between flipping the switch and pushing the fat man over the intuition that we should not push the fat man.
That’s a good idea. I wonder if anyone has done a trolley-problem survey, phrasing it in the terms, “Would you rather live in a society where people would do X or Y?”
For one data point, I’d rather live in a world where people made ‘push the fat man’ decisions. As per Lightwave’s comment, if the likelihoods are not skewed, I have a 5⁄6 chance of being on the tracks, and a 1⁄6 chance of being the fat man. I can’t in good conscience choose the option that doesn’t maximise my chances of survival.
I don’t know if anyone’s done the survey, but it’s a very interesting question.
In other words, I’m not sure how I’d answer it.
This is, however, not the question anybody really faces. It is, for sure, the question that we are often asked to face when doing moral and political philosophy. Kant’s “categorical imperative” is similar (via Wpedia):
But the reality is that our individual acts do not automatically become universal laws. We really do not get to choose our society from among all possible societies (at best, we get to choose from the much narrower range of actual societies). These imagined shortcuts are attractive to the impatient philosopher who wishes to retrace ten thousand years of development with a single thought, and who fancies that he can do better with these mental shortcuts, but they have little to do with reality, which renders their results of dubious value.
Very few people have been anywhere near to a position in which they can choose their society. And the ones near that position—such as the supposedly most powerful man in the world (currently Obama) are themselves highly constrained in what they are able to do and what they are inclined to do given their incentives, so that the result is not much like choosing what society they want to live in. Even absolute dictators such as Castro and Kim Jong-Il, while I’m sure they’re taking care of themselves (which is all they ultimately seem to care about), probably have not built anything like the societies they dreamed of building. The incomplete Ryugyong Hotel stands as a symbol of the gulf between their aspirations and the reality of what they produced.
The choices that we all do have are local and concrete, and our local and concrete answers to these questions are, in aggregate, I think the most powerful factor shaping custom and morality, though they do it slowly, as the Colorado River carved the Grand Canyon.
There are, however, mental toolboxes which provide shortcuts for possibly understanding and anticipating the outcome of long years of past and future societal evolution. Economics and game theory are two of these. These two fields are specifically intended to understand what eventually happens when large numbers of people with their diverse agendas interact. These are, I think, our best general theories of social phenomena such as custom and morality.
I have to respectfully disagree with your position. Kant’s point, and the point of similar people who make the sweeping universalizations that you dislike, is that it is only in such idealized circumstances that we can make rational decisions. What makes a decision good or bad is whether it would be the decision rational people would endorse in a perfect society.
The trouble is not moving from our flawed world to an ideal world. The trouble is taking the lesson we’ve learned from considering the ideal world and applying it to the flawed world. Kant’s program is widely considered to be a failure because it fails to provide real guidelines for the real world.
Basically, my point is that asking the Rawlsian “Would you prefer to live in a society where people do X” is valid. However, one may answer that question with “yes” and still rationally refrain from doing X. So your general point, that local and concrete decisions rule the day, still stands. Personally, though, I try to approach local and concrete decisions the way that Rawls does.
I actually happen to think that human morality is a fit topic for empirical inquiry, same as human language. This is a wildly different approach from either the Kantian or the Rawlsian approach. To study English, we look at the actual practices and we (possibly) develop hypotheses about the development of English and of language in general. What we do not do—in an empirical study of English—is ask ourselves what grammar, what pronunciation, what meanings we would prefer in a perfect society. Such questions are what the creators of Esperanto asked themselves (I presume). Kant and Rawls are trying to do the moral equivalent of inventing Esperanto. I, in contrast, think that morality is something that, like English and French, already exists in the world, possibly varying a bit from place to place.
I realize that Kant and Rawls seek to critique our actual practices. It may seem puzzling for me to say so since I just explained my preferred approach as empirical, but so do I. But I do so from a different direction. Just as linguists will distinguish between natural language as it arises spontaneously among speakers, and the pedantic rules endorsed by language mavens, so do I distinguish between morality as it would arise spontaneously among people, and the laws raised over us by legislatures.
I think this is the way that a lot of philosophy is done. Identifying symmetries in order to attach more to your intuition pumps. (By the way, great response! It’s the only one that directly addresses the main issue raised in the article, as of May 2012.)