Abstract
Professor Atkinson has found, teaching an introductory ethics course, that many students believe the course a waste of time and money, because there can be no such thing as ‘moral truth’. A purely sceptical guide to identifying what they must therefore regard as spurious ‘moral arguments’ and debunking all ‘moral’ claims might be to their taste (and may be what some commentators have made of Socrates’ own pursuit). Atkinson’s course, guided by the hope that moral arguments can be rationally assessed and reasonable conclusions drawn about what life is best lived, apparently strikes some students as futile. He suggests that the chief reason they have for their belief is that there is no immediately acknowledged agreement about what it is best to do in particular circumstances, how we might prioritize our several goals or what sort of life overall is best. One response might be that there is in fact more agreement across the world, and throughout our history, than his students think. There are moral truisms familiar in almost all ages, and virtues commonly acknowledged. Does anyone seriously admire cruel, cowardly, greedy, lascivious, vain, wilfully ignorant fools?
Atkinson prefers to argue that we do not commonly doubt the existence of genuine, objective truths merely because people in general disagree about them: the question is whether those who are qualified to judge irrevocably disagree. What qualities are required for a sound judgement in moral matters? Can we recognize them without begging the question in favour of some particular judgements (so that only those who already agree that – say – infanticide is wrong would acknowledge the authority of those who say it is)? Drawing continually on Plato’s dialogues to make his points, Atkinson argues that we can discover what is needed for sound judgement even if we ourselves aren’t entirely wise, irrespective of the particular judgements that the wise hand down. In identifying these important qualities and ways of thinking Atkinson does, implicitly, validate some particular moral judgements, but he does not enter into any particular moral debate – apart from one passing remark to the effect that the widespread and accepted availability of contraception has led to a ‘catastrophic’ decline in Europe’s birth rate (p. 116). Quite what we should conclude from this (disputable) causal argument is unvoiced, but Europe’s ‘going out of business’ is by implication a Bad Thing (and therefore perhaps intended as an argument against the widespread acceptance of contraception). But such brief outbreaks of particular moral judgement are not typical. Atkinson is mostly content to argue, along with Aristotle, that we must, as human beings, ourselves decide what to do (in general and in particular) and that we had therefore better identify the qualities needed to make our decisions well. We need intellectual skills and habits – including a willingness to believe in the possibility of moral truth, disciplined attention to the facts of the case, to logical consistency, to the perils of Unintended Consequences in a complex world inhabited by other people busily making their own decisions. We need to be aware of the perils of impulse, pulling us in directions that we shall have cause later to regret. We need to be aware of the perils of pride and anger, zealotry and desire. We need to cultivate in ourselves (and in our offspring) capacities for friendship, deferred gratification, resilience and the like. We need to be willing to be refuted. As Aristotle suggested what is ‘true’ in moral matters is what the morally wise person (the phronimos) declares. And even those of us (the majority) who aren’t ourselves thus phronimoi can usually identify good candidates for that office.
In summary, Atkinson shows that any serious enquiry after truth (whether in matters of ‘fact’ or morals) requires that we cultivate moral as well as intellectual virtues, and that therefore at least this much is true (in morals): that the best way of living, whatever it turns out to be, must be compatible with those virtues. This is no small conclusion, even if particular disputes both about moral matters and even about the proper interpretation of Plato’s dialogues, will inevitably continue. Professor Atkinson’s book will be a helpful adjunct to any introductory ethics course.