About Ethics, Again

"19. ... Mere knowledge of right and wrong will not make one fit for salvation. ..."

The Bhagavad-Gita according to Gandhi, p. 19.

Intentions

This is an old chestnut, a contentious area of Philosophy usually considered as "intentionality." Many philosophers prefer the last form, as it seems to point to something beyond, a condition or state. I prefer the basic noun, as I think of intentions as something a creature has or as something attributed to the creature. Because intentions are subjective, only the possessor could know whether it has an intention; everyone else is just guessing.

Nonetheless, major efforts have been made to make something more, something public, of intentions. To say that intentionality applies on a being is just to say that the being's intentions participate in a non-subjective world, a world defined or characterized by generally applicable terms. Accepting the notion of intentionality is half the battle for those pushing the notion, for it moves the discussion outside of individual brains to some hypothesized external world. That is exactly why I do not like the term.

How do I know what you are thinking? How do I know what you intend (plan) to do? The answer is truly simple, as stated above: I make a guess based on my experience. While philosophers have made much of intentionality, they have done so by making a major mistake: projecting themselves onto the world. That is, because I believe or feel I intend to do something, I believe my intentions are obvious to everyone else. What is going on with me (subjectively) is somehow going on in the world (objectively). I think that inference is plainly false and evidence of its falsity abounds, but it is a natural and comforting assumption to make. The reason such an assumption is natural is that my brain presents myself to me in the same way that it presents other experiences to me; i.e., I "see" myself and my intentions as external objects.

I think careful observation of others will reveal the deceit neural mechanisms practice on oneself. I have lived under the same roof with the same woman (my significant other) for nearly 3 decades. I have a pretty good idea of what she will do on any given day or hour, simply because her behavior falls into a discernable pattern. For example, I am almost certain she will rise at a certain hour, go to work an hour later and return home at given times during the day. From those observations, I infer her "intentions" about the day, her work, her home and me. But, since she is not a highly verbal person, it would be unusual for her to tell me what she plans to do. (Although, lately, she has been more forthcoming, probably because she wants to reassure me that someone will be around in case I need help due to my increasing disabilities.) Now, other than what she states, or what I can guess from her appearance or movements, what do I know about her intentions as she knows them?  I think the answer is obvious: "Nothing!" Of course people who have been acquainted for a long time feel they "know" the other. Another's intentions seem real enough even though we are not brain-connected Siamese twins. We have to go back to the beginning of the relationship to see how that knowledge was acquired. My experience is that, in the beginning of an acquaintance, I have no idea what the other person intends. All that is something learned in good time.

Intentions are something animals, not plants, have. Intentions are associated with being mobile and having a brain. I have observed the behavior of phototropic plants which I explain as entirely automatic, ultimately controlled by genes. Similarly, it seems obvious that most simple animals are robots, not complex, thinking beings. When I attribute "intentions" to ants and rats, I do so in the knowledge that their activities are programmed, even if a portion of their behavior is learned. I can accurately predict what an ant or rat will do, if I study them enough. In the same manner, I, a computer expert, will have a pretty good idea what a computerized machine will do once I have studied its mechanical design and software. On the other hand, I have no idea what to expect of the lions, elephants and rhinos I might encounter during an African safari. I don't even know what the coyotes and cougars who live in this area will do when confronted. (Northern California is a lot wilder than most people believe. I like it that way, but would have to rely on the advice of local wildlife experts if endangered.) People who live among lions and rhinos learn how those animals behave from an early age, so are able to read their intentions. In my younger days, I encountered a (now rare) brown bear on a solo hike in the Marble Mountains near the California-Oregon border. Luckily, I was downwind and far enough away, so I avoided the bear and am here to tell the story.

Again, my point is simple enough: only I can have seemingly certain knowledge of my intentions. What others intend, whether human or animal, is learned from my experience of them. But it is even worse than that: I frequently do not know my own intentions! I read a summary in Science of a recent study which showed the brain actually initiated actions before the subject became aware of them. I never had experiences confirming that research until the last year or two, so would not have believed the report until recently. Now, probably as a result of brain aging (aka senility),  it is not unusual for me to set out to do one thing, but actually do another, realizing later that I still need to do what I first "intended." For example, at certain times I need to take the pills prescribed for me. After discovering it is time for pills, I sometimes get up from my chair and walk to the kitchen, on the way passing the bathroom where pills are stored. After doing something or other in the kitchen, I go back to my chair and sit down. Later, sometimes much later, I am surprised to learn I have not taken my pills, although I completed some other purpose. I have to push myself out of the chair again and go take the pills, all the while hoping I will actually arrive at the intended destination. (That usually, but not always, works the second time, so I have had to institute checks on pill taking.) When reviewing my recent behavior, I found I really had planned on going to the kitchen but intended to do so after taking my pills. What happened is my brain inverted the order of events, or maybe it jumped the gun, for reasons I do not know, and then forgot about the suppressed event since the planned sequence had reached its end. I believe the problem is order inversion, since, in other situations, I have discovered myself trying to do a planned step before doing its prerequisite. For example, you have to start a bolt and nut before tightening it, but I have found myself trying to apply a tool before setting up the assembly. (How stupid can one get?!) Similar things happen to me in the course of composing and typing (this article, for instance). Sometimes, my brain simply takes over a planned agenda - such as doing the laundry or cooking something - without notifying me of my intentions or why I am doing it. I just find myself putting laundry into the washing machine, washing dishes or getting dressed. I realize those tasks were on my to-do list, so I must have intended to do them, but I never had any conscious intention of doing them when I did. I do not know why this happens to me, although I believe my aging brain no longer co-ordinates events very well. I do know similar problems plague other old folks. When I discover there is a sequencing problem, or that I forgot to do something, I also realize I intended to do what was not accomplished; i.e., all too often, I do not know my own intentions; I just do things.

For me, an interesting sidelight of the missing intention is the replaced intention. This phenomenon makes it very difficult for me in composing, typing and editing my work. In Ethics as Social Conscience, I wrote about peanut butter in a few places, but only typed "peanut" not "peanut butter." When I read those places in the manuscript, whether on paper or computer screen, my brain saw "peanut butter." Despite about 10  - count them, 10 - slow readings of every page prior to submission for printing, I did not discover the typos until I happened to review those pages months later. (Note: Known errata will be officially corrected in a printing to be released ca. Sept. 1, 2008.)  I knew what I had intended in the text, and that is just what my brain read. Thus, a missing intention was created based on assumptions about the world as experienced.

Intentions are a slippery subject, especially for old folks. Most writers in Philosophy are considerably younger than me, so it seems to them intentions are wonderfully obvious. By the time they get old enough to discover contrary facts, they have usually ceased writing or they have come to firm and unalterable convictions. As humans are, defense of belief only reinforces conviction, so we rarely see recanting of positions taken except under duress. (I fervently hope that is not true of me, as I believe I put forward my views tentatively in the spirit of scientific work. I think I should revise my views, if they are contrary to the facts or just plain wrong.) Intentionality has a long history in the philosophical literature, but actually has little justification in biology or physiology except as an epiphenomenon of neural functioning. Maybe Aristotle was right about not trusting philosophers under 35.

My ad hominem argument against intentionality is simply that having intentions is a personal matter. When a person thinks those intentions exist in the world beyond one's own brain, he or she is doing what the psychiatrists call "projection." As I understand it, projection is the proper explanation of intentions ascribed to beings other than oneself. The importance of intentions is primarily that they are evidence in favor of the consciousness of the person claiming to have them. Since, however, intentionality presumes that one's intentions are knowable by others, and, further, that they play the same role, work the same way and have the same meaning for everyone that has them, it must be a projection on the part of anyone advocating their existence. From my subjectivist point of view, one might have intentions, but the generalization to intentionality is founded on  assumptions and fraught with uncertainties.

What do intentions have to do with Ethics? Although much has been made of them in moral philosophy, they actually have very little to do with what is right or wrong. In Courts of law, lawyers establish the motives of those being tried in the same way that lawyers present evidence of what happened. Motives are inferred from evidence, as in "He robbed the bank because he needed money to pay his drug dealer." In our formal dealings with each other, people present tokens of their intentions (e.g., money deposited in escrow, wedding rings, etc.) and do not ask to be taken on faith from the start. We usually take on faith (trust) only what we have come to expect out of long experience. At bottom, there is always material evidence. That is why "the road to Hell is paved with Good Intentions."

Because we do not know another's intentions, and sometimes do not even know our own intentions, intentions cannot be the basis of accurate ethical judgements. Motives are established empirically and point to intentions, but they are not the same as intentions. Anyway, in establishing public responsibility, we rely on motives supported by evidence, not on intentional claims. In our social relations, what matters is not what we thought we were doing, but what we did and what others believe about our doings and motives. Thus, motives are implied by a chain of evidence (together with a theory of human nature), whereas intentions are just what we think of our motives. Of course, all of that material and behavioral evidence concerning motives is ultimately statistical and conjectural in nature, not anything certain. Therefore, judgements, especially moral judgements, are uncertain, risky propositions.

Based on the foregoing, I believe Ethical theories based on an objectified reality or human nature are inherently flawed and probably wrong. Immanuel Kant might have been right about the only Good Thing being a Good Will, but it just does not matter. What our supposed human nature is depends on who is talking about it  Aristotle and a myriad of theologians have made claims about human nature which many people still believe. The only physical evidence we have about H. sapiens is recent scientific research which says nothing about "human nature" as understood by religionists and many philosophers (such as virtue theorists). What we actually know (in the scientific sense) about human nature is derived from a collection of MRI scans, Rorschach tests and statistical correlations, as well as what facts can be gleaned from History, anthropology and paleontology. Any other conception of human nature and, consequently, intentionality, is just a form of mysticism.

I stand by the conclusory claims of my Ethics as Social Conscience which I believe are fully consistent with these arguments. Ethical values are implicit in social interactions, which means they are are only discernable by studying behavior in social settings. Intelligent creatures learn their values when they learn their cultures. To the extent that intelligent creatures are also self-conscious, moral responsibility can be assigned to their acts (as we do in Court). Otherwise, it matters little or not at all what goes on in anyone's head, unless that person is capable of changing the application of social norms or the norms themselves.

Compulsion

Must we do what is Right? Must we seek the Good?

I think there is no compulsion to do any of those things. What I believe is right or good is just that: something I believe. Ethical values are extremely "squishy," like lemons and oranges. We can extract the juice for drinking and throw away the rind, or we can use the rind for flavoring and the juice for marinating. Like the supposedly solid atoms of yore, ethical values turn out to have internals. Unlike quarks and gluons (to date), we have no reason to suppose those values will not decompose further. Consequently, we can never get to the bottom of ethical values, so there is no end of "reasoning" about them. For lack of definitive reasons, ethical values cannot compel action or impart their nature to an action.

The value of an action is only described and asserted in the moral judgements made about it. Moral judgements short-circuit the endless reasoning implied by bottomless pits of values. In haggling over a sale, eventually the seller or buyer or someone has to say, "Enough! Cut the paper here." In international relations and contract negotiations, "weasel words" must be found which allow the parties to agree on a conclusion, regardless what they separately believe the terms to mean. The object is to promote a certain action, not truth. The pitfall is, of course, that treaties like Versailles stop one war expensively by becoming a cause of the next.

Another argument against moral compulsion is that creatures capable of moral behavior are habitual hypocrites; i.e., they say one thing and do another. If ethical values were compelling, such contrary behavior would be impossible. Meta-theoretical standards applied on scientific knowledge are relevant here: if the theory cannot explain facts in its purview, or events contradict theoretical predictions, the theory is at least inadequate and possibly wrong. The usual way of wiggling out of the opposition of behavior to ethical principles or moral judgements is introducing the deus ex machina, Free Will: moral agents are free to choose between Good and Evil, Right and Wrong. (This is like the Western movie hero, who always shoots the rope just before one of his friends - obviously the wrong man - is hanged.) Of course, that explanation of hypocrisy vitiates the compelling character of ethical values, so there has to be a backing off of compulsion to mere necessity. In other words, proponents of Free Will usually claim that there are either universal or general ethical principles and values, so that ethical propositions are in some sense true, possibly even logically true, but those truths are disconnected from whatever motivates action. Hypocrisy, then, is portrayed as a personal defect, not a flaw in the ethical theories or values by which it is judged; implicitly admitting that values do not compel action.

Another explanation of unethical behavior is that moral agents are simply mistaken about which ethical principle or moral judgement applies in these circumstances. This tack avoids undermining ethical principles and values, as they can still be asserted as universals, and sidesteps the issue of compulsion. The claim would then be that a fully competent moral agent would do the Right Thing or what is Good, but the instant agent is in some way defective. We do not expect chimpanzees to follow humanly instituted moral judgements because they do not have the appropriate mental apparatus. On the other hand, as Franz de Waal recounts in his books, there is a lot of evidence that some chimpanzees knew what they were doing in murdering their rivals. Their behavior can be excused to the extent that they were not playing with a full deck. Chimpanzee behavior also exposes another weakness of this sort of explanation: evil doers often feel good about their acts and enjoy their ill gotten gains. If we excuse putative moral agents on account of their ignorance, we also have to offer an account of the ignorance in evil doers which allows them to enjoy their deeds. Stated the other way around, presumably adequate moral knowledge would make someone feel bad who performed badly and do-gooders would feel good. But I have never observed any such association of deeds and feelings which could not be ascribed to social feedback or to personal satisfaction about fulfilling a desire. Also, it is trivially true that an agent acts on its knowledge, however much or accurate that is. So, the excuse that moral agents are mistaken only raises further questions, such as is there a "moral threshold" and/or grades of moral responsibility?

Yet another explanation is the conflicting application of ethical principles and moral values to situations. In this explanation of hypocrisy, moral agents are assumed to want to do the Right Thing or be Good, but they are unable to decide what to do. This kind of inability is not disability, but inherent in the princples and values themselves. For instance, we are taught not to kill, but we are allowed self-defense as well as the slaughter of non-human animals and plants. We are told not to commit adultery, but the very notion of adultery proposes sexual ownership relations contrary to other ethical principles. What should police do about hostage takers? Because so many situations demand choosing between conflicting principles or admonitions, it seems conflict or competing choices is a more fundamental ethical condition than moral standards.

Why do need to resort to such complexities to explain moral behavior? I think Occam's Razor should be applied. The people I have observed making moral choices have not felt compelled to act according to whatever ethical principles or moral values they say they believe when not making the choice. That is, there is a disconnect between what people believe is ethical and what they do. People use other considerations when making their choices than the formal ethical principles and values they have learned. Thus, in the simplest case, the choice whether to return the money someone drops depends on the circumstances. Almost everyone will pick up the money and return it, if they feel they are being watched. In that case, not returning the money has a social consequence (what others will think) and, possibly, personal difficulties (getting arrested, beaten, etc). But, if the money is just there to be had without complication, most people will just keep it. In fact, stories of people who went to some lengths to do The Right Thing - such as returning lost or stolen property - are occasionally the stuff of the local TV news at 5, 6 and 10 PM. Retail sales strategy depends on  the assumption that 'everyone has a little bit of larceny in them.' If we care to open our eyes, we will see how people really behave, not how we imagine they behave. Perhaps our hyperactive imagination clouds our vision because we imagine ourselves as saintly. Surely, we would never do that!

The old Indian story of the Blind Men and the Elephant applies here. Those proposing explanations of moral behavior are only reacting to their piece of the beast. I think none of them grasps the elephant. Of course, when we have the better explanation, it will be seen how the various observations fit the big picture, and also how the observers distorted their experience. In the meantime, for starters, I think it best to set aside notions of compulsion and necessity in Ethics. What we need to do is look at how people actually behave, not how they are supposed to behave. The reason for this bottom-up orientation is illustrated thus:

I made the mistake of applying for a job at Livermore Labs, a nearby nuclear weapons research facility. I was offered the job and almost took it. I was stopped by two fortuitous events. First, I was taken on a walking tour intended to convince me of the virtues of working for Livermore. While we were walking, a tall, blond, blue-eyed, Aryan-looking physicist explained how Ronald Reagan's Star Wars was not only possible, but feasible. There was no doubt he had been seduced by glory of the project, just as J. Robert Oppenhemier could not resist the sweetness of building The Bomb. I have never forgotten that scientist's far away look as he gazed up into the sky. Second, when I received the security clearance papers a few days later, it became clear that my work was to be in a controlled (military) area, and not in the civilian side as they had assured me. Thereupon, I declined the job offer because I did not wish to work with deluded folks who were less than forthcoming with me. I felt that accepting the deceit about the security clearance would only be the first of a series of deceits leading to derangements such as that suffered by the physicist. I do not do military work.

Similarly, Immanuel Kant lived his whole life in Konigsberg, then a center of Prussian militarism. It should not be surprising that his ethical theory is formulated as Imperatives; i.e., commands from on high. Behaving that way was built into Prussian culture.

In proposing an ethical theory, we have to go beyond ourselves and examine many societies. As we learned in the 1960s, "different strokes for different folks." Some of the first casualties of this approach are notions of Good, Right, etc. Without those overarching justifications, the sense of compulsion soon disappears. If the habits inculcated in us since birth are without merit beyond having been commanded, there is no reason to perform them. The result is what happened for some of us in the 1960s.

The ultimate argument against compulsion of any sort (feelings, logical necessity, loyalty, obedience, etc) in Ethics is that it is irrelevant.

Nihilism

Nihilism is a doctrine or set of beliefs that there are no values: no Truth, no Good, no Beauty. Nihilism was also an attitude and  revolutionary movement in Tsarist Russia. Nihilists are seen as pessimists, social outcasts or even as bomb throwers and terrorists. Nihilists are believed to be misanthropic people who advocate anarchy and scorched earth policies.

Traditionally, Good People are not Nihilists; they believe in things. For them, there is a future and there are values. They are not revolutionaries. Good People believe in the established Gods and State, they go about their lawful businesses as lawfully prescribed, they pay homage as required of them and they expect as much or more recognition as befits their status. Good People fear falling from their perches, so they have a horror of Nihilists and their fellow travelers and shun them.

McCarthyism is a widespread attitude and practice among Good People. Good People do not like non-conformists and boat-rockers of any stripe. Nihilists, atheists, social levelers and do-gooders are threats of varying degrees to the Established Order because they do not consent to the values and practices of Good People. The most dangerous threat to the Established Order is not a weapon, but an idea. Thus, Nihilism and those other ideas are denounced as evil, so their adherents must be wicked. It is enough to be accused of being one of the wicked to deserve punishment. Those holding unusual beliefs such as atheism or cultural relativism are driven out of Good Society, shunned, garroted and thrown into a dumpster. Yet, before the final disposition of the wicked, some of the Good People are attracted to them and invite them into their salons. Wickedness is thrilling and titillating, especially to those suffering ennui.

Despite the danger of being counted among the wicked, I have been an atheist since I was a teenager. Since arriving at the "age of reason," I have felt that American society needs radical restructuring based on what I saw happening around me. While I was taken in by the McCarthyists for a short time when I was 12 or 13, I soon found out about their evil deeds - at least, what I thought were evil deeds. For example, someone was accused of being a Communist, thrown in jail, fired from his job and then blacklisted. His wife divorced him, and he eventually left the area. Of course, he wasn't a Communist, but I think he was an union  activist. So, on account of my demeanor, strange thoughts, and, especially, my love of science, I was shunned by most of my high school classmates. I was too weird to deal with. Because I persisted in my views, I have had a hard time of it most of my life. I do blame those who made my life more difficult, but I also realize I always had a choice: repent, do penance and conform.

I was always a radical, but NEVER a Nihilist. I believe there are values important in, even central to, the living of a human life. It is just that I do not believe those values are derived from theology, religious beliefs or institutional instruction. Nor do I believe that values somehow "pop into" people's heads even when solicited, as when people try to make moral judgements. The position I arrived at in Ethics as Social Conscience is that "values" are something we discover in the social norms which we created, maintained and destroyed in processes I call Normative Networks. Thus, values are always a piece of knowledge and do not have any existence separate from the thinker of them. Values are a variable our minds juggle in directing our behavior. Values do not have to be conscious and, I believe, they are not so most of the time for most people. We apply them automatically as we have learned to do since birth; i.e., values are implicit in the process of acculturation. Values usually show up in consciousness when there is a conflict, when a person asks "whatever shall I do?" They frequently show up in churches, on TV and at work, where those in charge try to create uncertainty so as to indoctrinate their followers with attitudes appropriate to the desired behavior. Thus, priests and salesmen use fear of danger and a bad end to sell their products. On rare occasions, values show up in places like this one, where they are examined. Still, I believe for the most part values are not examined.

Biology, Culture

Values do indeed compel performance, but not directly and almost never by choice. For almost everyone, values permeate the background of daily living like splashes of color and signs: Warning! Stop! Do This! Don't Do That! Go Here! Go There! etc. Why do people take the bus to work? Do they remember all the choices made from the nesting site to the bus stop? If others are like me, most of what we do every day is a blur. It is hard to think back on what was done just an hour or two ago, and even harder to explain how we came to do it.

Many important decisions (as felt by the person making them) about our lives are made during youth or early adulthood; after that, we are usually on auto-pilot. It is probably much easier for young people to tell others why they did something because they are nearer to their first times. The first time of everything is exciting, which is probably why young people spend a lot of time yakking on phones about whatever. And that is why most of the arguments about values happen among young people: most adults have already made up their minds. Adults only look for converts to their established points of view, so feel the heated discussions that go on amongst youngsters are just a feature of growing up. I believe that adult point of view is largely correct, because the vast majority of children not only look like their parents but become their parents.

Although biological determinism seals the fate of most human beings (thus the feeling and doctrine of predestination), some of us escape the treadmill. I believe myself fortunate in being one of those. The liability of being different is being a social outcast. Oddly enough, I recognize that the same biological makeup that makes us social animals also demands conformity; as it had to be for H. sapiens to survive and prosper. Our social natures and behavior evolved for millions of years, but our species did not reach the take-off point of global dominance until about 30-50 millennia ago. With many others, I think the key development that enabled globalization and dominance was language: communication with others. Language is a complex behavior, as it involves signs, symbols, concepts, pictures, artifacts and other tokens of what is going in a person's head. Language is not just words, it is also all the appearances of a body made while attempting to communicate. As propagandists discovered in recent decades, we have to look at a person's "body language" when trying to find out how someone "really" thinks or feels. The reason for that discovery is another side effect of language: it endows an ability to deceive. The culture we learn from an early age is itself embodied in a language, so culture at once describes and controls behavior while leaving open the possibility of misbehavior due to dissonance.

If everything happened in a deterministic fashion, as in a mathematical proof, our misbehavior would not be possible or not matter because we would be predestined. But that is not the way the world is, certainly not the human world. In fact, deceits of all sorts are essential in moving from one place to another. According to then-dominant Flat-Earthers, Columbus was going to sail off the edge if he went far enough West. From that parochial point of view, the new physics was wrong. The Vatican also denounced Galileo because the new physics was a lie: it disagreed with the Aristotle of St. Thomas Aquinas. The Inquisition tortured, maimed and burned people who were deceivers, thus minions of Satan; i.e., people who did not sufficiently tow the mark. The same thing happened to Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals, Communists and others in Nazi Germany, and still more in Stalin's Soviet Union. All of those persecutions demonstrate that error, deceit and lies abound among human beings and seem ineradicable. Were it not for nagging doubts about orthodoxy, we might still be living in caves or trees. Language is the key tool in dealing with doubt, deceit and lies because it also creates them.

I think the invention of language and culture profoundly changed our species and, as we now know, created the possibility of self-directing evolution. We have only begun to examine the tools created in the Great Leap Forward (as Jared Diamond calls it). Just as the invention of the flint scraper eventually led to the invention of knives (scrapers with handles), as is obvious in retrospect, so our new tools will lead us somewhere. We just do not know where that is until we get there.

Posted 11/06/2008 09:46:17 AM                Last update: 11/06/2008

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