Preface
1. Protagoras and Plato: Moral Skepticism vs. Moral Realism
2. Aristotle’s Virtue Theory
3. Natural Law: Aquinas’s Intellectualism vs. Ockham’s Voluntarism
4. Hobbes’s Social Contract Theory
5. Pufendorf and Locke: Duties and Rights
6. Clarke and Hume: Moral Reason vs. Moral Feeling
7. Kant’s Categorical Imperative
8. Mill and the Utilitarian Tradition
9. Spencer and Moore: Evolutionary Ethics and the Naturalistic Fallacy
10. Emotivism and Prescriptivism
11. Baier’s Best Reasons Ethics and Applied Ethics
12. Moral Personhood
13. Conclusion
 

The subject of moral philosophy involves systematizing, defending, and recommending concepts of right and wrong behavior. The subject is filled with paradoxes. On the one hand, it is among the most interesting areas of inquiry, touching on controversial issues such as abortion, capital punishment, and homosexuality. On the other hand, many of the conceptual distinctions drawn in ethical theories are so tedious that studying them is a chore. Moral philosophy also seems to be one of the more important subjects that we can investigate since the survival of society depends on our ability to recognize each other’s moral boundaries. On the other hand, moral behavior becomes second nature to us by the time we’re adults, and it doesn’t matter much whether we study ethical theories or not. The die has already been cast, our moral attitudes are fixed, and reading detailed theories about morality will probably not change the moral views we’ve already acquired. So, we might be inclined to just set aside a formal study of ethics and rely on our gut feelings.

But, then, situations arise that challenge our moral conceptions and force us to carefully think through the issues. I might consider removing life support from a terminally ill relative. I might look at the hamburger on my plate and wonder what the difference is between eating the hamburger and eating the family pet. When reflecting on these situations, I am only one or two follow up questions away from needing moral theories. Is it morally relevant whether caring for a sick relative is a hardship on the family? What features must a living organism possess to have a right to life? To what extent are my moral beliefs about eating cows a matter of cultural upbringing? Life doesn’t require us to ask and answer these more philosophical ethical questions, but we often can’t help it. We are sometimes curious, or intellectually restless, or simply dissatisfied with stock explanations that people give us for why we must behave in specific ways. So, we think more philosophically about moral issues and we find insight in classic philosophical writings on the subject. As far back in civilization as we find writing, we also find people struggling with ethical questions. At one point in Western civilization -- about 600 BCE -- philosophers began offering theories that clarified the source and content of our moral obligations. This book traces some of the major themes that have emerged in the history of Western moral philosophy, from the earliest days to the present.

General books in ethics are either structured topically, focusing on major themes and issues, or they are structured historically, presenting a chronological sequence of theories by the great moral philosophers of the past. In the last 100 years, though, most have been topical. There are a few reasons for the scarcity of historical approaches. First, historical approaches are challenging to write since an author must research and accurately interpret a wide range of historical texts. What an author writes about Aristotle and Kant, for example, must pass the inspection of scholars who specialize in Aristotle and Kant. With topical approaches, by contrast, there is more leeway in presenting, for example, a revised Aristotelian virtue theory, or a Kantian inspired duty theory. Second, historical approaches are often more tedious to read since they involve fine points of textual analysis and specialized definitions. In topical approaches, much of the picky details of a philosopher’s theory can be set aside. Third, because historical discussions devote so much space to explaining the details of classic texts, historical discussions frequently have less lasting impact on one’s larger understanding of moral philosophy.

Nevertheless, there are several drawbacks to the alternative topically arranged ethics texts. First, by de-emphasizing textual analysis, topically arranged ethics books often present theories that no philosopher actually ever proposed, such as standard accounts of moral relativism, psychological egoism and moral skepticism. Second, throughout topically arranged texts, authors invariably refer to historical periods in which specific philosophers wrote. Although it is clear the historical sequence of ideas is important, it is difficult to reconstruct that sequence from the topical information presented. Finally, topical discussions are themselves historically formed and reflect the dominant ethical theories during a given time slice. For example, if we compared John Bruce’s Elements of the Science of Ethics (1786) with James Rachel’s Elements of Moral Philosophy (1986), we might see them as being about almost completely different subjects. Although there are also differences between older and more recent historical surveys of ethics, we can recognize more points of agreement since they at least discuss many of the same classic authors.

This book takes a middle ground between the historical and topical approaches. Although historically sequenced, each chapter covers a specific topic in ethics, such as virtue theory or social contract theory, which dominated ethical discussions at a specific point in history. Although the book includes textual analysis of classic writings, it also places emphasis on the themes in those writings that we find most interesting today. Much of this book includes criticisms of the classic theories. In keeping with an historical orientation, many of the criticisms are those offered by contemporaries of the original theorists. In keeping with a topical slant, current criticisms and revisions are also included in the chapters.

The chapters in this book are conceptually self-contained, which allows them to be read in any order. To achieve the full benefit of their historical sequence, though, they should be read in the order presented. When possible, the sections and subsections of the chapters are also unified discussions. So, a reader who skips some sections will not necessarily be at a loss to understand the remaining sections.

In the early 20^th century journalist Robert L. Ripley traveled around the world gathering stories of strange rituals, which he published in his popular column "Believe it or Not." Our fascination with bizarre practices of other cultures is no less prominent today. Some foreign practices amuse us, such as that of Japanese men who tattoo their entire bodies. Others make us squeamish, such as the Latin American culinary practices of eating handfuls of live bugs in tortillas. However, other foreign cultural practices make us morally indignant. One such practice is female genital mutilation, which is common in east African countries and parts of the Near East. This practice involves removing portions of a young girl's genitals, including here clitoris and labia. Social scientists estimate that over 100 million women alive today have had this operation performed. An article published by UNICEF describes the situation for one six-year-old girl and her sympathetic aunt:

Another shocking practice is that of female infanticide which involves systematically killing female infants through neglect, poisoning or other means. In many countries such as India female children are valued less than male children, and female infanticide is common because of the great expenses involved in arranging a daughter’s marriage. In some cases debts from a young woman’s marriage dowry would be passed from generation to generation until finally paid in full by the woman’s grandchildren. For this reason, the birth of a son is cause for celebration, and that of a daughter is cause for sorrow. The widespread nature of female infanticide in India was first noted in the early 19^th century when population surveys showed that some tribes had four times as many infant boys than girls within a given age range. Although the Indian government outlawed the practice and Hindu religious officials condemned it, the practice continues even today. A related practice involves selectively aborting female fetuses after prenatal gender tests. Indian population surveys show that for every 1000 males that are born, only 922 females are born. Over 80% of abortions in Bombay involved females.

In the United States, we find the practices of female genital mutilation and female infanticide grossly immoral. They are not only illegal, but there is widespread public outcry against other cultures that endorse them. However, while we attack the practice of female genital mutilation, for example, east African defenders of this practice charge that American culture has degenerated to the point that promiscuity, infidelity, and childbirth outside of marriage are acceptable behaviors. By guarding against such sexual misconduct, their culture, so they claim, is on morally higher ground. From a philosophical perspective, these foreign practices directly challenge our traditionally held moral views and they make us wonder whether their morality/immorality reduces to mere social convention.

Moral Skepticism and Moral Realism. For centuries, moral philosophers have reflected on the philosophical problems raised by clashing social values. The principal question raised is whether moral values exist independently of human social creations. Moral skepticism is the view that moral principles have no objective foundation independent of human society. Instead, the moral grounding of a particular cultural practice rests within that culture itself. Societies create their own traditions, pass them along from one generation to another, and continually reinforce them through rewards and punishments. It makes no sense to look for a foundation of morality outside one’s societal context. This is so for the east African practice of female genital mutilation as well as the American condemnation of this practice.

By contrast, moral realism is the position that moral principles have an objective or real foundation, and are not subjectively based on human convention and traditions advocated by a particular culture. Moral realists distinguish between de facto values and ideal morality. De facto values concern the way people in fact behave, and the values that are actually in place in a given culture. Ideal morality, on the other hand, concerns the way people should behave, irrespective of their actual behavior. For moral realists, genuine morality is a question of ideal morality. For example, even if female genital mutilation was unanimously endorsed by a given culture for hundreds of years, the question still remains as to whether this de facto value is a proper one. The same can also be said of even the most basic values in our own society, such as prohibitions against lying, stealing and murder. Appealing to social norms is no indicator of whether a practice is in fact moral or immoral.

The debate between moral skepticism and moral realism is one of the first discussions in Western moral philosophy. Originating in ancient Greece, Protagoras advanced the skeptical view, and Plato defended the realist view.

PROTAGORAS AND MORAL SKEPTICISM. A special need for education arose throughout the Greek city-states in the 5^th century BCE. More government administrators were needed and, to fill the void, aristocratic parents hired freelance philosophers to educate their sons for this task. Although not members of any particular philosophical school of thought, these teachers were collectively known as Sophists, a term which means "one who professes to make people wise." Although many Sophists claimed the ability to teach any subject, their specialization was rhetorical skills, particularly the kind of arguing and persuasive speaking techniques needed in public debates. Unlike previous philosophers, they charged a fee for their services and wandered around the Greek city-states looking for clients. In spite of their much-needed contribution to Greek societies, Sophists were not held in high regard. One reason is that the quick fix they provided for education ran contrary to previous expectations about proper education. Whether the skill was stone cutting, engineering, or government administration, a child was expected to be a long-term apprentice to a seasoned master. The personal integrity of the master was a key factor, and he was usually an active member of the community as well as a friend of the parents. By contrast, the Sophists wandered into town offering to teach the technical skills of various disciplines for a fee, and without the personal and community involvement of the usual masters.

The Sophists had a skeptical attitude toward the pursuit of truth and, by and large, maintained that in many areas of inquiry, truth is only a matter of persuasive argumentation. The true position in a debate is the winning position. To this end, they offered an argument strategy called "antilogic" which involved learning to argue both sides of a case as strongly as possible. Using this technique, students could make the weaker argument become the stronger. With their flexible attitudes toward truth, the Sophists participated in a larger intellectual debate among Greek writers concerning whether the gods, society, and morality exist as a matter of social custom (nomos) or as a matter of nature (phusis). The more skeptically minded Sophists placed emphasis on custom as the source of moral values and political stability.

Protagoras’s Theory. One of the more skeptical Sophists was Protagoras (490-410 BCE) who encapsulated the attitude of the Sophists in his famous statement, "People are the measure of all things." Scholars debate about the exact meaning of this sentence, but many hold that "people" refers to individual humans, rather than humanity as a collection. In its longer and less familiar form, Protagoras’s claim is this:
 

For Protagoras, this same relativism applies to morality. We all have our own perceptions about what things are good, evil, just and unjust. We can also defend our views with arguments. In this sense, each of our respective moral views is true. However, these views are not all equally beneficial. If I say that stealing is morally permissible, this may be a true perception on my part, but it isn’t particularly beneficial if it places me in jail or undermines social order. In view of the importance that Protagoras places on practical benefit, his notion of moral truth is all but useless. Protagoras claimed that he could teach moral virtue (arete), just as he could other skills. The moral virtue he taught, then, involved those values that contained the most practical benefit.

Only fragments of Protagoras’s original writings survive and we are left to speculate about why he abandons objective moral truth in favor of practical moral benefit. We may find one explanation in his views on religious skepticism:
 

What, though, determines whether one moral view has more practical benefit than another? For Protagoras, as well as other Sophists, the two contending possibilities are (1) nature (phusis), or (2) social custom (nomos). Using an allegory, Protagoras explains that social custom reinforces some moral values over others, thereby giving them a greater practical benefit. According to Protagoras, when humans were first formed, the god Prometheus gave us the skills of fire so that we could feed and clothe ourselves. Although we succeeded in these things, we ran around as isolated individuals without any ability to form social units and protect ourselves from wild animals. Observing this, the god Zeus then gave each of us a sense of shame (aidos) and justice (dike), which prompted us to form friendships and thereby live in communities. Protagoras continues that to keep the communities intact, the communities themselves must create social customs (nomos) that reinforce specific moral values through education and punishment. The practical benefit of one moral value versus another, then, is linked with social custom.

In summary, these are the main points of Protagoras’s moral skepticism:
 

• There is no ultimate moral truth
• Our individual moral views are equally true
• The practical benefit of our moral values is more important than their truth
• The practical benefit of moral values is a function of social custom rather than nature

The Argument from Cultural Variation. Historians of philosophy speculate that Sophists such as Protagoras were moral skeptics since they traveled widely throughout the Greek world and observed a variety of cultural practices that varied from city-state to city-state. Presumably, the easiest explanation for this variation was that each city-state created its own set of values that served its own particular needs. This seemed more intuitive than the alternative view that there is an objective basis of morality that directs our cultural practices. This intuition can be expressed more formally in the argument here:

Critics of moral skepticism point out two main flaws with this argument. First, some critics challenge premise (1) above, maintaining that there is less variation than there first seems. Although it is true that many values do vary from culture to culture, many of these values are not truly moral in nature and would be better classified as rules of prudence. Examples include rules requiring women to cover their breasts in public and rules about tattooing and body piercing. By contrast, there are in fact several genuine moral values that are cross-cultural. According to contemporary philosopher James Rachels, three such values are caring for children, truth telling, and prohibitions against murder. For Rachels, these are all necessary conditions for the survival of a society. If a society consistently violated any one of these it would disintegrate.

A second criticism of the argument from cultural variation is to challenge premise (3) by offering a cogent explanation as to how differing cultural values might be grounded in an objective reality. Even if values do vary throughout time and from place to place, there still might be an underlying ideal morality that all these cultures simply ignore. The whole lot of these cultures might simply be corrupt. According to critics, our particular moral beliefs might become distorted as we try to perceive objective value through our diverse cultures. So, if I believe that polygamy is immoral and my friend from Saudi Arabia believes polygamy is moral, then at least one of us, and perhaps both, might have a distorted understanding of objective morality.

Even if the argument from variation fails as a proof for moral skepticism, this is no great loss. The issue of variability isn’t the core issue behind the dispute. For, even if all cultures throughout time endorsed a particular value, such as "murder is wrong," skeptics could still argue that this value is grounded in societal traditions and is not based on an ideal morality. There may be common factors that prompt societies to create similar values, such as prohibitions against murder. But this doesn’t make these values any less social creations.

PLATO AND MORAL REALISM. One of the earliest and strongest theories of moral realism was offered by the great philosopher Plato (428-348 BCE). Plato was well aware of the skeptical arguments of the Sophists, and in fact Plato provides the most detailed surviving account of Protagoras’s views. Nevertheless Plato felt that Protagoras was profoundly mistaken about the nature of truth and moral values.

Plato’s Theory of the Forms. Plato’s moral theory is an extension of his larger philosophical position, which is called the theory of the forms. In his book the Republic Plato explains that the universe is divided into two realms. First there is a visible world of appearances, which contains physical objects such as rocks, chairs, cars, and people. Second, there is an intelligible world of the forms, which contains universal abstract objects, such as mathematical principles, the universal color of blue, and the universal shape of roundness. These abstract objects have a spirit-like existence and are completely distinct from the imperfect realm of physical things. Moral values also belong to the realm of the forms and thus exist in a spirit-like state. To put Plato’s theory in its best light, imagine that we took a tour of heaven – assuming that such a place exists. We first see that heaven itself is a spiritual realm that consists of purely spiritual beings. There are no beings with physical bodies, and, perhaps not even any three-dimensional beings. Looking around, we encounter the spirits of dead humans, spirits of saints and heroes, angelic spirits, and even God himself who is purely spiritual. Suppose that we further look around heaven and find a room filled with mathematical relations such as 1+1=2. Although these aren’t conscious spirits, they are nevertheless spiritual substances and they are unchanging and permanent. We might think of these as eternal mathematical laws. For Plato, these are mathematical forms. Looking further, we find another room containing other spiritual substances, such as the spiritual essence of chairs, the spiritual essence of wooden things, and the spiritual essence of the color brown. For Plato, these are the pure forms of physical things; they are almost infinite in number and include the forms of chairness, woodenness, brownness, dogness and even dirtness. Finally we stumble on a room that contains the spiritual essence of moral concepts such as charity, honesty, beauty, and justice. For Plato, these are the pure forms of moral traits that people have.

Returning to the physical world, we look around and see particular objects, such as the brown wooden chair on which I am sitting. For Plato, these physical things are all imperfectly molded from the forms of the perfect spiritual entities that reside in the heavenly realm. In Plato’s terminology, the particular wooden chair that I’m sitting on participates (methexis) in several abstract forms, such as brownness, woodenness and chairness. For Plato, the particular chairs are merely appearances, and the forms are reality. In pursuing truth and knowledge, we should reject the distorted world of appearances and look to the realm of the forms. On earth, we can only access these forms through thought, and not through sense perception. Plato describes this as a recollecting process (anamnesis): in a previous heavenly life we were directly acquainted with all the forms but the trauma of physical birth suppressed our knowledge of them.

For Plato, we come to understand moral truths the same way that we understand any other truth: we rationally recollect the moral forms. Morality, then, isn’t at all a matter of social custom as Protagoras argued, since social custom is a byproduct of the changing world of appearances. Instead, for Plato, morality is grounded in the objective and unchanging moral forms such as charity, honesty, beauty, and justice. The charitable person, for example, participates in -- or molds himself after -- the form of charity. Briefly, these are the key points of Plato’s moral theory:

• Moral values are eternal, unchanging and spiritual forms
• Moral truth is found in the realm of the forms, and not in the social conventions of the world of appearances
• People become moral by participating in the moral forms
• We gain moral knowledge by rationally recollecting the moral forms

With some modification in terminology, Plato’s account of morality became the blueprint for many, if not most, succeeding versions of moral realism. The clumsy language of the "forms" and "recollection" was abandoned for more intuitive notions. For example, 18^th century British philosopher Samuel Clarke (1675-1729) argued that moral values are eternal and unchanging relations, similar to mathematical relations. Like mathematics, moral values were not created by God and can’t even be changed by God. Also like mathematics, we understand these moral values intuitively by use of our rational faculty.

Criticisms of Plato’s Theory. From Plato’s own day to the present, critics have exposed problems with various aspects of his theory. Shortly after his death, Plato’s pupil Aristotle launched a series of attacks against the Platonic theory of the forms in general, and Plato’s moral theory in particular. Let’s look at two of Aristotle’s criticisms. First, Aristotle argues that participation is the key notion of the theory of the forms, but nowhere does Plato explain participation. With charity, for example, I am a charitable person to the degree that I participate in the form of charity. But Plato neither defines participation, nor offers a procedure according to which things in the world of appearances can mimic this form. Second, Aristotle argues that introducing the idea of the forms doesn’t clarify the nature of an object, but simply confuses things by introducing more concepts. Suppose that I want to better understand the notion of charity and I read in Plato that the true nature of charity rests in the form of charity. Not only does this fail to advance my understanding of charity, it clutters my discussion with unneeded metaphysical entities. The medieval philosopher William of Ockham (d. 1347) recommended that we should avoid multiplying entities beyond what we actually need. Known more popularly as "Ockham’s Razor," Ockham recommends that we stick with our most metaphysically simple explanation. Aristotle anticipates Ockham’s recommendation by pointing out that Plato’s account of the forms merely adds metaphysical baggage.

Mackie presents a third important criticism of Plato’s moral realism. For Mackie, there is some "queer," or counterintuitive aspect of any description one might give of an objective moral realm, such as the realm of the forms. There are three distinct points to Mackie’s argument. First, there is a metaphysical problem, or a problem based on the strange spirit-like realm that Plato advocates. Where is this realm? How many dimensions does it have? Mackie argues that the strangeness of this realm alone is an argument against its existence. Second, there is a relational problem since it isn’t clear how this peculiar, non-natural realm has any connection with natural objects and human actions. Using Plato's terminology, it isn’t clear how a spirit-like realm of the forms could affect the natural world of appearances: the two realms are too distinct. Third, there is an epistemological problem, that is, a problem with how we gain knowledge of these spirit-like things. We gain knowledge of the physical world through our five senses. But by what faculty do we gain knowledge of this spirit-like realm? Plato says that it involves a faculty of rational recollection, similar to our memory faculty. However, few of us would acknowledge the existence of this type of recollective faculty. Even if we say that it is some kind of rational faculty, this presumes that it is like a mental eyeball that peers into another realm. It doesn’t seem as though we have this kind of mental faculty either.

A fourth and final argument offered by Mackie is based on a psychological explanation for why people actually believe there are objective values of any kind. According to Mackie, people have a natural tendency to objectify values that are actually subjective in origin. For example, if I smell a rotten orange and it disgusts me, I automatically think that the rotten orange itself is disgusting in nature. Clearly, though, the element of disgust is a subjective quality pertaining to my reaction, and isn’t really a feature of the orange itself. I erroneously project the quality of disgust onto the orange. One reason that we make this mistake is because something is in fact external, namely, the orange itself. We then mistakenly think that everything pertaining to the orange is also external. The same psychological projection takes place with moral values. Society places external constraints on me to behave morally, such as society's demand that I shouldn’t run around naked. This societal demand itself is actually external to me; that is, I did not invent this myself. Since this societal demand is external, I then erroneously think that everything about the demand is external, including the moral value in question, such as "it is wrong to run around naked in public." Mackie concludes that it is more reasonable to adopt this psychological projection theory rather than the alternative view that moral values have a genuine external existence in a form-like realm.

MORAL SKEPTICISM AT ITS BEST. As a rule of thumb, a position of skepticism is philosophically more safe and justifiable than alternative theories that assert the existence of something beyond our immediate perception. This rule applies to the present dispute between Plato, who believed in objective moral principles, and Protagoras, who denied this. The cautious philosopher, then, will follow Protagoras rather than Plato. However, the term "skepticism" has a negative connotation and people might reject skepticism on the basis of the name alone. To offset this stigma, let’s say more in defense of moral skepticism.

Shifting Moral Paradigms. As recently as the 18^th century, moral philosophers actively endorsed Plato’s moral realism. Samuel Clarke, mentioned above, is one example. Another is Catherine Macaulay who describes Platonic moral realism here:

Platonic moral realism appears to be the victim of a paradigm shift. Although philosophers regularly read and admire Plato, it is difficult for us to actually believe in his theory of the forms. Similarly, we have an equally hard time believing in the 18^th century version of Platonic moral realism held by Clarke and Macaulay. To the extent that in our time we have moved away from Platonic versions of moral realism, we are more akin to the moral skeptic’s mindset than we may initially think.

Clarifying Misconceptions about Moral Skepticism. Even if Plato’s account of objective morality doesn’t have a hold on our minds today as it did in the past, many philosophers still find aspects of moral skepticism unsettling. Some of these reservations, though, are based on misconceptions about moral skepticism itself.

First, critics of moral skepticism sometimes argue that denying an objective basis of morality amounts to rejecting all moral values. In response, this criticism confuses the moral skeptic’s position with that of the moral nihilist who holds that there are no moral values at all, but simply repressive social conventions which a truly free person will reject. The moral skeptic, on the other hand, recognizes society’s moral values, and even endorses them; he only denies that they are grounded in an objective realm. To clarify the skeptic’s point, it is helpful to distinguish between the issues of metaethics and issues of normative ethics. One of the key issues of metaethics concerns whether moral values exist in an eternal spiritual realm which is external to human society. The skeptic denies moral values exist in this. Normative ethics, by contrast, involves a quest for the best values and guiding principles of human conduct. Some leading normative values are the Ten Commandments of Judaism, the Confucian principle of reciprocity that we should avoid treating others in ways we wouldn’t want to be treated ourselves, and the utilitarian position that we should pursue the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people. The moral skeptic will acknowledge the binding nature of some set of moral values such as these. Like everyone, the skeptic too lives in societies, raises children, is appalled by crime, and hopes for a better future. There are many practical and emotional reasons to adopt and perpetuate normative moral standards. In short, it is only the more abstract metaethical issue of objectively existing values that the skeptic questions. The skeptic would argue that it is the normative question that really matters in life and makes us good citizens. The metaethical question is a matter of armchair speculation for philosophical hobbyists, and the stand one takes on the metaethical issue has no necessary impact on the normative values that one endorses.

Second, critics of moral skepticism argue that, without the grounding of objective moral principles, societies will create many arbitrary and perhaps horrible values and simply give them the rubber stamp of "morality." By grounding values in fixed external principles, though, our values will be good ones. The moral skeptic has three replies to this challenge. (a) Even if we grant that there are objective moral principles, Plato and other moral realists simply assume that these principles are fixed and unchanging. However, this is a position that must be argued for, rather than merely assumed. The 19^th century German Idealist philosopher G.W.F. Hegel (1770-1831) believed that the universe was a giant spirit that was continually evolving. As the absolute spirit evolves through time, so too do human social values evolve on earth. Hegel may not have gotten the story of the universe right either, but the moral skeptic will argue that even if moral principles are objective, they are not necessarily unchanging, nonarbitrary, or even good. (b) For the sake of argument, let’s grant that there are objective moral principles that are unchanging. If we have no clear way of accessing them, as Aristotle argues above, then, in point of practice, we will create our value system independently of them. So, the mere existence of objective moral principles alone doesn’t guarantee how we will formulate our social value systems. Finally, and most importantly, (c) even the most extreme moral skeptics don’t believe that moral values are completely arbitrary creations of human society. Instead, morality is based on a mixture of human nature and social contrivance. Protagoras recognized that, mythically speaking, Zeus implanted in humans a sense of guilt and justice which, in turn, is shaped by and perpetuated through social custom. 17^th century British philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679) argued that we devise social conventions because of our natural sense of self-preservation, fear of death, and desire to live in peace. 17^th century British philosopher David Hume (1711-1776) argued that we create artificial notions of justice, which we approve of by means of natural moral feelings. Mackie argues that we "create" morality in response to our natural drive to improve our well being as active social beings. To the extent that the elements of human nature noted by these philosophers are fixed from person to person, the moral values we devise will be at least somewhat fixed and nonarbitrary.

A Moral Skeptic’s Reaction to Immoral Customs. Perhaps the strongest resistance to moral skepticism comes from our negative reactions to horrible customs such as female genital mutilation. Regardless of how defenders of these practices view them in their homelands, we feel strongly that they are wrong. It isn’t simply that they are wrong here in the United States, but they are wrong anywhere, even in the cultures in which they are practiced the most. The moral skeptic doesn’t seem justified in making this universal pronouncement if he denies the existence of an independent and objective moral realm.

In response, imagine that morality is a game we play which involves following specific rules. Some of the rules have us arrive at a normative list of dos and don’ts. Other rules involve punishments and rewards for those that break or abide by these dos and don’ts. Finally, other rules govern the vocabulary that we use when playing the morality game. For example, I’m allowed to call you a "good person" if you consistently perform the "dos". I am allowed to call you a "bad person" if you consistently violate the "don’ts." The rules also allow me to make universal pronouncements, such as "female genital mutilation is wrong everywhere." Not only can I say this, but, according to the rules, I can also mean it, argue for it, feel anger toward those who perform this practice, and maintain that defenders of this practice are simply wrong. All of these rules are consistent with the moral skeptic’s view that morality is grounded in a combination of human nature and social convention.

The moral realist won’t be satisfied with this game-based notion of "universal pronouncement." Instead, a follower of Plato will still argue that we need objective moral principles to give full force to universal pronouncements. The skeptic will agree that there is in fact a greater metaethical strength to Plato’s notion of universal pronouncement. However, assuming that the above problems with moral realism can be adequately addressed, the skeptic will argue that nothing is gained with Plato’s view from the standpoint of universal pronouncements. The rules of the morality game remain the same for both Plato and the moral skeptic, and both are entitled to make universal pronouncements according to the rules.

Sources

The media has recently focused on a phenomenon called road rage in which drivers become enraged at offending motorists and confront them. In Durham, North Carolina a driver’s education teacher was enraged when his car was cut off by another vehicle:

The circumstances that spark road rage are mostly trivial. A motorist might brake abruptly, swerve into another lane or honk the horn. This prompts shouting, tailgating, obscene gestures, high-speed chases, and direct physical confrontations. There are several psychological explanations for the road rage phenomenon. Traffic is continually becoming heavier and thereby causing sensory overload. Many assailants are in large sports utility vehicles, which perhaps gives them a false sense of invulnerability. The root of the problem, however, is that the assailant experiences a strong emotion of anger and seemingly loses ability to control it. Many relatively minor events in our daily lives have the potential to make us angry. The cat might knock over a plant, the new stereo might malfunction, a store clerk might be rude, or the neighbors might be too noisy. We learn to combat our angry urges, though, and react in a civilized manner.

Anger is just one strong feeling that we must keep in check. Others are sexual appetite, hunger, envy, malice, hatred, resentment, fear, pride, and desire. Imagine what people would be like if we never kept any of these emotions in check. We would constantly be at war with others and ultimately have no society. Controlling strong emotions is a matter of training. Our parents and teachers begin training us when we are young. As we get older, we continue the training process on our own. Eventually we develop habits that become second nature to us. In short, we acquire what moral philosophers call virtues. A virtue is a good habit that we develop that regulates emotions and urges. Typical virtues include courage, temperance, justice, prudence, fortitude, liberality, and truthfulness. Vices, by contrast, are bad habits that we automatically develop in reaction to the same emotions and urges when we fail to acquire virtues. Vices include cowardice, insensibility, injustice, and vanity. As a fully developed moral theory, virtue theory is the view that the foundation of morality is the development of good character traits, or virtues. A person is good if he has virtues and lacks vices.

Early Greek View of Virtues. Historically, virtue theory is one of the oldest moral theory in Western philosophy, having its roots in ancient Greek civilization. The Greek term for virtue is arete, which means "excellence." Greek epic poets and playwrights, such as Homer and Sophocles, described the morality of their heroes and antiheroes in terms of their respective virtues and vices. Their characters’ successes and failures hinged on their virtuous or vicious character traits. For example, in Sophocles’s tragic play Oedipus Rex, king Oedipus’s life crumbles after he unknowingly kills his father and sleeps with his mother. These tragic acts themselves, though, are a consequence of his character flaws, particularly pride and overconfidence.

Discussions of the virtues become more formalized by Plato who stressed four particular virtues: wisdom, courage, temperance and justice. Early Christian theologians dubbed these cardinal virtues, given their central role for Plato, especially regarding Plato’s description of the human psyche. According to Plato, the human psyche has three distinct parts: one that reasons, one that wills, and one that has appetites. The job of our reason is to bring our wills and appetites under control. We have wisdom when our reason is informed by general knowledge of how to live. We have courage when our reason governs our capacity to be wrathful. We have temperance when our reason governs our appetites. We have justice when each of the three parts of our psyche performs their proper task with informed reason in control. Plato believed that these virtues were unified insofar as all four require a properly developed reason. So, for Plato, if I have one of these virtues, I will necessarily have them all. Although Plato’s vision of reason’s involvement in virtues influenced later theorists, the details of his four cardinal virtues had limited impact given their somewhat forced reliance on his specialized theory of the psyche. The definitive analysis of virtues was left to his student, Aristotle (384-322 BCE.).

ARISTOTLE’S THEORY. Aristotle’s account of virtue is found in his work The Nichomachean Ethics, which he named in honor of his son Nichomachus. The work is long, at around 200 pages, and only the highlights of his theory can be presented here.

Appetite-Regulating Habits. There are three main steps in Aristotle’s discussion of virtues. The first step involves establishing the fact that humans strive after an ultimate good that defines who we are. The subject of ethics is an attempt to discover this goal. For Aristotle, our ultimate good is an end that we seek in and of itself, and not merely for the sake of something else. In general, we call this ultimate end "happiness" (eudimonea), although this term is used in so many ways that we need to specify more precisely what it involves. Human happiness is different than dog happiness, for example, and is unique to our human construction and function. The second step in Aristotle’s discussion involves discovering our uniquely human function by analyzing our uniquely human psyche. He offers this division of the human psyche:

[chart]

According to Aristotle, the psyche has an irrational element that is similar to that of lower animals, and a rational element that is distinctly human. The highest aspect of the rational part is calculative in nature, and is responsible for the human ability to contemplate, reason logically, and formulate scientific principles. This is a uniquely human ability. At the other extreme, the most primitive and irrational element of our psyche is the vegetative faculty that is responsible for our physical nutrition and growth. This is a factor present in all life forms, and not just in humans. Between the two extremes there is an additional faculty that is partly rational and partly irrational. This is the appetitive faculty and is responsible for our emotions and desires. The appetitive faculty is irrational since even lower animals experience desires. However, it is also rational since humans have the distinct ability to control these desires with the help of reason. The human ability to properly control these desires is called moral virtue, and is the focus of ethics.

The third and last step in Aristotle’s discussion involves a description of the moral virtues themselves. Aristotle makes three general observations about the nature of moral virtues. First, he argues that the ability to regulate our desires isn’t instinctive, but learned and is the outcome of both teaching and practice. Second, he argues that desire-regulating virtues are character traits, or habitual dispositions, and shouldn’t be seen as either emotions or mental faculties. Third, moral virtues are desire regulating character traits that are at a mean between more extreme character traits. If we regulate our desires either too much or too little, then we create problems. For example, in response to our natural emotion of fear when facing danger, we should develop the virtuous character trait of courage. If we develop an excessive character trait by curbing fear too much, then we are said to be rash, which is a vice. If, on the other extreme, we develop a deficient character trait by curbing fear too little, then we are said to be cowardly, which is also a vice. The virtue of courage, then, lies at the mean between the excessive extreme of rashness, and the deficient extreme of cowardice. Aristotle notes that this is similar to how "excess or deficiency of gymnastic exercise is fatal to strength."

Most moral virtues, and not just courage, fall at the mean between two accompanying vices. Aristotle describes 11 virtues in particular that follow this model. Each virtue and vice arises in reaction to some specific appetite or desire we have. His analysis is summarized in this table:

[chart]

Of these 11 virtues, the pinnacle of these for Aristotle is self-respect, which is also translated as "pride" or "high-mindedness." It involves having a respectful attitude about our self-worth in everything that we do. For example, it is unbecoming for a self-respecting person to be cowardly when facing danger, or to be insensible with pleasure, or to be stingy about giving money.

Aristotle notes that that there weren’t enough terms in his language to adequately name all the virtues and corresponding vices. This is also the case with the English language, and it may be difficult at first to grasp the relation between the various virtues and vices on the above list. Aristotle also notes that not all virtues fall at a mean between two more extreme dispositions. One such virtue is that of justice, which simply has injustice as its contrary. The virtue of justice involves being lawful and fair. The unjust person, by contrast, is unlawful, unfair, and greedily grasps at things.

Practical Wisdom. Although Aristotle’s analysis of the above 11 virtues fits into a nicely organized scheme, in common life situations it is in fact hard to pinpoint the mean between two extreme dispositions. Suppose that I am a soldier and I know in theory that if my fear gets the best of me I will be a coward, and if I completely ignore my fear I will be rash. Somewhere in the middle lies courage. However, how many bullets need to fly above my head before I can courageously crawl back into my foxhole for safety? Suppose I am a college student and I understand that temperance involves knowing how to regulate my desire for pleasure. Am I insensible if I completely avoid going to fraternity parties? And, if I do go, how many beers can I have before I am intemperate? Finally, suppose that, in my drive for success at my job, I understand that lack of ambition will get me fired, but too much ambition will destroy my home life. How much devotion should I show at my job?

Aristotle confesses that it is indeed difficult to live the virtuous life primarily because of the challenges presented in finding the mean between the extremes. He notes that calculating the mean isn’t simply a matter of taking an average. For example, if eating 100 apples is too many, and eating zero apples is too little, this doesn’t imply that I should eat 50 apples, which is the mathematical mean. However, the problem isn’t insurmountable. Aristotle explains that an aspect of our calculative reasoning called practical wisdom (phronesis) helps us find the virtuous mean. There are two components to practical wisdom. First, it intuitively grasps our ultimate function and purpose in life. In a nutshell, our ultimate function is to be community-oriented rational creatures. Each properly formed virtue contributes to fulfilling this ultimate purpose. Second, practical wisdom involves deliberating about and planning the best way of attaining this ultimate purpose. So, with each of the above dilemmas, our practical wisdom will help us chisel out the appropriate conduct that will facilitate our ultimate purpose.

In spite of the assistance we receive from practical wisdom, we shouldn’t see it as a small voice within us that tells us for each action whether that action hits the mean or one of the extremes. First, when we are in the process of developing virtuous habits, practical wisdom doesn’t pronounce judgment on each of our actions. Instead, through our life experiences, we gradually develop a sense of our ultimate function and just as gradually we cultivate virtuous habits. Second, once our virtuous habits are developed, we act spontaneously without step by step rational prompting. For example, once I learn how to be a safe automobile driver, my highway manners become second nature and I slow down before approaching a stop sign without consciously thinking about it.

If I successfully acquire virtues, then I attain the status of a good person. As a good person, each of my actions will be a reflection of the virtuous character traits that I developed. However, Aristotle argues, each action must be freely chosen. That is, the action must have its causal origin within me, and can’t be mechanically imposed on me by other people. Further, for my choice to be truly free, I must know all of the important details pertaining to the action in question. He argues that freedom of the will is a factor with both virtuous choices and vicious choices.

These are the main points of Aristotle’s virtue theory:

• Moral virtues are habits that regulate the desires of our appetitive nature
• Most virtues are at a mean between two vicious habits
• Our practical wisdom guides us in developing moral virtues by gradually informing us of our ultimate function and showing us the best means of attaining it
• My moral actions are freely chosen and are an extension of my virtuous habits

Aristotle himself summarizes his notion of moral virtue here:

As for the vice of spiritlessness, there are several reasons why it is bad for us to completely lack expressions of anger. If we never react in anger even when there is a proper cause, then it will appear to others that we aren’t pained by things that should pain us. People will think that we won’t defend ourselves and, for example, we will sit back and put up with insult after insult against our loved ones and ourselves. In a word, people will see us as fools. In spite of how bad it is to be completely unaffected by anger, Aristotle believes that it is better to err on the side of spiritlessness than on the side of ill-temper since spiritless people are easier to live with.

On the other extreme, ill-tempered people respond inappropriately to anger with at least one of the above five factors. In fact, Aristotle notes that we have different names for ill-tempered people based on the combination of factors in which they fail. Hotheaded people get angry too quickly, with the wrong people, for the wrong reason, and to the wrong degree (factors 1-4). However, they get over their anger quickly (factor 5), which is the best thing about them. Choleric people get angry quickly at everything on every occasion (factors 1, 2 and 4). Brooding people fail mainly with the fifth factor and carry out their anger far too long. Bad-tempered people get angry at the wrong things for a long period of time (factors 2 and 5) and won’t be satisfied until they inflict punishment on the offender. How would Aristotle view the person who exhibits road rage? The enraged drive has perhaps picked out the appropriate person for an appropriate offense, and maybe is angry for an appropriate length of time. But the degree of his reaction is far too extreme and his angry reaction is far too quick. His principal failure, then, is with factors (3) and (4).

THE DEVELOPMENT AND DECLINE OF VIRTUE THEORY. For almost 2000 years Greek notions of virtue -- and Aristotle’s theory in particular -- were central to Western conceptions of morality. The details were sometimes different, but moral philosophers consistently emphasized the need to acquire good character traits that guide our actions and thereby make us "good people."

The Golden Age of Virtue Theory. Immediately after Aristotle, the rival philosophical schools of Epicureanism and Stoicism offered competing views of morality and the virtues. Epicurus identified the virtuous life with a life of pleasure and the avoidance of pain. By contrast, Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism, emphasized the importance of resigning oneself to fate and suppressing our desires for things beyond our control. For Zeno, virtue is intimately connected with our knowledge of the physical world and, to this end, the virtuous person develops four knowledge-oriented virtues. Through intelligence she knows what is good and bad. Through bravery she knows what to fear and what not to fear. Through justice she knows how to give what is deserved. Through self-control she knows what passions to extinguish.

With the arrival of Christianity, the Apostle Paul endorsed the virtues of faith, hope, and charity, which were later dubbed the "theological virtues" in contrast to Plato’s four "cardinal virtues." Medieval theologians sometimes referred to the "seven virtues," combining the three theological virtues with the four cardinal virtues. Medieval theologians such as Aquinas held Aristotle in especially high regard and wrote commentaries on the Nichomachean Ethics that perpetuated Aristotle’s analysis of the virtues.

By the Renaissance, philosophical discussions of virtue were essentially analyses of Aristotle’s theory, such as Henry More’s Account of Virtue (1667). During the 18^th century interest in Aristotle’s version of virtue ethics declined. Historians of philosophy typically say that virtue theory was simply neglected or ignored. A more accurate description, though, is that Aristotle’s theory was critiqued and revised, and, in modified form, incorporated into newer accounts of moral obligation. During this transitional period, Aristotle’s virtue theory met its greatest challenge with the rise of natural law theory, particularly as put forward by 17th century Dutch philosopher Hugo Grotius. For Grotius, morality involves conforming one's actions to moral laws that are fixed in nature, which even God can’t change. Grotius rejected the role of virtue assigned by Aristotle, and directly criticized Aristotle's theory on three accounts. First, Aristotle's doctrine of the mean fails to adequately explain basic moral concepts such as truthfulness and justice. Second, in the case of justice, the agent's particular virtuous disposition doesn’t matter. All that matters is following proper reason with respect to the rights of others. Third, contrary to Aristotle, the moral agent doesn’t have special moral insight simply because she is virtuous, or a good person. Instead, morality is fixed in natural laws that can be rationally perceived by all.

Virtue-Based Morality vs. Action/Rule-Based Morality. Grotius started a trend in ethics that de-emphasized the character traits of the moral agent and instead focused on the rightness and wrongness of the agent’s actions. Let’s call these two views virtue-based morality and action/rule-based morality. According to virtue-based morality, (1) greater importance is placed on developing good character traits, rather than acting in accord with moral rules; (2) good actions are those that flow from our virtuous character traits; and (3) morality is a matter of being a good person, which involves having virtuous character traits. By contrast, according to action/rule-based morality, (1) emphasis is placed on proper actions, which conform to moral rules; (2) although good character traits might help us perform good actions, they don’t define good actions; and (3) people are judged based on their actions, not on whether they are good people.

During the 18^th and 19^th centuries the rift between virtue-based and action/rule-based morality widened as inventive philosophers tried to reduce all moral obligations to a small handful of moral rules, or even a single supreme rule if possible. Morality, then, was seen as a matter of acting in accordance with moral rules. One such supreme rule was that of utilitarianism, which John Stuart Mill formulated as this: "Actions are right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness, wrong as they tend to promote the reverse." In defense of this supreme rule of utility, Mill dismissed virtue-based morality as being irrelevant since moral judgments should be made impartially of the agent's character. For Mill, an action isn’t right when merely done by a virtuous person. By the beginning of the 20th century, the action/rule emphasis of moral theories such as utilitarianism supplanted the character trait emphasis of virtue theory.

CONTEMPORARY ISSUES. Within the past few decades interest in virtue theory has revived owing partly to seminal writings by Elizabeth Anscombe and Alasdair MacIntyre. Anscombe argues that modern moral theories such as utilitarianism inconsistently advance rules without any notion of a rule giver. For Anscombe, the entire action/rule-based approach to ethics needs to be abandoned in favor of the virtue-based approach offered by Aristotle, which avoids this inconsistency. MacIntyre argues that today we have only fragments of conflicting moral traditions:

Feminist Defense of Virtue Theory. Virtue-based morality received an extra boost from recent feminist philosophers who argue that action/rule-based morality is male-centered. Contemporary feminist writers express a wide range of ideas, and it is a mistake to associate any particular moral theory with the entire group. However, a theme in many feminist writers is that, historically, the creation of strict moral rules is modeled after practices that were traditionally male-dominated, such as acquiring property, engaging in business contracts, and governing societies. The rigid systems of rules required for trade and government set a pattern for creating equally rigid systems of moral rules, such as lists of moral rights and duties. Some of this may be the result of a male instinct to organize and pigeonhole things. It may also be the result self-serving male interests, which involved creating moral rules that subverted the interests of women, such as requiring women to be obedient, industrious, servile, and silent. Men not only created the rules of morality itself, but they also created the rules that govern proper discussion of morality, so input from women became almost impossible.

Women, by contrast, traditionally had a nurturing role by raising children and overseeing domestic life. These tasks require less rule-following, and more spontaneous and creative interaction. Using the woman's experience as a model for moral theory, then, the basis of morality should be spontaneously caring for others as would be appropriate in each unique circumstance. This involves acquiring nurturing character traits and having our actions flow from these. This stands in sharp contrast with male-modeled morality in which the agent mechanically performs his duty as moral laws require. Radical feminist philosophers sometimes argue that a morality based on female virtues should replace male-modeled moral systems that emphasize rules. More moderate feminist writers argue that it should only be a supplement.

Although feminists endorse virtue-based approaches to ethics in general, Philosopher Nel Noddings argues that Aristotle’s specific account needs modification. Aristotle’s list of specific virtues comes from an elite social class, as opposed to social classes of slaves and women who had more subservient roles in society. For Noddings, feminist morality is a quest for new virtues based on traditional women's practices that we see in everyday experiences. For example, accepted women’s occupations today are cooking, cleaning, nursing, secretarial services, and childhood education. Although these are roles that women should rise above, they nevertheless reflect a caring mentality, which Noddings believes is instinctive to women.

Virtues With or Without Rules? A prominent issue in contemporary discussions of virtue-based morality is whether a virtue theory can be completely independent of moral rules. One side of the dispute, which we will call strong virtue theory, maintains that rules must be eliminated from all notions of virtue. That is, morality is founded entirely on virtuous character traits such as courage, and these virtues are independent of ideal principles. The other side of the dispute, which we will call weak virtue theory, maintains that there is either a single rule or a core set of rules which establishes when a character trait is good or bad. Some of the appeal of strong virtue theory undoubtedly stems from a frustration with the inadequacies of various action/rule-based approaches to morality such as utilitarianism. As some feminists argue, rigid rules seem so contrary to the nurturing dispositions needed for genuine morality that we should simply reject them. However, in spite of the appeal of strong virtue theory, it isn’t clear that classical writers held to this strong notion when devising their theories. Three aspects of Aristotle’s theory in particular suggest that rules are at least part of virtue-based morality.

First, the formation of virtues themselves involves some conception of rules. We develop virtues progressively as practical wisdom directs our particular actions. Aristotle even uses the phrases "right governance" and "rational principle" synonymously with practical wisdom. Although practical wisdom isn’t a set of precisely formulated principles, it is an intuitive standard of guidance. Through this intuitive standard of guidance, we develop virtuous character traits that are deemed good, as opposed to vicious character traits that are deemed bad. Second, once virtues are developed, the virtues themselves become rules by which we assess the correctness of our own actions as well as those other people. This is clear in Aristotle’s discussion of the virtue of good-temper noted above. We praise people who abide by the virtuous mean of good temper, and blame those who don’t. He also advises us as individuals to "cling to the middle state" of good temper so that we become praiseworthy. Similarly, the virtues of courage, temperance, generosity, self-respect all become standards by which we praise and blame actions.

A final "rule" aspect of Aristotle’s theory involves the intimate connection he establishes between ethics and politics. Ethics involves the discovery of our ultimate human purpose as developed in virtuous character traits. Politics extends directly from this and involves legislating "what we are to do and what we are to abstain from" (Nichomachean Ethics, 1.2). Part of this is establishing just actions and just punishments (Politics, 7:13). Virtues, then, are only the starting point; the next step is to create governing bodies, social classes, and the obligations of both rulers and citizens, all of which is rule-oriented.

In view of these "rule" aspects of Aristotle’s theory, he is best seen as a weak virtue theorist as defined above. Of course, contemporary virtue theorists are not required to follow Aristotle in all particulars of his theory. In fact, from a contemporary perspective, there is much about Aristotle’s theory that might call for revision. In contemporary physiology, there is no place for Aristotle’s division of the human psyche between vegetative, appetitive, and rational parts. In contemporary psychology, there is no place for Aristotle’s notion of practical wisdom faculty that gradually illuminates our ultimate purpose to us. In contemporary social thought, feminist critics such as Noddings correctly point out that Aristotle’s specific list of virtues reflects an aristocratic bias that we should reject. But, as we update these components of Aristotle’s theory, we must find alternative explanations to the above three "rule" aspects of Aristotle’s account. First, we must explain what makes any given character trait virtuous as opposed to vicious. Second, we must explain how we find some actions praiseworthy, and others blameworthy. Finally, we must explain how any ethically based political system can govern properly. No current strong virtue theory adequately meets these challenges and, given the importance of rules in almost all areas of our social lives, it isn’t likely that any can.

Contemporary Critiques. In spite of the recent strong support for virtue-based morality, defenders of rival action/rule-based approaches point out several limitations with virtue theory. However, most of these target strong virtue theory which, we have already conceded, is untenable. Because of the popularity of such criticisms, it is important to see how defenders of weak virtue theory can quickly answer these charges. First, critics charge that there is a problem with determining precisely who is virtuous. It doesn’t help to look for some external criterion, such as visible indications in the person’s action, since outward actions are no guarantee that the person's inner self is virtuous. It also doesn’t help to look for an inner criterion, such as the agent's self-respect or integrity, since we don’t have the ability to read people’s minds. In response, weak virtue theorists say that we look at people’s actions as indicators of their character traits. For example, we spot whether a given action appears ill tempered. We then praise or blame the action based on whether it approaches the virtuous mean.

Second, critics argue that some acts are so intolerable, such as murder, that we must devise a special list of prohibited offenses. Virtue theory doesn’t provide such a list. In response, it is easy for the weak virtue theorist to construct a list of such prohibited actions. When we assess how well a person’s actions conform to the virtuous mean, it becomes evident that some actions are more blameworthy than others are. We then make a list of these actions. Although Aristotle doesn’t provide a definitive list, he does note that certain vices are worse than others are. For example, in the above discussion of good-temper, he argues that the vice of ill temper is worse than the vice of spiritlessness. Also, other virtue theorists do provide short lists of prohibited actions that stem from serious vices, the most famous of which is the medieval list of seven deadly sins.

Finally, critics argue that virtue theory permits us to occasionally act badly, as long as the virtue in question remains intact. For example, virtue theory emphasizes long-term character traits, such as honesty or generosity. Because of this long-term emphasis, we might overlook particular lies or particular acts of selfishness on the grounds that they are only temporary departures from our overall dispositions. The weak virtue theorist has two responses to this charge. First, once we set virtues up as standards of praise and blame, we are in a position to judge every particular action that departs from a given virtuous standard. The occasional lie, for example, will stand out and call for judgment. Second, it may be a mistake to think that occasional departures such as white lies don’t compromise virtuous character traits. With many virtues, to be virtuous means to always have exemplary conduct. For example, even a single act of marital infidelity sufficiently signals a lack of virtue. A politician who publicly lies even once loses the trust of the people. It may sometimes seem as though we can still be virtuous while occasionally acting unvirtuously, but this may only be a reflection of the morally challenged era in which we currently live.

The Best Teacher of Morality. Imagine that, as a parent, you want to teach your child that it is wrong to become inappropriately enraged. When your child is older, you don’t want him to give in to road rage, beat his wife, or perform any other action that is the consequence of inappropriate anger. Imagine further that you had two teaching methods available. The first method established meticulous rules for what counts as inappropriate anger in virtually every circumstance. It also included rules describing the kinds of punishments that were justified for each type of violation. According to this first teaching method, your child would memorize all these rules so that, for each situation that arises, your child immediately knows the right thing to do. The second method doesn’t focus on memorizing specific rules, but, instead, focuses on instilling good habits. Using various techniques, such as behavior modification, you teach your child to avoid inappropriate action and become habituated towards appropriate action. You also give him techniques so he can properly modify his behavior on his own, without your constant monitoring. All other factors being equal, which of these two methods would work best in preventing inappropriate anger? The habit-instilling method appears to be the winner.

Virtue theorists capitalize on the benefits of teaching morality through creating virtuous habits. They argue that the most important thing about studying ethics is its impact on conduct. Aristotle himself said that he wrote the Nichomachean Ethics "not in order to know what virtue is, but in order to become good." Detailed lists of rules in and of themselves don’t make us better people, but instilling good habits does. In 1993, attorney William J. Bennett edited an anthology titled The Book of Virtues, which quickly became a best seller. The work contains classic stories and folk tales highlighting 10 virtues, including self-discipline, compassion, responsibility and friendship. Bennett says that the work is meant to assist in the "time-honored task of the moral education of the young." Among the essential elements of moral training, he notes that "Moral education must provide training in good habits. Aristotle wrote that good habits formed at youth make all the difference."

To a degree, the stark contrast between act/rule-based approaches to ethics and virtue-based approaches is artificial. Even staunch act/rule advocates, such as Bentham and Mill, recognize the importance of virtues in creating a person’s inner sense of morality. Weak virtue theorists recognize that virtues are intimately related to moral rules. Also, the two methods of teaching morality noted above would probably overlap when carried out in practice. However, the almost complete disinterest in virtue theory among moral philosophers in the first half of the 20^th century was a mistake. Society needs all the help it can get in improving its moral climate. To that end moral philosophers of all traditions should welcome the renewed contributions of virtue theory.

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Richard Cooper, an artist from Pennsylvania, often put images of himself in his paintings. In one work he painted a woman on the left side of the canvas, a man on the right side, and himself between the two. He depicted himself pivoting away from the woman and reaching toward the man. The painting represents a moment in Cooper’s life when he resolved an ongoing struggle with his gender orientation. Although attracted to men even in his youth, he followed society’s expectations and dated women. Eventually the inner tension became too great and he acknowledged his homosexual leaning. Social attitudes about homosexuality have varied greatly throughout time. Ancient Greek literature, such as Plato’s Symposium, describes homosexual relations between a master and his apprentice as commonplace. In a recent controversial work, John Boswell argues that during the early middle ages, the Catholic Church endorsed same-sex unions, which may have been a cover for homosexual activity. On the other hand, passages in the Jewish Old Testament take strong stands against homosexuality, stating that "Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable" (Leviticus 18:22). A medieval Eastern religious text states in even stronger terms that it wouldn’t be murder if anyone sees two men having sex with each other and, in a fit of rage, smashes their skulls with a rock.

American society today is somewhere in between these two extremes. We appreciate the social contributions of our overtly gay friends and acquaintances. Reflecting the value system of political correctness, several recent television situation comedies teach gay toleration and gay rights as a running theme. Yet, at the same time, most Americans resist the idea of officially endorsing homosexual marriages and some even publicly express revulsion at homosexual behavior. How we deal with homosexual family members is also revealing. One third of American teenagers who inform their parents of their homosexuality are thrown out of their houses. The most common criticism against homosexual behavior is that it is unnatural or abnormal for properly functioning people. But in what sense is homosexuality "unnatural" or "abnormal"? It can’t merely mean that homosexual behavior falls outside the statistical mean of human behavior. Recent studies do show that regular homosexual activity is found in only about one percent of the population. However, many practices that we find morally acceptable are also statistical aberrations. Stamp collecting, deep-sea fishing, hang gliding, and thousands of other past times, are all practiced by only a small segment of the population. Similarly, we still condemn many behavioral practices even when they are practiced by a statistical majority of the people, such as marital infidelity. So, if homosexuality is wrong because it is "unnatural," it must be for reasons other than mere statistics. The natural law theory of morality offers a detailed account of what it means for an action to be natural or unnatural, and discussions of natural law frequently focus on homosexuality as an example of unnatural conduct.

Natural Law Theory. It is difficult to succinctly define natural law theory. It isn’t a single theory, per se, but a system of several smaller theories. Further, over the years, natural law philosophers proposed different systems and it is hard to find features common to them all. Here, though, are some recurring points:

• God endorses specific moral values and pronounces them as "law" by fixing them in human nature.
• There is only one highest principle of natural law, which humans discover intuitively (such as, "people ought to be sociable").
• We rationally deduce subsidiary moral rules from this highest principle (such as, "we ought not murder").
• These subsidiary rules carry the force of natural law to the degree that they are necessary for fulfilling the highest principle of natural law.

The notion of moral deduction is central to natural law theory. For example, suppose that God plants within me the intuition that "people ought to be sociable." I recognize that there are many kinds of actions that run contrary to this, such as murder, stealing and lying. I then deduce that these actions are wrong since they are not sociable. Deducing the immorality of even more specific actions is a greater challenge. For example, I might argue that it is immoral to own handguns since this creates an environment that leads to wrongful killings during domestic disputes, and this is contrary to the mandate to be sociable. However, if there are other ways that we can reduce these wrongful killings without banning handguns, then banning handguns isn’t backed by natural law as much as is a simple prohibition against murder.

Natural law theory has its roots in ancient Greek thought, particularly Stoicism, which maintained that the world is governed by a rational principle, the logos; for Stoics, we are obligated to live according to this principle. The term "natural law" (ius naturale) appears sporadically in discussions of Roman law, in which it is a category of law distinct from civil and human law. However, the term "natural law" becomes prominent in early Christian thought and gains its fullest medieval expression in the writings of Italian Christian monk Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274).

AQUINAS NATURAL LAW THEORY. Aquinas’ account of natural law appears in his "Treatise on Law," a section of his several thousand page Summa Theologica (1a2ae q. 90-144). His discussion of natural law hinges on a distinction between four types of law: eternal law, natural law, human law and divine law. Eternal law is like a master database of all unchanging laws that God endorses when governing everyone’s actions. It includes general moral rules of conduct, such as "murder is wrong," and more particular rules, such as, "postal workers shouldn’t gun down their supervisors." Only God, and not humans, has access to this complete master database. Natural law is a subset of eternal law and includes only general rules of conduct, such as "murder is wrong." Through rational intuition, all humans have access to these general rules. Human law is our attempt to deduce more specific rules, such as "postal workers shouldn’t gun down their supervisors" from general rules of natural law, such as "murder is wrong." This is mainly the job of legislators. As long as governing bodies carefully and rationally deduce their laws from natural law, then these laws will also be part of eternal law. However, even the slightest error of reasoning may result in an improper human law. Finally, divine law is a divinely revealed subset of the eternal law that is meant to correct possible errors in our attempts to both obtain general principles of natural law and rationally deduce more particular human laws. We find principles of divine law, such as the Ten Commandments, in the Bible. All moral laws, whether discovered through intuition, deduced by legislators, or found in the scriptures, are ultimately grounded in the unchanging eternal law.

The Synderesis Principle. For Aquinas, we access the general principles of natural law through an intuitive faculty called synderesis. We don’t need to believe in God for the synderesis faculty to give us knowledge of the natural law. It is an instinctive aspect of our reason with which everyone is created. Aquinas describes it as a weak instinctive habit, similar to religious faith, and he contrasts it with strong habits such as acquiring language (Q. 94, 1). The synderesis faculty feeds us a single general principle of natural law, which commentators conveniently call the synderesis principle. Aquinas explicitly states the synderesis principle here:

Primary, Secondary and Super-added Principles. The litmus test for our good pursuits is the extent to which an action is in accord with our proper human end. For Aquinas, we discover our proper human end by considering our most basic human natural inclinations. He lists these inclinations according to the three Aristotelian faculties of the human psyche: the vegetative, appetitive, and rational faculties. Corresponding to the vegetative faculty, we have an inclination for self-preservation. From our appetitive faculty, we have an inclination toward heterosexual activities, and an inclination to educate our offspring. Finally, according to our rational faculty, we have inclinations to be rational, know God, and live in society. For Thomas, these six inclinations comprise what is most proper for humans. Just as God implanted the synderesis principle within us, he also implanted these six inclinations within us. At this point, God’s task in implanting natural law is done, and it is up to us to draw out the implications of the synderesis principle combined with our natural inclinations.

From these six natural inclinations, six primary principles of natural law emerge: (1) preserve human life, (2) have heterosexual (as opposed to homosexual) intercourse, (3) educate your children, (4) shun ignorance, (5) worship God, and (6) avoid harming others. Aquinas notes specifically that divine law corroborates the last two of these: "you should love the Lord your God," and "you should love your neighbor" (Q. 100, 3 and 11). For Aquinas, this procedure of arriving at primary principles through natural inclinations involves logical deduction, specifically syllogistic deduction. The following illustrates this logical connection with the primary principle of avoiding harmful acts:

The deductions from natural law continue with even more specific principles, which Aquinas calls super-added principles (praecepta moralia superaddita). These are derived directly from secondary moral principles. For example, from the secondary prohibition against theft, experts in law may deduce a super-added principle prohibiting fraud, which is a specific kind of theft. The force of natural law diminishes as we move to more and more particular principles. The reason is that specific cultures have their own views as to what counts as harm or theft. Plagiarism, for example, might not be considered stealing in some cultures, but would in ours.

Beginning with the "avoid evil" clause of the synderesis principle, the deduction of primary, secondary, and super-added principles is this:

Our Proper End. The first area of difficulty is with the synderesis principle itself, namely, we should do those things that are conducive to our proper end, and avoid those things that are not conducive to our proper end. This assumes (1) that we have a "proper end," and (2) through rational intuition we recognize an obligation to pursue this end. Both of these are problematic. The concept of a "proper end" (telos) is borrowed from Aristotle’s view of metaphysics. All natural objects, including human beings, have a built-in natural purpose. Understanding the world at large amounts to understanding that purpose. Aristotle’s notion of "purpose" greatly influenced medieval philosophers such as Aquinas. However, beginning in the 16^th century scientists challenged this view of the world by describing natural things in terms of physical and biological mechanisms that merely follow strict laws of nature. We understand natural things by uncovering physical laws, not by investigating the purpose of a thing.

During the 19^th century, evolutionary theory dealt the deathblow to any lingering notions of natural purpose. According to evolutionary theory, biological organisms evolve over time based on environmental factors that weed out organisms less suited to survive in those specific conditions. For evolutionary theorists, there are no biological organisms that have fixed purposes. Species metamorphosize into other species and their characteristics are shaped by external environmental factors. Concerning assumption (2), the 19^th century also saw the birth of the field of psychology, which provided more detailed study of human mental processes. Theorists at this time rejected the idea of a synderesis faculty that supposedly gives us a rational intuition of our proper end. These new theories of mechanics, evolution, and psychology don’t refute the Aristotelian notion of purpose by exposing logical flaws in his theory. However, they offer alternative explanations of natural phenomena which we find more acceptable, and thereby incline us to reject the purpose-oriented explanations of Aristotle and Aquinas.

List of Natural Inclinations. A second area of difficulty with Aquinas’s theory involves the list of natural inclinations that presumably define our proper end. Again, Aquinas emphasizes six specific natural inclinations: (1) self-preservation, (2) heterosexual activity, (3) educate one’s offspring, (4) rationality, (5) know God, and (6) and live in society. There are three specific problems linked with Aquinas’s emphasis on natural inclinations. First, assuming that we have a proper end, why must we look to our natural inclinations to find this end? Aquinas again follows Aristotle on this point by linking our purpose (telos) with our natural function (ergon). Aristotle believes our human function is found specifically in the three divisions of our human psyche. However, there are other ways that we can understand our purpose, and perhaps it has nothing to do with natural function. Instead, according to many religious groups, our purpose may involve a special mission we are on for God, which is occasionally revealed through divinely inspired prophecies. Alternatively, according to science fiction fans, our purpose may involve simply being a stepping stone to the creation of a more perfect computer life form that will ultimately replace us. In short, there are alternative accounts of human purpose that we should explore before adopting Aristotle’s view of purpose-as-function.

Second, Aquinas’s list of functions is too selective. A genuine list of human inclinations would be much longer. If our list includes the inclination for sexual intercourse, then we should also include our inclination to eat food, to excrete waste outside of our sleeping area, to get angry, to laugh, to cry, or any other behavior that is linked with the natural release of hormones. By pre-selecting only these six, Aquinas reveals a special moral agenda he wishes to impose on the subject of our natural inclinations. If we adopt his restricted list, then we follow Aquinas’s moral hunch, rather than genuine human inclination. Third, it is difficult to see how some of these count as "natural inclinations" or are "natural" for everyone. Modern psychology would question the natural basis of the inclination to "know God" which, instead, is a culturally shaped inclination based on varying conceptions of divine reality and religious institutions. The natural inclination toward heterosexual activity also presents problems. Researchers today believe that sexual orientation is largely a matter of genetic predisposition. Most humans are indeed genetically predisposed to heterosexual orientation. However, around 1 percent is predisposed to homosexual orientation and for them this is a natural inclination. Consequently, it is too simplistic to state as a rule that humans are naturally inclined toward heterosexual activity. Again, Aquinas advances a special moral agenda and doesn’t present an objective list human inclinations.

Deducing Principles from Natural Inclinations. A third area of difficulty with Aquinas’s natural law theory involves how we deduce moral principles from our six natural inclinations. He believes that these deductions are so easy that any human can make the inferences, and not just wise people or legal experts. However, many of these inferences are not particularly self-evident. For example, from the natural inclination toward self-preservation Aquinas infers that we should always preserve our lives and never resort to suicide, even when terminally ill. Similarly, from the natural inclination toward heterosexual activity, Aquinas infers that none of us should ever engage in homosexual activity. However, there are more modest inferences that we could make. For example, from the natural inclination toward self-preservation we might infer that we are justified in preserving our lives when attacked, as in cases of self-defense; however, other more pressing circumstances might override self-preservation, such as terminal illness. Similarly, for those who have the natural inclination toward heterosexual activity, we might infer that for them heterosexual intercourse is a justified form of human activity. It thus seems arbitrary for Aquinas to prefer his more extreme inferences to these more moderate ones. Aquinas would argue that our mental faculty of practical reason prompts us to make the more extreme inference. For a contemporary perspective, though, we can just as easily see this prompting as the result of personal and cultural bias.

In view of these three problem areas, since the Renaissance, mainstream philosophers ultimately abandoned Aquinas’s account of natural law. Today his theory is principally defended by theologians in the Roman Catholic tradition, who still hold to Aristotelian notions of purpose, natural inclinations, and practical reason.

OCKHAM’S VOLUNTARISM. Medieval philosophers after Aquinas adopted several aspects of his natural law theory, but they raised questions about the ultimate source of moral values. Aquinas believed that, although God endorses the moral principles of natural law, God doesn’t literally author these principles. Instead, moral principles are rational laws that exist independently of God. God simply adopts moral principles because (a) moral principles are rational, and (b) God is a rational being. Since God created humans as rational creatures, then we too can rationally intuit morality. This position is called intellectualism since it holds to the independent rational status of moral principles. Other medieval philosophers took an opposing view called voluntarism, which is that moral principles of natural law are not independent rational principles. Instead, they are creations of God’s will. The difference in opinion between intellectualism and voluntarism is encapsulated in a riddle posed by Plato in his dialog The Euthyphro. In the dialog, Socrates debates with a young religious fanatic named Euthyphro on the nature of religious obedience and poses this question to Euthyphro:

The most extreme medieval advocate of voluntarism was William of Ockham (1285-1349). According to Ockham, God has absolute power and a totally free will. Virtually unconstrained, God first freely wills a specific conception of morality, and then institutes these values through his absolute power. Our conduct is moral or immoral to the extent that we violate God’s will as instituted through his creative power. For Ockham, we know God’s commands through a natural intuitive faculty that informs us of God creative activity.

Argument from Revoking Established Moral Standards. Ockham’s voluntarism creates a paradox: if morality is a creation of God’s will, then God could will whatever moral values he wants, even the exact opposite of present moral values. For example, although God in fact mandates that stealing is wrong, God could have made stealing morally permissible. So too for killing, lying, marital infidelity and even disrespect towards God himself. So, God’s moral commands seem arbitrary. Ockham is willing to accept this paradox and all of its strange implications. For example, Ockham argues that, although God will in fact punish us for being immoral, nothing requires him to do so. And, supposing that we didn’t repent, God could still grant us forgiveness and not punish us, if that’s what God wanted to do. Ockham takes this line of reasoning a step further and suggests that on at least one occasion, God in fact did change the moral rules for someone. According to Ockham, God willed for humankind to be in a condition of original sin, that is, a condition in which we are naturally unable to be righteous. However, at the same time God willed that Mary the mother of Jesus should have the natural ability to be righteous and be totally exempt from original sin. Mary, then, was immaculately conceived in a state of perfection.

Other defenders of voluntarism give illustrations from the Hebrew Bible in which several of the Hebrew patriarchs commit seemingly immoral acts at God's command. Before leaving Egypt, the Israelites are command by God to steal vessels from the Egyptians. Hosea is commanded by God to have sex with an adulteress. The most dramatic of these is when God commands Abraham offer his son as a human sacrifice. At the last minute, as Abraham’s knife is raised in the air, God provides an animal as a substitute. Nevertheless, Abraham’s intent is already fixed and he attempts to carry out the act in accord with God’s will. Stories like these show how God temporarily revokes previously established moral standards for special purposes. The implication, then, is that moral standards are creations of God. Put more formally, the argument is this:

1. If God has the ability to temporarily revoke a moral standard, then he has the power to freely create moral standards.
2. Some divinely inspired texts depict God as temporarily revoking a previously established moral standard.
3. Therefore, God has the power to freely create moral standards.

The greatest limitation of this argument is that it carries weight only for believers within a religious tradition who recognize the authority of specific scriptures. In the case of Old Testament stories from the Bible, there is a sizable number of believers in the authority of these texts, and these people might be compelled by the above argument. Still, since this argument rests on a faith commitment to the authority of Biblical texts, we can say little more about its philosop