We hear a lot these days about the dangers of moral relativism, or about what happens in a society that has abandoned its commitment to objective morals. This was a theme touched upon in David Cameron’s recent speech on the King James Bible, which we covered in the recent January Christian Voice newsletter. This emphasis on objective morals is important, but it is equally important to remind ourselves what moral relativism looks like on ground level.
Earlier in the week for his Breakpoint program, Chuck Colson told about the recent experience of Dr. Stephen Anderson, who teaches philosophy at A.B. Lucas Secondary School in Ontario, Canada. His students had just finished a unit on metaphysics and were about to start one on ethics. Colson writes about Dr. Anderson’s plan for getting the conversation about ethics going.
Bibi Aisha, the teenage wife of a Taliban fighter in Afghanistan. When Bibi tried to get away from her abusive husband, her family caught her, cut off her nose and ears, and left her to die in the mountains.
To jump start the discussion and to “form a baseline from which they could begin to ask questions about the legitimacy of moral judgments of all kinds,” Anderson shared with them a gruesome photo of Bibi Aisha, a teenage wife of a Taliban fighter in Afghanistan. When Bibi tried to get away from her abusive husband, her family caught her, cut off her nose and ears, and left her to die in the mountains. Only Bibi didn’t die. Somehow she crawled to her grandfather’s house, and was saved in an American hospital.
Writing in Education Journal magazine, Anderson relates how he was sure that his students, “seeing the suffering of this poor girl of their own age, [they] would have a clear ethical reaction,” one they could talk about “more difficult cases.”
But their response shocked Anderson. “[He] expected strong aversion [to it], … but that’s not what I got. Instead, they became confused . . . afraid to make any moral judgment at all. They were unwilling to criticize,” as he said, “any situation originating in a different culture. They said, ‘Well, we might not like it, but maybe over there it’s okay.’”
Anderson calls their confusion and refusal to judge such child mutilation a moment of startling clarity, and indeed it is. He wonders if it stems not from too little education, but from too much multiculturalism and so-called “values education,” which is really just an excuse for moral relativism.
Anderson writes, “While we may hope some [students] are capable of bridging the gap between principled morality and this ethically vacuous relativism, it is evident that a good many are not. For them, the overriding message is ‘never judge, never criticize, never take a position.’” Anderson wonders whether in our current educational system, we’re not producing ethical paralytics? Well, if the horrifying example of the students’ reaction in this case is any indication, Anderson already knows the answer.
Unfortunately Anderson is right. Thanks to relativism, political correctness, multiculturalism, postmodernism, and countless other isms, a generation of young people have been left hesitant to criticize moral atrocities when those atrocities are rooted in a different cultural tradition. How can I say that something that would be wrong for me (or even us) to do is also wrong for people with a different background?
This cultural relativism was condemned by Sam Harris in his book The Moral Landscape. “While few philosophers have ever answered to the name of ‘moral relativist” Sam Harris wrote, “it is by no means uncommon to find local eruptions of this view whenever scientists and other academics encounter moral diversity.” Harris continued:
Forcing women and girls to wear burqas may be wrong in Boston or Palo Alto, so the argument will run, but we cannot say that it is wrong for Muslims in Kabul…. Moral relativism, however, tends to be self-contradictory. Relativists may say that moral truths exist only relative to a specific cultural framework – but this claim about the status of moral truth purports to be true across all possible frameworks. In practice, relativism almost always amounts to the claim that we should be tolerant of moral difference because no moral truth can supersede any other. And yet this commitment to tolerance is not put forward a simple one relative preference among others deemed equally valid. Rather, tolerance is held to be more in line with the (universal) truth about morality than intolerance is.
The interesting thing is that Sam Harris is himself an atheist and a materialistic determinists. Moral absolutes can and do exist, he asserts, but they are rooted in neither God nor biological evolution. Rather, they are grounded in neuroscience. This is the thesis of Harris’ entire book, which we have reviewed in the January Christian Voice newsletter. (To join Christian Voice and receive a copy of our newsletter, click here.) We have shown in our book review that the reductionist account of morality that Harris offers ultimately lapses into the very relativism he is so keen to avoid. For example, Harris writes that each of us
is like a phenomenological glockenspiel played by an unseen hand. From the perspective of your conscious mind, you are no more responsible for the next thing you think (and therefore do) that you are for the fact that you were born into this world.” (p. 104)
“Gazzaniga is surely correct to say that ‘in neurosceintific terms, no person is more or less responsible than any other for actions.’ Conscious actions arise on the basis of neural events of which we are not conscious. Whether they are predictable or not, we do not cause our causes.” (p. 217)
Just think about that: if you and I have no control over what we do, and if we are not responsible for any of our actions, then how can moral values exist in any objective sense? Indeed, within the framework of the scientific determinism that Harris espouses, it is impossible to say that what happened to Bibi Aisha is ultimately wrong in any objective sense.
Indeed, within the framework of the scientific determinism that Harris espouses, it is impossible to say that what happened to Bibi Aisha is ultimately wrong in any objective sense.
That last sentence indicates that either you’ve not read the book, or you didn’t understand it. The problem is likely that you can only think of things being objectively wrong with respect to a final arbiter – presumably God.
I have read the book and Harris’ own statements fully warrant the conclusion which you cite above.
Let me explain.
Where Harris goes wrong is when he takes his observations about the human brain and then tries to use them as the basis for a comprehensive theory of moral values. He can only achieve this by first subtly redefining goodness to mean human well-being and then reducing well-being to pleasure and finally reducing pleasure to brain-states that can be scientifically analyzed.
Harris’ entire project thus hinges on the assumption that being good and feeling good are equivalent conditions. He then conflates this subjective view of well-being with objective moral behaviour without bothering to fill in the gap. The gap, of course, is precisely what Peter Hitchens identified in his book The Rage Against God which is that without a transcendent standard external to ourselves, moral values inevitably collapse into subjectivity. If you think otherwise, you will have to establish that through argumentation.
To his credit, Harris does seem to recognize this as a potential objection to his argument. However, he is cavalier in dismissing the relevance of this line of thought, saying:
“So how much time should we spend worrying about such a transcendent source of value? I think the time I will spend typing this sentence is already too much.”
Where then do values come from without a transcendent source? Harris’s answer is that they arise from correct reflection on the facts of human experience, especially the facts that either contribute to or diminish from human well-being. Because these facts can be scientifically measured and understood through attention to the human brain, it is possible to construct a theory of ethics based entirely upon science. Harris is very clear about this, as the following quotations indicate:
“Values, therefore, translate into facts that can be scientifically understood…” (p. 1)
“The more we understand ourselves at the level of the brain, the more we will see that there are right and wrong answers to questions of human values.” (p. 2)
“…moral truth can be understood in the context of science.” (p. 2)
“There are facts to be understood about how thoughts and intentions arise in the human brain… We will see that facts of this sort exhaust what we can reasonably mean by terms like ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ (p. 4)
“…we define ‘good’ as that which supports well-being… It seems clear that what we are really asking when we wonder whether a certain state of pleasure is ‘good,’ is whether it is conducive to, or obstructive of, some deeper form of well-being…” (p. 12)
“…I am arguing that science can, in principle, help us understand what we should do and should want – and, therefore, what other people should do and should want in order to live the best lives possible.” (p. 28)
“…science can resolve specific questions about morality and human values, even while our conception of ‘well-being’ evolves.” (p. 37)
“I believe that we will increasingly understand good and evil, right and wrong, in scientific terms, because moral concerns translate into facts about how our thoughts and behaviors affect the well-being of conscious creatures like ourselves.” (p. 62)
It is important to understand what Harris is not saying. He is not claiming that science can presently explain all the questions that arise about right and wrong. However, even where Harris acknowledges that answers may not be possible in practice, he does think it is possible in principle for all questions about moral values to eventually be answered by science. Indeed, because Harris reduces good and evil to chemical reactions in the brain, he even thinks it is theoretically possible that scientists may one day be able to find a ‘cure’ for evil. For example, Harris imagines a pill that people can take with their meals that would make it impossible for them to do anything evil for the rest of the day.
Because Harris argumentation leaves so much to be desired, he is left with no option but to continually appeal to the common sense of his reader. The book is peppered with dogmatic statements such as, “I think there is little doubt” or “it seems uncontroversial.” Most of the time Harris can get away with this since he appeals to obvious examples that few of his readers would dispute, such as the wrongness of torturing children or the inappropriateness of Islamic terrorism. Having then secured the agreement of the reader with these seemingly black-and-white cases, Harris goes on to draw philosophical inferences which hinge on hidden assumptions that he never bothers to make explicit.
One of Harris’s hidden assumptions is a radically consequentialist theory of ethics. Another assumption which Harris never bothers to actually substantiate is that the mind and brain are the same. Since these and many other philosophical assumptions are integral to Harris’ entire project, it is unsatisfying that he does not bother to defend them.
One of the reasons that Harris can be so dogmatic is that he has arranged the categories of his argument so that his conclusions become tautologically true. Since he redefines the word ‘good’ to mean ‘the well-being of conscious creatures’, when he asserts that it is good to maximize a creature’s well-being good’ he is essentially saying that maximizing a creature’s well-being helps towards the well-being of conscious creatures. While this is tautologically obvious if we accept Harris’s re-definition of the good, it is viciously circular and therefore communicates nothing meaningful to the reader.
We can also question Harris’s assumption that human well-being is ultimately good. Indeed, if the atheist account of the universe is the correct one, it is hard to see what objective grounds we could have for knowing that human well-being is objectively valuable. If we are all the random products of time plus chance, why would we be obligated to privilege human well-being over the well-being of an insect or a cabbage?
The claim that neuroscience is capable of explaining good and evil is certainly intriguing, but it is significant that Harris can only postulate this after first carefully redefining good and evil in non-moral terms. And I freely admit that once goodness has been made equivalent to well-being, and once well-being has been made equivalent to pleasure, there is much that brain-science can tell us, just as there is much that brain science can tell us about how elephants and cats experience pleasure. What I dispute is that such observations bring us any closer to understanding questions of ultimate meaning and value.
Harris seems to concede the point, because on page 104 he writes,
…each of us is like a phenomenological glockenspiel played by an unseen hand. From the perspective of your conscious mind, you are no more responsible for the next thing you think (and therefore do) that you are for the fact that you were born into this world.” (p. 104)
And again on page 217 he writes,
“Gazzaniga is surely correct to say that ‘in neurosceintific terms, no person is more or less responsible than any other for actions.’ Conscious actions arise on the basis of neural events of which we are not conscious. Whether they are predictable or not, we do not cause our causes.”
Just think about that Dan: if you and I have no control over what we do, and if we are not responsible for any of our actions, then it is hard to see how moral values can be said to exist. Indeed, within the framework of the scientific determinism that Harris espouses, objective ethical values cannot have any ultimate legitimacy.
if you and I have no control over what we do, and if we are not responsible for any of our actions, then it is hard to see how moral values can be said to exist
I disagree. Just because we were always going to do something, doesn’t mean the thing is not bad or good, or that we should escape punishment for it. Is it only the case that we should be made accountable for our actions if we have some magical ability to counter cause and effect?
Regarding the rest of your post, it again all seems to hinge on you finding the idea of objective morality without a supernatural rudder a contradiction in terms. I’m absolutely fine with his definition of good / bad. It’s not about individual pleasure as such, it’s about actions that increase or decrease the wellbeing of conscious creatures, which as far as we are aware are the only things in the universe capable of suffering or happiness.
That seems to me a far more sensible way to look at it than “What the man upstairs wants or doesn’t”. The God approach brings with it all the problems posed by those who claim to know what He wants.
Think about it this way Dan. Harris does not come up with moral values, but he comes up with beliefs about morality. But if we never have access to the springs of action that cause our belief states (which is the case if what he says on pages 104 and 217 is correct) then we cannot know whether these causes are aiming at producing true beleifs, with the consequence that there is little reason if any to think that our beliefs about morality are in fact true.
You wrote
Regarding the rest of your post, it again all seems to hinge on you finding the idea of objective morality without a supernatural rudder a contradiction in terms. I’m absolutely fine with his definition of good / bad. It’s not about individual pleasure as such, it’s about actions that increase or decrease the wellbeing of conscious creatures, which as far as we are aware are the only things in the universe capable of suffering or happiness.
Unless you can support this with argument, you are simply being dogmatic and restating your conclusion. I challenge you to support these claims with logical argumentation.
The matter is not if we “always” do something, but if we are determined to do it, then it seems that we are not the locus of responsibility. Responsibility accrues to the cause of an action and if I am not the cause, then it is difficult to see how I am responsible. As Neitzche quipped, the person is just a fiction added to the deed. Secondly, if my actions are determined then what difference is there between me and cases of a manipulated agents? In later cases we don’t take the agent to be responsible and so it seems we aren’t in a position to take the former agents as responsible either.
The definition of good and bad as maximizing well-being of conscious creatures doesn’t do any real work here. Here is why. It may be true that some actions may increase such “well being” and others may decrease it, but the value of said acts is relative to establishing the value of the goal that they are oriented towards. If that goal has no value, if there aren’t any values at all in the natural world, then the actions have no moral value either.
It also maybe the case that nature procudes certain beliefs in you concerning well being and such, but since nature doesn’t aim at truth on a naturalistic model, how would one go about finding out if such beliefs were in fact true? Putting aside the obvious reference problem that such values aren’t detectable, It isn’t the case that all people have such a belief and further than neither you, nor those that lack it are in a priviledgd position to evaluate the truth of those beleifs.
But further still, it is exactly the notion of eudaimonia connected with clourshing that has proved so problematic in contemporary virtue ethics such that it has practically brought us back to the spectre of moral relativism. Flourishing is culture and perhaps individual specific. Attilla the Hun “flourished” but was he moral? No.
The only logical argument I can see to be made is that it’s more sensible to define moral values with respect to states we feel and share with other beings than by recourse to a superior agency not demonstrated to exist.
I can’t prove that it’s wrong to increase the suffering of conscious creatures, just I can’t prove that it’s right to increase it – unless we can agree what right and wrong are – and I for one can’t think of better definitions than those.
I have no idea what you believe, although the address of this website and the amusing evolution video you posted would seem to suggest that you’d define them as “What God wants” and “What God doesn’t want” – and that just won’t cut it for me. Even if I thought he existed, I would have no way of knowing that my conjectures about what he wanted were correct, or how to trust or distrust those who made claims about his wants.
I can’t see why you’d think there are such things as moral values at all, simply based on the beleifs that are produced in a specific species by blind proceses. Why think there are moral values at all?
You may not see any other more sensible framework, but what inference is there from, I can’t see anything more sensible, to, therefore what I hold to be sensible is so? I for one can’t see how to connect those two ideas, but perhaps you can explain it to me.
The first paragraph of your last comment is circular reasoning since you can only say “it’s more sensible” if you have first assumed your conclusion. Arguing to a conclusion with premises that implicitly assume your conclusion is a perilous way to proceed. Indeed, using that approach you could prove literally anything.
Regarding your other points, I would be happy to address them after you have responded to the argumentation I presented regarding Sam Harris’ determinism, since this was a direct response to your earlier comment.
I didn’t notice anything worthy of response in the post you’re talking about. You seemed to be asking me for a logical argument for me being fine with his definition of good / bad. As I said – the only logical argument I can see is that I can’t see any more sensible framework to base moral values on than the wellbeing of conscious creatures. I notice you try to reduce this to “pleasure” which implies a narrower sense of wellbeing in order to make it seem shallow.
You then talking about “springs of action that caused our belief states” and the rest of that paragraph which was essentially “HEY MAN HOW DO WE KNOW OUR BRAINS ARE THINKING RIGHT” – if you go down that road, there’s no point using reason at all so you might as well abandon the whole idea of rational thought.
I don’t really give a hoot if you address my points or not – I just wanted to make the point that just because something was always going to happen doesn’t mean can’t be morally judged, and that if you constrain your idea of what might make morals objectively true to the notion of an external arbiter, then you’ve defined yourself out of any rational argument.
My posts aren’t really intended for you to answer, as from reading what you write here and elsewhere it’s clear we’re on very different wavelengths, but might be handy for others who wander past this page and see that your biased cherry picking doesn’t go unnoticed.
Dan, you still haven’t done business with Perry Robinson’s counter-argumentation that he offered in response to your earlier assertions. Any particular reason?
Perry, you wrote, “Responsibility accrues to the cause of an action and if I am not the cause, then it is difficult to see how I am responsible.” Are you talking here about only primary causes and not instrumental causes?
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Indeed, within the framework of the scientific determinism that Harris espouses, it is impossible to say that what happened to Bibi Aisha is ultimately wrong in any objective sense.
That last sentence indicates that either you’ve not read the book, or you didn’t understand it. The problem is likely that you can only think of things being objectively wrong with respect to a final arbiter – presumably God.
Dan,
I have read the book and Harris’ own statements fully warrant the conclusion which you cite above.
Let me explain.
Where Harris goes wrong is when he takes his observations about the human brain and then tries to use them as the basis for a comprehensive theory of moral values. He can only achieve this by first subtly redefining goodness to mean human well-being and then reducing well-being to pleasure and finally reducing pleasure to brain-states that can be scientifically analyzed.
Harris’ entire project thus hinges on the assumption that being good and feeling good are equivalent conditions. He then conflates this subjective view of well-being with objective moral behaviour without bothering to fill in the gap. The gap, of course, is precisely what Peter Hitchens identified in his book The Rage Against God which is that without a transcendent standard external to ourselves, moral values inevitably collapse into subjectivity. If you think otherwise, you will have to establish that through argumentation.
To his credit, Harris does seem to recognize this as a potential objection to his argument. However, he is cavalier in dismissing the relevance of this line of thought, saying:
“So how much time should we spend worrying about such a transcendent source of value? I think the time I will spend typing this sentence is already too much.”
Where then do values come from without a transcendent source? Harris’s answer is that they arise from correct reflection on the facts of human experience, especially the facts that either contribute to or diminish from human well-being. Because these facts can be scientifically measured and understood through attention to the human brain, it is possible to construct a theory of ethics based entirely upon science. Harris is very clear about this, as the following quotations indicate:
“Values, therefore, translate into facts that can be scientifically understood…” (p. 1)
“The more we understand ourselves at the level of the brain, the more we will see that there are right and wrong answers to questions of human values.” (p. 2)
“…moral truth can be understood in the context of science.” (p. 2)
“There are facts to be understood about how thoughts and intentions arise in the human brain… We will see that facts of this sort exhaust what we can reasonably mean by terms like ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ (p. 4)
“…we define ‘good’ as that which supports well-being… It seems clear that what we are really asking when we wonder whether a certain state of pleasure is ‘good,’ is whether it is conducive to, or obstructive of, some deeper form of well-being…” (p. 12)
“…I am arguing that science can, in principle, help us understand what we should do and should want – and, therefore, what other people should do and should want in order to live the best lives possible.” (p. 28)
“…science can resolve specific questions about morality and human values, even while our conception of ‘well-being’ evolves.” (p. 37)
“I believe that we will increasingly understand good and evil, right and wrong, in scientific terms, because moral concerns translate into facts about how our thoughts and behaviors affect the well-being of conscious creatures like ourselves.” (p. 62)
It is important to understand what Harris is not saying. He is not claiming that science can presently explain all the questions that arise about right and wrong. However, even where Harris acknowledges that answers may not be possible in practice, he does think it is possible in principle for all questions about moral values to eventually be answered by science. Indeed, because Harris reduces good and evil to chemical reactions in the brain, he even thinks it is theoretically possible that scientists may one day be able to find a ‘cure’ for evil. For example, Harris imagines a pill that people can take with their meals that would make it impossible for them to do anything evil for the rest of the day.
Because Harris argumentation leaves so much to be desired, he is left with no option but to continually appeal to the common sense of his reader. The book is peppered with dogmatic statements such as, “I think there is little doubt” or “it seems uncontroversial.” Most of the time Harris can get away with this since he appeals to obvious examples that few of his readers would dispute, such as the wrongness of torturing children or the inappropriateness of Islamic terrorism. Having then secured the agreement of the reader with these seemingly black-and-white cases, Harris goes on to draw philosophical inferences which hinge on hidden assumptions that he never bothers to make explicit.
One of Harris’s hidden assumptions is a radically consequentialist theory of ethics. Another assumption which Harris never bothers to actually substantiate is that the mind and brain are the same. Since these and many other philosophical assumptions are integral to Harris’ entire project, it is unsatisfying that he does not bother to defend them.
One of the reasons that Harris can be so dogmatic is that he has arranged the categories of his argument so that his conclusions become tautologically true. Since he redefines the word ‘good’ to mean ‘the well-being of conscious creatures’, when he asserts that it is good to maximize a creature’s well-being good’ he is essentially saying that maximizing a creature’s well-being helps towards the well-being of conscious creatures. While this is tautologically obvious if we accept Harris’s re-definition of the good, it is viciously circular and therefore communicates nothing meaningful to the reader.
We can also question Harris’s assumption that human well-being is ultimately good. Indeed, if the atheist account of the universe is the correct one, it is hard to see what objective grounds we could have for knowing that human well-being is objectively valuable. If we are all the random products of time plus chance, why would we be obligated to privilege human well-being over the well-being of an insect or a cabbage?
The claim that neuroscience is capable of explaining good and evil is certainly intriguing, but it is significant that Harris can only postulate this after first carefully redefining good and evil in non-moral terms. And I freely admit that once goodness has been made equivalent to well-being, and once well-being has been made equivalent to pleasure, there is much that brain-science can tell us, just as there is much that brain science can tell us about how elephants and cats experience pleasure. What I dispute is that such observations bring us any closer to understanding questions of ultimate meaning and value.
Harris seems to concede the point, because on page 104 he writes,
And again on page 217 he writes,
Just think about that Dan: if you and I have no control over what we do, and if we are not responsible for any of our actions, then it is hard to see how moral values can be said to exist. Indeed, within the framework of the scientific determinism that Harris espouses, objective ethical values cannot have any ultimate legitimacy.
To address your last point first:
if you and I have no control over what we do, and if we are not responsible for any of our actions, then it is hard to see how moral values can be said to exist
I disagree. Just because we were always going to do something, doesn’t mean the thing is not bad or good, or that we should escape punishment for it. Is it only the case that we should be made accountable for our actions if we have some magical ability to counter cause and effect?
Regarding the rest of your post, it again all seems to hinge on you finding the idea of objective morality without a supernatural rudder a contradiction in terms. I’m absolutely fine with his definition of good / bad. It’s not about individual pleasure as such, it’s about actions that increase or decrease the wellbeing of conscious creatures, which as far as we are aware are the only things in the universe capable of suffering or happiness.
That seems to me a far more sensible way to look at it than “What the man upstairs wants or doesn’t”. The God approach brings with it all the problems posed by those who claim to know what He wants.
Think about it this way Dan. Harris does not come up with moral values, but he comes up with beliefs about morality. But if we never have access to the springs of action that cause our belief states (which is the case if what he says on pages 104 and 217 is correct) then we cannot know whether these causes are aiming at producing true beleifs, with the consequence that there is little reason if any to think that our beliefs about morality are in fact true.
You wrote
Unless you can support this with argument, you are simply being dogmatic and restating your conclusion. I challenge you to support these claims with logical argumentation.
The matter is not if we “always” do something, but if we are determined to do it, then it seems that we are not the locus of responsibility. Responsibility accrues to the cause of an action and if I am not the cause, then it is difficult to see how I am responsible. As Neitzche quipped, the person is just a fiction added to the deed. Secondly, if my actions are determined then what difference is there between me and cases of a manipulated agents? In later cases we don’t take the agent to be responsible and so it seems we aren’t in a position to take the former agents as responsible either.
The definition of good and bad as maximizing well-being of conscious creatures doesn’t do any real work here. Here is why. It may be true that some actions may increase such “well being” and others may decrease it, but the value of said acts is relative to establishing the value of the goal that they are oriented towards. If that goal has no value, if there aren’t any values at all in the natural world, then the actions have no moral value either.
It also maybe the case that nature procudes certain beliefs in you concerning well being and such, but since nature doesn’t aim at truth on a naturalistic model, how would one go about finding out if such beliefs were in fact true? Putting aside the obvious reference problem that such values aren’t detectable, It isn’t the case that all people have such a belief and further than neither you, nor those that lack it are in a priviledgd position to evaluate the truth of those beleifs.
But further still, it is exactly the notion of eudaimonia connected with clourshing that has proved so problematic in contemporary virtue ethics such that it has practically brought us back to the spectre of moral relativism. Flourishing is culture and perhaps individual specific. Attilla the Hun “flourished” but was he moral? No.
The only logical argument I can see to be made is that it’s more sensible to define moral values with respect to states we feel and share with other beings than by recourse to a superior agency not demonstrated to exist.
I can’t prove that it’s wrong to increase the suffering of conscious creatures, just I can’t prove that it’s right to increase it – unless we can agree what right and wrong are – and I for one can’t think of better definitions than those.
I have no idea what you believe, although the address of this website and the amusing evolution video you posted would seem to suggest that you’d define them as “What God wants” and “What God doesn’t want” – and that just won’t cut it for me. Even if I thought he existed, I would have no way of knowing that my conjectures about what he wanted were correct, or how to trust or distrust those who made claims about his wants.
Dan,
I can’t see why you’d think there are such things as moral values at all, simply based on the beleifs that are produced in a specific species by blind proceses. Why think there are moral values at all?
You may not see any other more sensible framework, but what inference is there from, I can’t see anything more sensible, to, therefore what I hold to be sensible is so? I for one can’t see how to connect those two ideas, but perhaps you can explain it to me.
The first paragraph of your last comment is circular reasoning since you can only say “it’s more sensible” if you have first assumed your conclusion. Arguing to a conclusion with premises that implicitly assume your conclusion is a perilous way to proceed. Indeed, using that approach you could prove literally anything.
Regarding your other points, I would be happy to address them after you have responded to the argumentation I presented regarding Sam Harris’ determinism, since this was a direct response to your earlier comment.
I didn’t notice anything worthy of response in the post you’re talking about. You seemed to be asking me for a logical argument for me being fine with his definition of good / bad. As I said – the only logical argument I can see is that I can’t see any more sensible framework to base moral values on than the wellbeing of conscious creatures. I notice you try to reduce this to “pleasure” which implies a narrower sense of wellbeing in order to make it seem shallow.
You then talking about “springs of action that caused our belief states” and the rest of that paragraph which was essentially “HEY MAN HOW DO WE KNOW OUR BRAINS ARE THINKING RIGHT” – if you go down that road, there’s no point using reason at all so you might as well abandon the whole idea of rational thought.
I don’t really give a hoot if you address my points or not – I just wanted to make the point that just because something was always going to happen doesn’t mean can’t be morally judged, and that if you constrain your idea of what might make morals objectively true to the notion of an external arbiter, then you’ve defined yourself out of any rational argument.
My posts aren’t really intended for you to answer, as from reading what you write here and elsewhere it’s clear we’re on very different wavelengths, but might be handy for others who wander past this page and see that your biased cherry picking doesn’t go unnoticed.
Dan, you still haven’t done business with Perry Robinson’s counter-argumentation that he offered in response to your earlier assertions. Any particular reason?
Perry, you wrote, “Responsibility accrues to the cause of an action and if I am not the cause, then it is difficult to see how I am responsible.” Are you talking here about only primary causes and not instrumental causes?
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