Popular books by scientists are selling well these days. Books on the cosmos, the brain, consciousness, evolution of human behavior — and some about all at once — line the bookshelves, each suggesting some picture of reality and humanity.
The classic ontological questions — what is reality? what is the human place in it? — are philosophical in origin, but the answers (so it is told) are now to be given by science. And lately scientists are giving forth even moral theories and prescriptions.
In many of these books philosophy is maligned, both subtextually and overtly, as if it belongs to a receding past of myth and superstition, right alongside religion. In the spheres of ontology, cosmology and even metaphysics, the great achievements of modern physics stand to answer the classic questions of less-scientific ages past. Natural philosophy has been replaced by countless empirical specialties. And for ethics there are "human sciences."
Nonetheless we should remember occasionally that at the core of science, there is a well-reasoned and logical philosophy of science. And a moral statement is a philosophical statement, whether uttered by a scientist or not.
Beginning with the earliest days of rational science, philosophers have perceived challenges for themselves in the ramifications of empirically discovered, systematic laws of nature, validated by experimentation. In response, as far back as Aquinas, philosophy has endeavored to accommodate and use science on one hand and become itself more scientific on the other. Many questions of classic "natural philosophy" indeed have been properly ceded to science. Logic is still viewed as a philosophic enterprise, but even that has become increasingly mathematical, less concerned with rhetoric, and lately strongly forked towards the requirements of artificial intelligence. Despite these developments, philosophy itself has not become a science. Many scientists, indeed, think of it as something alien.
Even in ethics, philosophy has developed a scientific impulse, evident in the Enlightenment attempt to create a completely logical, secular paradigm of morality. Moral laws, so it was hoped, could be discovered and demonstrated with a certainty equal to the laws of nature. Kant is the most visible example, attempting to systematize ethics and even fully reduce it to a few ineluctable principles from which right behavior can be deduced. Appeals to "human nature" as a foundation in ethics contain a scientific impulse as well. Most philosophers also expect moral arguments to be logical. Today's philosophy follows Ayer's (Hume-inspired) emotive model of ethics into scientific territory, supposing morality is built into the psychological makeup of the human animal. All of these efforts attempt to lay some empirical footing under moral theory.
This search for a "moral science" after a quarter-millennium of effort has lately been called a failure (by post-modernists and existentialists for example, and myself — all for different reasons). Despite many attempts and countless approaches, it should be noticed still there is no moral science. There never will be. It's not as much a failure as a chimerical ambition in the first place.
The universe did not form on any moral principle; it is not organized around any moral law. Nature does not contain a moral code. There is no "natural law" of moral good, evil, right or wrong. Science cannot describe something that does not exist. Science can discover no objective moral laws or principles in nature because there aren't any. Therefore science cannot derive objective moral prescriptions.
Not without inventing them like everybody else.
Yet today there are books by scientists claiming that their method can answer moral questions too. To note the splashiest recent example: Sam Harris argues that science can determine human values. He claims to be a moral realist, convinced there are demonstrable moral truths — moral propositions statable in scientifically valid terms as true.
It would be nice if this were so, enabling humankind to adopt appropriate laws and get down to the happy business of living peaceably together. But sadly, moral realism in Harris' sense is false and actually no more than another crock of Plato. The fatal problem is that morality does not consist in propositions that can be proven true or false; it consists in judgments of behavior.
This is not to say science cannot inform ethics. The questions are how, and how much. Logic and reason are valid techniques. The psychology of cooperation (the currently fashionable model) is relevant too: it probably describes a motivation for judging others (the urge for social cooperation is universal). But that is more about the agent than the ethics. The contents of our values and resulting moral codes vary from place to place and over time, and cooperation doesn't justify all moral judgments. (People can cooperate as willingly in genocide as in democracy.) This should indicate that particular judgments cannot be deduced directly from the motive; other processes intercede.
If morality is not based entirely on propositions — that is, if propositions are merely results of several processes bearing upon the relevant psychology — then the realist view (moral propositions can be true or false and some are true) is incomplete, as it misses both the psychology and the process. Therefore, on purely logical grounds, "realism" is an insufficient moral theory. Besides, if I can't see a moral imperative on radar, there's probably nothing real there to shoot down.
The danger in moral realism is not its falseness or ineptitude, however. Instead it is that influential people might believe it.
Today in practice that includes some scientific thinkers, Harris loud among them. Many of them share with him a penchant for utilitarian social engineering and a longing for science-friendly values in charge of public policy. All cling fervently to the simplistic notion that "science is true." This does not, however, guarantee that everything a scientist says is true. Harris conveniently skips the 20th century consensus that moral statements are not scientific, and not provable true or false (Ayer: 1936). Nor is it an established fact that scientific statements are the only type that might be true. Philosophers understand such things. But many scientists positively (and publicly) disdain philosophy, and Harris in particular (despite a PhD in PHI that's great dust jacket PR) proudly proclaims his ignorance of the discipline. In other words, he's philosophically illiterate and doesn't care. Pity that. He turns out to be just another policy-wonking bean-counting utilitarian.
The most pragmatic and prudential iteration of secular moral theory — utilitarianism in several flavors — does stand up to scrutiny better (and is more widely used) than most other moral theories. Policymakers, scientists and philosophers alike see the value in calculation of benefit in ethics — especially on the scale of the state.
But the utilitarian model is far from the paradigm of an objective, necessary moral law. Its particular attraction is calculability. Efficient allocation of resources is its forte. But its special weakness is that in "the greatest good for the greatest number," the good is entirely material, leaving out the mental health of the population.
The Greeks believed soulcraft to be among the duties of the state because a just society depends upon the virtue of its citizens — that is, citizens who understand what justice is. But the classic virtues of ancient philosophies (secular or religious) do not compute in a utilitarian ethic. Utilitarian values need tangible assets; virtues are not quantifiable. This leaves an abysmal blind spot where policy is made: statecraft is administration only. Soulcraft is left behind — as if it were just another vestige of myth, ignorance and superstition.
But utilitarian statecraft, by emphasizing only material resources, guarantees that the moral character of the citizen is ignored, with one exception: the assumption that self-interest rules the world. This disregards and ultimately devalues altruistic impulses, undermines the people's perceptions of common cause and civic duty, and eventually may diminish allegiance to the state.
Morally we are on our own in a materialistic world. Such are the dynamics of a culture which has become increasingly scientific.
Science should not supplant philosophy's prerogatives in ethics. Nor can philosophy's status be discounted to zero in a technocratic culture, at the risk of losing the virtues that sustain free people — including tolerance of multiple viewpoints and intellectually honest dissent. In the long historic quest for a truly civilized society in which justice always prevails, science vs. philosophy is not a matter of turf, but of quality control.
.
The classic ontological questions — what is reality? what is the human place in it? — are philosophical in origin, but the answers (so it is told) are now to be given by science. And lately scientists are giving forth even moral theories and prescriptions.
In many of these books philosophy is maligned, both subtextually and overtly, as if it belongs to a receding past of myth and superstition, right alongside religion. In the spheres of ontology, cosmology and even metaphysics, the great achievements of modern physics stand to answer the classic questions of less-scientific ages past. Natural philosophy has been replaced by countless empirical specialties. And for ethics there are "human sciences."
Nonetheless we should remember occasionally that at the core of science, there is a well-reasoned and logical philosophy of science. And a moral statement is a philosophical statement, whether uttered by a scientist or not.
Beginning with the earliest days of rational science, philosophers have perceived challenges for themselves in the ramifications of empirically discovered, systematic laws of nature, validated by experimentation. In response, as far back as Aquinas, philosophy has endeavored to accommodate and use science on one hand and become itself more scientific on the other. Many questions of classic "natural philosophy" indeed have been properly ceded to science. Logic is still viewed as a philosophic enterprise, but even that has become increasingly mathematical, less concerned with rhetoric, and lately strongly forked towards the requirements of artificial intelligence. Despite these developments, philosophy itself has not become a science. Many scientists, indeed, think of it as something alien.
Even in ethics, philosophy has developed a scientific impulse, evident in the Enlightenment attempt to create a completely logical, secular paradigm of morality. Moral laws, so it was hoped, could be discovered and demonstrated with a certainty equal to the laws of nature. Kant is the most visible example, attempting to systematize ethics and even fully reduce it to a few ineluctable principles from which right behavior can be deduced. Appeals to "human nature" as a foundation in ethics contain a scientific impulse as well. Most philosophers also expect moral arguments to be logical. Today's philosophy follows Ayer's (Hume-inspired) emotive model of ethics into scientific territory, supposing morality is built into the psychological makeup of the human animal. All of these efforts attempt to lay some empirical footing under moral theory.
This search for a "moral science" after a quarter-millennium of effort has lately been called a failure (by post-modernists and existentialists for example, and myself — all for different reasons). Despite many attempts and countless approaches, it should be noticed still there is no moral science. There never will be. It's not as much a failure as a chimerical ambition in the first place.
The universe did not form on any moral principle; it is not organized around any moral law. Nature does not contain a moral code. There is no "natural law" of moral good, evil, right or wrong. Science cannot describe something that does not exist. Science can discover no objective moral laws or principles in nature because there aren't any. Therefore science cannot derive objective moral prescriptions.
Not without inventing them like everybody else.
Yet today there are books by scientists claiming that their method can answer moral questions too. To note the splashiest recent example: Sam Harris argues that science can determine human values. He claims to be a moral realist, convinced there are demonstrable moral truths — moral propositions statable in scientifically valid terms as true.
It would be nice if this were so, enabling humankind to adopt appropriate laws and get down to the happy business of living peaceably together. But sadly, moral realism in Harris' sense is false and actually no more than another crock of Plato. The fatal problem is that morality does not consist in propositions that can be proven true or false; it consists in judgments of behavior.
This is not to say science cannot inform ethics. The questions are how, and how much. Logic and reason are valid techniques. The psychology of cooperation (the currently fashionable model) is relevant too: it probably describes a motivation for judging others (the urge for social cooperation is universal). But that is more about the agent than the ethics. The contents of our values and resulting moral codes vary from place to place and over time, and cooperation doesn't justify all moral judgments. (People can cooperate as willingly in genocide as in democracy.) This should indicate that particular judgments cannot be deduced directly from the motive; other processes intercede.
If morality is not based entirely on propositions — that is, if propositions are merely results of several processes bearing upon the relevant psychology — then the realist view (moral propositions can be true or false and some are true) is incomplete, as it misses both the psychology and the process. Therefore, on purely logical grounds, "realism" is an insufficient moral theory. Besides, if I can't see a moral imperative on radar, there's probably nothing real there to shoot down.
The danger in moral realism is not its falseness or ineptitude, however. Instead it is that influential people might believe it.
Today in practice that includes some scientific thinkers, Harris loud among them. Many of them share with him a penchant for utilitarian social engineering and a longing for science-friendly values in charge of public policy. All cling fervently to the simplistic notion that "science is true." This does not, however, guarantee that everything a scientist says is true. Harris conveniently skips the 20th century consensus that moral statements are not scientific, and not provable true or false (Ayer: 1936). Nor is it an established fact that scientific statements are the only type that might be true. Philosophers understand such things. But many scientists positively (and publicly) disdain philosophy, and Harris in particular (despite a PhD in PHI that's great dust jacket PR) proudly proclaims his ignorance of the discipline. In other words, he's philosophically illiterate and doesn't care. Pity that. He turns out to be just another policy-wonking bean-counting utilitarian.
The most pragmatic and prudential iteration of secular moral theory — utilitarianism in several flavors — does stand up to scrutiny better (and is more widely used) than most other moral theories. Policymakers, scientists and philosophers alike see the value in calculation of benefit in ethics — especially on the scale of the state.
But the utilitarian model is far from the paradigm of an objective, necessary moral law. Its particular attraction is calculability. Efficient allocation of resources is its forte. But its special weakness is that in "the greatest good for the greatest number," the good is entirely material, leaving out the mental health of the population.
The Greeks believed soulcraft to be among the duties of the state because a just society depends upon the virtue of its citizens — that is, citizens who understand what justice is. But the classic virtues of ancient philosophies (secular or religious) do not compute in a utilitarian ethic. Utilitarian values need tangible assets; virtues are not quantifiable. This leaves an abysmal blind spot where policy is made: statecraft is administration only. Soulcraft is left behind — as if it were just another vestige of myth, ignorance and superstition.
But utilitarian statecraft, by emphasizing only material resources, guarantees that the moral character of the citizen is ignored, with one exception: the assumption that self-interest rules the world. This disregards and ultimately devalues altruistic impulses, undermines the people's perceptions of common cause and civic duty, and eventually may diminish allegiance to the state.
Morally we are on our own in a materialistic world. Such are the dynamics of a culture which has become increasingly scientific.
Science should not supplant philosophy's prerogatives in ethics. Nor can philosophy's status be discounted to zero in a technocratic culture, at the risk of losing the virtues that sustain free people — including tolerance of multiple viewpoints and intellectually honest dissent. In the long historic quest for a truly civilized society in which justice always prevails, science vs. philosophy is not a matter of turf, but of quality control.
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Pro philosophers: Refrain from bleeding until actually shot. Weep at will.
--GC