Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Oxford Studies
in Metaethics
Volume 10
Edited by
RUSS SHAFER-L ANDAU
1
1
Great Clarendon Street, Oxford, OX2 6DP,
United Kingdom
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford.
It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship,
and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of
Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries
© the several contributors 2015
The moral rights of the authorshave been asserted
First Edition published in 2015
Impression: 1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the
prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted
by law, by licence or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics
rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the
above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the
address above
You must not circulate this work in any other form
and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer
Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press
198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Data available
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015936890
ISBN 978–0–19–873869–5 (hbk.)
ISBN 978–0–19–873870–1 (pbk.)
Printed and bound by
CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY
Links to third party websites are provided by Oxford in good faith and
for information only. Oxford disclaims any responsibility for the materials
contained in any third party website referenced in this work.
Contents
List of Contributors vi
Introduction vii
Index 299
List of Contributors
Oxford Studies in Metaethics marks its tenth anniversary with this volume.
The entries in this edition reveal just how broad a field metaethics has
become, and how deep is its roster of talent.
We begin with a chapter by Alison Hills that develops her innovative
view about the kinds of mental states that play a role in moral judgment.
Traditional cognitivist views regard moral judgments as a type of belief.
Hills is sympathetic with cognitivism, but introduces us to a puzzle that
requires refining our conception of the sort of belief that plays a role in
moral judgment. The puzzle emerges once we accept the claim that beliefs
ought to be responsive to evidence, accept also that testimony is a basic kind
of evidence, and yet reject the idea that our moral beliefs are justified if they
are formed solely on the basis of testimony. We can resolve this tension by
invoking a special class of beliefs—those that Hills has termed uliefs. Unlike
other forms of belief that aim at knowledge, uliefs aim at understanding.
Forming a moral belief solely on the basis of testimony cannot give an agent
understanding. Moral judgments, Hills believes, are aimed at expressing
and aiding an agent’s understanding; they are uliefs, rather than beliefs.
Much of her provocative essay is devoted to developing her conception of
uliefs and their role in moral psychology.
Errol Lord’s chapter on acting for the right reasons and moral obligation
was the winner of the inaugural Marc Sanders Prize in Metaethics. The prize
is awarded to the best unpublished paper in the area by a scholar within
fifteen years of having received his or her Ph.D. Lord’s paper is focused on
objectivism about obligation—the thesis that obligations are determined by
all of the normatively relevant facts. Critics of objectivism, whom Lord calls
perspectivalists, hold that only facts within one’s perspective can determine
what we are obligated to do. Lord here argues for the perspectivalist view,
on the grounds that our obligations depend on the normative reasons we
possess. The central argument for this view is anchored in the thought that
our obligations have to be action-guiding in a certain sense—we have to be
able to act for the reasons that obligate us. Lord argues that we have this
ability only if we possess those reasons. Because some normative facts may
be inaccessible to agents, or they may fail for other reasons to possess such
viii Introduction
1
G. Harman, The Nature of Morality (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977), p. 10.
Introduction ix
effort by David Enoch to account for the justification of our moral beliefs
on the assumption of moral realism’s truth. Enoch argues that we are justi-
fied in believing in something if we must presuppose its existence in order
to vindicate the point and value of our deliberations. In other words, delib-
erative indispensability can justify ontological commitment. Enoch argues
that we are able to deliberate only if we take for granted the existence of
normative reasons, construed as a robust realist would do. McPherson and
Plunkett argue that Enoch’s proposal fails because it conflicts with a central
fact about epistemic justification: that the norms of epistemic justification
have the content that they do in part because of some positive connection
between those norms and the truth of the beliefs that these norms govern.
They then argue that the most salient alternatives to Enoch’s attempt to
defend the idea that deliberative indispensability confers epistemic justifica-
tion fail for parallel reasons. If they are correct, then deliberative indispen-
sability does not provide epistemic justification.
We turn next to the ages-old problem of the relationship between ration-
ality and moral authority. In his selection, David Copp asks us to consider
what he calls the Rationality Doctrine—the view that the normativity of
morality depends metaphysically on the existence of a link of an important
kind between morality and rationality. Copp focuses on one view about the
kind of link that is required, which he calls the Basic Linkage Thesis: neces-
sarily, an agent is morally required to φ in circumstances C only if there is
a requirement of rationality that she φ or at least be motivated to φ in cir-
cumstances C. Copp argues that this linkage thesis, which he takes to figure
in the best formulation of the Rationality Doctrine, is mistaken. If this is
correct, then either morality is not normative, or the Rationality Doctrine
is false, and the normativity of morality does not depend on the rationality
of adhering to moral demands. Copp opts for the latter view.
In our next selection, Gunnar Björnsson devotes his attention to a doc-
trine that he calls metaethical absolutism—the view that moral concepts
have non-relative satisfaction conditions that are constant across judges
and their particular beliefs, attitudes, and cultures. The prospect of genuine
moral disagreement seems to presuppose absolutism. Further, absolutism
appears to be supported by the fact that many features of paradigmatically
absolutist non-moral discourse are shared by moral discourse. Björnsson
raises doubts about such arguments, proposing independently motivated
general accounts of attributions of agreement, disagreement, correctness,
and incorrectness. These accounts provide the basis for his efforts to explain
the phenomena above in a way that is friendly to non-absolutist interpreta-
tions of moral discourse.
There is a widespread belief that morality is somehow autonomous.
Hume gave the most influential expression of this idea when claiming
x Introduction
that one cannot deduce an ought from an is. While the literature that has
descended from Hume’s remark has focused very largely on logical charac-
terizations of autonomy theses, Barry Maguire argues that this emphasis is
misplaced. According to Maguire, the important autonomy thesis is rather
a metaphysical one that maintains that ethical facts are not fully grounded
just in non-ethical facts. After explaining and defending this thesis, he also
argues for the converse thesis that all facts partly grounded in ethical facts
are themselves ethical facts. He then argues that this pair of theses can help
with debates about the plausibility of nihilism and the classification of revi-
sionary metaethical theses.
Chris Heathwood’s chapter nicely picks up where Maguire leaves off.
Heathwood focuses on the metaethical non-naturalists’ claim that norma-
tive or evaluative properties cannot be reduced to, or otherwise explained
in terms of, natural properties. This tenet has caused non-naturalists some
trouble—among other things, they have had difficulty explaining what
these irreducibly normative properties are supposed to be, usually offering
a negative characterization in terms of what they are not. Heathwood offers
a partial, positive characterization of irreducible normativity in naturalistic
terms: roughly, to attribute a normative property to something is necessar-
ily to commend or condemn (where such commendation or condemna-
tion can be understood naturalistically) that thing, due to the nature of the
property attributed. After elaborating on and defending this characteriza-
tion, Heathwood proceeds to argue that his hypothesis does some impor-
tant explanatory work: it provides for an account of the “queerness” of
normative properties, one superior to other accounts; it explains why meta-
ethical reductionism is bound to fail, in a way friendly to non-naturalism
(as opposed to non-cognitivism); and it can help deflect arguments against
non-naturalism from the “essential practicality” of normativity.
In the first of a pair of essays devoted to moral supervenience, Knut Olav
Skarsaune takes up the challenge to non-naturalist realism of explaining
both why normative properties supervene on descriptive properties, and
why this pattern is analytic. The explanation proceeds by positing a subtle
polysemy in normative predicates such as “good.” Such predicates express
slightly different senses when they are applied to particulars (e.g., Florence
Nightingale) and to kinds (such as altruism). According to Skarsaune, the
former sense (which he labels goodpar) can be defined in terms of the latter
(goodkin) as follows: x is goodpar = df. there is a kind K such that x is a token
of K, and K is goodkin. Skarsaune believes that if x and y are descriptively
exactly similar, then they are tokens of exactly the same kinds; x is a token
of a goodkin kind if and only if y is. Therefore, by definition, x is goodpar if
and only if y is. Thus the definition of “goodpar” directly entails the truth of
the moral supervenience claim.
Introduction xi
2
S. Blackburn, “Moral Realism,” in John Casey (ed.), Morality and Moral
Reasoning: Five Essays in Ethics (London: Methuen, 1971), 101–24.
3
J. Dreier, “Meta-Ethics and the Problem of Creeping Minimalism,” Philosophical
Perspectives 18 (2004): 23–44.
1
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement
Alison Hills
What is it to make a moral judgement?1 There are two standard views, cog-
nitivist and non-cognitivist, plus hybrid options according to which moral
judgements have cognitivist and non-cognitivist components.2 In this con-
text, cognitivism is typically defined as follows:
Cognitivism: moral judgements are beliefs.
By contrast, there are two standard definitions of non-cognitivism. The first
is negative, characterizing non-cognitivism as simply the denial of cognitivism:
Non-cognitivism 1: moral judgements are not beliefs.
1
Questions concerning the nature of moral judgement can relate to the proper inter-
pretation of moral sentences (a semantic thesis) or the nature of the state of mind which
is typically expressed by moral sentences (a psychological thesis). I will be discussing
the latter in this chapter (see Van Roojen (2013) for further discussion), though the
debates are related. Many authors mentioned in this chapter primarily discuss the former
(though their views have implications for the latter question too).
2
See Van Roojen (2013). Non-cognitivists include Blackburn (1998) and Gibbard
(2003). Cognitivists include Brink (1989). Hybrid theorists include Copp (2001) and
Ridge (2006, 2007); for discussion and assessment, see Schroeder (2009).
2 Alison Hills
by evidence, you should suspend judgement or form a new belief that fits
better with your evidence.
One of our most important sources of evidence about the world is tes-
timony: under the right circumstances, testimony that p is good evidence
that p.
For example, suppose you are having a discussion about tax, and some-
one says ‘an increase in sales tax of 1% will raise X millions for the govern-
ment’. You might check her credentials: is she really knowledgeable about
tax? Has she thought about the matter carefully? And if her credentials
are fine, you should trust what she says, because by doing so you can gain
knowledge.
This is an example of what I call ‘pure’ testimony, that is, testimony that
p without any indication of the reasons why p might be true.
Of course, things are not always this straightforward. First, you should
not trust testimony when the speaker is unreliable, trying to deceive, or has
simply made a mistake. Here, testimony is not good evidence, so beliefs
should not be responsive to it.
Secondly, testimony is only one piece of evidence.
Suppose that a speaker says that p. But you have lots of evidence that
not-p. Her evidence is outweighed.
Suppose she says that p, but you have lots of other, very strong evidence
for p. Her evidence is swamped. Though you do form the belief that p, the
belief is responsive to other, stronger evidence and is responsive only a little,
if at all, to her testimony.
But even in these cases, your beliefs are responsive to pure testimony
insofar as you treat it as evidence in its own right that is assessed along with
the other evidence that you have regarding p, and which plays a role in
determining whether or not you believe that p.
In short: beliefs should be (and are) characteristically responsive to testi-
mony that p, provided that it is regarded as good evidence that p.
The problem for cognitivism arises when this claim about belief is com-
bined with a claim about moral judgements, namely that moral judgements
should not be responsive to pure moral testimony.
Suppose that in your tax conversation, someone says: ‘an increase in sales
tax is morally wrong’. Should you check her moral credentials, make sure
that she was knowledgeable about tax, and then trust her moral judgement?
Some people say: yes you should. Doing so will get you moral knowledge.3
3
There are of course religious and moral traditions that do endorse relying on moral
testimony. I have argued at length elsewhere that these traditions are missing something
of moral significance by accepting moral testimony (Hills 2009).
4 Alison Hills
If this is right, moral judgements are just like beliefs, in this regard at least,
and there is no problem for cognitivism.
But other people say no.4 Consider the quote from Coady with which I
began which says that you should not trust pure moral testimony, instead
you should ask for the reasons. Why is an increase in sales tax wrong? You
are looking for an explanation that you yourself can follow and accept or
reject. That is, you are not ignoring this testimony, but you are not putting
your trust in it either. You are assessing the case for the moral conclusion
yourself.5
When we first make moral judgements as children, we are strongly influ-
enced by those around us. But many people regard it as an ideal that, at
a certain point, people make up their own minds about morality with-
out relying on the authority of others. What kind of ideal is this? Moral?
Presumably. Epistemic? That isn’t so clear, and I will return to this question
later. It is striking that moral philosophers who are in deep disagreement
about ethics—including Kant and Bernard Williams—all say that trusting
moral testimony is not the best way of making moral judgements.6 Aristotle
4
See Jones (1999), Driver (2006), Hopkins (2007), Hills (2009), and McGrath
(2011).
5
Is this how we actually do make moral judgements? As far as I am aware, no psychol-
ogist has investigated directly our responses to moral testimony. The very well-known
theories of Greene and Haidt, for instance, do not discuss pure moral testimony directly
(e.g., in Greene (2007), Haidt (2001), and Haidt and Bjorkland (2008)). Kohlberg does
say that some moral judgements may be made ‘autonomously’ suggesting that they are
typically not based on pure testimony (Kohlberg (1973)). However, there is some sug-
gestive evidence in Hussar and Harris (2010). This is a study of children under the age
of 10 who are vegetarians though their families eat meat. When asked why they were
vegetarian, these children tended to cite animal welfare as the reason (rather than the
taste of meat or health considerations) and would condemn themselves for eating meat
as they would other moral transgressions. This suggests that their vegetarianism is based
on a moral judgement that eating meat is morally wrong, and that they have ignored any
moral testimony from their family that meat eating is morally acceptable (it is consist-
ent with the study that they have based their view on moral testimony from non-family
members, but also consistent with it that they have not and chosen to use their own
moral judgement instead). Though this study is not conclusive, it does suggest that some-
times children may choose to make up their own minds about moral questions rather
than trust moral testimony, even from a source like their parents whom they normally
trust. Nevertheless, in this chapter I do not make assumptions about how moral judge-
ments are actually formed, rather I am interested in how many people (including many
moral philosophers) have thought that they should be formed.
6
Williams (1995: 205). Kant’s views about moral testimony are of course closely con-
nected to his views about autonomy, expressed in all his ethical texts, for instance in the
Groundwork at 4.425–7 and especially 4.431. He specifically discusses teaching ethics
in the Metaphysics of Morals and rejects a lecturing model in which the pupil trusts her
teacher in favour of a ‘catechism’ in which the teacher asks the pupil questions in order
to draw out her understanding (6.478–84).
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 5
too suggests that a virtuous person will have good judgement (phronesis)
and should use it to decide what to do.7 I assume (and will later defend
the assumption) that it is at least not epistemically irrational to form moral
judgements in this way.
It is important to be clear about what this means, because of course,
testimony can still be important to these people when they are thinking
about morality. Their judgements should be responsive to testimony about
relevant non-moral matters.8 And these judgements should be responsive
to moral reasons and moral argument. But ceteris paribus, they should not
be responsive to pure moral testimony, that is, to a speaker simply asserting
that X is morally wrong.9
Why shouldn’t moral judgements be responsive to pure moral testimony?
One possibility is that there is no good evidence for any moral judge-
ments. Perhaps there are no moral truths; perhaps there are, but we have
no good access to them. Assessing this claim properly is beyond the scope
of this chapter. But in any case, this cannot explain why moral judgements
should be insensitive to pure moral testimony, but sensitive to other kinds
of evidence (including non-moral facts, moral arguments, thought experi-
ments, and so on).
A second possibility is that though there is some good evidence for our
moral judgements, moral testimony is not among it. Other people’s moral
judgements are unreliable, so we should not place our trust in them.
This argument might be framed in terms of responsibility for our beliefs.
When forming beliefs about very important matters—as moral questions
frequently are—the responsible thing to do is to make up your own mind,
rather than to put your trust in others.
Of course, it would not be responsible to trust unreliable testimony, and
much, perhaps most, moral testimony is unreliable. It is difficult to find
someone whose views you can trust in ethics. There are wide divergences in
opinion and sometimes people’s own interests can be at stake, so that their
judgements may be biased. This is certainly an important factor in explain-
ing why we should not trust moral testimony.
But there is no reason to think that moral testimony is always unreliable.
It is implausible that other people’s moral judgements are, quite generally,
much less reliable than one’s own. And then why not trust moral testimony
that is, and that you take to be, reliable? Surely this would actually be the
7
For instance, NE 1144a6–8, NE 1113a32–3.
8
I discuss this further in Hills (2009).
9
I discuss whether there is ever good reason to treat the opinion of others as evidence
for moral judgements in much more detail in Hills (2010), especially c hapter 10.
6 Alison Hills
10
Note that this is true even for an internalist about knowledge or justification, who
requires the justification for a belief to be accessible to the subject. If you have good
evidence that someone is trustworthy (e.g., she has a good track record), then even an
internalist accepts that you are justified in accepting her pure testimony, and by doing so,
you can gain knowledge.
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 7
might be the best placed to work out what they are. So it might be best to
make moral judgements using only your own judgement.
Simple subjectivism would be a way of reconciling cognitivism with
the two further claims. Unfortunately this very simple form of subjectiv-
ism leads to an extreme kind of moral relativism: moral truths are rela-
tive to each person. This is not very appealing. On the other hand, a more
sophisticated kind of subjectivism that does not lead straight to relativism
cannot explain why you should not trust moral testimony. So it does not
seem that cognitivists can solve their problem satisfactorily by appealing to
subjectivism.
There have been some other attempts to explain why we might be reluc-
tant to trust moral testimony.
(1) The importance of autonomy.
Autonomous judgements are self-given or self-made. If it were important
that moral judgements were self-given, this could explain why you should
use your own judgement rather than trusting moral testimony, because put-
ting your trust in someone else’s judgement is not to make a judgement
yourself.
(2) Motivation.
Moral judgements tend to motivate people to act. They are essentially
practical. It may be that taking a moral judgement from someone else, on
trust, tends not to motivate. Hence, there is reason to make your own moral
judgements instead.
I am not convinced that either of these explanations will ultimately be
successful (McGrath and Hopkins argue convincingly that they will not).11
The second is problematic for cognitivism because it depends on an aspect of
moral judgements that is desire-like rather than belief-like. The first requires
further explanation because it is not clear why some beliefs (but not others)
should be formed ‘autonomously’, that is, without trusting testimony.
In the remainder of the chapter, I turn to a different kind of solution.
I begin with a distinction between two types of belief.
11
With regard to autonomy, it is notoriously unclear what autonomy requires, and
whether it is essential to morality. One possibility is that you can only be bound by
judgements that you make for yourself, and you can only have moral obligations if you
are bound by them. This would imply that at least one class of moral judgements (those
about obligations) need to be self-given. But the argument is not convincing. Why can-
not recognizing an obligation on the basis of someone else’s testimony bind you too?
With regard to motivation, it is certainly not obvious that we could not be motivated by
a ‘second hand’ moral judgement. And if motivation did come with the judgement, there
seems to be no reason not to take it on trust.
8 Alison Hills
It has been acknowledged for some time that the term ‘desire’ can be used in
a broad or a narrow sense. In the broad sense, ‘desire’ means a non-cognitive
‘desire-like’ attitude, sometimes called a pro-attitude. A desire in the narrow
sense is one of those attitudes, but there are others. For instance, here is
Davidson characterizing ‘pro-attitude’ as including:
Desires, wantings, urges, promptings, and a great variety of moral views, aesthetic prin-
ciples, economic prejudices, social conventions, and public and private goals and values.
(Davidson 1980: 4)12
And here is Bernard Williams characterizing a ‘subjective motivational
set’ or S:
I have discussed S primarily in terms of desires, and this term can be used, formally,
for all elements in S. But this terminology may make one forgot that S can contain
such things as dispositions of evaluation, patterns of emotional reaction, personal
loyalties, and various projects, as they may be abstractly called, embodying commit-
ments of the agent.
(Williams 1981: 105)
Desires in the narrow sense are a subset of desires in the broad sense.13
A very similar distinction can be made between a broad and narrow sense of
belief (what I will call broad belief and narrow belief or n-belief ).14
12
Davidson appears to contrast believing with other attitudes: ‘knowing, perceiving,
noticing, remembering’ (Davidson 1980: 3). But since it is natural to think that know-
ing, perceiving, etc. all involve belief, it is natural to assume that the parenthesis distin-
guishes different kinds of belief or knowledge (e.g., from different sources) rather than
different cognitive states that are to be distinguished from belief and knowledge.
13
In response to this variety, many different non-cognitivist views have been set out
and defended. To take just a sample, it has been claimed that a moral judgement that x is
wrong is a combination of attitudes of disapproval of x and disapproval of those who fail
to share this disapproval (Blackburn 1998); a positive attitude in favour of blaming for
the action in question (Schroeder 2008); and a planning state concerning feelings of guilt
and resentment (Gibbard 2003). These theories all concern desires in the broad sense but
not desires in the narrow sense.
14
The recognition of other kinds of cognitive state (e.g., in Velleman 2000: 244–82) has
not much influenced characterizations of cognitivism. There has been some discussion about
the possibility of two kinds of moral belief, a ‘minimal’ moral belief which even expressivists
can take moral statements to express, and a more robust kind of moral belief, which they
cannot (Blackburn 1998; Sinclair 2006; see also Horgan and Timmons 2006). Minimal
belief may ‘aim’ at truth in a minimal sense, or (in the case of Horgan and Timmons) may
not be a descriptive state at all. Nevertheless, all of these discussions assume that the cognitive
mental states in question are beliefs, and so do not address the objection to cognitivism in
which I am interested (in addition they face further issues, as to whether minimal beliefs or
non-descriptive beliefs can capture all the important features of moral judgements).
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 9
15
There is a large literature attempting to explicate the sense, if any, in which beliefs
aim at the truth. See for example Velleman (2000), Wedgwood (2002), and Owens
(2003). Owens suggests that beliefs may aim at knowledge rather than truth, as does
Williamson (2000) and Engel (2004).
16
I aim to be as neutral as possible in characterizing knowledge, belief and evidence
here. For instance, this thesis has no implications for the question of whether knowledge
or belief is a ‘conceptually prior’ notion. I am also neutral on the question of what evi-
dence is (except that I claim that testimony that p can be evidence that p) and I am not
endorsing evidentialism (i.e., I do not assume that your belief is justified iff it fits your
evidence).
10 Alison Hills
17
This account of moral understanding is based (with a few minor revisions and clari-
fications) on that in Hills (2009, 2010) where it is discussed in much more depth.
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 11
even what is needed to know why it is right.18 If you understand why p (and
q is why p), then you judge that p and that q is why p and in the right sort
of circumstances you can successfully:
(i) follow an explanation of why p given by someone else
(ii) explain why p in your own words
(iii) draw the conclusion that p (or that probably p) from the information that q
(iv) draw the conclusion that p′ (or that probably p′) from the information
that q′ (where p′ and q′ are similar to but not identical to p and q)
(v) given the information that p, give the right explanation, q
(vi) given the information that p′, give the right explanation, q′
To understand why p, you have to have the abilities (i)–(vi) to at least
some extent.19
It is clearly possible to have knowledge that p and even knowledge why
p without understanding why p, because you lack the ‘grasp’ distinctive of
understanding. I think that it is also possible to understand why p without
knowing why p (or knowing that p). For there may be defeaters present for
knowledge, that are not defeaters for understanding.
For instance, your judgement that p could depend on your judgement
that q, and you might be lucky in correctly judging that q. For instance,
suppose that you read in an otherwise very inaccurate textbook that Pol Pot
was responsible for the deaths of millions. You correctly judge that he was
evil. You could not know that he was evil (since your judgement was made
on an unreliable basis) but you could understand why he was.20
18
There is a widespread though not universal view that understanding why p is the
same as knowing why p (Kitcher (2002), Woodward (2003: 179), Lipton (2004: 30),
and Grimm (2006) agree, Zagzebski (2001), Kvanvig (2003), and Pritchard (2005) do
not). My view of understanding is not exactly the same as any of these (see Hills (2009,
2010) for more discussion).
19
A few more brief remarks about explanation. First, explanations can be more or less
full. To understand why m, you do not need to have the fullest possible explanation, an
explanation ‘all the way down’. How many of the morally relevant features you need to
be sensitive to, how full an explanation you need to be able to give may depend on your
circumstances. Explanations of moral truths that involve moral claims (e.g., it is wrong to
raise sales tax because doing so unfairly burdens the worse off) are perfectly legitimate. It is
possible that ultimately all moral claims may be explicable in non-moral terms (because they
ultimately are grounded on natural features of the situation) but I do not suppose that in
order to understand why m you must be able to give an explanation of it in non-moral terms.
20
In addition, if you judged that p on the basis of q in the face of widespread disa-
greement, you might understand why p without knowing that p. For instance, suppose
that many people whose judgement you had previously thought perfectly good, said
that not-p, this testimony would be a defeater for knowledge—it would defeat whatever
grounds you had for knowing that p. So even if you continue to believe that p, you could
not know that p (or know why p). But provided that your judgement that p (because q)
was true, you could have understanding, even if that judgement was made in the face of
misleading evidence. I discuss this sort of case at great length in Hills (2010).
12 Alison Hills
Understanding why p and knowledge why p are thus two separate states.
One way of conceiving of the difference uses a Platonic metaphor. Knowledge
requires a true judgement, and the judgement has to be ‘tied down’. It is contro-
versial exactly what this tie is. Perhaps the true judgement must ‘track the truth’
or be ‘safe’ or not be ‘lucky’. Understanding why p also requires a true judge-
ment, and also requires that the judgement be tied down. This ‘tie’ consists in
your having a set of abilities to make judgements and give explanations in this
and in similar cases. Exercising understanding requires an even firmer tie: that
you have made your judgement by exercising your abilities. Notice that the
kind of anchor required for understanding is quite different from that needed
for knowledge. You can have either kind of ‘tie’ without the other: knowledge
without understanding or understanding without knowledge.
How can you acquire moral understanding? You need to develop the key
abilities, to explain why actions are right and to make judgements about
what is right based on the right reasons. Trusting when you are told that this
or that action is right will usually not give you the grasp of the reasons why
that is essential to understanding.
Why acquire moral understanding in the first place? Because it is important
to use the abilities characteristic of moral understanding to decide what to do.
To see why, we need to think about moral virtue. Moral virtue is widely
agreed to be a kind of responsiveness to moral reasons, usually explained as
responsiveness through action and through feelings, emotions, and desires.
But it is also possible to respond appropriately or inappropriately to moral
reasons through your cognitive attitudes.
What is appropriate responsiveness to moral reasons? I suggest it is: form-
ing a moral judgement (e.g., this action is morally good) through your sen-
sitivity to the reasons why it is true (e.g., because this action helps people
who are in great need). In other words, it is a matter of making moral judge-
ments by exercising your moral understanding.21
To have virtue, you need to decide what to do by exercising your moral
understanding (i.e., by using some of the abilities essential to moral under-
standing).22 In Aristotelian terms, you need phronesis. This has serious
implications for moral testimony.
21
It is sometimes said that a virtuous person may ‘just see’ what it is right to do. And
when you ‘just see’ that an action is right, you do not deliberate about whether it is right
beforehand (and you may not even be aware exactly why it is right: McDowell (1979: 332)).
But even if that is right, it just shows that you do not need to exercise all of the abilities essen-
tial to moral understanding any time that you decide what to do. You still need to make your
judgement for the right reasons, i.e., to have and to use abilities (iii) and (iv), and you might
well need the others as well, to explain and to justify your action to others, or to give advice.
22
This is why moral uliefs are said to aim at ‘exercised’ moral understanding, rather
than merely that they aim at moral understanding. As I mentioned earlier, moral
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 13
Suppose that you have a friend who is very seriously ill and she asks you
to help her kill herself. You are not sure what to do. You ask your parish
priest, for whom you rightly have the highest regard. If you put your trust
in what he says, you will know what to do.
Suppose that you do. Now both you and he have moral knowledge. But
only he has responded directly to moral reasons: if he has given you pure
moral testimony, you are not aware of those reasons at all. You have just
done what he told you to do. This is not an ideal of moral virtue. You may
be well motivated and well meaning but you fall short of full moral virtue,
even if you do the right thing knowing that it is right.
Similarly, for your action to be fully morally worthy, you must do the
right thing for the right reasons, that is, for the reasons that make that
action right. Suppose that you trust your priest when he says that it is
acceptable for you to help your friend and act on that basis. Your action is
based on his pure moral testimony. It is not based on the reasons that make
it right—it could not be—because you have no idea what they are and you
are not responsive to them in any way. Again, you may be well motivated
and do the right action, but that is not enough for your action to be fully
morally worthy.23
Exercising your moral understanding to make moral judgements is an
ideal. Other things being equal, you should try to live up to this ideal. But
other things are not always equal. First, trusting testimony has a crucial
role in moral education. To acquire moral understanding, you need to start
with some (preferably true) moral claims, and you may have to take these
on trust.
Secondly, there may be some reason why you cannot gain or cannot use
your moral understanding. Perhaps you lack certain kinds of experience and
these are essential to good judgement. Perhaps you are just not very good at
weighing up values. Hopefully you will be able to get good advice that will
help you to reach a good judgement by explaining why some action is right
and others wrong. But perhaps you are not in a position to get or to appreciate
advice. It may be better for you to trust moral testimony instead. Again: this
understanding consists in making a judgement (that p because q (or that q is why p))
and in having certain abilities. You might have these abilities, but nevertheless make
your moral judgements on other grounds: testimony for example. But in order to be
virtuous, it is important not just to have these abilities, but to use (some of ) them
to make your moral judgements. And if you exercise moral understanding in making
your moral judgements—or even if you try to—you are forming moral uliefs, not
beliefs.
23
What if it was not a case of pure moral testimony and the priest explained his rea-
sons? This is a more complicated example that I do not have space to consider here, but
see Hills (2009) for further discussion.
14 Alison Hills
is a sign that you are not fully morally virtuous.24 Ideally, you would make up
your own mind on the basis of reasons that you yourself appreciate.
1.5 MORAL ULIEFS
Suppose that an increase in sales tax has been proposed and you are won-
dering whether this policy is just. You recognize that raising this tax will
force the worse off to pay a higher rate of tax than those who are better off.
You judge that it is unjust on this basis. To put it schematically, you are
wondering whether p, whilst you recognize that q. Exercising your moral
understanding, you judge that p and that q is why p.
Let us focus on your judgement that p, that a rise in sales tax is unjust.
What kind of mental state have you now formed?
The state is plainly a propositional attitude. It can play a role in action.
For instance, you might oppose the policy of an increase in sales tax, because
you judge it to be unjust. And you might use the judgement in further
reasoning (for example, since further tax income is needed, but a sales tax
increase is unjust, a different way of raising tax must be found). The state is
responsive to certain kinds of evidence regarding p, for example, arguments,
counterexamples, thought-experiments and so on.
At this point, we can describe your judgement as a cognitive state, a belief
in the broad sense. But is it a belief (narrow sense)? It is characteristic of
narrow beliefs to aim at knowledge. But we have seen that knowledge is not
the only epistemic aim. Instead, you might make moral judgements as the
virtuous person does, by exercising her moral understanding. I call a state
aimed at this goal, a moral ‘ulief ’.
You need not be consciously aware of trying to exercise moral under-
standing to be forming uliefs. Nevertheless uliefs should be formed in
response to evidence, in such a way that in favourable circumstances the
result will be exercised moral understanding.
If you exercise your moral understanding, you respond to certain kinds
of evidence only—evidence regarding the reasons why a rise in sales tax is
unjust. But testimony of the form: ‘a rise in sales tax is unjust’ is not a reason
24
See Jones (1999) for a good example. This is similar to the familiar problem of
when it is right and when it is not for a non-virtuous person to try to act as the virtuous
person does. The best-known examples concern non-virtuous non-cognitive attitudes.
For instance, you might be more prone to anger or jealousy than a virtuous person, and it
would be right for you to avoid certain situations, which the virtuous person has no need
to avoid. Similarly, sometimes it might be right for you not to make moral judgements
in the way a virtuous person does, because doing so would be likely to end in failure.
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 15
why that proposition is true. So if you are forming uliefs, you will typically
not put your trust in testimony of that form, however reliable or expert you
regard the speaker.
In other words, if your moral judgement that a rise in sales tax is unjust is
sensitive to evidence including moral testimony, it is a (narrow) belief. If it
is sensitive to other kinds of evidence, but not moral testimony (or similar),
it is a moral ulief.
There are a host of well-known problems for any view that moral judge-
ments are not beliefs. These include requirements to explain how such
judgements are truth-apt and subject to logical relations and how they can
be a proper focus for disagreement. These are all extremely demanding chal-
lenges for non-cognitivsts to meet. Are they equally difficult for a ‘moral
ulief ’ account of moral judgement?
Not at all. Moral uliefs are a kind of broad belief, therefore they are fac-
tive states that ‘aim at the truth’. Moral uliefs, like narrow beliefs, will typi-
cally be expressed by declarative sentences with descriptive content that can
be assessed as true and false. For instance:
Sales tax increases are unjust.
Sales tax increases are unjust because they disproportionately affect
the worst off.
Since truth is as important for uliefs as beliefs, uliefs can and do play
the same role in reasoning as beliefs. You can derive further uliefs or beliefs
from combinations of your current uliefs and beliefs in familiar ways. For
example, you might think though the following argument:
1. Rises in tax which disproportionately affect the worse off are unjust.
2. A rise in sales tax is a rise in tax which disproportionately affects the
worse off.
Therefore
3. A rise in sales tax is unjust.
A piece of mental reasoning like this may be constituted by narrow
beliefs—that is, you may n-believe the propositions expressed by (1) and
(2) and draw the appropriate conclusion, forming a narrow belief that a
rise in sales tax is unjust. But here is another possibility. You may n-believe
that this is a tax rise that disproportionately affects the worse off, but have a
moral ulief that rises in tax which disproportionately affect the worse off are
unjust (e.g., because you grasp that a just system of taxes is sensitive to need
and the ability to pay). And you may as a consequence draw the appropriate
conclusion, forming a moral ulief (that this rise in tax is unjust) rather than
an n-belief. Moral uliefs can play a role in reasoning and in valid arguments
16 Alison Hills
because the ‘logic’ of moral uliefs is sufficiently similar to the ‘logic’ of nar-
row beliefs. And finally, if you form the moral ulief that killing the innocent
is always wrong, whilst I form the moral ulief that it is not, it is perfectly
clear that we disagree with each other. Our judgements cannot both be
true, and anyone who ‘ulieved’ both propositions would have inconsistent
uliefs. Just as there is something prima facie wrong with having inconsistent
n-beliefs, there is something prima facie wrong with having inconsistent
uliefs (or indeed in having an inconsistent set of uliefs and n-beliefs).
The role of belief, particularly moral beliefs, in action is of course a matter
of dispute. On some views, beliefs cause action only in combination with a
desire. According to other theories, beliefs can sometimes cause action on
their own, without the need of an additional desire. I will not take a stand
on this controversy. I assume that whatever role moral n-beliefs play in caus-
ing action can also be played by moral uliefs.
I have introduced the idea of moral uliefs by describing moral under-
standing, its use in virtue and morally worthy action. In the next section,
I want to consider some objections that might be raised to this account of
moral uliefs as belief-like mental states.
1.6 OBJECTIONS
cognitive state: they can play the same role in argument as n-beliefs and can
be used in the same mental inferences (aside from any specifically relating
to testimony or deference to experts or similar). They do not have exactly
the same functional role with respect to action as narrow beliefs, because
they play a crucial role in fully morally worthy action and in full moral vir-
tue. But nevertheless, their causal contribution to action is in other respects
similar.
Finally, moral uliefs have the phenomenology of a cognitive state. A moral
ulief is formed on the basis of your grasp (or your attempted grasp at least)
of the reasons why it is true. You cannot just choose to judge whether a rise
in sales tax is unjust or not, once you recognize (what seem to you to be) the
reasons why it is unjust. This is no doubt experienced as a ‘coming down’
in classifying the rise in sales tax (‘the object’) as falling into a particular
category (unjust policies). It is naturally expressed in an assertion (‘A rise in
sales tax is unjust’) by a declarative sentence.
I leave it open whether there are cognitive states other than narrow beliefs
and uliefs, though I think it likely that there are.25 But in any case, there is
no doubt about it: uliefs are a type of cognitive state.
25
Perhaps an ‘alief ’ as described in Gendler (2008) might be a cognitive state (though
it also has non-cognitive and affective aspects too), and more familiarly, suppositions and
hypotheses might qualify as well (see Velleman (2000)).
18 Alison Hills
With regard to the second objection, it is true that the criteria for indi-
viduating types of mental state are not clear. Nevertheless, I have argued that
there are some good reasons for distinguishing between different ‘belief-like’
cognitive states, whether these are considered as different types of mental
state or different sub-kinds of broad belief. Some of these reasons are theo-
retical. I have argued that knowledge and (exercised) moral understanding
are different states, and that you can have one without the other. Narrow
belief ‘aims’ at knowledge, hence it is responsive to all evidence. Moral ulief
‘aims’ at exercised moral understanding, hence is responsive only to certain
kinds of evidence.
Secondly, there are practical reasons for distinguishing n-beliefs and
uliefs. Moral virtue is typically a matter of forming and acting on moral
uliefs, rather than n-beliefs.26
These are good reasons for concluding that n-beliefs and uliefs are two
different mental states. Nevertheless, there are costs to doing so. The major
difficulty consists in explaining the relationship between the two: when you
have a ulief that p do you (Sometimes? Always? Never?) have a narrow belief
that p as well? Can you have a ulief that p and a belief that not-p at the same
time? What are the inferential relations between the two? A full account of
this relationship is beyond the scope of this chapter, but in the following
section, I will make a start, hoping to say enough to vindicate drawing the
distinction between uliefs and n-beliefs.
26
Both arguments are made at greater length in Hills (2009, 2010).
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 19
I suspect that typically it is replaced, that is, you suspend your n-belief
and replace it with a ulief that p. To form a ulief at all, you need to base it
on the exercise of your moral understanding, and I think that that is dif-
ficult to do (though perhaps not impossible) when you still have an n-belief
that p. For you already have the answer to your question: is p true? Instead
you need to regard the question as reopened, by suspending judgement on
whether p.
Of course at this stage you might ulieve that p on the basis of your moral
understanding and n-believe that p too. But there are a couple of reasons
why the n-belief might remain suspended. Once you have formed a ulief,
you have reached a settled opinion that p, you have no need of an n-belief
that p as well. And secondly, it makes sense for us to replace n-beliefs with
uliefs rather than to supplement them, for if the argument sketched here is
right, it is morally important that it is the ulief and not the narrow belief
that plays a role in further action, and if there is no n-belief, there is no
chance that it will play the role instead.
This is not to say that it is impossible to have both an n-belief and a ulief
that p at the same time. Indeed, I also think it possible to n-believe that p
and ulieve that not-p at the same time. Perhaps your moral views are not
completely consistent, maybe you are in the process of a moral ‘conversion’.
Consider the following example.
He “tells” them that the right thing to do here is to shock the victim. He does this
not by arguing explicitly that it is morally correct to continue shocking but simply
by ordering them in the most matter-of-fact way to continue. In so doing, he shows
them that he (a seemingly reasonable, smart, competent fellow) takes it to be mor-
ally appropriate to do so.
(Sabini and Silver 2005: 550–1)27
According to Sabini and Silver, the subjects n-believe that it is appropri-
ate (perhaps even required) to continue to shock their victim. This narrow
belief is based on their taking the experimenter to think so too, on the basis
of his behaviour, and on their taking him to be an expert on the appropriate
way to behave in his laboratory. Of course they have no idea why the experi-
ment might be acceptable. And moreover they do not wholeheartedly judge
that it is right, even during the course of the experiment. They hesitate,
protest, feel under stress, and in a few cases refuse to participate further.
One possibility is that there is a conflict between their cognitive states
(their belief that the experiment is acceptable) and their non-cognitive atti-
tudes (their desire not to harm). Another possibility, however, is that there
is a conflict in their cognitive states. They n-believe that the experiment is
morally acceptable, but they also ulieve that it is not. This ulief is based on
their hearing the screams and cries from the subject in the next room: they
appear to be causing considerable suffering and possibly injury, for no obvi-
ous gain. They naturally form the ulief that continuing to participate is
morally wrong. This cognitive conflict causes their confused response: they
carry on with the experiment thanks to their n-belief but their ulief causes
them to hesitate; in a few people, the ulief wins out and they refuse to go on.
Prior to the experiment, almost everyone claims that they would not
participate. Why do they say this? Obviously, they think that in the course
of the experiment, they would form a ulief that participating is wrong, and
that they would and should act on that ulief. But, as Sabini and Silver put
it, in the setting of the experiment, most participants lose their ‘moral rud-
ders’ or their ‘moral compass’, that is, they fail to act on the basis of their
own moral understanding. There are a number of interfering factors in the
experiment, some motivational (a desire to obey authority, a wish to avoid
the embarrassment of making a scene) and some cognitive (a belief that the
experiment must be morally acceptable, because the experimenter appears
to think that it is). The two also combine: a strong desire not to disrupt the
experiment and disobey the authority figure makes the n-belief that partici-
pating is morally acceptable much more attractive than it would otherwise
27
Other interpretations are advanced by Harman (2000) and Kamtekar (2004),
amongst others.
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 21
28
Of course there is a complicating factor in the Milgram experiment, namely that
the shocks are not real and so no one at all is suffering. But anyone who was aware of
this would not be an appropriate subject for the experiment. And a virtuous person in
a real-life situation of the type the experiment is trying to model would not agree to
give significant shocks to the victim. Glover (1999) recounts similar real-life examples,
including the My Lai massacre, in which many ordinary US soldiers obeyed an order to
kill unarmed civilians and only a few refused. According to Glover (1999: 333) one of
the whistleblowers on the massacre, Ronald Ridenhour, had been the subject of a repeat
of the Milgram study at Princeton, and refused to give any shocks at all.
29
It does not follow from this that a morally virtuous person never defers to anyone
else’s moral judgement. There may be specific circumstances in which she has good rea-
son to think that her own judgement is impaired and she should trust someone else, but
in these circumstances she is not acting ‘characteristically’. Note also that even if a mor-
ally virtuous person would not defer to someone else in a particular situation, it does not
follow that the rest of us should not either. We should not always try to act as the virtuous
22 Alison Hills
person does—our own shortcomings can make such attempts disastrous. Making moral
judgements as a virtuous person does is always a moral ideal, and we should do so where
possible, but if our judgement is very bad (or the situation very unfavourable) we should
trust testimony, rather than trying to exercise moral understanding.
30
There is a well-known argument that no state can have both the direction of fit of
a belief and that of a desire (Smith 1987: 54f.). I am not convinced that this argument
succeeds, for reasons similar to those given by Setiya, in the course of his argument
that intentions are mental states with both belief-like and desire-like components (Setiya
2007: 48–51). Moreover, this chapter has shown that mental states can be ‘belief-like’ in
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 23
some respects but not in others. Perhaps there could be a mental state that is belief-like in
some respects—sufficiently belief-like to qualify as a cognitive state—but also desire-like
in some respects. But I cannot pursue this interesting possibility any further here.
31
Thanks to audiences at Oxford, BSET, SPAWN Stirling, and the Madison
Metaethics conference where this essay was first presented and especially Rachel Cohon
and Debbie Roberts.
24 Alison Hills
References
Aristotle. 2002. Nicomachean Ethics, trans. S. Broadie and C. Rowe. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Blackburn, S. 1998. Ruling Passions. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Brink, D. O. 1989. Moral Realism and the Foundations of Ethics. New York: Cambridge
University Press.
Coady, C. A. J. 1992. Testimony. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Copp, D. 2001. ‘Realist-Expressivism: A Neglected Option for Moral Realism’,
Social Philosophy and Policy 18: 1–43.
Davidson, D. 1980. ‘Actions, Reasons and Causes’, in his Essays on Actions and
Events. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 3–19.
Driver, J. 2006. ‘Autonomy and the Asymmetry Problem for Moral Expertise’,
Philosophical Studies 128: 619–44.
Engel, P. 2004. ‘Truth and the Aim of Belief ’, in D. Gillies (ed.), Laws and Models
in Science. London: King’s College Publications, 77–97.
Gendler, T. 2008. ‘Alief and Belief ’, Journal of Philosophy 105: 634–63.
Gibbard, A. 2003. Thinking How to Live. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Glover, J. 1999. Humanity: A Moral History of the Twentieth Century. London: Cape.
Greene, J. D. 2007. ‘The Secret Joke of Kant’s Soul’, in W. Sinnott-Armstrong
(ed.), Moral Psychology, vol. 3: The Neuroscience of Morality: Emotion, Disease, and
Development. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 35–79.
Grimm, S. 2006. ‘Is Understanding a Species of Knowledge?’ British Journal for the
Philosophy of Science 57: 515–35.
Haidt, J. 2001. ‘The Emotional Dog and its Rational Tail: A Social Intuitionist
Approach to Moral Judgment’, Psychological Review 108: 814–34.
Haidt, J. and Bjorklund, F. 2008. ‘Social Intuitionists Answer Six Questions about
Moral Psychology’, in W. Sinnott-Armstrong (ed.), Moral Psychology, vol. 2: The
Cognitive Science of Morality: Intuition and Diversity. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press,
181–217.
Harman, G. 2000. ‘Moral Philosophy Meets Social Psychology: Virtue Ethics and
the Fundamental Attribution Error’, in his Explaining Value and Other Essays in
Moral Philosophy. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 165–78.
Hills, A. E. 2009. ‘Moral Testimony and Moral Epistemology’, Ethics 120: 94–127.
Hills, A. E. 2010. The Beloved Self: Morality and the Challenge from Egoism.
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Hopkins, R. 2007. ‘What is Wrong with Moral Testimony?’, Philosophy and
Phenomenological Research 74: 611–34.
Horgan, T. and Timmons, M. 2006. ‘Cognitivist Expressivism’, in Horgan and
Timmons (eds.), Metaethics after Moore. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 255–98.
Hussar, K. M. and Harris, P. L. 2010. ‘Children Who Choose Not to Eat
Meat: A Study of Early Moral Decision-Making’, Social Development 19: 627–41.
Jones, K. 1999. ‘Second-Hand Moral Knowledge’, Journal of Philosophy 96: 55–78.
Kamtekar, R. 2004. ‘Situationism and Virtue Ethics on the Content of Our
Character’, Ethics 114: 458–91.
Cognitivism about Moral Judgement 25
2.1 INTRODUCTION
1
See Moore (1912), Thomson (1986), and Graham (2010).
2
I am using ‘obligation’ such that A is obligated to φ just in case A ought to φ. There is
a popular usage amongst moral philosophers where obligations are always things that we
owe to other agents. I am not using the word in this way. I mostly use the word ‘obliga-
tion’ to make the prose more elegant. I also think that my use of obligation is a natural
use in English.
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 27
He’s selling it at a fraction of the price it’s worth. If Jack were to buy
it, he would be able to use it as collateral for a loan that would pay
for his mother’s surgery. Unfortunately, he has no idea that this pawn
shop exists.
Ought Jack go to California or ought he go to Queens? Objectivists hold
that all the normatively relevant facts matter when it comes to Jack’s obliga-
tions. Moreover, it’s plausible that all the normatively relevant facts point
towards going to Queens. He can save his mother that way, and that takes
priority one. Perspectivalists, on the other hand, think that only perspecti-
val facts matter when it comes to Jack’s obligations. Moreover, it’s clear that
the perspecitival facts don’t support going to Queens; they support going
to California. After all, Jack’s beliefs, knowledge, and evidence support the
thought that it is best to go comfort his mother in her last days. Given
his perspective, going to Queens is at best a fool’s errand at the cost of his
mother dying a lonely death.
This chapter is dedicated to arguing for a perspectival view. On this view,
the perspectival facts that determine obligation are possessed normative rea-
sons. Possessed normative reasons are the normative reasons that are within
one’s epistemic ken. In sections 2.2 and 2.3 I will provide an argument for
this view. The key thought behind the argument is that the facts that obli-
gate must be potentially action-guiding in a certain sense—the facts that
obligate must at least potentially be the reasons for which we act. This is
because when we are obligated to perform some act φ, we must at least have
the ability to φ for the right reasons. The rub will be that we can have the
ability to act for the right reasons only if we possess those reasons. This is a
huge step forward in a full defense of my view. It also follows that objectiv-
ism is false.
Providing the positive argument for my view is not my only goal. I also
aim at defusing what I take to be the most compelling objection to perspec-
tivalism. This objection—which goes back to at least Moore (1912) and
Ross (2002) and is prominently developed in Thomson (1986) and Graham
(2010)—holds that only objectivism can explain the fact that in delibera-
tion we aim to do what is supported by all the facts. In short, deliberation
aims at what’s best.3 Data often proffered in support of the thought that
only objectivism can explain this fact is that it seems like onlookers with
more information can have true thoughts about what one ought to do that
come apart from what one ought to do given one’s perspective.
I think my view is compatible with the claim that deliberation aims at
what’s best. The key thought is that deliberation can aim at what’s best even
3
By ‘what’s best’ I just mean the thing to do given all the facts.
28 Errol Lord
though our obligations are constrained by our abilities. This is very plausible
when it comes to our physiological abilities. Deliberation can aim at what’s
best even if we are never obligated to do what we are physiologically unable
to do. I will argue in section 2.4 that we should think of my view in a
similar way. My view just enforces a different ability condition. This doesn’t
threaten the claim that the aim of deliberation is to do what’s best. Thus,
considering the nature of ability constraints more broadly shows that the
perspectival view I defend survives the objection.
There are two important preliminaries. First, we need to get clearer about
the type of obligation that is at issue. We are interested in what I’ll call
deliberative obligations. These obligations are so-called because of their con-
nection to the central deliberative question—viz. what ought I do? For each
time the central deliberative question applies—every time there is some-
thing to be done—there is a correct answer about what is to be done. Of
course, this is not to say that there will always be a single act that is the act
to be done. Oftentimes many actions are permissible.
The correct answer to the central deliberative question will be the act
that you are deliberatively obligated to perform. The question central to this
chapter is what determines one’s deliberative obligations.
This leads to the second preliminary. It will be helpful to adopt an ideol-
ogy in order to explore the topic in more concrete terms. I will adopt the
ideology of normative reasons. Normative reasons are facts that recommend
certain reactions. We can frame the debate by appealing to normative rea-
sons. On this framing, objectivists hold that deliberative obligations are a
function of all of the normative reasons. Whatever is best supported by all
of the reasons is what one deliberatively ought to do. Perspectivalists hold
that only the reasons within one’s perspective can determine what you’re
deliberatively obligated to do. Whatever is best supported by the reasons
within your perspective is what you ought to do.
On my perspectival view, your perspective is made up of the normative
reasons you possess. The normative reasons you possess are the normative
reasons that are in your epistemic ken. So for example, while it is true that
there is a reason for me go to the store if we’re out of milk, I don’t possess
that reason to go to the store unless I’m aware of the fact that we’re out of
milk. If the last of the milk is currently being consumed while I’m at the
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 29
office, then even though there is a reason for me to go to the store, I do not
possess that reason to go to the store.
It is, as one might expect, controversial what constitutes one’s epistemic
ken and thus it is controversial which epistemic relation is constitutive of
the possession relation. I will be mostly neutral on this here. As we’ll see, my
argument in section 2.3.2 requires that the epistemic relation be a positive
one. That is to say, in order to possess a reason, one’s belief must have some
epistemic pedigree. Examples of the kind of pedigree required are knowl-
edge and justification. Most views of possession embrace this requirement
(and for good reason).4 For simplicity I will assume that the possession
relation is knowledge.5 This is because all of the going views in the literature
hold that knowing some reason r is sufficient for possessing r.
2.2.1 A Dialectical Primer
The dispute between objectivists and perspectivalists has been dominated
by two types of cases, which I’ll call simple ignorance cases and sophisticated
ignorance cases. In order to appreciate the dispute between the two camps, it
is helpful to think about the cases.
Let’s start with the simple cases. Sick Mother is a simple case. In Sick
Mother, Jack is ignorant of the pawn shop and the Picasso. Given his per-
spective, he ought to go to California. Given all the facts, he ought to go
to Queens.
In all of the simple cases the characters are ignorant of some normatively
relevant facts. Given what the characters know, some act φ-ing is obligatory.
Given all the facts, another act is obligatory. I think it is fair to say that most
people’s initial intuitions about the simple cases support perspectivalism.
However, things are more complicated than they initially seem because the
objectivist has a compelling response.
The response has two parts. The first is that in the simple cases it is always
reasonable to believe that the action that is obligatory in light of one’s per-
spective is also permitted by the balance of all the reasons. This is true in
Sick Mother. It is reasonable for Jack to think that the balance of all the
reasons permits him to go to California. In fact, it’s reasonable for him to
believe that they require him to do so.
4
See Williamson (2000), Neta (2008), Gibbons (2013), Lord (2010), and Sylvan and
Sosa (forthcoming). In Lord (2013: ch. 3) I argue against views of possession that deny
one needs to stand in a positive epistemic relation by appealing to the same kinds of cases
I appeal to in section 2.3.2. See also n. 23.
5
My considered view is that being in a position to know is the relevant relation. See
Lord (2013: ch. 3).
30 Errol Lord
The second part consists in the claim that we should divorce the deontic
from the hypological. That is, we shouldn’t hold that there are any necessary
connections between claims about what ought to be done and claims about
what we’re praiseworthy or blameworthy for doing. In particular, claims
the objectivist, we shouldn’t think that doing wrong is sufficient for being
blameworthy. Importantly for our purposes, there is blameless wrongdoing
when one falsely but reasonably believes that the balance of all the reasons
supports φ-ing and one φ-s. Moreover, we can nicely explain why this is.
The φ-ing is blameless because it was reasonable to believe that φ-ing was
supported by the balance of all the reasons. But φ-ing was wrong because
this belief is false.
This response is dialectically compelling. This is because it is anchored in
the very plausible claim that there can be blameless wrongdoing. Moreover,
given objectivism, the simple cases are paradigm cases of blameless wrong-
doing. At the very least, this response should dampen the strength of one’s
intuitions about the simple cases.
Fortunately for perspectivalists, there are the sophisticated cases. The
standard objectivist response to the simple cases is not available when it
comes to the sophisticated cases. The most famous sophisticated case is
Mine Shaft.6
Mine Shaft
A group of 10 miners are trapped in a mine. They are either trapped in
shaft A or in shaft B. It is not easily knowable which shaft they are in.
Flood waters are approaching the shafts. Billy has the choice to sand-
bag shaft A, sandbag shaft B, or not sandbag either. She knows that if
she sandbags A and the miners are in A, all the miners will survive. She
knows the same is true of B. She also knows that if she sandbags either
shaft and the miners are in the other shaft, they will all die. Finally, she
knows that if she does nothing, then 9 of the 10 will survive.
It is very plausible that Billy ought to do nothing. She ought to guarantee
that 9 miners will survive. It is simply too risky to sandbag either shaft. At
best she will save one life and at worse she will cause ten deaths.
The most important feature of the sophisticated cases is that one is not
in a position to reasonably believe that the balance of reasons supports the
act that is best supported by the facts in one’s perspective. In Mine Shaft,
Billy knows that doing nothing is not the act that will bring about the best
outcome. Nevertheless, it seems like she should do nothing.
6
The case was made famous by Parfit (2011). It originated in Regan (1980). See
Jackson (1991) and Ross (2006) for similar cases.
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 31
This blocks the objectivist response to the simple cases from applying to
the sophisticated cases. This is because it was crucial to that response that
the characters reasonably believe that the balance of all the reasons supports
the act that the facts in their perspective support. The characters in sophis-
ticated cases can’t reasonably believe this. Thus, we can’t explain why they
are blameless in doing the second best option by appealing to a reasonable
but false belief. The best explanation of why they are blameless for doing the
second best option, it seems, is that they ought to.
Before moving on, it is important to say something about a common
reaction to the above dialectic. The first reaction of many is that we can
explain all that needs to be explained by appealing to the distinction
between objective and subjective obligation. Objective obligations are a
function of all the normatively relevant facts. Subjective obligations are in
some way perspectival.
The common thought is that in both the simple and sophisticated cases
there is something we objectively ought to do and something we subjec-
tively ought to do. Our intuitions in favor of perspectivalism are really
tracking subjective obligations and our intuitions in favor of objectivism
are really tracking objective obligations. However, neither type of obligation
takes precedence. They are just associated with different things of interest
to normative theory.7
It is important to stress that the appeal to the objective/subjective distinc-
tion I am interested in right now is deflationary when it comes to what I’ve
called the ought of deliberation. On the view under consideration, there is
no conceptual room for the ought of deliberation. There are just the subjec-
tive obligations and the objective obligations. Those who hold this view
think that the debate between objectivists and perspectivalists is built on
sand. There is just no interesting question to ask about the ought of delib-
eration. Let’s call this view the deflationary view.
The deflationary view has a nice conciliatory tone to it, but I think that
it is hard to maintain. I will mention two difficulties. First, this kind of
conceptual deflationism does not seem plausible upon reflection. To see
this, think of Mine Shaft. Billy knows that doing nothing is the second
best option. If she is conceptually sophisticated enough, then she is in a
position to know that she objectively ought to sandbag one of the shafts.
Moreover, if she is conceptually sophisticated enough, she is in a position
to know that she subjectively ought to do nothing. If the deflationist is
right, these exhaust the deontic facts. But it is implausible that Billy has
deliberated about all that can be deliberated about. Billy can ask a further
7
Cf. Schroeder (2009).
32 Errol Lord
8
Cf. Jackson (1991), Kolodny and MacFarlane (2010), Graham (2010).
9
Perhaps my view is a view like this. In order to find out, we’d have to investigate
the essential properties of subjective obligations. I am not interested in doing this here.
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 33
10
Note that I do not take these features to immediately support the argument below.
34 Errol Lord
digs her car out. The reason for which she digs her car out is that she needs
to get to work. That seems like a good reason to dig her car out.
I think we can tease out of this case some general truths about acting
for the right reasons. The first thing to say is that it is very plausible that
we can provide a certain kind of explanation of why Jenny digs her car out
by appealing to the right reasons. Jenny digs her car out because she has
to get to work. This explanation isn’t merely causal. It is also normative
in a particular way. It explains why the action Jenny performs is justified.
Jenny is justified because she needs to get to work. Let’s call explanations of
this kind justificatory explanations. It’s plausible, then, that the Explanatory
Condition is true:
Explanatory Condition: If A φs for a normative reason r, r provides
a justificatory explanation of why A φs.
What is it that makes it the case that we can provide a justificatory explana-
tion of why Jenny did what she did? A plausible answer to this question is
that we can provide the justificatory explanation because Jenny is sensitive
to the right reasons. She is sensitive to the support relation between the fact
for which she acts and the act she performs. It’s plausible to suppose that
she wouldn’t dig her car out if that fact didn’t provide her with normative
reason to dig her car out.11 She in some way tracks the relevant normative
considerations.12 This seems like a very important part of acting for the
right reasons.13 This supports the Sensitivity Condition:
Sensitivity Condition: If A φs for a normative reason r, A’s φ-ing is
sensitive to the fact that r is a normative reason to φ.
With these conditions in hand, back to the objectivist. The rub for the
objectivist is that I think that in order to meet the Right Reasons Ability
Condition for some reason r, one must possess r. In order to possess r, r has
11
This is not intended to be an analysis of sensitivity. I don’t think any counterfactual
analysis is adequate. I think that we analyze this sensitivity in dispositional terms (and
I don’t analyze dispositions counterfactually). The sensitivity involved is the disposition
not to perform the action if the reasons were defeated. See Lord (2013: ch. 4) and Lord
and Sylvan (n.d.) for more.
12
I should note that I don’t think this means that one generally needs to be a good per-
son to act for the right reasons. The relevant abilities might be very local and quite fragile
and thus it might be easy for them to not manifest in similar situations. This position is
possible given my rejection of a counterfactual analysis of abilities.
13
If you’re not convinced of this yet, keep reading. This will be supported further by
the discussion of creditworthiness below (see also Lord and Sylvan (n.d.)). I admit now
that there might be a thinner notion of ‘acting for the right reasons’ that doesn’t require
this type of sensitivity. But I maintain that the notion moral philosophers have been
interested in (the notion tied to credit) requires sensitivity.
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 35
14
I’ll assume Brandon knows all of the relevant facts.
36 Errol Lord
15
For similar remarks, see Arpaly (2003: ch. 3) and Markovits (2010).
16
It is not an accident that these thoughts mirror familiar thoughts about how knowl-
edge is non-accidental in a certain sense. See also Arpaly (2003: ch. 3).
17
This is not meant as an analysis of acting for the right reasons.
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 37
cannot move you in a non-accidental way. In these cases you will have to get
lucky in order to do what you ought.
The second argument builds on the first. It turns on a principle tying
credit to acting for the right reasons.18 It is plausible that token actions are
creditworthy just in case they are performed for the right reasons. We can
see this by reflection again on Good Husband and Bad Husband.
Brandon only acts for the right reasons in Good Husband. Given Sensitive
No Accident, it follows that only in Good Husband does Brandon do what
he ought in a non-accidental way. It is because of this that it is plausible
to think that Brandon’s token act is creditworthy only in Good Husband.
After all, in Bad Husband it is an accident that Brandon performs the action
that he is obligated to perform. It is just a coincidence that what Brandon
is motivated to do happens to align with what he is obligated to do. This is
not so in Good Husband. Brandon performs the action he does precisely
because there are decisive reasons to. This kind of non-accidentality seems
required for creditworthiness.
This supports Credit:
Credit: A’s φ-ing is creditworthy just in case A φs for reasons that
make φ-ing permissible.
In cases where one is obligated to φ, it follows from Credit that a token
φ-ing is creditworthy just in case it is performed for the reasons that obli-
gate one to φ.
If Credit is true and Right Reasons Ability Condition is false, then there
will be cases where one ought to φ even though one is unable to φ in a
way that would be creditworthy. This is intuitively unsatisfying. It is not
plausible that one can be obligated to φ even though one couldn’t φ in a
normatively kosher way. It is implausible that there are cases where the best
one can do is get completely lucky.
Denying the Right Reasons Ability Condition thus has at least two major
costs. First, one has to deny that one is always able to perform the action
one ought to perform in a non-accidental way. Second, one has to deny
that one is always able to do what one is obligated to do in a way that is
creditworthy.
It is tempting for the objectivist to reply to these arguments by again
appealing to the fact that the deontic comes apart from the hypological.
18
Perhaps the debate where the notion of acting for the right reasons crops up the
most is the debate about moral worth (see, e.g., Arpaly (2003) and Markovits (2010)).
I think that moral worth is too narrow a notion to cover what I mean to cover. Plenty of
actions are creditworthy that are not morally worthy—e.g., actions that are required for
prudential reasons.
38 Errol Lord
2.3.2 In Defense of (2)
I suspect that objectivists are so far unperturbed. This is because they feel
no need to deny the Right Reasons Ability Condition. They can accept it as
long as they hold a liberal view of what it takes to have the ability to act for
the right reasons. In this subsection I will argue that in order to act for the
right reasons, one must possess those reasons.
The easiest way to see why possession is necessary is by considering pairs
of cases. Delusional Andy and Surprised Andy is one such pair.19
Delusional Andy
Andy knows that his wife has always been an extremely loyal person.
He also knows that he has no reason to think that she is cheating on
him. Despite this knowledge, he does believe that she is cheating on
him. He thus files for divorce. In fact, his wife is cheating on him.
Surprised Andy
Andy knows that his wife has always been an extremely loyal per-
son. However, much to his surprise, he learns that she is cheating
on him—her best friend tells him, he finds some love letters, and he
catches his wife with her lover. He thus files for divorce.
19
Cf. Hyman (2006), Hornsby (2008), Gibbons (2013).
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 39
In both cases, Andy reasons from a belief that his wife is cheating on
him to the act of filing for divorce. Indeed, we can suppose that delusional
Andy’s deliberation is phenomenologically indistinguishable from surprised
Andy’s. Moreover, in both cases Andy’s belief is true. Finally, the fact that
his wife is cheating on him is a weighty reason to perform that action.
However, it’s very plausible that only in Surprised Andy does Andy file for
divorce because his wife is cheating on him. That is, it’s very plausible that
only Surprised Andy acts for the right reason.
We have several ways of testing this intuition. First, we have Sensitive
No Accident and Credit. If Credit is true and Andy acts for the right reason
in Delusional Andy, then Andy’s token act of filing for divorce should be
creditworthy. But it intuitively isn’t. Andy is delusional in Delusional Andy!
Despite the fact that he performs the best action, he does not deserve credit
for it. This is because he is just lucky that the act he actually performed
turned out to be the best one.
Second, we have the Sensitivity Condition. If Andy acts for the right
reason in Delusional Andy, then he is sensitive to the support relation
between the fact that his wife is cheating on him and the action he per-
forms. Intuitively Andy is not sensitive to that fact in the right way. He
has no legitimate contact with that fact. He is just lucky that his irrational
belief happens to be true. Because of this, it is hard to see how he is sensi-
tive to that fact in the right way.
Third, we have the Explanation Condition. If Andy acts for the right
reason in Delusional Andy, then those reasons explain why he’s justified for
filing for divorce. This doesn’t seem right, either. His token act is not even
justified. Thus, the fact that his wife is cheating on him can’t explain why
he’s justified. Since he isn’t sensitive to that fact, it doesn’t seem like it can
explain his actions.
We should come to the opposite conclusions about Surprised Andy.
His action in that case does seem creditworthy, does seem sensitive
to the relevant facts, and does seem to be explained by the fact that
his wife is cheating on him. The only relevant difference between the
two Andys is that in Surprised Andy the relevant fact is within Andy’s
epistemic ken. Thus, it seems like in order to act for the right reasons,
those reasons have to be within your ken. If this is true, then it is very
plausible that in order to act for the right reasons, you have to possess
those reasons.
This, of course, does not yet show that in order to be able to act for the
right reasons, you have to possess those reasons. I think that this is a plau-
sible step to take. After all, Delusional Andy sure seems to be exercising all
the abilities he has when it comes to the action at hand. He isn’t, as it were,
holding anything back. So if his actions are not done for the right reasons,
40 Errol Lord
I think it is plausible that he lacks the ability to act for the right reasons.20
Moreover, given the fact that Surprised Andy does act for the right rea-
sons, it is plausible to conclude that what Delusional Andy is missing is
possession.
At this point we should consider an important objection to this defense of
(2). The anchor of the objection is the obvious fact that even in Delusional
Andy, the consideration that Andy’s wife is cheating on him plays an impor-
tant role in Andy’s deliberation and subsequent action. There is a sense in
which the reason for which Andy files for divorce is that his wife is cheating
on him. That is the thought that ultimately motivates Delusional Andy to
file for divorce. Why not think that having the ability to do this is sufficient
for meeting the Right Reasons Ability Condition? Isn’t having the ability to
be motivated by the relevant considerations all that is required?
I agree that there is a sense in which the reason for which Andy files for
divorce is that his wife is cheating on him. We can make his actions intelli-
gible by citing that consideration. We can, that is, understand why he acted
the way he did rather than in some other way by appealing to the content
of his belief that his wife is cheating on him. We can do this even though he
is delusional. To give it a name, the consideration that his wife is cheating
on him is his rationale for filing for divorce.
As it happens, most theories of acting for reasons are theories of intel-
ligibility. These theories seek to understand what the two Andys have in
common. Moreover, they all hold that delusional Andy’s belief that his wife
is cheating on him plays an important part in explaining why he acted as
he did.21 So it is not unmotivated to think that there is a sense in which the
reason for which Delusional Andy acts is that his wife is cheating on him.
The question now is whether having as one’s rationale a consideration
that happens to be a normative reason is sufficient for acting for the right
reasons. If it is, then Delusional Andy does act for the right reason and
hence does have the ability to act for the right reason. If this is right, then
the objectivist can deny (2) while retaining (1).
Not surprisingly, I don’t think that having as one’s rationale a considera-
tion that happens to be the right reason is sufficient for acting for the right
20
We can make this more precise once we have a precise view about what his abilities
consist in. My preferred view is that they consist in some dispositions. Given that view,
my point is that it is plausible he lacks the dispositions that constitute the ability to act
for the right reasons because the relevant psychological manifestation conditions are met,
there aren’t any obvious finks or masks, and yet the relevant disposition is not manifested.
21
The role it plays is different in different theories. I’ll be assuming something like
Dancy’s (2000) view, which holds that the content of the belief is the motivating reason.
For pushback on the thought that we can assimilate the two Andys, see Gibbons (2013),
Hornsby (2008), Lord (2013).
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 41
22
I think this result can be parlayed into an argument against certain views of posses-
sion. See Lord (2013: ch. 3).
23
I should stress that I don’t think the story ends here. I go much further in Lord
(2013: ch. 3). In order for the story to continue I have to take sides on the nature of pos-
session, which I do not want to do here.
42 Errol Lord
This argument doesn’t immediately establish the view that the reasons
you possess determine what you’re obligated to do. It just establishes that
possession is necessary for a reason to obligate. It doesn’t establish that pos-
sessing a set of reasons that conclusively support φ-ing is sufficient for those
reasons to obligate you to φ. While it doesn’t establish this, it is telling. The
most natural view to take once you’re on board up to this point is that the
reasons you possess determine your obligations. I will rest content with
establishing the necessary condition and hence showing that objectivism
is false.
24
This is often taken as data, but not always. Some have argued that these types
of hindsight judgments are incorrect. See Bjornsson and Finlay (2010) and especially
Dowell (2013).
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 43
It seems that we can confirm that my perspectival view makes these pre-
dictions. Before finding out where the miners are, the reasons she possesses
conclusively support doing nothing. After she finds out, this is no longer
true. After she finds out, the reasons she possesses decisively support block-
ing shaft A. So if Billy thinks she’s discovered what her obligation was all
along, she is mistaken, according to my view.
2.4.2 A Diagnosis
I grant that these arguments have great appeal. What I want to know right
now is why they have such appeal. For it is quite puzzling, to me at least,
that one’s intuitions about sophisticated ignorance cases can be tossed and
turned so easily. It is very plausible, even upon reflection, to think that Billy
ought to do nothing when she is ignorant. However, it also seems plausible
that if she is relieved of her ignorance, her judgments about what she was
obligated to do while ignorant should match her judgments about what
44 Errol Lord
25
Many who have a strong intuition in the original hindsight case don’t have as strong
an intuition in this case. This is some reason to doubt the veridicality of our intuition
about the original case. Again, I will grant the data for the sake of argument.
46 Errol Lord
Condition. Deliberation can aim at what’s best even though our obligations
are constrained by our physiological abilities. Deliberation can aim at what’s
best even though we aren’t always obligated to bring about the best state of
affairs because sometimes we don’t have the physiological ability to bring
about the best state of affairs.
I think the same is true of the Right Reasons Ability Condition.
Deliberation can aim at what’s best even though our obligations are con-
strained by some of our agential abilities. That is, deliberation can aim at
what’s best even though we aren’t always obligated to bring about the best
state of affairs because sometimes we don’t have the agential abilities needed
to bring about the best state of affairs in a way deserving of credit.
So far we’ve seen that it is intelligible to think that my perspectival view
is compatible with thinking deliberation aims at what’s best, but we haven’t
been told explicitly why we should think this is true. I think that cases like
More Ignorant Mine Shaft provide some strong evidence that we implicitly
recognize the relevant constraints. I see no reason to think that in More
Ignorant Mine Shaft Billy doesn’t seek what’s best in her deliberation. Nor
is there any reason to think that you, her advisor, are eschewing the aim of
having Billy do what’s best. However, you recognize that pursuit of that aim
is constrained by the information within your perspective.
It’s helpful here to compare practical deliberation with epistemic delib-
eration and its aims. Plausibly, epistemic deliberation—deliberation about
what to believe—aims at the truth.26 Given this, you’d expect there to be a
new information argument for the conclusion that one is always delibera-
tively obligated to believe the truth. At the very least, epistemic advisors try
to advise their advisees to believe truths. And in cases where the advisee’s
information suggests ¬p and the advisor’s better information suggests p, the
good advisor should tell the agent they ought to believe p. Does this show
that we’re always deliberatively obligated to believe the truth?
No, this argument is bad. It is incredibly plausible that we are some-
times deliberatively obligated to refrain from believing the truth. There are
two relevant cases. In the first, we are deliberatively obligated to believe
something that is false. Sometimes the evidence available is misleading and
strongly supports believing p even though ¬p. In these cases, it’s plausible
that we are deliberatively obligated to believe p.
Even if you think that we are never deliberatively obligated to believe
a falsehood, it is still overwhelmingly plausible that we are sometimes
not deliberatively obligated to believe the truth. This is because we are
26
Some (e.g., Williamson (2000)) hold that epistemic deliberation aims at knowl-
edge. This won’t matter for my point.
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 47
27
Notice that cases where we ought to withhold are just like sophisticated ignorance
cases. They are cases where we are in a position to know that the option that we ought
to take is second best. Given how plausible it is that this is the right answer in the epis-
temic case, we should be more confident that the sophisticated ignorance cases are indeed
counterexamples to objectivism.
48 Errol Lord
28
It is the canonical view mostly because of the work of Angelika Kratzer. See Kratzer
(2012). Recently there has been much debate about the role these relativizations play in the
semantics. Contextualists like Kratzer think that the relativization plays a role in determin-
ing the content of the propositions expressed, whereas truth-relativists like Kolodny and
MacFarlane (2010) hold that the content is contextually invariant but that the truth-value
is relativized to contexts of assessment in another way. This debate is orthogonal to our
discussion here. I will assume contextualism given that it is the canonical account.
29
There is a second way that context can play a role in the semantics. Namely, by
fixing which standards will be germane for the evaluation of the options. We can just
ignore this here and assume that the standards chosen are the standards that evaluate the
deliberative ‘ought.’
30
Sometimes this relativization to information will be explicitly contained in what’s
said (e.g., ‘Given what Billy knows, she ought to φ’). Most often, though, we just make
bare ‘ought’ claims and context determines the relativization.
Acting for the Right Reasons, Abilities, and Obligation 49
done given X for a very large amount of Xs. This means that Billy can think
about her past obligations in light of her new information—she can think
what she ought to have done previously in light of what she knows now.
Moreover, it means that advisors can think about the obligations of advisees
from the perspective of their information—Billy’s advisor can think of what
Billy ought to do given the advisor’s information. I think these are the con-
tents of Billy’s thought and of the advisor’s thought (and assertion). Surely
those contents are true.
Doesn’t that show that perspectivalism is false? In a word: No. As we’ve
already seen, there are lots of true ‘ought’ claims in this case. It’s true rela-
tive to some bodies of information that Billy ought to do nothing, it’s true
relative to some bodies of information that she ought to block shaft A, and
it’s true relative to other bodies of information that she ought to block A or
block B. Those truths don’t necessarily establish anything about what she
deliberatively ought to do.
‘Fair enough,’ one might respond, ‘but this leaves out the important fact
that Billy and the advisor are having those true thoughts in a deliberative
context and, moreover, the content of Billy and the advisor’s thoughts seems
to be the answer to the central deliberative question. This provides very
strong evidence that Billy and the advisor really are getting at the delibera-
tive ought.’
This is a powerful response. However, I think it can be resisted. Those
who want to resist it have at least two burdens. First, they have to explain
why it is that Billy and the advisor’s thoughts don’t track Billy’s deliberative
obligations in these particular cases. This isn’t enough to be fully satisfying.
For once we have this explanation, we’ll want to know if it overgeneral-
izes. That is, we’ll want to know whether the explanation, if correct, shows
that we never or rarely track deliberative obligations. This would be bad.
It’s a very serious problem with a theory of deliberative obligations if it’s
committed to holding that our ‘ought’ thought and talk very rarely tracks
our deliberative obligations. So this commitment should be resisted. If it
is, then—and this is the second burden—one needs to explain why it is
that in these cases we don’t track our deliberative obligations but in most
cases we do.
I think both burdens can be met. Let’s start with the first: Why is it that
Billy’s and the advisor’s thoughts don’t track Billy’s deliberative obligations?
It is because Billy and her advisor are more concerned with what’s best
rather than what Billy’s deliberative obligations are in a more ignorant state.
This is not surprising given that the aim of deliberation is doing what’s
best. This is what we’re trying to get at in deliberation. Given that, it is no
surprise that the ‘ought’ judgments we are disposed to make will always be
50 Errol Lord
2.5 CONCLUSION
This chapter had two main ambitions. The first was to provide an argument
for perspectivalism. The anchor of that argument was that in order for a
reason to obligate, it has to be possible for that to be the reason for which
we act. I argued that a reason can be potentially action guiding in this way
only if we possess that reason. Thus, perspectivalism is true and objectivism
is false.
The second ambition was to respond to what I take to be the strong-
est argument against perspectivalism. I argued that the motivating thought
behind that argument is compatible with my perspectival view. Moreover,
I provided explanations of the key data that are both compatible with and
friendly to my view. 32
References
Arpaly, N. 2003. Unprincipled Virtue: An Inquiry into Moral Agency. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Bjornsson, G. and Finlay, S. 2010. ‘Metaethical Contextualism Defended,’ Ethics
121: 7–36.
Dancy, J. 2000. Practical Reality. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Dowell, J. 2013. ‘Flexible Contextualism about Deontic Modals: A Puzzle about
Information-Sensitivity,’ Inquiry 56: 149–78.
Gibbons, J. 2013. The Norm of Belief. New York: Oxford University Press.
Graham, P. A. 2010. ‘In Defense of Objectivism about Moral Obligation,’ Ethics
121: 88–115.
Hornsby, J. 2008. ‘A Disjunctive Conception of Acting for Reasons,’ in A. Haddock
and F. Macpherson (eds.), Disjunctivism: Perception, Action, Knowledge.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 244–61.
Hyman, J. 2006. ‘Knowledge and Evidence,’ Mind 115: 891–916.
Jackson, F. 1991. ‘Decision-Theoretic Consequentialism and the Nearest-Dearest
Objection,’ Ethics 101: 461–82.
Kolodny, N. and MacFarlane, J. 2010. ‘Ifs and Oughts,’ Journal of Philosophy
107: 115–43.
Kratzer, A. 2012. Modals and Conditionals: New and Revised Perspectives. Oxford:
Oxford University Press.
Lord, E. 2010. ‘Having Reasons and the Factoring Account,’ Philosophical Studies
149: 283–96.
Lord, E. 2013. ‘The Importance of Being Rational,’ PhD thesis, Princeton University.
Lord, E. and Sylvan, K. n.d. ‘Prime Time (for the Basing Relation),’ manuscript.
Markovits, J. 2010. ‘Acting for the Right Reasons,’ Philosophical Review 119: 201–42.
Moore, G. E. 1912. Ethics. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
32
Thanks to Kurt Sylvan, Andrew Sepielli, Michael Smith, Tom Kelly, Gideon Rosen,
Nat Tabris, Daniel Wodak, Eden Lin, Robert Audi, David Enoch, Derek Baker, Steve
Sverdlik, Liz Harman, Joe Rachiele, Michael Titelbaum, Dustin Locke, and an anony-
mous referee.
52 Errol Lord
Neta, R. 2008. ‘What Evidence Do You Have?’ British Journal for the Philosophy of
Science 59: 89–119.
Parfit, D. 2011. On What Matters. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Regan, D. 1980. Utilitarianism and Cooperation. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Ross, J. 2006. ‘Acceptance and Practical Reason,’ PhD thesis, Rutgers University.
Ross, W. 2002 [1930]. The Right and the Good. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Schroeder, M. 2009. ‘Means-End Coherence, Stringency, and Subjective Reasons,’
Philosophical Studies 143: 223–48.
Sylvan, K. and Sosa, E. Forthcoming. ‘The Place of Reasons in Epistemology,’ in
D. Star (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Reasons and Normativity. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Thomson, J. J. 1986. ‘Imposing Risks,’ in her Rights, Restitution, and Risk: Essays in
Moral Theory. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 173–91.
Williamson, T. 2000. Knowledge and its Limits. Oxford: Oxford University Press
3
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty
Elizabeth Harman
Consider this case:
B believes that φing is morally required, while failing to φ would be
morally wrong. B thinks that failing to φ wouldn’t be deeply morally
wrong; it would only be minorly morally wrong. B is only 90% sure
that φing is morally required. B has 10% confidence that φing is actu-
ally morally wrong, and indeed is deeply morally wrong.
What should B do? It might seem that B should φ; after all, B believes that
φing is morally required. But consider this line of argument:
B ought to refrain from φing. Taking a 10% chance is taking a sub-
stantial chance of doing a deeply morally wrong thing. One should
be very averse to risking doing a deeply wrong thing. It is better to
do what is very likely a minorly wrong thing to do than to risk doing
what is a deeply wrong thing to do. Suppose that B does φ, φing is
in fact morally wrong, and a victim of B’s φing were to later try to
hold B responsible for φing. Could B defend him- or herself by saying
“but I believed that φing was morally required”? No! B knew that B
was risking doing a deeply morally wrong thing, only for the sake of
what B believed was a minor moral requirement. For this reason, B
is blameworthy for φing, and it is appropriate to hold B responsible
for φing.
This way of thinking about cases like B’s is attractive, and there is an inter-
esting philosophical literature that takes this way of thinking to be correct
and then seeks to answer further questions that arise. I will call a proponent
of this line of argument an Uncertaintist, and the view that this line of
thought is correct Uncertaintism. According to Uncertaintism, an agent’s
54 Elizabeth Harman
1
Uncertaintist thinking appears in Ross (2006) and Sepielli (2008, 2013). (Though
these authors do not appeal to considerations of blameworthiness to support their
claims.) Related thinking appears in Lockhart (2000), Guerrero (2007), and Moller
(2011); all three of these authors claim that an agent’s moral credences are relevant to
how she should act. My argument against Uncertaintism can be adapted to target these
three views, as I will explain in notes 5 and 6.
2
Lockhart (2000), Ross (2006), and Sepielli (2008, and n.d.) have offered solutions
or partial solutions to this puzzle.
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 55
3
There is a rich literature on subjective and objective normative statements, and on
subjective claims made by advisors and remote observers. Subjective statements may also
have true readings relative to an agent’s evidence rather than her credences (see section 3.7).
See Dowell (2013), Jackson (1991), Kolodny and MacFarlane (n.d.), MacFarlane (2014),
Smith (n.d.), and others.
56 Elizabeth Harman
4
My discussion here illustrates a terminological choice I have made in this chapter.
I distinguish blameworthiness for behavior, which I construe narrowly, from blameworthi-
ness for causing that behavior. Other authors (including myself in other papers) count
both kinds of blameworthiness as blameworthiness for behavior, sometimes distinguish-
ing them as “original blameworthiness” and “derivative blameworthiness,” respectively.
Nothing hangs on which kind of terminology one uses, but it is important to bear in
mind throughout the chapter that when I say a view implies that a person is blameless for
her behavior, this leaves open that she may be blameworthy for having caused herself to
engage in that behavior (she may be derivatively blameworthy for the behavior).
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 57
The Uncertaintist is committed to the view that those caught in the grip
of false moral views, who do morally wrong things while sure that those
things are morally required, are blameless for their behavior. According to
Uncertaintism, these agents acted as they subjectively should have acted.
Uncertaintism is committed to the view that being caught in the grip of a
false moral view exculpates. That view is false, I claim, and so Uncertaintism
is false.
My Main Argument:
1. Uncertaintism implies that being caught in the grip of a false moral view
is exculpatory.
2. It is not true that being caught in the grip of a false moral view is
exculpatory.
Therefore:
3. Uncertaintism is false.
This argument has a controversial premise: premise 2. I won’t seek to estab-
lish that premise in this chapter, but in section 3.3, I will say some things
to defend it and to make it seem plausible. (In section 3.6, I will discuss
whether premise 1 can be denied.)5
In section 3.2, I will discuss the implications of my main argument by
offering and explaining an alternative to Uncertaintism. In section 3.3,
I will support my main argument by explaining and defending premise
2. In sections 3.4–3.7, I will discuss objections to my arguments. In section
3.4, I also offer another argument against Uncertaintism.
5
My main argument can be adapted to target the views of Lockhart, Guerrero, and
Moller. Lockhart claims that an agent should minimize her chances of acting wrongly.
Guerrero and Moller claim that, at least for cases of killing, an agent should avoid doing
something she believes may well be morally wrong, if she believes her alternative is defi-
nitely morally permissible. As I read these authors, all three of their views imply that
an agent caught in the grip of a false moral view should act as her moral view dictates;
thus, all are committed to the view that being caught in the grip of a false moral view is
exculpatory. (Though these authors do not necessarily embrace this commitment or agree
with me that they are so committed.)
Weatherson (2014) argues against views along the lines of Lockhart’s, Moller’s, and
Guerrero’s by arguing that such views are implausible in cases of prudential uncertainty
and then arguing that moral uncertainty is more analogous to prudential uncertainty
than to non-moral uncertainty; he argues that such views inappropriately fetishize either
prudence or morality, relying on Smith (1994).
58 Elizabeth Harman
6
Actualism implies both that Uncertaintism is false and that the related claims of
Lockhart, Guerrero, and Moller are false. (See note 5.) In section 3.7, I offer a revised
statement of Actualism which explicitly denies two possible revisions to Uncertaintism;
I endorse both the initial and the revised statements of Actualism.
7
“Actualism” is used as a name for various philosophical views, including even a view
in ethics. I’m not using it in any of these already existing ways. I’m using it in a new,
stipulative way.
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 59
morally wrong to shoot. Barbara has a 90% credence that she’s in a sce-
nario in which it is morally required that she shoot (to practice, and to
keep her promise) and she has 10% credence that she’s in a scenario in
which it is morally required to refrain from shooting. (These are the cre-
dences she has regarding the objective moral truth about her situation.)
In this case, it is obvious that Barbara should refrain from shooting, for the
reasons given in the initial line of argument we considered. Barbara should
not take the moral risk of killing someone just to be sure to practice and
keep her promise. But what’s important, according to Actualism, is not that
Barbara believes (as any ordinary person does) that shooting an innocent
cleaning woman in this context would be morally wrong, but simply that
she knows that the cleaning woman might be there. What makes it the
case, according to Actualism, that Barbara should refrain from shooting is
simply that she’d be taking a risk of killing someone, not that she’d be doing
something that she knows is taking a risk of doing something objectively morally
wrong—though that is also true in this case.
Now consider this story which is very much like B’s story:
Bob’s daughter Sue has been asking him to teach her to drive and he
has finally promised to do so. He already taught her twin brother to
drive. Bob has a 90% credence that he is morally required to teach
Sue to drive. But Bob has recently been listening to some conservative
speeches about the morally appropriate place of women in society.
According to the conservative speaker he’s been listening to, women
should not drive and no one should teach a woman to drive; in fact
that is a grave moral wrong. The conservative speaker does not chal-
lenge any non-moral facts Bob already believes; the challenge is sim-
ply to Bob’s normative beliefs. Bob thinks the conservative speaker is
probably wrong; he’s 90% sure of that. But Bob finds the conservative
picture being offered somewhat compelling, so that he is 10% sure it
is the correct picture. (He’s quite sure that a compromise position is
false; so he’s simply torn between the liberal ideals he grew up with
and the more conservative picture he’s learning about.) Bob has a 90%
credence that failing to teach Sue would be wrong, but not very seri-
ously wrong; he has a 10% credence that teaching her to drive would
be deeply morally wrong. (These are the credences he has regarding
the objective moral truth about his situation.)
Uncertaintism holds that, if the conservative picture holds that teaching a
woman to drive is wrong enough, Bob should not teach Sue to drive. He
would be taking a moral risk that he should not take.
But that is false. Bob should teach Sue to drive. Breaking his promise
would be treating her badly, just because she is female, in a way that a father
should not mistreat his daughter. (Let’s not be distracted by the fact that it
60 Elizabeth Harman
(One should almost never beat another person, of course. Nor should one
keep slaves.) Bernard should refrain because he knows what he is doing,
Actualism holds, and because what he is doing is actually wrong.
Uncertaintism may be motivated in part by the thought that Bernard is
blameworthy if he beats his slaves. But Actualism agrees that he is blame-
worthy and that he should not beat his slaves; the disagreement is over what
explains these truths.
Here is another way of filling out B’s case:
Betsy is presented with the option of pressing a red button, without
knowing what the button does. Then an advisor speaks. The advi-
sor says, “I’m 90% sure that pushing the button is morally required,
though it wouldn’t be a grave moral wrong to fail to push it. I’m 10%
sure that pushing the button is gravely morally wrong.” That is all the
advisor says. Betsy knows this advisor well. Betsy in fact has sound moral
views, and knows that the advisor does too.
Betsy should be cautious and refrain from pressing the button, for just the
reasons offered in the initial line of thought we considered. Pushing the but-
ton is too risky. Betsy has reason to believe that the advisor is uncertain what
pushing the button does, but that the advisor has a 10% credence that push-
ing the button does one of a number of things that the advisor and Betsy
both think are gravely wrong—and these things are wrong, because they have
sound moral views—while the advisor likely has 90% credence that pushing
the button does one of a number of things that the advisor and Betsy both
think are morally required, but not seriously morally wrong to do—and those
things really are morally required but not seriously wrong to do. So, Betsy
should have 10% credence that pushing the button is: killing an innocent
person, seriously harming an innocent person, or etc. And she should have
90% credence that pushing the button is: breaking a minor promise, dividing
a benefit unfairly, or etc. When a person’s credences are distributed that way,
her case is very much like Barbara’s case, and she should be morally cautious.
What’s crucial to our understanding of Betsy’s case is that her moral
uncertainty gives rise to non-moral uncertainty. Because she believes the
advisor, she comes to be in a state of non-moral uncertainty that makes it
reasonable to be cautious and refrain from pushing the button.
But consider this variant, involving an agent who holds a true moral view
about helping hurricane victims but a false moral view about gay marriage:
It is the final moments of a U.S. state’s legislative session. Unless a bill is
delivered to the statehouse by midnight, the bill cannot be signed by the
governor. In the statehouse, Ben is presented with the option of pressing
a red button. He knows that the button delivers a piece of legislation to
the governor, but he does not know what the legislation is. He knows that
62 Elizabeth Harman
two pieces of legislation were before the legislature, one providing aid to
towns recently hit by a hurricane and one allowing gay marriage in the
state. The governor has pledged to sign each bill if it is delivered to him
in time. An advisor says, “I’m 90% sure that pushing the button is mor-
ally required, though it wouldn’t be a grave moral wrong to fail to push
it. I’m 10% sure that pushing the button is gravely morally wrong.” That
is all the advisor says. Ben knows that he and the advisor agree about the
morality of both pieces of legislation: they agree that it is good to aid the
hurricane victims; and they agree that it is seriously morally wrong for the
state to allow gay marriage or for anyone to do anything to aid the state
in allowing gay marriage. Ben is an ordinary person with no duties in the
legislation, but due to an odd computer set-up, he alone is able to push
this button in time to get the legislation, whatever it is, to the governor. If
the governor does not get the legislation today, the voting will be re-done
in one month by a newly constituted group elected in a recent election,
who are expected to decide differently on both bills. In fact, both bills are
good bills that should be enacted, though the hurricane bill is not terribly
important because federal aid will also be provided.
In this case, Ben has a 90% credence that pushing the button is morally
required though failing to push would not be seriously wrong, and a 10%
credence that pushing is gravely morally wrong. But he also has credences
regarding the non-moral upshot of each choice: he is 90% confident that
pushing would provide the hurricane relief, and 90% confident that failing to
push would withhold that relief; he is 10% confident that pushing the button
would result in the legalization of gay marriage and 10% confident that failing
to push would prevent that legalization. Uncertaintism holds that Ben should
refrain from pushing the button because it would be taking too big a moral
risk. Actualism holds that Ben should push the button, because it is morally
required to push the button in either scenario he is considering.8
the view that being caught in the grip of a false moral view does not exculpate.
(A person is “caught in the grip of a false moral view” just in case she is certain
the false moral view is correct.)
Some people have argued for this claim:
Moral Ignorance Exculpates: A person who acts wrongly is blameworthy
for so acting only if she believes she is acting wrongly.
The claim that Moral Ignorance Exculpates is clearly false. Even if we
take seriously that a person’s moral beliefs and credences can sometimes
render her blameless for moral wrongdoing, it is implausible that mere
ignorance—that is, failure to believe the relevant moral truth—is sufficient
for blamelessness. Cases such as those that motivate Uncertaintism show
Moral Ignorance Exculpates to be false. The mere fact that someone does not
believe her action is wrong does not rule out that she has some non-trivial
credence that it is wrong, and so her moral beliefs and credences may not
vindicate her action at all. One cannot defend one’s wrongful action later
by saying, “I didn’t know it was wrong, though I had a 30% credence that it
was wrong.” That is not a good defense, if one knew that one’s other option
was morally permissible.9,10
The more difficult question is whether being caught in the grip of a false
moral view renders one blameless for wrongful actions:
False Moral Views Exculpate: If a person behaves in a morally wrong
way, while certain of a false moral view according to which that
behavior is morally required, then she is not blameworthy for her
behavior.11
Actualism implies that Arthur should not push the button. In fact, if Actualism is true,
it seems that Arthur is blameworthy for pushing the button. This might seem bizarre,
though in section 3.3 I offer a view on which false moral belief is typically blameworthy;
that Arthur is blameworthy for pushing the button may seem less strange if he is also
blameworthy for his moral beliefs.
If Arthur does not push the button, then Actualism implies he’s not blameworthy;
whereas he may seem to be blameworthy. But at least the Actualist can say, in that case,
that Arthur is blameworthy for his false beliefs, though not for failing to push.
9
The point that moral ignorance does not exculpate, because one might be igno-
rant while being uncertain as to whether one’s action is morally wrong, is made by
Guerrero (2007).
10
Note that, on my view, this is definitely not a good defense because moral belief and
credence is not exculpatory (except when it warrants non-moral credences that would be
exculpatory). But my point is that even if one thinks that moral belief and credence can be
exculpatory, one should not think that mere ignorance can be exculpatory.
11
In my (2011), I discuss an argument that moral ignorance exculpates; I argue that
the real issue is not whether moral ignorance exculpates but rather whether false moral
belief exculpates, and I argue that it does not. Rosen (2003, 2004), Wolf (1987), and
Zimmerman (1997) offer arguments that moral ignorance or false moral belief exculpates.
64 Elizabeth Harman
12
Rosen (2004) seems to suggest this, though this may not be intended.
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 65
13
My point here does not depend on how the second principle is worded. We might
instead consider the view that a person is blameworthy for acting in a particular way
only if she knew she was acting wrongly. This principle is more concise than the second
principle I state; but my objection to the second principle is not that it is too compli-
cated, or that it adds a needless further condition, but simply that it is unmotivated by
consideration of cases of non-moral ignorance exculpating. (Sliwa (n.d.) holds that moral
knowledge is necessary for praiseworthiness; but I don’t think she would endorse the
strong claim that moral knowledge is necessary for blameworthiness.)
14
See my (2011).
66 Elizabeth Harman
15
Rosen (2004) offers this view of blameworthiness for moral beliefs.
16
I make this point in my (2011).
17
FitzPatrick (2008), in discussing whether false moral belief exculpates, assumes that
ethics is only hard in special cases.
18
My paper “Ethics is Hard. What Follows?” (n.d.) expands on some of the argu-
ments in this section.
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 67
I have argued that false moral views do not exculpate. In my view, peo-
ple who act wrongfully are blameworthy not in virtue of what their moral
beliefs and credences are, but in virtue of what their non-moral beliefs
and credences are, and how these influence their choices. Someone who
knows she is killing an innocent person, and does so anyway, does not
care adequately to avoid killing the innocent.19 A view of blameworthiness
that can undergird the claim that false moral views do not exculpate
is this:
A person is blameworthy for her wrongful behavior just in case it resulted
from her failure to care de re about what is morally important—that is,
from her failure to care adequately about the non-moral features of the
world that in fact matter morally.20
A person cares de dicto about morality if she wants to be moral. A person
cares de re about morality if she wants to keep her promises, to help the needy,
etc., and if keeping one’s promises, helping the needy, etc. are in fact morally
important.
A proponent of the view that false moral views exculpate holds the following:
(*) Someone who behaves morally wrongly while caught in the grip
of a false moral view (according to which what she is doing is morally
required) is not blameworthy for this behavior; she is blameworthy for
causing this behavior only if and only because she is blameworthy for
her false moral view.
I deny claim (*) but I grant that there is something intuitively compelling
about it. I grant that the following claim is true:
(**) Someone who behaves morally wrongly while caught in the grip
of a false moral view is blameworthy for this behavior only if she is
blameworthy for her false moral view.
I grant that there is something odd about holding someone blameworthy
for her morally wrong behavior while acknowledging that she is blameless
for a false moral view according to which that behavior is morally required.
I hold that people who do morally wrong things while caught in the grip of
false moral views are blameworthy for their actions and are also blamewor-
thy for their beliefs. But they are not blameworthy for their actions merely
because they are blameworthy for their beliefs; and they are not blame-
worthy merely for having caused themselves to behave in this way. Rather,
19
Unless this is a case in which it is morally permissible to kill an innocent person.
20
Here I am adopting a view along the lines of Arpaly (2003) and Markovits (2010).
68 Elizabeth Harman
they are blameworthy for both their actions and their beliefs for related
reasons—because both their actions and their beliefs involve their failing to
care adequately about what matters morally:
Believing that one’s wrong action is morally required involves car-
ing inadequately about the features of one’s action that make it mor-
ally wrong, because believing that an action is morally wrong on the
basis of the features that make it wrong is a way of caring about those
features.21
False moral belief is blameworthy. Actions done on the basis of false moral
belief are often blameworthy. On my view, they are blameworthy for similar
reasons.
In this section, I have explained and defended premise 2 of my main
argument, my claim that false moral views do not exculpate. I’ve argued
that consideration of the way that false non-moral views exculpate in no
way supports the claim that false moral views exculpate. I claim that if we
look directly at some cases of wrongdoing due to false moral views, we see
that these are paradigm cases of blameworthy behavior. And I’ve offered
a view of blameworthiness on which false moral views do not exculpate,
which accommodates the thought that if the behavior is blameworthy, then
the false moral belief is blameworthy as well.22,23
So far in this chapter, I have offered my main argument: If Uncertaintism
is true, then false moral views exculpate. But false moral views do not excul-
pate. So, Uncertaintism is false. And I have articulated and explained an
alternative to Uncertaintism: Actualism. In the remaining sections of the
chapter, I defend this argument in the face of some objections. In section
3.4, I discuss the objection that Uncertaintism and Actualism do not really
disagree; and I also offer a further argument against Uncertaintism, based on
an analogy with epistemology. In section 3.5, I discuss an objection that the
analogy with epistemology can be used to support Uncertaintism. In section
3.6, I discuss an objection to the first premise of my main argument, which
holds that if Uncertaintism is true, then false moral views exculpate. In sec-
tion 3.7, I discuss whether either of two revisions of Uncertaintism can resist
my arguments.
21
As I understand it, this part of my view goes beyond anything in Arpaly (2003) and
Markovits (2010).
22
I respond to some objections to this view in my (2011) and in my “Ethics is Hard.
What Follows?”
23
Michael Smith has argued that caring about morality, and acting in a certain way
because it is morally required rather than because of the reasons that make it morally
required, is being a moral fetishist, and is thereby objectionable. (See Smith (1994).) This
is a different thought than the Actualist’s thought that some concern for morality lacks
moral value because it is in fact concern for things that do not matter morally.
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 69
Let’s focus on Bob, who must decide whether to teach his daughter Sue to
drive. I have said that the Uncertaintist and the Actualist disagree about
Bob. The Uncertaintist says:
(1) Bob should not teach Sue to drive
because teaching Sue to drive would be taking a serious moral risk.
The Actualist says:
(2) Bob should teach Sue to drive
because refusing to teach Sue to drive would be limiting her options because
she is a woman.
The dialectic here is complicated. The Uncertaintist will grant that (2) is
true, or has a true reading. To see this, remember the case of Anne, who
poisons her husband thinking she is curing him. The following claim can be
truly made of Anne:
(3) Anne should not give the drink to her husband
because it is poison. We can also truly say:
(4) Anne should give the drink to her husband
because one should do what one believes will save one’s husband’s life.
Claim (3) is true of Anne, ignoring her beliefs and credences about her situa-
tion, we might say; it is made true by what her situation really is. Claim (4) is
true of Anne, given her beliefs and credences about her situation, we might say.
Similarly, the Uncertaintist can claim that there are three ways for claims
about Bob to be true. First:
(2) Bob should teach Sue to drive.
This is true objectively. Ignoring Bob’s beliefs and evidence about his sit-
uation, given what his situation really is, he should teach his daughter
to drive.
But also:
(2) Bob should teach Sue to drive.
This is true for one kind of subjectivity. Ignoring Bob’s moral beliefs and
credences, just focusing on his non-moral beliefs and credences, Bob should
teach Sue to drive. (The same claim is true on two different readings.)
Finally,
(1) Bob should not teach Sue to drive.
70 Elizabeth Harman
According to the Uncertaintist, this claim is true taking into account all of
Bob’s beliefs and credences about his situation (including his moral beliefs and
credences). This claim is true for a second kind of subjectivity.24,25
The Uncertaintist may then claim that the Actualist and the Uncertaintist
do not disagree. Rather, both agree that claim (2) is true. The Uncertaintist
simply raises a third question that the Actualist does not appear to be inter-
ested in: suppose we do not ignore a person’s moral beliefs and credences,
but take into account her whole mental state. What should she do, on the
basis of this whole mental state?
I believe that some Uncertaintists would see the dialectic this way.26 But
they are wrong. Actualism is a proposed answer to the very same question
the Uncertaintists are interested in, namely: how should a person act, tak-
ing into account her beliefs and credences (including her moral beliefs and
credences), given that one sometimes must act while experiencing moral
uncertainty?
I will now draw a lesson using an analogy with epistemology.
24
Here is an example in which three different moral claims might be true, one in each
of these three ways, according to the Uncertaintist:
John’s sixteen-year-old daughter wants to take the morning-after pill. John has two pills
in front of him, A and B. John believes that A is an aspirin and B is the morning-after pill.
In fact, it is the reverse: A is the morning-after pill and B is an aspirin. John is sure that
taking the morning-after pill is wrong and that it is wrong to give it to one’s daughter.
Consider:
(i) John should give his daughter pill A.
(ii) John should give his daughter pill B.
(iii) John should give his daughter neither pill.
(i) is true as an objective moral claim. John should give his daughter what is actually
the morning-after pill: pill A. (ii) is true as a subjective moral claim relative to John’s
non-moral beliefs but ignoring his moral beliefs: a person should give his daughter what
he takes to be the morning-after pill if she wants to take the morning-after pill. (iii) is true
relative to John’s entire mental state, according to the Uncertaintist.
25
Now that we have distinguished these ways in which moral claims may be true, we
can clarify the best interpretation of certain general claims that Uncertaintism makes,
such as: “Someone who is 90% sure that φing is minorly morally wrong, but 10% sure
that failing to φ is deeply morally wrong, should refrain from φing.” Here the agent’s
two mentioned credences are best understood as credences in subjective moral claims that
are relative to the agent’s non-moral credences, ignoring the agent’s moral credences; the final
“should” claim, which the Uncertaintist makes, is best understood as a subjective claim
relative to the agent’s entire mental state.
26
Seppieli (2008) distinguishes the “Non-Normative Belief-Relative ‘Should’ ” from
the “most belief-relative ‘should’ of all—relative to the agent’s beliefs about both the
normative and the non-normative” which seem to correspond to the two kinds of sub-
jectivity I mention. He clarifies that his claims are in terms of the latter (as I say the
Uncertaintist’s claims are).
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 71
Uncertaintists put forward claims like (1) in contexts in which those claims
are not true. Uncertaintists claim that a person who faces moral uncertainty,
such as Bob, is doing the best he can in light of his full epistemic situation,
including both his moral and non-moral beliefs and credences, when he
chooses not to teach Sue to drive. That claim is false.27
27
It’s a bit unclear how to read Sepielli (2008) on this question. On the one hand, he
does say that his claims are in terms of the “most belief-relative ‘should’ of all—relative to
the agent’s beliefs about both the normative and the non-normative.” That’s how I read
him. On the other hand, he comments that he is making claims about “local rationality”
rather than “global rationality,” explaining what an agent should do “relative to” her cre-
dences in claims of the form “action A is better than action B,” etc. I take this to stipulate
that an agent might have other moral beliefs that Sepielli’s view doesn’t take into account;
I do not take him to be saying that his claims ignore the agent’s non-moral beliefs.
74 Elizabeth Harman
The Actualist acknowledges that sometimes one’s beliefs about how one
should behave are relevant to how one should behave—in particular, in
cases in which one’s beliefs about how one should behave are themselves the
warrant for further beliefs about what one’s non-moral situation is.
The lesson of Mary’s case and George’s case is that there is a substantive
epistemological question “how should this agent believe?” that is answered by
consideration of the agent’s whole mental state. The answer cannot be read off
of the agent’s beliefs about how she should believe. Similarly, there is a sub-
stantive normative question “how should this agent behave?”—which is in part
a moral question—that is answered by consideration of the agent’s whole men-
tal state. The answer cannot be read off of the agent’s beliefs and credences
about how she should behave. But epistemology and morality are different,
and the way that these substantive questions get answered may be different.
Now for my second response to the objection. It is not clear to me that
the objector’s claim about George must be true.28
Nevertheless, I do find the objector’s claim about George plausible and I am
not going to deny it. An Actualist does not need to deny the claim about George.
28
The Objector makes his claim; my suggestion is that the Objector’s claim may be
false; a third option is that the there is more than one sense of “epistemically justified”
or “rational” and that the claim is true on one reading and false on another. Miriam
Schoenfield (n.d.) develops a view according to which there are two senses of “rational.”
One credence in P may be rational for George, in light of his evidence. Another credence
for P may be rational for George, in light of his doubt about his reasoning process.
Sepielli (2013) similarly offers a view on which there are various kinds of local rationality
(rationality relative to some of an agent’s evidence and other credences), but there is no
such thing as a credence being globally rational, or rational in light of the agent’s entire
epistemic situation.
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 75
29
While my reading of Sepielli (2008) is that he does not make what I call the uninterest-
ing version of his claim, my reading of Sepielli (2013) suggests he would prefer to embrace
what I call the uninteresting version of his claim, while disputing that it is uninteresting.
76 Elizabeth Harman
30
In my (2011).
31
Yet another view is that some moral truths are such that it is not possible to be
justified in getting them wrong, while other moral truths are such that it is possible to be
justified in getting them wrong. This view may involve a misguided assumption that we
ourselves occupy a privileged position, only wrong or unsure about moral truths that are
deeply hard to know, while others get wrong truths that are easy to know. In fact, others
in the future may themselves be able to see easily how we are going wrong. Even moral
truths that are deeply obvious to some may be hard to see by others trying earnestly,
and even moral truths that seem hard for us are obvious to others. Because there is no
privileged perspective from which to separate the easy from the hard, there are no facts
that some moral questions are easy and some are hard, and thus there is no privileged
class of moral truths such that those—and only those—are the ones one can be justified
in getting wrong.
32
Sepielli (2008: 8) writes: “we cannot base our actions on the correct normative
standards … we cannot guide ourselves by the way the world is, but only by our repre-
sentations of the world.”
33
Sepielli (2008).
34
Sepielli (2013).
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 77
35
Keller (2004) and Stroud (2006) argue that we owe our loved ones the benefit of
the doubt, and that we may owe it to them to refrain from holding beliefs that would be
epistemically justified. Lackey (n.d.) disagrees.
36
See my (2011).
78 Elizabeth Harman
3.8 CONCLUSION
References
Arpaly, N. 2003. Unprincipled Virtue. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Dowell, J. 2013. “Flexible Contextualism about Deontic Modals: A Puzzle about
Information-Sensitivity,” Inquiry 56: 149–78.
FitzPatrick, W. 2008. “Moral Responsibility and Normative Ignorance: Answering
a New Skeptical Challenge,” Ethics 118: 589–613.
37
I owe much thanks to Tyler Doggett, Peter Graham, Alex Guerrero, Sarah McGrath,
Dan Moller, Gideon Rosen, Miriam Schoenfield, Andrew Sepielli, Paulina Sliwa, Brian
Weatherson, and the participants at the 2013 Wisconsin Metaethics Workshop for com-
ments on drafts of this chapter.
The Irrelevance of Moral Uncertainty 79
Let the justificatory challenge for realism about an area, D, be the challenge
to justify our D-beliefs (realistically construed).1 By “justify,” I mean argue
1
I will not consistently add the qualification “realistically construed” in what follows.
But this is always intended. (Obviously, no argument supports or threatens our beliefs
under any construal.) Realism about an area, D, is roughly the view that D-sentences
should be interpreted literally, and that some atomic or existentially quantified ones
are true relevantly counterfactually, constitutively, and causally independent of any-
one’s believing them to be. For a detailed explication of “D-realism,” see Clarke-Doane
(2012a: section 1).
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 81
for, or defend. (I do not assume that being able to justify our belief that p
is either necessary or sufficient for being justified in believing that p.) Then
one answer to the justificatory challenge for mathematical realism is that
the contents of our mathematical beliefs figure into the best explanation of
our observations. By “observation,” I mean any “immediate judgment made
in response to the situation without any conscious reasoning” (Harman
1977: 208), where a judgment is a mental event, not a propositional con-
tent. Note that both mathematical and moral beliefs, understood in the
occurrent sense, may qualify as observations. W. V. O. Quine writes:
Objects at the atomic level and beyond are posited to make the laws of macroscopic
objects, and ultimately the laws of experience, simpler … Moreover, the abstract
entities which are the substance of mathematics … are another posit in the same
spirit. Epistemologically these are myths on the same footing with physical objects …
neither better nor worse except for differences in the degree to which they expedite
our dealings with sense experiences.
(Quine 1951: 42)2
One advantage to Quine’s answer to the justificatory challenge for math-
ematical realism is that it seems to afford an empirical justification of our
mathematical beliefs (realistically conceived). By an “empirical justifica-
tion,” I mean an argument or defense that should convince an empiri-
cal scientific realist. In particular, one can argue that, merely by being an
empirical scientific realist, one is committed, on pain of incoherence, to
being a mathematical realist. As Hilary Putnam writes:
[Q]uantification over mathematical entities is indispensable for science … therefore
we should accept such quantification; but this commits us to … the existence of
the mathematical entities [that satisfy our theories]. This type of argument stems,
of course, from Quine, who has for years stressed both the indispensability of quan-
tification over mathematical entities and the intellectual dishonesty of denying the
existence of what one daily presupposes.
(Putnam 1971: 347)
The drawback of Quine’s answer to the justificatory challenge is that it
seems to afford no way to justify all of our mathematical beliefs. It seems
hopeless to argue that the contents of our higher set-theoretic beliefs figure
into the best explanation of our observations, for example. Quine him-
self was compelled to pronounce such truths “mathematical recreation and
without ontological rights” (Quine 1986: 400).
2
I am not sure whether Quine means the same thing by “sense experience” as Harman
means by “observation,” though their usage of these terms is clearly related. But I will
be concerned with the Quinean position where “sense experience” means what Harman
means by “observation.”
82 Justin Clarke-Doane
3
Of course, some ethicists have challenged this appearance—just as some philosophers
of mathematics have challenged the appearance that the contents of our typical mathe-
matical beliefs (realistically construed) figure into the best explanation of our observations.
See, for example, Sturgeon (1985), Brink (1989), and Boyd (2003a, 2003b), in the moral
case, and Chihara (1990), Field (1980, 1989), and Hellman (1989) in the mathematical.
4
Pedantically: the Indispensability Thesis says that for any typical (i.e., not higher set-
theoretic) mathematical truth, p, and for any observation, O, the best explanation of O
implies p, and Harman’s Objection says that there is no moral truth, q, and observation, O,
such that the best explanation of O implies q. Why does anyone believe the Indispensability
Thesis, so strongly formulated? Because typical mathematics seems to play a role in our
empirical scientific theories that is like the role played in them by their logic. It is a back-
ground assumption, so that every explanation “will contain the axioms of number theory
and analysis” (Steiner 1973: 61). (Harman’s Objection is sometimes understood as the claim
that the contents of our moral beliefs do not figure into the best explanation of intuitively
“observable phenomena” more generally—including, e.g., the movements of planets. The
argument which follows would work equally under this reading of “Harman’s Objection.”)
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 83
5
But see Clarke-Doane (2014: section 2). Note that it does not follow that we can-
not justify our moral beliefs in any way. Traditional realists about both mathematics and
morality have tended to justify their (epistemically basic) beliefs by appeal to their intui-
tive evidentness. See Gödel (1947) and Ross (1939) for classic arguments.
6
I will not consistently add the qualification “knowledge of,” but this is always
intended. Note that (knowledge of ) information, E, undermines our belief that p only if
p was antecedently justified.
7
Joyce’s argument strictly speaks of the truth of our moral beliefs, while Harman’s
Objection speaks of their contents. But if the contents of our moral beliefs fail to figure
into the best explanation of any of our observations, then so does their truth, and vice
versa, by (uncontroversial instances of ) the T-schema. I will, therefore, mostly ignore the
distinction between the contents of our beliefs and their truth in what follows.
84 Justin Clarke-Doane
beliefs, Harman’s Objection would show that they were never justified to
begin with. But even if this were what Joyce intended to show, such an argu-
ment would have no traction with Joyce’s primary targets—“non-naturalist”
moral realists—who explicitly accept Harman’s Objection and so, of course,
reject Quinean empiricism.8
The only promising answer to the question of how Harman’s Objection
could undermine our moral beliefs of which I am aware is suggested by the
work of Sharon Street.9 She writes:
[T]he realist must hold that an astonishing [inexplicable] coincidence took place—
claiming that as a matter of sheer luck, evolutionary pressures affected our evaluative
attitudes in such a way that they just happened to land on … the true normative
views … [T]o explain why human beings tend to make the normative judgments
that we do, we do not need to suppose that these judgments are true.
(Street 2008: 208–9, emphasis in original)
Let the reliability challenge for realism about an area, D, be the chal-
lenge to explain the reliability of our D-beliefs (realistically construed).
Then I understand genealogical debunking arguments as follows. Harman’s
Objection (or a consequence of it) undermines our moral beliefs (realisti-
cally construed) by showing that the reliability challenge for moral realism
is unanswerable. The assumption, familiar from Hartry Field, is that “our
belief in a theory [is] undermined if … it would [appear to] be a huge coin-
cidence if what we believed about its subject matter were correct” (Field
2005: 77). What debunkers must add is that in order to relevantly explain
the reliability of our D-beliefs (realistically construed), it is at least necessary to
show that their contents figure into their best explanation.10
The Indispensability Thesis blocks a genealogical debunking argument
against mathematical realism (where our elementary mathematical beliefs
are Harmanian observations). Joyce writes:
There is some evidence that natural selection has provided humans with an inbuilt
faculty for simple arithmetic … [D]oes the fact that we have such a genealogical
explanation of our simple mathematical beliefs serve to demonstrate that we are
8
See Joyce (2006: ch. 6). In his (forthcoming), p. 17, Joyce seems not to appreciate this.
9
I will discuss two answers which are suggested by Joyce’s work in section 4.3.
10
I borrow the term “reliability challenge” from Schechter (2010), though I under-
stand it in accord with Field (1989: 26). Unlike debunkers and Field (see section 4.7),
Schechter does not believe that the apparent impossibility of explaining the reliability of
our D-beliefs undermines them (realistically construed). He merely thinks that it “counts
against” them. I believe that the interest of the reliability challenge for D-realism is greatly
diminished if it is not supposed to undermine our D-beliefs (realistically construed). But
I will not be concerned with Schechter’s view.
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 85
unjustified in holding these beliefs? Surely not, for we have no grasp of how [math-
ematical] belief[s] might have been selected for … independent of [their] truth.
(Joyce 2006: 182)11
If it is assumed that such an argument not only blocks one way of show-
ing that the reliability challenge for mathematical realism is unanswerable,
but also suffices to answer that challenge, then it follows that showing that
the contents of our D-beliefs figure into their best explanation is both neces-
sary and sufficient for relevantly explaining their reliability. How plausible is
this conclusion? In what follows, I consider the necessity and the sufficiency
claims in reverse order.
13
See Clarke-Doane (2014) and (forthcoming a). In fact, there is no plausible ana-
logue of Benacerraf ’s concern in the moral case (Clarke-Doane 2014: section 3). There
does obtain a causal relation between us and the subject matter (the values of the names
and bound variables) of our moral beliefs. Their subject matter is the likes of people,
actions, and events. One might respond that there does not obtain a causal relation
between us and the subject matter of sentences like “Generosity is a virtue.” But whether
we ought to believe any sentence of the form “F-ness is G” on a face-value construal is
just the problem of universals. If we ought, then there fails to obtain a causal relation
between us and the subject matter of all manner of our beliefs—e.g., that red is a color,
that force is the product of mass and acceleration, and that Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony
is in the key of C minor. If we ought not, then such examples are irrelevant. Either way,
unlike our mathematical beliefs, our moral beliefs generate no new Benacerraf problem
(a similar point applies if one takes apparent talk of “reasons” as ontologically commit-
ting). This point is widely missed. See, for example, Bengson (forthcoming) and Joyce
(forthcoming: 9).
14
A similar point can be made with respect to logic. Every logical truth is a con-
sequence of every explanation at all. Hence, for any logical truth that we believe, p, p
figures into the best explanation of our “observation” that p. But surely this truism does
not suffice to answer the reliability challenge for logical realism.
15
Note that Field does not challenge the Indispensability Thesis in this context.
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 87
4.4 SENSITIVITY
There are two reasons latent in the literature on debunking arguments. The first
is that an explanation of the reliability of our D-beliefs would show that had the
D-truths been different, our D-beliefs would have been correspondingly different.18
16
See also Hart (1996).
17
See also the quote from Field in section 4.7, as well as his (2005) where he
writes: “[A]lthough [those who argue that Benacerraf ’s problem doesn’t arise for the
empiricist] say that empirical evidence bears on mathematical claims, they have not
offered (and could not easily offer) even a clear sketch of how the experiences that alleg-
edly might overturn our mathematics are reliable symptoms of the facts about mathe-
matical objects” (Field 2005: 71). Colyvan claims not to fall prey to the above confusion,
but I do not understand how he supposes himself to avoid it. Hart does not seem to
acknowledge a distinction between justifying our beliefs and explaining their reliability.
18
Or, more weakly, it would block the worry that had the D-truths been different, our
D-beliefs would have failed to be (perhaps on the grounds that such counterfactuals are
unintelligible). See Field (2005) and Clarke-Doane (2012a). The differences between the
two demands will not matter for my purposes.
88 Justin Clarke-Doane
For convenience, I will say that our D-beliefs are sensitive if this counterfactual is
true.19 The assumption is that if the contents of our D-beliefs fail to figure into
their best explanation, then they fail to be sensitive. Joyce writes:
Suppose that the actual world contains real categorical requirements—the kind that
would be necessary to render moral discourse true. In such a world humans will be
disposed to make moral judgments … for natural selection will make it so. Now
imagine instead that the actual world contains no such requirements at all—noth-
ing to make moral discourse true. In such a world, humans will still be disposed to
make these judgments … for natural selection will make it so … [D]oes the truth of
moral judgments … play a role in their usefulness? … I believe the answer is “No.”
(Joyce 2001: 163, emphasis in original)20
The problem with such arguments is well-known.21 Suppose that our
explanatorily basic moral beliefs—our conditional beliefs which purport
to state the conditions under which a moral property is instantiated—are
(actually) true, and that the explanatorily basic moral truths would be nec-
essary if true at all. Then our explanatorily basic moral beliefs are vacuously
sensitive on a standard semantics. Our non-basic moral beliefs seem to be
sensitive even if the explanatorily basic moral truths would be metaphysi-
cally contingent. Had Bush’s invasion of Iraq not been wrong, it would
have been different in non-moral respects, and our moral beliefs would have
varied correspondingly (since, even if the explanatorily basic moral truths
would not be metaphysically necessary, the closest worlds in which the ante-
cedent is true are presumably worlds in which those truths are the same).22
Note that neither conclusion depends on the claim that the contents (or
truth) of our moral beliefs figure into their best explanation.23
19
Note that, while related, the present notion of sensitivity is different from that of
Nozick (1981: ch. 3). Both notions must plausibly be relativized to a method of belief
formation, though how they ought to be is irrelevant for my purposes.
20
Similarly, Michael Ruse writes:
You would believe what you do about right and wrong, irrespective of whether or not a
“true” right and wrong existed! The Darwinian claims that his/her theory gives an entire
analysis of our moral sentiments. Nothing more is needed. Given two worlds, identical
except that one has an objective morality and the other does not, the humans therein
would think and act in exactly the same ways.
(Ruse 1986: 254)
And Walter Sinnott-Armstrong writes:
The evolutionary explanations [of our moral beliefs] work even if there are no moral
facts at all.
(Sinnott-Armstrong 2006: 46)
21
See Sturgeon (1985, 1986) for the basic insight.
22
Thanks to Alex Silk for helpful discussion of this point.
23
Joyce no longer wishes to rely on such counterfactuals (see his (forthcoming)).
Unfortunately, he does not seem to replace this reliance with an alternative answer to the
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 89
explain why it proved advantageous to form judgments about the presence of fires,
predators, and cliffs, one will need to posit in one’s best explanation that there were
indeed fires, predators, and cliffs, which it proved quite useful to be aware of, given
that one could be burned by them, eaten by them, or could plummet over them.
(Street 2006: 160, fn. 35)
But even if the contents of our ordinary object beliefs figure into their
best explanation, we do not seem to be able to show that our explanato-
rily basic ones are sensitive with respect to “conceptually possible worlds.”26
While it may be metaphysically necessary that the conditions under which
the property of being a rock is instantiated are what they are, it seems that
they could have been different “as a purely conceptual matter.” That they are
is just what some ontologists allege. These ontologists allege that particles
arranged rockwise fail to compose a rock.27 But had—for all that we can
intelligibly imagine—this been the case, our rock beliefs would have been
the same.28
The mathematical case makes the point vividly. By the Indispensability
Thesis, the contents of our typical mathematical beliefs figure into the
best explanation of every observation. But it is commonly held that, even
if the Indispensability Thesis is true, virtually none of our mathematical
beliefs is sensitive with respect to “conceptually possible” worlds.29 In fact,
26
We seem to be able to show that our non-basic moral beliefs are sensitive with
respect to conceptually possible worlds for the same reason that we seem to be able to
show that they are sensitive with respect to metaphysically possible ones. The closest
worlds in which the non-basic moral truths are different are presumably still worlds in
which the explanatorily basic moral truths are the same.
27
See Van Inwagen (1990) and Merricks (2001). See also Clarke-Doane (2014: sec-
tion 3), and Berker (2014: section 8).
28
This shows that the widely assumed view that we were “selected to have true ordi-
nary object beliefs,” but not true moral beliefs, is obscure at best. For virtually any area,
D, had the explanatorily basic D-truths been different, it would have benefited our
ancestors to have correspondingly different D-beliefs—given the (actual) truth of our
D-beliefs and that this counterfactual is evaluated with respect to metaphysically possible
worlds. For virtually any area, D, the explanatorily basic D-truths would be metaphysi-
cally necessary, so the counterfactual is (vacuously) true. In particular, if D is morality,
then the counterfactual is true. However, for virtually any area, D, the counterfactual
is false if it is evaluated with respect to “conceptually possible” worlds. For virtually no
D-truths would be conceptually necessary in the sense in question. In particular, the
counterfactual is false if D is ordinary object discourse, as explained above. (Again, had
the non-basic D-truths been different, it would have benefited our ancestors to have
correspondingly different D-beliefs—given the (actual) truth of our D-beliefs—whether
this counterfactual is evaluated with respect to metaphysically or conceptually possible
worlds. In particular, this is true when D is morality, as explained above.)
29
See Azzouni (1994: 56), Balaguer (1999: 113), Ellis (1990: 113), Horgan
(1987: 281), and the quotation from Field below.
92 Justin Clarke-Doane
4.5 SAFETY
30
There is an argument from the Indispensability Thesis to the sensitivity of our
mathematical beliefs with respect to “conceptually possible” worlds. But it is highly sus-
pect. See Field (1989: 18–20) and Clarke-Doane (2012a).
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 93
31
It must be our explanatorily basic beliefs that are in question since, again, had our
non-basic beliefs been different, they would not plausibly have been false (given their
actual truth).
32
Again, a method of belief formation must plausibly be held fixed. But how exactly
it ought to be is irrelevant for my purposes, so I ignore this complication. (Note that the
present formulation of safety avoids the consequence that beliefs in necessary truths are
automatically safe. See Pritchard (2008) for a related treatment.)
33
There is an argument that if our “core” moral beliefs are safe, then our moral beliefs
generally are as safe as our beliefs from any area are. See Clarke-Doane (2012b: section 3).
94 Justin Clarke-Doane
matters is whether showing that our moral beliefs are safe requires showing
that their contents figure into their best explanation. It clearly does not.34
In fact, showing that the contents of our moral beliefs figure into their best
explanation does not even seem to suffice to establish their safety. The appeal
of pluralist accounts of mathematics, such as Mark Balaguer’s “Full-Blooded
Platonism,” according to which every (consistent) mathematical theory is
equally true (under a face-value Tarskian truth definition), is arguably that our
mathematical beliefs would not be safe if (non-pluralist) standard mathemati-
cal realism were true.35 Even if we could not have easily believed that 1 + 1 = 3,
or that addition is not commutative, arithmetic trivialities wildly underdeter-
mine the content of our mathematical theories. The Indispensability Thesis
does nothing evidently to show that our mathematical beliefs are suitably con-
strained. Field writes:
[Pluralists solve] the [Benacerraf ] problem by articulating views on which though
mathematical objects are mind independent, any view we had had of them would have
been correct … [T]hese views allow for … knowledge in mathematics, and unlike
more standard [realist] views, they seem to give an intelligible explanation of it.
(Field 2005: 78)36
A similar point applies to ordinary objects. A common motivation for
“mereological permissivism” is that our ordinary object beliefs would not be
safe if standard mereological realism were true. Korman writes:
Proponents of sufficiently permissive conceptions … can admit that we could easily
have come to have slightly or radically different conventions, and that we would then
have judged there to be various kinds of extraordinary objects. But our beliefs are none-
theless safe: whichever conventions we had ended up with, our judgments about the
existence of the relevant objects would still have been correct. The extraordinary objects
are all already out there waiting to be noticed; all that our conventions do is determine
which ones we do notice.
(Korman 2011: section 4.2, emphasis in original)37
34
Note that I am not saying that our moral beliefs are safe. I am saying that showing
that they are need not involve showing that their contents figure into their best explanation.
35
See Clarke-Doane (forthcoming a: section 3). The relevant notion of consistency is
a primitive modal one.
36
This is awkward, since, in the same section Field claims that the Benacerraf problem
is the problem of showing that our mathematical beliefs are sensitive. But mathemati-
cal pluralism does nothing to help with this. Had—“as a purely conceptual matter”—
Balaguer’s pluriverse failed to exist, or had it been different, our mathematical beliefs
would have been the same. Indeed, Balaguer concedes that “[i]f there were never any
such things as [mathematical] objects, the physical world [and, hence, our mathematical
beliefs] would be exactly as it is right now” (Balaguer 1999: 113).
37
Similarly, an earlier draft of Korman (2014)—which, coincidentally, is premised on
the thesis that I am challenging here—contained the following quotations from Heller,
Sider, and Hawthorne on pp. 1–2:
[I]f we conceptually divide up the world into objects one way rather than another
because doing so will serve our purposes better [which we do], then there is little chance
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 95
Again, merely arguing that the contents of our explanatorily basic ordi-
nary object beliefs figure into their best explanation does nothing evidently
to show that they could not have easily been different.
To sum up: debunking arguments themselves show that our moral
beliefs may be safe, even if their contents fail to figure into their best
explanation—and reflection on the ordinary object and mathematical
cases suggests that they may fail to be safe even if their contents do so fig-
ure. Hence, even if showing that our D-beliefs are safe is necessary for rel-
evantly explaining their reliability, this is no reason to assume that showing
that our D-beliefs figure in the best explanation is necessary for explaining
their reliability. Is there any other reason to assume this?
There is still the intuition that if the contents of our moral beliefs failed to
figure into their best explanation, then those beliefs would “have nothing
to do with” the moral truths (realistically construed).38 But stripped of its
connection with sensitivity or safety, what could this mean? It could just
amount to a restatement of Harman’s Objection (or a consequence of it).39
But, in that case, the intuition cannot be used to explain how Harman’s
that the resulting ontology will be the true ontology … In principle, we could by sheer
coincidence arrive at the true ontology by the use of conventions … I will discount the
possibility of such a coincidence.
(Heller 1990: 44)
On [a conservative) view, the entities that exist correspond exactly with the categories for
continuants in our conceptual scheme: trees, aggregates, statues, lumps, persons, bodies,
and so on. How convenient! It would be nothing short of a miracle if reality just hap-
pened to match our conceptual scheme in this way.
(Sider 2001: 156–7)
Barring a kind of anti-realism that none of us should tolerate, wouldn’t it be remarkable
if the lines of reality matched the lines that we have words for? The simplest exercises of
sociological imagination ought to convince us that the assumption of such a harmony is
altogether untoward, since such exercises convince us that it is something of a biological
and/or cultural accident that we draw the lines that we do.
(Hawthorne 2006: 109)
Note that, unlike mathematical pluralism, mereological permissivism only “vindicates”
positive beliefs of the relevant sort. It does not, for instance, vindicate the belief that there
are not any “incars”—cars that are, necessarily, located in garages.
38
Debunking arguments are often formulated in such a way as to leave this intuition
unanalyzed. See Street (2006).
39
The claim that there is no “explanatory connection” between our moral beliefs and
their contents (or truth) is an example of this suggestion. Again, this seems to be Joyce’s
in his (forthcoming). See n. 23.
96 Justin Clarke-Doane
40
Again, this suggestion appears to be confused anyway. See n. 13.
41
See Street (n.d.) for an apparent example of this suggestion.
42
What if we only assign objective probability 1 to contents which are necessary in
an even stronger sense—e.g., “conceptually necessary”? Then, again, the contents of our
uncontroversial beliefs—e.g., our explanatorily basic ordinary object beliefs—would
seem to have equal claim to being objectively improbable. See section 4.4. (Thanks to
David James Barnett for discussion.)
43
Perhaps the quoted phrase means that the truth of our belief that p is not “grounded
in” or “constituted by” the fact that p (see Bengson (forthcoming) for something like this
proposal)? Such hyperintensional ideology does not seem to me to be more perspicuous
than the quoted phrase itself. But, even if it were, this proposal could not serve debunk-
ers’ dialectical purposes, as will become clear below.
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 97
we may be obligated to give up beliefs which we can show were (all but)
bound to be true.
How could that happen? That it could not is the key idea behind the
following.
Modal Security: Information, E, cannot undermine our D-beliefs
without giving us some reason to believe that our D-beliefs are not
both safe and sensitive.44
Modal Security states a necessary condition on E. It does not say that if
E gives us some reason to believe that our D-beliefs are not both safe and
sensitive, then E undermines those beliefs. It says that if E does not even do
this, then E cannot be thought to undermine them.
This principle is weak. It is plausible that E cannot undermine our
D-beliefs without giving us some reason to believe that our D-beliefs are
not safe—i.e., without giving us some reason to believe that, even if our
D-beliefs are actually true (as we assume, for the sake of argument, in the
moral case), we might have easily had false ones. Even if this is incorrect,
it is hard to see how E could undermine our D-beliefs without giving us
some reason to believe either that our D-beliefs are not safe or that they are
not sensitive.45 If E fails to give us some reason to believe either of these
things, then E fails to threaten our judgment that our D-beliefs were (all
but) bound to be true. How could information obligate us to give up our
beliefs of a kind while failing to threaten our judgment they were (all but)
bound to be true?
It might be thought that Modal Security has absurd implications.
Suppose that we are astrological realists. If we are granted the (defeasible)
justification and (actual) truth of our astrological beliefs, and we can argue
both that the explanatorily basic astrological truths would be necessary if
true at all and that we could not have easily had different explanatorily basic
astrological beliefs, then, by Modal Security, we can relevantly explain their
reliability. That is, we can explain their reliability in any sense which is such
that the apparent impossibility of explaining their reliability undermines
them. Of course, it is doubtful that we could argue these things. But would
it be a reductio of Modal Security if we could? Arguably, it would be a
reductio of the idea that we should be granted the (defeasible) justification and
44
This principle is introduced in Clarke-Doane (forthcoming a). Again, sensitivity
and safety must plausibly be relativized to methods of belief formation. (Thanks to David
James Barnett for extensive discussion of this and related principles.)
45
“Rebutting” as well as “undercutting” underminers satisfies Modal Security. If E is
evidence for (the contents of ) alternative D-beliefs, then E is evidence that our D-beliefs
are false and so, a fortiori, not both safe and sensitive. (Thanks to Sinan Dogramaci for
helpful discussion of these issues.)
98 Justin Clarke-Doane
(actual) truth of our astrological beliefs. If we are not granted these things, then
there may be no hope of a dialectically effective argument against our position.
But absent an answer to the question above, such an argument does not, in
general, seem possible. If Modal Security is true, then debunking arguments
overreach.46
If Modal Security is true, then it is false that we must show that the contents
of our moral beliefs figure into their best explanation in order to relevantly
explain their reliability. It suffices to show that our moral beliefs are both safe
and sensitive, and, as we have seen, in order to show this, we need not show
that their contents figure into their best explanation.47
But even absent an argument that debunkers’ key assumption is false,
I hope to have shown that the positive arguments that it is true are poor. Why,
then, have so many philosophers supposed otherwise? I suggest that, like some
advocates of the Indispensability Thesis, they have confused the justificatory
and reliability challenges for realism about an area. Field writes:
[W]e can formulate [Benacerraf’s] challenge so as to make indispensability considera-
tions of questionable relevance to answering it. The way to understand Benacerraf’s
challenge … is not as a challenge to … justify our mathematical beliefs, but as a chal-
lenge to … explain the reliability of these beliefs. We start out by assuming the existence
of mathematical entities that obey the standard mathematical theories; we grant also
that there may be positive reasons for believing in those entities. These positive reasons
might … be that the postulation of these entities appears to be indispensable … But
Benacerraf’s challenge … is to … explain how our beliefs about these remote entities
can so well reflect the facts about them … [I]f it appears in principle impossible to explain
this, then that tends to undermine the belief in mathematical entities, despite whatever
reason we might have for believing in them.
(Field 1989: 26, emphasis in original)
I take Field to suggest that the challenge to empirically justify our math-
ematical beliefs should not be confused with the challenge to explain their reli-
ability. Some explanations of the reliability of our mathematical beliefs—such
as Balaguer’s—fail to empirically justify them, since they fail to imply that their
contents figure into the best explanation of any of our observations (though,
again, Balaguer’s view is consistent with this).48 Some empirical justifications
46
See also Clarke-Doane (forthcoming a: section 6, and forthcoming b: section 4).
47
Note that it may be highly non-trivial to show this in either the mathematical or the
moral cases, since it may be highly non-trivial to show that our beliefs are safe.
48
Balaguer is explicit that his purpose is not to justify our mathematical beliefs, but
rather to explain their reliability (under the assumption that they are true). See his (1995).
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 99
inability to show that their contents figure into the best explanation of any
of our observations). Hence, Harman’s Objection may not, and, if Modal
Security is true, cannot show that the reliability challenge for moral realism
is unanswerable.
4.8 CONCLUSIONS
49
The empirical fact of moral and mathematical disagreement might have the same effect,
in which case genealogical speculation would turn out to be unnecessary in this context. For
more on disagreements in mathematics, see Clarke-Doane (2014). For an example of a kind
of debunking argument which makes no use of Harman’s Objection, see Kitcher (2006).
50
Thanks to David James Barnett, Sinan Dogramaci, Hartry Field, Toby Handfield,
Colin Marshall, Josh May, Jennifer McDonald, Alex Silk, Jussi Suikkanen, two anony-
mous referees for Oxford Studies in Metaethics, and to audiences at the University of
Birmingham, Columbia University, the University of Cambridge, the University of
Oxford, the 2013 Wisconsin Metaethics Workshop, and the 2014 Set Theory of Semantic
Theories of Truth & Metaphysical Basis of Logic (STSTT/MBL) series at the Northern
Institute of Philosophy, for helpful feedback.
Justification and Explanation in Mathematics and Morality 101
References
Azzouni, J. 1994. Metaphysical Myths, Mathematical Practice: The Ontology and
Epistemology of the Exact Sciences. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Balaguer, M. 1995. “A Platonist Epistemology,” Synthese 103: 303–25.
Balaguer, M. 1999. “Review of Resnick,” Philosophia Mathematica 7: 108–26.
Benacerraf, P. 1973. “Mathematical Truth,” Journal of Philosophy 70: 661–79.
Bengson, J. Forthcoming. “Grasping the Third Realm,” Oxford Studies in
Epistemology.
Berker, S. 2014. “Does Evolutionary Psychology Show That Normativity Is Mind-
Dependent?,” in J. D’Arms and D. Jacobson (eds.), Moral Psychology and Human
Agency: Philosophical Essays on the Science of Ethics. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 215–52.
Boyd, R. 2003a. “Finite Beings, Finite Goods: The Semantics, Metaphysics and
Ethics of Naturalist Consequentialism, Part I,” Philosophy and Phenomenological
Research 66: 505–53.
Boyd, R. 2003b. “Finite Beings, Finite Goods: The Semantics, Metaphysics and
Ethics of Naturalist Consequentialism, Part II,” Philosophy and Phenomenological
Research 67: 24–47.
Brink, D. 1989. Moral Realism and the Foundations of Ethics. New York: Cambridge
University Press.
Chihara, C. 1990. Constructability and Mathematical Existence. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Clarke-Doane, J. 2012a. “Morality and Mathematics: The Evolutionary Challenge,”
Ethics 122, 313–40.
Clarke-Doane, J. 2012b. “Response to Braddock, Mogensen, and
Sinnott-Armstrong—Part II,” Ethics at PEA Soup. Available at: <http://peasoup.
typepad.com/peasoup/2012/03/ethicsdiscussions-at-pea-soup-justin-clarke-doa
nes-morality-and-mathematics-the-evolutionary-challe1.html>.
Clarke-Doane, J. 2014. “Moral Epistemology: The Mathematics Analogy,” Noûs
38: 238–55.
Clarke-Doane, J. Forthcoming a. “What is the Benacerraf Problem?,” in F. Pataut
(ed.), New Perspectives on the Philosophy of Paul Benacerraf: Truth, Objects, Infinity.
Clarke-Doane, J. Forthcoming b. “Genealogy and Reliability,” in N. Sinclair and
U. Leibowitz (eds.), Ethics and Explanation.
Colyvan, M. 2007. “Mathematical Recreation versus Mathematical Knowledge,”
in M. Leng, A. Paseau, and M. Potter (eds.), Mathematical Knowledge.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 109–22.
Darwin, C. 1871. The Descent of Man. New York: Appleton.
Ellis, B. 1990. Truth and Objectivity. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Field, H. 1980. Science without Numbers. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Field, H. 1989. Realism, Mathematics, and Modality. Oxford: Blackwell.
Field, H. 1996. “The A Prioricity of Logic,” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society
96: 359–79.
102 Justin Clarke-Doane
5.1 INTRODUCTION
1
Three clarificatory notes. First, strictly speaking, Enoch takes certain belief-forming
methods to be indispensable. In calling belief in Robust Realism “indispensable” here, we
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 105
signal that, according to Enoch, it follows from the proper deployment of an indispen-
sable method. We explain this part of Enoch’s reasoning in more detail below (in section
5.2). Second, we treat facts as the standard metaphysical relata throughout, while Enoch
typically talks of truths. We take this change to be unobjectionable given Enoch’s com-
mitments, a point that he himself emphasizes (2011b: 5). Third, we talk of ethical facts,
where Enoch tends to talk of normative facts. We mean “ethical” here broadly, to refer to
the normative and evaluative facts that govern our practical lives. We insist on this change
in wording because epistemic facts are also normative, and because the contrast between
ethical and epistemic normativity is central to our project here.
106 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
2
There might be other ways of drawing the distinction between Hallie’s different rea-
sons that would work for our argumentative purposes in this chapter. Our point is that
however one draws this distinction, the case of Hallie brings out an intuitive and impor-
tant contrast between two different sets of norms that an agent can be subject to. We are
characterizing one set of these norms as the norms of genuine epistemic justification, and
we submit that it is deeply intuitive that only one set of these norms can plausibly be
understood this way.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 107
In this section and the next, we aim to illustrate the promise and perils of
Indispensabilism by exploring its powerful recent defense by David Enoch.
In this section, we first explain the role of that defense in Enoch’s case for
his Robust Realism about ethical facts. This illuminates part of the potential
metaethical significance of Indispensabilism. We then lay out the details of
Enoch’s case for Indispensabilism, which puts us in a position to evaluate it
in the following section.
3
While some philosophers (e.g., Broome 1999; Kolodny 2005) use “rationality” to
talk about distinctively structural normativity, Enoch uses “rationality” here as a way to
talk about substantive normative facts.
108 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
one does disengage from such a project. It is worth emphasizing that this
account is explicitly normative. A project thus does not count as intrinsi-
cally indispensable in Enoch’s sense simply because one is stuck with engag-
ing in it (in the non-normative sense of “stuck with”).4
There can be necessary conditions for pursuing such a project. According
to Enoch, for something to be instrumentally indispensable to a project is for
its elimination to undermine or attenuate the reasons that we had for engag-
ing in that project in the first place. Crucially, Enoch wants to distinguish
such instrumentally indispensable features from mere “enabling conditions”
for a project. For example, take the relationship between getting adequate
sleep and the project of engaging in scientific inquiry. Enoch claims that
while getting enough sleep might be an enabling condition for this project,
it is not instrumentally indispensable to this project, in the sense of “instru-
mentally indispensable” that he has in mind (2011b: 68).
With these clarifications in hand, we can now present Enoch’s overall
indispensability argument in schematic form:5
1. If (implicitly or explicitly) treating a belief-forming method as a source
of basic epistemic justification is instrumentally indispensable to an
intrinsically indispensable project, then that method is a source of basic
epistemic justification (2011b: 60–4).
2. The project of practical deliberation is intrinsically indispensable (2011b:
70–3).
3. Treating our commitments in practical deliberation as a source of basic
epistemic justification is instrumentally indispensable to the deliberative
project (cf. 2011b: 67–9).
4. Therefore, our commitments in practical deliberation are a source of
basic epistemic justification (from premises 1–3).
4
On this point, Enoch (2011b) differs from his (2007) presentation of his indispen-
sability argument. This change makes Enoch’s metaethical views more consistent: as he
himself notes, the earlier version of his argument faces his own “schmagency” challenge
to attempts to explain authoritative normativity in terms of necessary facts about agency
(Enoch 2006). The change also allows Enoch to avoid intuitive worries that afflict his
earlier argument. For example, we can imagine possible creatures who are doomed to
engage in worthless projects—perhaps because they were designed to be doomed in this
way. It is especially hard to see why serving such a project could epistemically justify
otherwise unsupported beliefs. For these reasons, we take Enoch’s explicitly normative
gloss on intrinsic indispensability in his (2011b) to be a significant improvement on the
original (2007) version.
5
Enoch provides a simpler schematic summary of his argument (2011b: 83).
However, because that reconstruction elides detail in his argument that is crucial to our
discussion here, we have provided our own, slightly more complex summary here.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 109
6
Here are two examples. First, premise (3) is challenged by the existence of credible
anti-intuitionist approaches to moral epistemology. Second, with premises (2) and (5),
Enoch faces a version of a dilemma he himself has pressed against the constitutivist: the
more you build into a conception of practical deliberation, the less plausible it is that
doing that is rationally non-optional (2011b: 71–2). We find it especially doubtful that
belief in the existence of ethical facts, as conceived of by Robust Realism is delibera-
tively indispensable. For related challenges, see Husi (2013: §4), Lenman (2014), and
Björnsson and Olinder (forthcoming).
110 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
7
Consider two familiar alternatives. First, one might propose a vindication of the
sources of basic epistemic justification by providing an ontological reduction of the source
of basic epistemic justification relation. Second, a proponent of ambitious conceptual anal-
yses (à la Jackson 1998) might propose a vindication via an analysis of the concept basic
source of justification that illuminated its extension.
8
For a helpful overview of grounding in contemporary metaphysics, see Trogdon
(2013).
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 111
9
Enoch’s clearest official statement of his thesis (2011b: 63) provides a mere suffi-
ciency condition for being a source of basic epistemic justification. Enoch clearly intends
the thesis to be explanatory, and our formulation reflects that fact. It should be noted that
many important motivations for this thesis (including both motivations that we discuss
below) would be more compelling if Pragmatic were strengthened to purport to explain
the complete grounds of all basic sources of justification.
10
See McPherson (2011: section 4) for a brief exploration of this contrast, in terms of
“formal” vs. “robust” normativity.
112 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
5.3.1 Truth-Directedness
Recall the case of Hallie and the demon. The demon will torture every sen-
tient being if Hallie ceases to believe that she sounds exactly like Journey’s
Steve Perry when she sings “Don’t Stop Believin’ ” in the shower. As we
emphasized, this fact fails to provide epistemic justification for Hallie’s con-
tinuing to believe that her singing voice sounds like Steve Perry’s. A compel-
ling explanation of this failure is that this fact about the consequences of
Hallie’s belief is wholly unconnected to the truth of the proposition that her
singing voice sounds like Steve Perry’s. If this diagnosis is right, it suggests
that any adequate explanation of the sources of basic epistemic justification
will need to appeal in a central way to some link between those sources and
true belief.
114 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
11
This simple proposal is intended only as an illustration. Perhaps, as Schechter and
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 115
arguing that even if only evidence constitutes reason to believe, pragmatic considera-
tions can enter into an account of knowledge by providing reasons to suspend judg-
ment. Neither of these rationales can easily be adapted to an account of the sources
of basic epistemic justification. Note, however, that if one combined pragmatic
encroachment with the view that the evidence that constitutes a subject’s justification
for belief just is that subject’s knowledge, pragmatic encroachment on knowledge
would also infect prima facie justification. Such a combination is not compatible with
Truth-Directedness.
14
See Berker (2013: §3) for dozens of endorsements by epistemologists of similar
(often stronger) theses about the relationship between epistemic justification and truth.
15
We take Stich’s radical challenge to be significant. We set it aside here, however,
because addressing it would require an entirely distinct sort of argument.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 117
16
Compare Alston (2005): Alston abandons the idea that there is a single category of
epistemic justification. Still, he is able to characterize various features as epistemic desid-
erata in large part because all of them are in some way or another truth-directed.
17
One example: the central “problem of normativity” in contemporary
knowledge-centric epistemology is arguably to explain why knowledge is relevantly bet-
ter than mere true belief, given that truth is the fundamental normative currency of
epistemology. Cf., e.g., Sosa (2007: Lecture 4).
118 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
18
One might question whether Sparky is genuinely possible. For example, on a stand-
ard functionalist account of psychology, a belief is a state that, inter alia, interacts with
desires in certain ways. Functionalism would thus take a dim view of Sparky imagined
as a “pure thinker” with beliefs but no desires. However, we insist only that Sparky lack
the capacity for practical deliberation (as Enoch conceives of that capacity; 2011b: 70–3).
This is compatible with Sparky possessing desires, because functionalists are paradigmati-
cally happy to ascribe beliefs and desires to animals that lack sophisticated deliberative
capacities of the sort Enoch’s argument appeals to. This point, combined with the intui-
tive conceivability of a creature like Sparky, constitutes a strong case for Sparky’s genuine
possibility.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 119
19
Or, if epistemic permissivism is true, the same range of attitudes is permissible for
each of them to take towards a given proposition. On epistemic permissivism, see White
(2005).
120 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
20
Does this imply that Declan is irrational, given Enoch’s account? No. For delibera-
tive indispensability provides only defeasible justification, and Declan could be in the
presence of relevant defeaters.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 121
21
Bratman (1987: 37–8) has offered counterexamples against the idea that ϕ-ing
intentionally requires belief that one can ϕ. For example, someone recovering from paral-
ysis might intentionally flex her hand behind her back, despite not knowing whether she
is doing so, or indeed whether she is able to do so. If one is compelled by some cases,
one should also allow that such an agent could deliberate about whether to flex her hand
behind her back.
22
We thank David Enoch for helping us to clarify the force of this case.
23
It should be noted that, according to some views, there are cases of a priori justifica-
tion of contingent claims (such as the claim I am here now). We are not convinced there
are such cases. But note that even if there are such cases, the best explanations of their
plausibility do not apply here.
122 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
24
We are indebted to Brad Cokelet for this point.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 123
25
For another example that fits this recipe, see Cuneo’s case for the instrumental
indispensability of having a positive self-image (2012: 1064).
124 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
26
One could of course here try to present an ambitious argument that deliberative
indispensability is a reliable belief-forming method. We think that the prospects for such
an argument are poor, and thus leave this possibility to the side for now, in order to
streamline our main discussion.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 125
27
Another important group of approaches seeks to understand central epistemic cat-
egories like justification in terms of epistemically virtuous and vicious character traits
(e.g., Montmarquet (1993); Zagzebski (1996); Sosa (2007); Greco (2010)). On these
approaches, epistemic virtue tends itself to be understood either in modal or responsibil-
ist terms (or both), leading to a very similar dialectic as in the text. Because of this, we do
not discuss these approaches further here.
28
Compare again the “new evil demon”-style cases.
29
Compare BonJour’s classic case of Norman the clairvoyant (1985: 41ff.).
126 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
30
See Cuneo (2007) for an extended case that many of the core challenges posed to
positing ethical facts carry over to positing epistemic ones.
128 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
31
Notice that some philosophers drawn to the Tempting Idea have appealed to a
similar idea with respect to a range of types of facts, such as facts about the nature of
action, the self, or desire (e.g. Korsgaard (2009); Schapiro (2009)). Suppose that certain
beliefs about some such facts were practically indispensable. Indispensabilism would then
underwrite an inference from that indispensability to epistemic justification. Attempting
to replace Indispensabilism with a “constructivist” rationale, however, requires finding
an independent metaphysical argument that shows that the relevant facts are grounded
in facts about some practical project (e.g., the project of practical deliberation). Such
grounding claims will not be equally plausible for all types of facts. The crucial point
about this alternative to Indispensabilism is that the defensibility of indispensability
arguments for epistemically justified belief in a class of facts will stand or fall with the
plausibility of a “constructivist” metaphysics for that class of facts.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 129
5.6 CONCLUSION
32
It is important to note that Enoch’s strategy is intended as an alternative to two
common replies to this objection. The first is to insist that ethical facts in fact do play a
role in the explanation of scientifically respectable phenomena. The second is that ethi-
cal facts themselves count as respectable explananda (even if not necessarily scientifically
respectable). Enoch (2011b: 53) expresses skepticism about both of these replies.
Deliberative Indispensability and Epistemic Justification 131
Tempting Idea, e.g., by giving up on the idea that the sort of justification
involved is genuinely epistemic justification, or by pursuing an ambitious
constructivism about ethical facts.
To sum up, then, we have argued for three conclusions concerning the
epistemic and metaethical significance of practical indispensability. First, we
should reject Enoch’s indispensabilist case for Robust Realism about ethi-
cal facts. Second, we should reject Indispensabilism in general: deliberative
indispensability does not epistemically justify belief. Third, there are good
reasons to be skeptical of the metaethical significance of deliberative indis-
pensability, as well as practical indispensability more broadly.33
References
Alston, W. 2005. Beyond Justification: Dimensions of Epistemic Evaluation.
Ithaca: Cornell University Press.
Berker, S. 2013. “Epistemic Teleology and the Separateness of Propositions,”
Philosophical Review 122: 337–93.
Björnsson, G. and Olinder, R. F. Forthcoming. “Enoch’s Defense of Robust
Meta-Ethical Realism,” Journal of Moral Philosophy.
BonJour, L. 1985. The Structure of Empirical Knowledge. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press.
Boyd, R. 1997. “How to be a Moral Realist,” in S. Darwall, A. Gibbard, and P.
Railton (eds.), Moral Discourse and Practice. New York: Oxford University Press,
105–36.
Bratman, M. 1987. Intention, Plans, and Practical Reason. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press.
Broome, J. 1999. “Normative Requirements,” Ratio 12: 398–419.
Chisholm, R. M. 1977. Theory of Knowledge: Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall.
Cuneo, T. 2007. The Normative Web: An Argument for Moral Realism. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Cuneo, T. 2012. “Taking Morality Seriously: A Defense of Robust Realism, by David
Enoch,” Mind 121: 1059–64.
33
Thanks to David Enoch and Joshua Schechter for extensive and invaluable discus-
sion. We are also grateful for comments from Selim Berker, David Braddon-Mitchell,
Sarah Buss, Matthew Chrisman, Brad Cokelet, Terence Cuneo, Stephen Darwall, Billy
Dunaway, Kenny Easwaran, Allan Gibbard, Nadeem Hussain, Matt Kotzen, John Ku,
Dustin Locke, Kate Manne, Howard Nye, Peter Railton, Sharon Street, Mike Titelbaum,
Silvan Wittwer, two anonymous referees for Oxford Studies in Metaethics, participants in
Sarah McGrath’s Spring 2014 Metaethics graduate seminar at Princeton, participants at
the 2013 Wisconsin Metaethics Workshop, and participants at David Plunkett’s pres-
entation at the Author Meets Critics session for Taking Morality Seriously at the 2012
Eastern APA.
132 Tristram McPherson and David Plunkett
1
They might think that, as I interpret the RD in what follows, it rests on a false pre-
supposition. The issue raises subtleties that I want to set aside.
2
Constructivists of certain kinds endorse it.
Rationality and Moral Authority 135
3
Kant (1981), Ak 445, 402, 407, respectively, in the pagination of the standard
Prussian Academy edition, as given in the Ellington translation.
4
For my answer to the “Why be Moral?” question, see Copp (2010b).
136 David Copp
we need to question the RD. In section 6.5, I return to the RD and pre-
sent three arguments intended to show at least that one cannot reasonably
invoke the RD in order to adjudicate among moral theories. The RD can-
not play a role in narrowing the field of competing theories. Section 6.6 is a
brief concluding discussion. I do think that morality is normative, but I am
inclined to reject the RD.
To some ways of thinking, the RD will seem obviously true given the nature
of normativity or, on another way of thinking, given the nature of rational-
ity. I will consider these views in turn. The issues here are difficult because
both the concept of normativity and the concept of rationality are disputed
technical concepts in philosophical theorizing. Indeed, it is not entirely
clear that philosophers who use the terms “normativity” and “rationality”
have the same concepts in mind. As Michael Smith has said, “the term
‘rationality’ is almost entirely a philosopher’s term of art” (1997: 91). He
might have said the same of the term “normativity.” I therefore need to
discuss both of these terms and the associated concepts. I need to do this
140 David Copp
in order to clarify the RD and in order, as well, to address the views I men-
tioned, according to which the RD is an obvious truth.
Let me begin with the concept of normativity. To some philosophers,
the RD may seem to be a trivial conceptual or analytic truth, since it may
seem trivial that any “normative” requirement is a requirement of “practical
rationality” and vice versa. On this understanding, it may seem a simple
conceptual truth that whether morality is normative depends on whether
moral requirements are normative, which depends in turn on whether
moral requirements are requirements of practical rationality. Hence, on this
understanding, the RD is trivial. Anyone who shares this understanding of
the relation between normativity and practical rationality should agree that
the RD is true.5
This is not the concept of normativity that I will be working with in this
chapter. Of course, nothing substantive turns on how we choose to use
words, so I have no objection to philosophers who use the term “normativ-
ity” in this way, such that it is trivially analytic that a “normative” require-
ment is a requirement of practical reason. I could let them have the word
“normative” and instead conduct my discussion using the term “authorita-
tive” or I could write about “bindingness.” I will not do this, however. I will
continue to use the term “normative.” But, to avoid misunderstanding, it
is important to understand that, as I am using the terms “normativity” and
“rationality,” the RD is a substantive claim rather than a trivial conceptual
or analytic truth. I believe that Kant, Korsgaard, Gauthier, and Mackie also
take the RD to be a substantive claim. The substantive issue is whether
morality’s being authoritative or binding depends on the existence of a suit-
able relation between morality and rationality.
There are other ways to understand normativity that also trivialize the RD,
although this may be more difficult to see. The dialectical situation is murky
here because different concepts of normativity might be in play. Some phi-
losophers favor a kind of “reasons-fundamentalism” that seeks to reduce nor-
mativity to reasons; a consideration is normative just in case (and because)
it is suitably related to reasons.6 Others favor an “ought-fundamentalism,”
according to which normativity reduces to claims about what ought to be
done or believed or the like. There is also a view that aims to reduce norma-
tivity to motivation or desire. Derek Parfit distinguishes four conceptions of
normativity, but since he is a reasons-fundamentalist, he contends that one
5
I here set aside the fact that, on this understanding, the normativity of morality does
not depend metaphysically on whether moral requirements are requirements of practical
rationality. The dependency is conceptual or perhaps even merely terminological.
6
The term comes from Scanlon (2014).
Rationality and Moral Authority 141
7
I have made my own proposal in Copp (2009).
8
We cannot avoid this move by invoking the idea of a categorical reason or a cat-
egorical ought. For on one understanding, reasons of etiquette and the requirements of
etiquette are categorical, since their status as reasons or requirements does not depend on
factors that can vary from person to person, such as what is desired or valued. For relevant
discussion, see Foot (1978: 161).
9
I am here interpreting these forms of fundamentalism as proposing analyses of the
concept of normativity in terms of the concept of a reason or the concept of an “ought,”
respectively. They could instead be viewed as substantive forms of partial reductionism.
So understood they would claim that normativity is grounded in reasons or “oughts,”
respectively. On both interpretations, they could be described as contending that rea-
sons or “oughts,” respectively, are the most fundamental normative consideration such
that all other normative considerations reduce to them. I thank Hille Paakkunainen for
this point.
142 David Copp
10
An anonymous referee and Hille Paakkunainen both suggested this.
11
I thank an anonymous referee for this suggestion.
144 David Copp
12
Shafer-Landau (2003: 168). Compare Parfit (2011: I, 56).
Rationality and Moral Authority 145
expressing “a kind of praise or approval that we can also express with words
like ‘sensible’ [and] ‘reasonable’ ” (2011: I, 56).13 I will follow these sugges-
tions. I will say that an action is required as a matter of rationality if and
only if it is something that must be done in order for a person to exercise
her agential capacities in a way that is sensible or reasonable or that avoids
irrationality in an ordinary sense. This is not terribly helpful or illuminat-
ing, but it will be adequate for my purposes in this chapter. I will construe
the RD as saying roughly that whether morality is normative depends on
whether one must act morally or at least be morally motivated in order to
exercise one’s agential capacities in a way that is sensible or reasonable or
that avoids irrationality in the ordinary sense.
The plausibility of the RD depends on its being the case that require-
ments of rationality are normative. It would be much less plausible that the
normativity of morality depends on the existence of a suitable link between
morality and rationality if rational requirements were not normative.14
I shall simplify my task in this chapter by simply assuming for the sake of
argument that rational requirements are normative in the philosophically
most important sense.
This assumption is widely shared but it is controversial. On the one hand,
Joyce contends, for example, that practical rationality has a “kind of immu-
nity from legitimate questioning” (2001: 102, 104). He thinks it would be
incoherent to question the normativity of practical reason (2001: 50; but
see Copp 2010a). On the other hand, John Broome can find no grounds
for thinking that rational requirements are normative.15 It seems plausible
to me, however, that if the requirements of rationality are requirements one
must comply with in order to act sensibly or reasonably or to avoid irration-
ality in an ordinary sense, then they are normative, for it seems plausible
that a failure to act in accord with such requirements would be a significant
and worrisome failure. The important point, in any case, is that defenders of
the RD do best to claim that the requirements of rationality are normative.
13
He adds “ ‘intelligent’, and ‘smart’.” Rationality is not, however, a matter of intel-
ligence, so I will set aside these words. I thank Adam Morton for pressing this point.
14
That is, the RD is most plausible as a partially reductionist view. To be sure, it could
instead be proposed as a reductionist theory. In that case, it would claim that although
rational requirements are not normative, still, whether morality is normative depends on
whether morality stands in a grounding relation to rational requirements. I cannot see
what would motivate this proposal. What is it about rational requirements that suits
them to ground the normativity of morality if they are not themselves binding or author-
itative or normative?
15
See Broome (2007: 177–8). Broome is a reasons-fundamentalist. What he means
is that he can find no grounds for thinking that there are always practical reasons to
comply with rational requirements. I thank John Brunero for suggesting that I discuss
Broome’s views.
146 David Copp
To simplify the debate in this chapter, I simply assume that this is correct.
This assumption leaves it open what, if anything, grounds the normativity
of requirements of rationality.
It is important for my purposes that I have introduced the concepts of
normativity and of rationality in such a way that there is an interesting
substantive issue whether the RD is true. As I have explained the concepts,
there is a gap between the concept of a normative requirement and the
concept of a rational requirement. To be sure, I have assumed that rational
requirements are normative, but I have not assumed that all normative
requirements are rational requirements. Rational requirements are norma-
tive requirements with a certain “flavor.” On my proposal, rational require-
ments must be complied with in order to act sensibly or reasonably or to
avoid irrationality in an ordinary sense. But the crucial point is simply that
they have some flavor, that there is the gap I mentioned. Nothing in the
arguments that follow depends on my account of what this flavor is.
16
Nothing in what follows depends on whether we take the putative necessity here to
be conceptual or metaphysical.
Rationality and Moral Authority 147
17
I thank Andrew Alwood for this suggestion.
18
Smith defends a view of this kind (1994: 62). The BLT leaves us free to take no
position on whether a moral requirement entails the existence of a practical reason.
Broome (2007) denies that rational requirements entail the existence of practical reasons.
148 David Copp
the BLT. The BLT is strong enough to answer the why-be-moral question.
It is simpler and relevantly weaker than the RLT. Nevertheless, nothing in
the arguments to follow depends on my choice to use the BLT instead of
the RLT. The arguments would go through (mutatis mutandis) either way.
When the BLT is plugged into the RD, the RD reflects a rationalistic
conception of normativity that I have elsewhere called “authoritative nor-
mativity” (Copp 2007a). It seeks to explain the authority of morality as
grounded in and dependent on the normativity of rationality. It says more
specifically that the normativity of morality is grounded in the link between
morality and rationality that is postulated by the BLT.
The central issue in this chapter is of course whether the RD is true and
whether it can reasonably be used to narrow the field of contending moral
theories. But there is reason to pause here to consider the defensibility of the
BLT. As I have formulated it, the RD says that whether morality is norma-
tive depends on whether the BLT is true. I believe, however, that the BLT
is false. If it is indeed false, then if morality is normative, it follows that the
RD is false. For this reason it is important to pause here to consider objec-
tions to the BLT and to consider arguments in its favor. I think there is
reason at least to doubt that the BLT is true.
The literature contains several arguments for the BLT, a few of which
I have addressed in other places (Copp 2007a, 2010a, 2010b). I cannot
hope to discuss the arguments here. Instead, I will mention two ideas that
might motivate the BLT and I will look briefly at an important strategy that
might be used to support it.
One obvious motivation for the BLT is the belief that the RD is true.
For if the RD is true, then the normativity of morality depends on whether
the BLT is true. If the RD is true, the BLT had better be true. We can
construct on this basis an argument for the BLT that takes as its premises,
first, the proposition that morality is normative, and second, the proposi-
tion that the normativity of morality depends on whether there is a rational
requirement to be morally motivated. The second premise is the RD. The
argument proceeds from the RD and the claim that morality is normative
to the BLT. The trouble, of course, is that the argument is question-begging
in this context. In a context in which there is controversy among different
competing accounts of the normativity of morality, it is question-begging
to assume the RD is true.
Rationality and Moral Authority 149
19
Copp (2009) argues to the contrary and in favor of normative pluralism.
150 David Copp
this is that the normativity of morality depends on the truth of the BLT, as
the RD claims, or whether it is simply that the BLT is true. The truth of the
BLT would imply that an adequate non-skeptical moral theory must entail
or be compatible with the BLT even if the RD were false. So the truth of
the BLT would remove the main motivation for worrying about the RD.
I am unconvinced by arguments in favor of the BLT partly because
I think there are good reasons to doubt it is true. In the rest of this section,
I present two objections.
My first objection to the BLT is that it implies that what we are mor-
ally required to do depends on issues about the nature of rationality, issues
that might be arcane and that, in any case, seem beside the point. I find
it counter-intuitive, for example, to suppose that whether we are morally
required not to torture people depends on whether it is necessarily a require-
ment of rationality that we be averse to torturing people. The requirement
not to torture rests on facts about what torture does to its victims not on
whether causing such effects on victims is rationally permitted. It rests on
the horror of being subjected to merciless pain and the terror of being faced
with the prospect of imminently losing one’s life, not on abstract issues
about rationality. Nor, intuitively, does it rest on issues about the nature of
practical reasons.
There is a response to this worry. If the BLT is true, it follows that we are
rationally required to be morally motivated. One might take this to mean
that the BLT constrains the content of moral requirements such that they
must fit some independent account of the nature of rationality. My objec-
tion to the BLT was that it is counter-intuitive that what we are morally
required to do depends in this way on the nature of rationality. Defenders
of the BLT might, however, take a different view, as Korsgaard and Smith
have noted (Korsgaard 2009: 47; Smith 2010: 136–7). For suppose we have
an independent account of what morality requires. One might then view
the BLT as constraining the content of rational requirements such that they
must fit this account of morality. For example, if torture is morally pro-
hibited, it follows from the BLT that there is a rational requirement to be
motivated not to torture. On this approach, Smith points out, ordinary
moral reflection can “provide us with insight into the nature of rationality”
(2010: 136). “Moral theorizing and theorizing about the nature of rational-
ity are one and the same” (137).
This response does not avoid the charge of counter-intuitiveness. For
notice that the BLT entails only that if there are any moral requirements
then there is a rational requirement to be morally motivated. Hence, if
the BLT is true, the nature of rationality might preclude the existence
of any moral requirements. The BLT entails that whether there are any
moral requirements at all turns on issues about the nature of rationality.
Rationality and Moral Authority 151
she is not being irrational in the example as I set it out, she must be moti-
vated at least to some degree to apologize. Hence, if Alice is not irrational
in the example, she also does not lack moral motivation. On this response,
whether Alice is morally obligated to apologize turns on an issue about
moral motivation. For if we assume that the BLT is true and that Alice is
not being irrational, then whether Alice is morally obligated to apologize
depends on whether she is motivated at least to some degree to apologize.
But as I set up the example, I stipulated that Alice is not at all motivated
to apologize. This stipulation forces the defender of the BLT to insist that
either Alice is not morally required to apologize or that she is irrational.
Both of these options are counter-intuitive. Intuitively, although Alice
exhibits a moral fault in lacking any motivation to apologize, she is being
sensible and reasonable and she is not irrational in any ordinary sense.
I conclude, then, that the BLT is counter-intuitive on two grounds. First,
it implies that what we are morally required to do (if anything) depends on
the requirements of practical rationality, which means that it depends on
arcane issues in the theory of practical reason. Second, as illustrated by the
example of Alice’s Pride, a lack of moral motivation need not intuitively be
irrational or senseless or unreasonable. So a failure to be morally motivated
does not invariably seem to be a violation of any requirement of practical
rationality. Although of course these objections are not decisive, they lead
me to doubt the BLT.
I am convinced that a defense of the BLT is hopeless, and I am also con-
vinced that morality is normative. For this reason, I believe that the RD is
false. Of course, to those who find the RD attractive, it will seem important
to develop arguments for the BLT. For, given the RD, a defense of the BLT
or of some similar linkage thesis will seem to be required in order to defend
the normativity of morality. My goal, then, is to undermine the RD. In
the rest of this chapter, however, I pursue the limited goal of arguing that,
in a context in which there is controversy about the plausibility of various
accounts of the normativity of morality, one cannot reasonably invoke the
RD in order to adjudicate among the contenders.
20
I proposed such an account in Copp (2007b).
21
An anonymous referee and Hille Paakkunainen both seemed to offer this objection.
156 David Copp
22
I thank an anonymous referee and Hille Paakkunainen for pressing me to clarify
this point.
158 David Copp
References
Broome, J. 2007. “Is Rationality Normative?” Disputatio 2: 161–78.
Copp, D. 2007a. “Moral Naturalism and Three Grades of Normativity,” in Copp,
Morality in a Natural World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 249–83.
Copp, D. 2007b. “The Normativity of Self-Grounded Reason,” in Copp, Morality
in a Natural World, 309–53.
Copp, D. 2009. “Toward a Pluralist and Teleological Theory of Normativity,”
Philosophical Issues 19: 21–37.
Copp, D. 2010a. “Normativity, Deliberation, and Queerness,” in R. Joyce and
S. Kirchin (eds.), A World Without Values: Essays on John Mackie’s Error Theory.
Berlin: Springer, 141–65.
Copp, D. 2010b. “The Wrong Answer to an Improper Question?” in S. Black and
E. Tiffany (eds.), Reasons to be Moral Revisited, Canadian Journal of Philosophy,
Supplementary Volume 33: 97–130.
Copp, D. 2012. “Normativity and Reasons: Five Arguments from Parfit
Against Normative Naturalism,” in S. Nuccetelli and G. Seay (eds.), Ethical
Naturalism: Current Debates. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 24–57.
Dreier, J. 2015. “Can Reasons Fundamentalism Answer the Normative Question?”
in G. Björnsson, C. Strandberg, R. F. Olinder, J. Eriksson, and F. Björklund
(eds.), Motivational Internalism. New York: Oxford University Press.
Foot, P. 1978. “Morality as a System of Hypothetical Imperatives,” in Foot, Virtues
and Vices. Berkeley: University of California Press, 157–74.
Gauthier, D. 1986. Morals by Agreement. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Joyce, R. 2001. The Myth of Morality. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
23
I presented versions of this essay to the Central Division of the American
Philosophical Association in Chicago in February 2012 and to the Departments of
Philosophy at the University of British Columbia in October 2012 and at Washington
University in Saint Louis in March 2013. I also presented a version of the essay to the
BAFFLE discussion group, at the School of Law, University of California, Berkeley, in
April 2013 and to the Madison Metaethics Workshop in September 2013. I am very
grateful to those who contributed to the discussions on these occasions for their help-
ful comments. I am especially grateful to Andrew Alwood, Matt Bedke, Eric Brown,
John Brunero, Meir Dan-Cohen, Christian Coons, Dale Dorsey, Elizabeth Harman,
Jonathan Ichikawa, Carrie Jenkins, Nico Kolodny, Charlie Kurth, Adam Morton, Hille
Paakkunainen, Eric Rakowski, Paul Russell, Roy Sorensen, Kevin Toh, R. J. Wallace, Eric
Wiland, and two anonymous referees.
Rationality and Moral Authority 159
Kant, I. 1981 [1785]. Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals, trans. J. W. Ellington.
Indianapolis: Hackett.
Korsgaard, C. 1996. The Sources of Normativity. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Korsgaard, C. 2009. Self-Constitution: Agency, Identity, and Integrity. Oxford: Oxford
University Press.
Mackie, J. L. 1977. Morality: Inventing Right and Wrong. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
Parfit, D. 2011. On What Matters. Volumes I and II. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Rosen, G. 2010. “Metaphysical Dependence: Grounding and Reduction,” in
B. Hale and A. Hoffman (eds.), Modality: Metaphysics, Logic, and Epistemology.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 109–35.
Scanlon, T. M. 2014. Being Realistic About Reasons. Oxford: Oxford University
Press.
Shafer-Landau, R. 2003. Moral Realism: A Defence. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Smith, M. 1994. The Moral Problem. Oxford: Blackwell.
Smith, M. 1997. “In Defense of The Moral Problem,” Ethics 108: 84–119.
Smith, M. 2010. “Beyond the Error Theory,” in R. Joyce and S. Kirchin (eds.),
A World Without Values: Essays on John Mackie’s Error Theory. Berlin: Springer,
119–39.
7
Disagreement, Correctness, and
the Evidence for Metaethical Absolutism
Gunnar Björnsson
1
For discussion, see Björnsson (2013).
2
For arguments of this form, see e.g., Brink (1989: ch. 2); Huemer (2005: chs.
2–3); Lyons (1976: 19–20); McNaughton (1988: 39–41); Sayre-McCord (2006: 42);
Shafer-Landau (2003: chs. 2–3); Smith (1994); Streiffer (2003: ch. 1).
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 161
3
See e.g., Björnsson and McPherson (2014); Blackburn (1984, 1991b, 1993a);
Gibbard (2003); Hare (1970); Stevenson (1944); Tersman (2006).
4
See e.g., Björnsson and Finlay (2010); Finlay (2014: ch. 8); Plunkett and Sundell
(2013).
162 Gunnar Björnsson
what one is aiming at—what one tries to get right—merely in virtue of judg-
ing whether X is F.5 (Notice that internal success conditions are properties of
judgments, not of assertions.) To say that absolutism holds for F, then, is to
say that any two judges who are judging in good faith whether some X is F are
trying to get the same things right, or, equivalently, that their judgments have
the same (non-relative) internal success conditions. If one of them judges that
X is F and the other that X is not F, then if one is successful, the other is not;
if both make the same judgment, then they are equally (un)successful.6
Admittedly, talk about what judges are “trying to get right” when judg-
ing whether X is F or about the “internal success conditions” of their judg-
ments might seem to be nothing but a roundabout way of talking about the
truth-conditions of judgments whether something is F. That is not quite
right, however, and it will be important later that the two come apart on
occasion. There are cases in which we have reasonably clear ideas about
what judges are trying to get right, and whether they are trying to get the
same thing right, well before we decide between quite different accounts of
the semantics of the concept in question. There are also cases where we can
agree that someone’s judgment has been internally successful but where it
seems inappropriate for us to say that their judgment was true.
For illustration, consider an example involving judgments of personal
taste. Gus and Tibus both want something to enjoy on their way home from
work. Each is looking at the vending machine, trying to determine whether
there is something tasty on offer. In doing so, each is trying to get something
right, but if they have different palates, they are presumably trying to get
different things right. Each, it seems reasonable to say, is trying to determine
whether there is anything on offer that satisfies his palate (perhaps under
suitably normal conditions). (Each, like most of us, knows perfectly well that
others have other gustatory preferences, but neither would think that this is
relevant for the judgment he is making.) Because of this, it might be that if
Gus and Tibus both conclude that there is something tasty in the vending
machine, only one of them would be successful in his endeavor.7 Given this,
5
In judging whether X is F (whether Belgium has a king, say), I might of course have
a variety of goals other than getting the judgment right (to test my memory, to save face,
etc.), but those are not goals I have merely in virtue of making the judgment.
6
Here and throughout I set to the side obvious cases of vagueness and putative coun-
terexamples to the law of non-contradiction.
7
It should be noted that judgments of taste sometimes have more interpersonal or
idealizing pretensions, being concerned with whether something accords with the taste
of most people, or with suitably refined palates (cf. Doerfler (2012); Egan (2010); Loeb
(2003)). This, however, does not mean that all judgments of taste have such interpersonal
or idealizing ambitions (cf. Goodwin and Darley (2008)). In fact, I believe that the most
common kind of attribution of tastiness in particular lacks these ambitions, and this is
the kind that concerns us here.
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 163
we know enough to conclude that absolutism doesn’t hold for the kind of
tastiness concept exemplified by Gus’s and Tibus’s judgments.8 However, we
are far from determining the semantics of tastiness claims, i.e., of declarative
expressions of tastiness judgments. Perhaps such claims are best analyzed
along contextualist lines: a tastiness claim asserts the proposition that some
relevant subject(s)—typically the speaker—is disposed to have positive gus-
tatory experiences from the item in question.9 Or perhaps an expressivist
analysis is preferable: tastiness claims express but do not ascribe such a dis-
position.10 Or perhaps the proposition asserted or its truth-value depends on
the dispositions of those who assess the claim semantically, not on those of
the speaker.11 By focusing on what judges are trying to get right in making
their judgments instead of on the semantics of characteristic expressions of
such judgments, we can avoid getting involved in differences between such
analyses until they become relevant for our purposes.
The case of tastiness judgments also illustrates the possibility of attrib-
uting internal success to judgments without thinking that they are true.
Suppose that after looking at a particular item in the vending machine,
Gus exclaims, “Ah, there’s something tasty!” If the item in question is one
that we find disgusting, we will be reluctant to say that Gus was right, or
that he had said something true. But his judgment would clearly have been
internally successful if the machine contained something that would satisfy
Gus’s palate.
absolutism, then, is not understood in terms of truth, or propositions
expressed, but in terms of the satisfaction conditions of concepts, which in
turn are understood in terms of the judgment-internal success of the rele-
vant kinds of judgments, and the concepts involved. Metaethical absolutism
is absolutism about moral judgments and concepts. More specifically, I will
take it to be absolutism about concepts that are central to moral thinking
8
By contrast, absolutism might well hold for explicitly relativized tastiness judg-
ments: if Gus and Tibus were both judging whether the machine contains something
tasty for Gus, they would likely be trying to get the same thing right. In saying this,
I distinguish the concept at play when Gus and Tibus are judging whether the machine
contains something tasty from the concept at play when they are judging whether it con-
tains something that is tasty for Gus. I think of a concept expressed by a predicate F as a
kind of mechanism the operation of which constitutes the agent’s activity of judging
whether something is F. Since the two italicized characterizations of judgments in the
previous sentence pick out two extensionally different kinds of judgments, they also pick
out two different kinds of concepts. This is not to deny that the concepts are closely
related—for all I have said, they might be simultaneously at play when Gus is judging
whether something is tasty. I thank Ben Lennertz and an anonymous referee for pressing
me on this point.
9
See e.g., Glanzberg (2007); Schaffer (2011); Sundell (2011).
10
See Buekens (2011), who combines contextualist and expressivist elements.
11
See e.g., Egan (2010); Lasersohn (2005); Pearson (2013); Stephenson (2007).
164 Gunnar Björnsson
12
Just as non-absolutism about tastiness is compatible with a variety of analyses of
“tasty,” metaethical absolutism, as it is understood here, is itself compatible with different
semantic views: Kantian prescriptivism, non-naturalistic as well as naturalistic realism,
what Sharon Street (2006) calls “rigidifying antirealism,” and ideal observer or advisor
theories. It is incompatible with various forms of relativism as well as with at least some
versions of non-cognitivism. For example, Gibbard’s (2003) view seems perfectly com-
patible with the assumption that when different people are deciding whether to plan
to φ in C (i.e., judging whether φ-ing is the thing to do in C), what standards for such
planning they are ultimately trying to conform to might be quite different. However,
absolutism is compatible with a contextual semantics for evaluative and normative expres-
sions such as “good” and “ought.” Even if such terms pick out different ends or norms
in different contexts, it might be that they pick out the same ends or norms when used
in moral contexts: moral value and the moral law, say. Finally, as it stands, the definition
allows for error-theoretic versions of absolutism, according to which no positive moral
judgments are ever internally successful.
13
Again, I set to the side complications due to obvious cases of vagueness and putative
counterexamples to the law of non-contradiction.
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 165
14
Cf. n. 13.
15
For simplicity, I’ll ignore cases where X itself involves A. The blocking of essential
dependence allows that contingent effects of A’s thinking might affect X’s F-ness. (For
example, that A thinks that it would be morally wrong to treat B in a certain way might
make it wrong to treat B in that way under certain circumstances.)
16
The notion is thus somewhat narrower than that employed by Sundell
(2011: 275–6), from which I borrow the two examples.
166 Gunnar Björnsson
to the left while B denies that it is to the left, but that A and B express
directional judgments made from different spatial perspectives.17 Then
we can well agree with and deem true or correct (or disagree with and
deem wrong, false or incorrect) what both said. Furthermore, this would
be true even if A and B were all-knowing and perfectly rational creatures,
and any disagreement about whether the cathedral is to the left might be
fully resolved by determining whether it is to the left relative to a certain
perspective.
Insofar as it satisfies unity, then, moral discourse and thinking very
much looks like an absolutist domain, and looks unlike the clearest cases
of non-absolutist domains. Moreover, if the moral domain behaves in ways
characteristic of absolutist domains, it might seem reasonable to assume
that it is an absolutist domain, unless we have positive reasons to the con-
trary. (If it quacks, walks, and looks like an absolutist domain, our default
assumption should be that it is one.)
This argument can be strengthened by the following considera-
tion: unity not only seems to represent an ordinary understanding of
absolutist discourse, but an understanding that would seem perfectly
adequate given absolutism. If we are indeed concerned to get the same
things right, it makes sense to let agreement, disagreement, and assess-
ments of correctness follow these patterns. If we are not concerned to get
the same thing right, the rationale for these features of the practice seems
much less clear.
Metaethical absolutism might seem to be jointly supported, then, by
its promise to make straightforward sense of unity and by the fact that
we characteristically recognize its full package in paradigmatically abso-
lutist domains of discourse and judgment, but never in paradigmatically
non-absolutist domains. Conversely, forms of non-absolutism seem to be
undermined. Or so people have thought.18
There are of course various ways in which one might resist the argument
from unity. One is to deny that moral discourse and thinking display
unity. Empirical evidence suggests that not everyone always under-
stands moral discourse to satisfy all aspects of unity. However, patterns
of understanding characteristic of paradigmatically absolute domains
seem predominant (especially within cultures) for what most people take
to be serious and uncontroversially moral wrongdoing, and considerably
17
In this case, absolutism fails for A’s and B’s judging whether the cathedral is to the
left when we individuate kinds of judgments and corresponding concepts in a way that
ignores differences in perspective. absolutism might well hold for judgments whether the
cathedral is to the left from A’s perspective. Cf. n. 8.
18
For references, see n. 2.
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 167
19
See e.g., Goodwin and Darley (2008); Wright et al. (2012); Sarkissian et al. (2011).
20
See Wright et al. (2014).
21
See Björnsson (2012).
22
Most metaethicists these days reject strong motivational internalism (see Björklund
et al. (2012)). For discussion of problems with accounts of disagreement in terms of
clashing attitudes of the sort proposed by Stevenson’s (1944, 1963), see e.g., Gibbard
(2003: ch. 4); Dreier (2009), and Ridge (2013).
23
Simon Blackburn (1991a, 1991b), in a debate with Nicholas Sturgeon (1991),
argues that the best “projectivist” account of sameness of meaning is the mere application
of a more general account, covering ordinary descriptive discourse. Michael Ridge (2013)
puts forth an account of disagreement that is meant to be general and avoid problems
with Stevenson’s and Gibbard’s proposals. (I think that Ridge’s account is on the right
track, but argue elsewhere that it runs into problems with disagreements about taste, and
fails to capture what is ultimately driving intuitions about disagreement; cf. Björnsson
(n.d.).) The account of unity developed here could be seen as an effort to lay the ground
for a more complete and independently compelling picture in the spirit of these earlier
proposals.
168 Gunnar Björnsson
We have already noted that elements of unity are violated by claims about
whether something is to the left, and the same is true about claims employ-
ing a variety of context-dependent locutions, including “local,” “ready,” and
“tall.” But judgments expressed by other paradigmatically non-absolutist
locutions—in particular epistemic modals and various predicates of personal
taste—seem to satisfy several aspects of unity even on occasions where judges
are trying to get different things right. Understanding why these judgments
display such patterns will tell us what to expect in the case of moral judgments.
In this section, we will consider one example each of two classes of
predicates: predicates of personal taste, and epistemic modals. Throughout,
I will appeal to phenomena that have been adduced in support of
assessor-relativism in these areas, but as before I will remain neutral as to
whether relativistic analyses of these phenomena are preferable to contextu-
alist or expressivist analyses.
7.3.1 Tastiness
Start with predicates of personal taste, exemplified by tasty. Suppose that our
friends Gus and Tibus have each decided to determine whether Marmite is
as tasty as some say, or as vile as others claim. Each has a taste, and each
expresses his judgment, in soliloquy:
Gus: “That’s surprising. Marmite’s tasty.”
Tibus: “What a disappointment. Marmite’s not at all tasty.”
We have already said that absolutism is violated for tastiness judgments.
When Gus judges that Marmite is tasty, he doesn’t take the reactions
and judgments of others to matter for his verdict: the ultimate arbiter is
whether Marmite would give him a pleasant gustatory experience (perhaps
under normal circumstances). Likewise, mutatis mutandis, for Tibus.24
Assuming, as before, that we are concerned with expressions of personal taste (cf. n. 7).
24
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 169
Nevertheless, it seems that Gus and Tibus disagree, and more generally
that if someone agrees with one of the two tastiness claims, he thereby
disagrees with the other. So disagreement seems to be satisfied for tasti-
ness claims, even when judges are concerned to get different things right
when making the judgments expressed.25 Relatedly, it seems a little prob-
lematic to think that both Gus’s and Tibus’s claims are true, as that might
seem to involve agreeing with both their claims. On the other hand, many
would be hesitant to think that Gus’s (or Tibus’s) claim was incorrect or
false merely on account of disagreeing with him about the tastiness of
Marmite. So correctness has at most a limited appeal. Similarly, inde-
pendence is problematic. Many of us would find it misplaced of Tibus
to deem Gus’s claim incorrect or false without taking into account Gus’s
taste disposition. Likewise, finally, for no relativization: once we have
determined for whom Marmite is and is not tasty (and under what cir-
cumstances), there seems to be nothing left of the question of whether it
is tasty.26
Notice, though, that attributions of correctness and incorrectness seem
unproblematic when all involved are assumed to have similar taste reactions
to the item in question. If Gus and Tibus knew that they have the same taste
and Tibus claimed that Marmite isn’t tasty while misremembering the taste
of Marmite, Gus could naturally say, “You’re wrong, it really is quite tasty,”
and if Tibus had claimed that Marmite is tasty, Gus could have naturally
replied “That’s true, it really is.” In such contexts, tastiness judgments might
seem to satisfy correctness.
Although the example of tastiness discourse shows that disagreement
is not unique to absolutist domains, it fails to satisfy the other aspects of
unity, except to a limited extent within contexts where an overlap of taste
dispositions is assumed. In itself, then, the case of tastiness might seem to
strengthen the argument from unity: we (or at least many of those involved
in engaged moral disagreement) understand moral discourse along the lines
of absolutist discourse, not along the lines of this clearly non-absolutist
domain.
25
This is of course part of what has motivated various relativist theories about taste
judgments (see e.g., Egan (2010); Kölbel (2004); Lasersohn (2005); Pearson (2013);
Stephenson (2007)).
26
In effect, Robin McKenna (2014) relies on this mismatch between disagree-
ment and correctness in the case of taste judgments to raise a problem for my
earlier treatment of disagreement in Björnsson and Finlay (2010). The account of
attributions of disagreement and attributions of correctness and incorrectness (truth
and falsehood) provided in sections 7.4 and 7.5 promises a principled explanation of
this mismatch.
170 Gunnar Björnsson
7.3.2 Likelihood
Another family of non-absolutist predicates displaying aspects of unity
are epistemic modals, expressed in English by locutions such as “likely,”
“improbable,” “might,” “possible,” “can,” and “must.” Here we will focus on
likelihood judgments. Suppose that Basil needs to get hold of his cat Felix
to bring him to the veterinarian. Basil muses:
“Felix does sometimes wander off to the stream to fish, but his favorite
pastime is chasing birds, and most birds are at the apple orchard today.
So he is likely to be in the orchard.”
What Basil tried to get right in drawing his conclusion was a relation
between evidence available to him before the beginning of his search and
the various places where Felix might be: his question concerns where Felix
is likely to be given that evidence. He knows that someone might have bet-
ter evidence—quite a few people are out and about and might have seen
Felix—but this doesn’t affect what he is trying to get right, as he has no fea-
sible way of accessing that evidence.27 As it happens, Claudia is one of the
people who had seen Felix, as he was heading in the opposite direction of
the apple orchard a few minutes ago, towards the stream where she knows
that he occasionally goes to fish. When Claudia asks herself where Felix
might be, she concludes:
Like Basil, Claudia knows that someone might have better evidence regard-
ing Felix’s whereabouts but lacks any feasible way of getting access to that
evidence. Her judgmental efforts, it seems, are successful if Felix is unlikely
to be in the orchard given evidence available to her. Since the evidence avail-
able to Basil and Claudia differs, absolutism doesn’t hold for their likeli-
hood judgments.
At the same time, it seems that disagreement is satisfied: intuitively, if
we were to agree with or accept Basil’s claim that Felix is likely to be in the
orchard, we would disagree with and have to reject Claudia’s claim that he
is unlikely to be in the orchard. Moreover, correctness might seem to be
satisfied in at least some contexts where absolutism is violated. Consider
the following exchange:
27
In describing this scenario, I am not denying that we sometimes make likelihood
judgments with more interpersonal or objective pretensions, just that this is what is going
on here. Cf. n. 26.
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 171
finding felix:
Alicia: “I need to find Felix. I wonder where he might be.”
Basil: “The birds are in the orchard today. He is likely to be there.”
Claudia: “I think that’s wrong, Alicia. I saw Felix head in the other direction
earlier. He is more likely to be by the stream.”
Claudia’s assessment of Basil’s initial claim seems natural enough. Claudia
thinks that Felix is unlikely to be in the orchard, and this seems to not only
force her to reject Basil’s claim, but also to negatively assess its correctness.
Moreover, correctness does not seem to presuppose absolutism: it seems
natural to assume that Claudia’s assessment was based on evidence that Basil
was not concerned to relate to when making his judgment, evidence avail-
able only to her.28
Similarly, I would expect parties of finding felix to take the other aspects
of unity to be satisfied. independence will seem to be satisfied, as Claudia’s
and Alicia’s assessments of the correctness of Basil’s judgment will take into
account any available evidence concerning Felix’s whereabouts, without
restriction to what information Basil had. Likewise for no relativization: If
Basil and Claudia agreed that Felix is likely to be in the orchard given Basil’s
evidence and unlikely to be there given Claudia’s, they would not thereby
have agreed about whether Felix is likely to be in the orchard or not.
It seems, then, that at least from the point of view of participants, some
cases of non-absolutist discourse can display all four aspects of unity. But
the picture is complicated, as not all the aspects hold universally, or from all
points of view. Consider:
hindsight:
Having talked to Basil, Claudia, and some kids, you now know the
following: (1) At nine o’clock this morning, Basil concluded, based on
long experience and knowledge about the whereabouts of the birds,
that Felix was likely to be in the orchard. (2) Independently, and at
about the same time, Claudia concluded that Felix was unlikely to
be in the orchard, as she had seen him take off in the opposite direc-
tion, towards the stream, earlier that morning. (3) As a matter of fact,
28
It might be argued that this assumption should be abandoned, and that the best expla-
nation of why correctness seems to hold in this context is that we take Basil to express
a “communal” judgment, concerned with what is likely given the information available to
either of the parties of the conversation. If he were, then absolutism would hold for Basil
and Claudia’s judgments. The analogous argument has been made by Janice Dowell (2011)
for the case of epistemic “might.” I defend the naturalness and correctness of the solipsistic
interpretation against Dowell’s argument at some length in Björnsson and Almér (2010);
Montminy (2012) independently replies along partly similar lines (also cf. Swanson (2011)).
172 Gunnar Björnsson
29
Von Fintel and Gillies (2008) appeal to retrospective cases like this to undermine
evidence for assessor-relativism of the sort defended by Egan (2007), MacFarlane (2011),
and Stephenson (2007). Some of the other cases they appeal to transpose to the case of
“likely.”
30
In eliciting intuitions about cases like these, it is important to be aware of various
sources of error. One is that attributions of correctness might target the formation of a
judgment rather than the judgment formed. Another is that people might take beliefs
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 173
7.4 UNDERSTANDING disagreement
that happen to be false to be less justified (Young et al. (2010)), which can lead them to
think that the judge (Basil, say) had not adequately taken into account available informa-
tion. Yet another is that people who know whether p is the case will fail to assess the claim
that p is likely, instead assessing the claim that p, as this is an epistemically more relevant
target of assessment (cf. Almér and Björnsson (2009); Björnsson and Almér (2010)).
Still, new evidence strongly suggests that hindsight judgments follow the patterns postu-
lated here (Knobe and Yalcin (forthcoming)).
174 Gunnar Björnsson
31
See e.g., Millikan (1984); Stevenson (1944). Following Millikan (1998), I take
speech acts to be usefully categorized based on their conventional communicative func-
tion, and traditional speech act categories to closely track such functions.
Notice that the conventional communicative function of an utterance can be rela-
tional and context-dependent. For example, it is presumably a conventional function of
an utterance in the declarative (“The cathedral is to the right”) to produce or make occur-
rent a judgment the content of which depends on the words constituting the sentence as
well as context needed to fix the content of context-dependent expressions.
32
The notion of communicative function is closely related to the notion of an expres-
sion’s context change potential in dynamic semantics, and to the resultant of the force and
content of a speech act (see e.g., Stalnaker (1999)). Likewise, the notion of acceptance of a
claim employed to be introduced is closely related to the notion of acceptance employed
by Stalnaker (see e.g., (2002)). However, the use to which it is put here does not presup-
pose the adoption of that semantic framework: for all I say here, the meaning of sentences
might be analyzed in some other way.
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 175
33
Relatedly, Millikan’s (1984) argues that the “stabilizing proper function” of the
indicative mood is to produce true belief in hearers: true belief because this is what both
speakers and hearers tend to have an interest in such that this reinforces speaker and
hearer dispositions. This explanation is correct and important, but for the explanations
of acceptance, rejection, agreement, and disagreement developed here, we can bracket the
truth-value of the judgment.
34
I am assuming here that the judgment that not-P and the judgment that P are each
other’s contraries. (Dialetheists will need a somewhat different account than that offered
here; I set that complication to the side.)
One might of course resist accepting an utterance without thereby rejecting it,
namely by withholding judgment or more generally being undecided. The sort of rejec-
tion in judgment that we are concerned with here also contrasts with a metaconceptual
or metalinguistic refusal to employ a certain term or concept (because of its despicable
connotations, say). I thank Guy Fletcher for raising this complication. Another compli-
cation, raised by Michael Ridge, comes from contents that are in certain ways peripheral
to a claim, such as the implications of “even” in “Even Granny had some wine,” or par-
entheticals like that in “Lance Armstrong, who was born in Copenhagen, won the Tour
de France seven times.” To produce or make occurrent acceptance in judgment of these
contents seem to be part of the communicative function of the claims, but contrary to
accept/reject one might think it possible to reject these contents without rejecting the
claims. I lack space here for a full discussion, but I am inclined to deny that possibility:
we do reject a claim if we reject some of its peripheral contents. The reason one might
nevertheless feel that one “accepts the claim” is simply that these contents are less central
to communicative concerns: one can accept the central parts.
35
Understanding disagreement in judgment in terms of disagreement between claims
might seem roundabout, but I argue elsewhere that this idea explains why agreement and
acceptance can come apart in the case of tastiness judgments (Björnsson (n.d.)).
176 Gunnar Björnsson
Consider how this applies to the case of most ordinary, non-relative, descrip-
tive claims. The characteristic communicative function of such claims, we can
assume, is to inform (or remind) hearers about a certain aspect of objective
reality. Here, the judgment that satisfies the characteristic communicative
function of the claim is simply the judgment that this aspect obtains. To accept
the claim is thus to make such a judgment, and to reject the claim is to make
the contrary judgment. Given this, agree/disagree yields disagreement for
discourse involving ordinary, non-relative, descriptive claims. If A said that X
is F and B said X is not F, and F is a non-relative descriptive predicate, then
accepting one claim means rejecting the other.36 Correspondingly, agreeing
with A’s (B’s) claim means making the judgment characteristically expressed by
saying that X is (not) F, and thus to disagree with B’s (A’s).
If this account of disagreement in paradigmatically absolutist discourse
is correct, the reason that claims expressing tastiness and likelihood judgments
follow the pattern of disagreement should be that their communicative func-
tions are relevantly similar to those of ordinary descriptive statements. So what
are those communicative functions?
Start with tastiness claims. Their characteristic function, I suggest, is to
create (or make occurrent) tastiness beliefs in hearers and corresponding
expectations of what hearers will find tasty or not, thus providing gustatory
guidance.37 It is clear that we routinely do form tastiness beliefs on the basis of
tastiness claims, and clear that speakers adjust their utterances in light of this
effect, making explicitly subjective claims (“I think that this is really tasty”)
when they have specific reasons to suspect that the audience does not share
their taste preferences and will be misled if accepting a bare tastiness claim.38
Moreover, it makes good sense that expressions of tastiness judgments would
have this function. True, differences in taste are common enough for us to only
sometimes be in a position to confidently judge that all our hearers will share
36
Ignoring, as before, complications related to vagueness and dialetheism.
37
More generally, tastiness claims function to express the speaker’s taste judgments,
which can be done to guide taste expectations, but at other times merely to convey one’s
food preferences (as when small children express their taste judgments to parents), or
perhaps to compliment the chef. However, as I have argued elsewhere (Björnsson and
Almér (2010: 23–6)), this general expressive function provides an appropriate target for
assessments and potential acceptance or rejection only rarely, as speakers tend to have
epistemic authority concerning their taste dispositions, leaving hearers without inde-
pendent grounds for accepting or not accepting that speakers have the taste dispositions
in question. For this reason, intuitions of agreement (and correctness) will typically fol-
low the guiding function.
38
In saying that we withhold claims of the form “X is tasty” when we think that
others have different taste preferences, I am not saying that we also withhold our cor-
responding judgments. (For two different explanations of why explicitly relativized
or first-personal taste judgments make for a different communicative function, see
Björnsson (2001: 101–3); Björnsson and Almér (2010: 26–7).)
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 177
our taste reaction to a particular item. But there is enough overlap for expres-
sions of subjective judgments to serve as reasonably reliable guides for others
who have not yet tasted the item.39
Given this communicative function of tastiness claims, the response
required for its fulfillment is that hearers expect to have the corresponding
taste experience from the item in question. Given accept/reject, to accept
the positive claim that X is tasty or reject the negative claim that X is not
tasty is thus to expect to have a positive taste experience from X; to accept
the claim that X is not tasty or reject the claim that it is tasty is to expect
not to have a positive experience from X. Given that accepting one of these
claims means rejecting the other and given agree/disagree, disagreement
follows for tastiness claims.40
A similar story is available for likelihood judgments and likelihood claims.
The core role of likelihood judgments is presumably to set our subjective
probabilities for various possibilities—high for possibilities we judge likely;
low for those we judge not likely—thus affecting the amount of cognitive,
emotional, and physical work that we invest in these possibilities. The sug-
gestion now is that the characteristic communicative function of likelihood
claims (i.e., declarative expressions of likelihood judgments) is to produce
the corresponding likelihood judgments in hearers, i.e., likelihood judg-
ments that would typically set (roughly) the same subjective probabilities.
A practice with claims performing this function makes good sense when
speakers often enough have better information about the matter at hand
and have thought more about the issue than have hearers. Unless speak-
ers have weighed the evidence erroneously, or hearers have relevant evi-
dence that speakers have not taken into account, hearers can improve their
epistemic situation by adopting the corresponding subjective probabilities,
now based on evidence that includes the speaker’s claim.41 Moreover, this
39
This accounts for the major difference between the tastiness case and ordinary descrip-
tive discourse: the mismatch between the judgment expressed and communicative purpose.
Taste claims function to create taste beliefs and expectations of taste experiences, but they
do something weaker than assert that others will have the relevant experiences. (To see why
the assertoric content of ordinary tastiness claims cannot plausibly be “all of us [in this con-
versation] would enjoy this,” consider first that such a claim seems to require much more
knowledge about one’s audience than does “this is tasty,” and, second, that if this were the
content, the fact that one judge, A, doesn’t like an item should provide another, B, with
grounds for rejecting C’s claim that the item is tasty, which it clearly doesn’t: in normal
conversational settings, B has such a ground only if B thinks that she doesn’t like it.)
40
The idea that agreement and disagreement about taste should be understood in terms
of the communicative function of taste claims is very similar to Egan’s (2010) proposal.
41
Recently, a number of people have tried to analyze epistemic modals in terms of
communicative function. See especially Willer’s recent (2013) proposal to understand
them in terms of their context change potential and Björnsson and Finlay’s (2010)
proposal to understand epistemic relativity in deontic modals in terms of the practical
178 Gunnar Björnsson
practice would not only make sense, but seems to be our actual practice. It
is clear that hearers often respond in the relevant way to likelihood claims.
It is also clear that speakers adjust their utterances in ways relevant to this
function, expressing their likelihood judgments when epistemic guidance
is needed and withholding or making explicitly subjective their likelihood
claims when they have specific reasons to think that others have more infor-
mation about the case at hand (“He is likely to be in the orchard, I think,
but Claudia knows more”).
Assume, as seems overwhelmingly reasonable, that this is the characteris-
tic communicative function of likelihood claims. Given accept/reject, to
accept the claim that X is likely or reject the claim that X is not likely is then
to judge that X is likely; to accept the claim that X is not likely or reject the
claim that X is likely is to judge that it is not likely. Given agree/disagree,
disagreement follows for likelihood claims.42
It seems, then, that agree/disagree can account for the relevant phe-
nomena both in ordinary descriptive discourse and in the case of tasti-
ness and likelihood claims, given independently plausible ascriptions of
characteristic communicative functions to these claims. This adds to the
antecedent plausibility of the postulated connection between agreement,
disagreement, and communicative function.
function (cf. Lennertz (2014)). See also Montminy’s (2012) suggestion that claims of the
form it might be that p have as their main communicative function to “weakly suggest” p,
and that acceptance, rejection, and assessments targets this “suggestive”.
42
More generally, the suggestion that the function of epistemic modals is to guide
likelihood judgments setting subjective probabilities within an epistemic situation, seems
to explain many of the problem cases that Von Fintel and Gillies (2008) raise against
assessor relativist accounts of epistemic modals.
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 179
43
Notice that correct/incorrect provides no account of truth, falsehood, etc., only
an account of our attributions of such properties. It should be compatible with a variety
of substantive theories of truth, including minimalist theories, but it might relate in most
obvious ways to theories building on the idea that truth is the goal of rational inquiry. For
ways of building theories of truth on that idea and related platitudes, see Lynch (2009)
and Wright (1992).
180 Gunnar Björnsson
based on more relevant evidence rather than less. This explains why we
might take a likelihood claim to be incorrect if we can support rejection of it
with reference to evidence going beyond what is accessible to the speaker, as
Claudia does in the case of finding felix. We thus have a straightforward
explanation of why likelihood claims can conform to correctness even
when absolutism is not satisfied for the judgments involved: the funda-
mental standards are insensitive to the information accessible to particu-
lar speakers. For the same reason, independence might seem to hold: any
evidence that hearers have access to, whether available to the speaker or
not, might be relevant for criticizing or supporting acceptance or rejection
of the claim. Likewise for no relativization: To determine which likeli-
hood judgments are supported relative to the evidence available to different
judges is not yet to resolve any disagreement about whether Felix is likely
to be in the orchard. This can only be done by determining which evidence
is best.
What, though, of our willingness, in hindsight, to deem correct Basil’s
claim that Felix was likely to be in the orchard, and our reluctance to say
that it was incorrect? If a likelihood claim should be rejected if our best
evidence supports the contrary likelihood judgment, why do we not just
reject Basil’s claim? The explanation for this, I suggest, is the same as for
our difficulty to judge, in hindsight, whether Felix was likely to be in the
orchard. Since the function of ordinary, unrelativized, likelihood judg-
ments is to guide our subjective probabilities for a proposition, they have
no place once we take the truth-value of that proposition for granted.
Relatedly, likelihood claims having as their characteristic communicative
function to produce likelihood judgments have no such function in rela-
tion to hearers who already know the truth-value of that proposition. The
correctness of such claims must thus be assessed in relation to some other
epistemic perspective than that of hindsight knowledge. Since the most
salient such perspective when considering the correctness of Basil’s claim
will be Basil’s own, we are naturally led to think about whether accepting
the claim would satisfy the standards relative to the information available
in that perspective.44 Of course, the same holds, mutatis mutandis, for
our assessments of Claudia’s claim that Felix was not likely to be in the
orchard. So correctness is violated, and, by extension, so are independ-
ence and no relativization.
44
Cf. Björnsson and Almér (2010); Björnsson and Finlay (2010: 23). As noted for
other epistemic modals, related phenomena are displayed within a conversation when it
is common knowledge that one of the parties has more information but will not share it
(Von Fintel and Gillies (2008: 90); Björnsson and Almér (2010: 31–2)).
182 Gunnar Björnsson
45
This assumption is in line with recent empirical studies of internalist intuitions
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 183
practical functions even though internal success conditions for moral judg-
ments vary among moral judges. The lack of agreement—extensional or
intensional—on substantial characterizations of moral properties provides
prima facie evidence that internal success conditions do in fact vary, and it
seems undeniable that we need coordination of attitudes between people
not antecedently committed to the same practical standards.
The second requirement seems equally surmountable. Non-absolutism
itself says nothing about how we conceive of the fundamental standards
against which we assess moral judgments, and forms of relativism and
non-cognitivism seem compatible in principle with the assumption that
we conceive of such standards as invariant across judges and judgments.
In fact, if moral discourse and moral thinking are shaped to support the
coordination of attitudes through the coordination of moral judgments,
as non-absolutists have often suggested,46 such invariance in standards for
judgments might be an important regulative ideal.
At least at a first glance, then, agree/disagree and correct/incor-
rect seem to leave room for non-absolutist explanations of moral unity.
Interestingly, they also suggest reasons why the moral domain might not
display unity to the fullest extent. One possibility, for example, is that peo-
ple understand the characteristic function of moral claims as restricted to an
audience within the speaker’s society, roughly in the way that the function of
likelihood claims might be restricted to an audience sharing the same epis-
temic predicament. If people do, they should find disagreement problematic
when considering the moral claims and judgments of people in other societies.
Another possibility, suggested by the case of hindsight, is that some people
see fundamental standards as relative in various ways, or apply different stand-
ards depending on whose judgment is being assessed, perhaps depending on
the society in which it is made. People who do might reject correctness
and independence while thinking that disagreement holds.47 Agree/disa-
gree and correct/incorrect thus provide tools given which unity can be
systematically explained in non-absolutist discourse to the extent that it is
actually there.
Of course, to say that some form of non-absolutism can explain unity in
the moral domain is not to say that there is one that actually does. For all
among lay people (see Björnsson et al. (2014)) but should be compatible even with
strong externalist views, such as those of Strandberg (2012) and Svavarsdóttir (1999,
2006). Practical roles might include not only being for or against something, but
also states of preferential neutrality, either all-considerations-considered, or all-moral-
considerations-considered (see Dreier (2006, 2009); Silk (forthcoming)).
46
See e.g., Björnsson and McPherson (2014); Blackburn (1993b); Gibbard (1990).
47
The folk intuitions canvassed by Sarkissian et al. (2011) might reveal such an
understanding.
184 Gunnar Björnsson
I have said, absolutism might be true, and both relativist and non-cognitivist
accounts might ultimately succumb to objections other than the argument
from unity. If what I have said here is correct, however, a systematic, inde-
pendently motivated and non-ad hoc account of moral unity is in the off-
ing. This is an interesting enough prospect.48
References
Almér, A. and Björnsson, G. 2009. “Contextualism, Assessor Relativism, and
Insensitive Assessments,” Logique et Analyse 52: 363–72.
Björklund, F., Björnsson, G., Eriksson, J., Olinder, R. F., and Strandberg, C. 2012.
“Recent Work on Motivational Internalism,” Analysis 72: 124–37.
Björnsson, G. 2001. “Why Emotivists Love Inconsistency,” Philosophical Studies
104: 81–108.
Björnsson, G. 2012. “Do ‘Objectivist’ Features of Moral Discourse and Thinking
Support Moral Objectivism?” Journal of Ethics 16: 367–93.
Björnsson, G. 2013. “Quasi-Realism, Absolutism, and Judgment-Internal
Correctness Conditions,” in C. Svennerlind, J. Almäng, and R. Ingthorsson
(eds.), Johanssonian Investigations: Essays in Honour of Ingvar Johansson on His
Seventieth Birthday. Heusenstamm: Ontos, 96–119.
Björnsson, G. n.d. “Discursivism About Disagreement in Attitude,” manuscript.
Björnsson, G. and Almér, A. 2010. “The Pragmatics of Insensitive
Assessments: Understanding the Relativity of Assessments of Judgments of
Personal Taste, Epistemic Modals, and More,” in B. H. Partee, M. Glanzberg,
and J. Skilters (eds.), Formal Semantics and Pragmatics: Discourse, Context and
Models. Manhattan, KS: New Prairie Press, 1–45.
Björnsson, G. and Finlay, S. 2010. “Metaethical Contextualism Defended,” Ethics
121: 7–36.
Björnsson, G. and McPherson, T. 2014. “Moral Attitudes for
Non-Cognitivists: Solving the Specification Problem,” Mind 123: 1–38.
Björnsson, G., Eriksson, J., Strandberg, C., Olinder, R. F., and Björklund, F. 2014.
“Motivational Internalism and Folk Intuitions,” Philosophical Psychology. doi: 10.
1080/09515089.2014.894431.
Blackburn, S. 1984. Spreading the Word. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Blackburn, S. 1991a. “Just Causes,” Philosophical Studies 61: 3–17.
48
I am grateful for feedback from audiences at the University of Connecticut,
University of Gothenburg, University of Edinburgh, Lund University, Umeå University,
the 9th Wisconsin Metaethics Workshop, and the Values in Context Workshop at the
University of Lisbon. Special thanks to Tristram McPherson, Ben Lennertz, Robin
McKenna, Jussi Suikkanen, Caj Strandberg, Ragnar Francén Olinder, John Eriksson, and
Christian Munthe for extensive comments on earlier versions, and to two anonymous
referees. Work on this essay has been supported by the Swedish Research Council, grants
2009-1507 and 2012-988.
Disagreement, Correctness, and Metaethical Absolutism 185
8.1 INTRODUCTION
inconceivable, how this new relation can be a deduction from others, which are entirely
different from it’. Hume’s use of the word ‘deduction’ suggests to our ears a logical rela-
tion. However, Hume did not use the word ‘deduction’ to pick out a specifically logical
relation, and nor is it plausible from the context, or the general project of the Treatise,
that Hume had a specifically logical thesis in mind. Thanks to Don Garrett for a helpful
discussion of this point.
190 Barry Maguire
However, clearly some facts with ethical constituents are ethical facts. The least
controversial often consist in some act-token or state of affairs instantiating
some ethical property or falling under some ethical operator, such as <Ariel
Castro’s treatment of the girls was impermissible> or <you should donate 10%
of your pre-tax income to charity>. Since we are not directly concerned with
this part of ethical taxonomy, we’ll help ourselves to the ethicality of such
uncontroversially ethical facts and propositions.
A final preliminary. Logical and metaphysical autonomy theses most
likely concern different categories of relata. Logical connectives relate sen-
tences or statements, grounding relates objects or facts or perhaps proposi-
tions. It will be convenient to pick something such that it is plausible that
that thing can stand in both logical and metaphysical relations. To save
words, I’ll default to talk about ethical and non-ethical propositions.
Almost all of the literature directly concerned with ethical autonomy focuses
on the attempt to defend or reject different logical autonomy theses.4
Start with simple logical autonomy, the thesis that no non-ethical
propositions entail an ethical proposition. Take any non-ethical
proposition—that Susan Rumplebottom won the 2009 Gloucestershire
Cheese Rolling competition—and call it R. Let M be the ethical proposi-
tion that Castro’s treatment of the girls was impermissible. (R & ~R) entails
M, our ethical proposition. So simple logical autonomy is false.
A more interesting counterexample to simple logical autonomy is due
to Arthur Prior (1960). He argued as follows:
1. R entails (R ∨ M)
2. ((R ∨ M) & ~R) entails M
3. Either (R ∨ M) is ethical or not.
4. If so, then 1 constitutes a counterexample to simple logical autonomy.
5. If not, then 2 constitutes a counterexample to simple logical autonomy.
6. Therefore simple logical autonomy is false.
Premises 1 and 2 are incontestable. If (R ∨ M) is ethical, premise 4 follows
directly from 1. If (R ∨ M) is not ethical, then (so long as we assume that a
4
I stick with classical logic throughout. For an interesting discussion of relevance
logic in connection with some of our topics, see Samuel (n.d.).
192 Barry Maguire
5
In subsequent work Lloyd Humberstone (1982, 1995) and David Lewis (1988)
have shown that if one accepts certain logical taxonomic principles, one ends up commit-
ted to the view that all propositions are in every category. The argument is as follows. Let
C be a putatively isolated subclass of propositions. S is any proposition. Now suppose:
equivalence: if S and S* are classically equivalent, and S is in C, then S* is in C.
converse-implication: if S entails S* and S* is in C then S is in C.
disjunction: if S1, …,Sn are in C, then the disjunction of S1, …,Sn with any other
proposition is also in C.
negation: if S is in C, then not-S is in C.
Now the proof. Suppose that S is in C, and that S* is some arbitrary proposition. By
negation, not-S is in C. Hence by converse-implication, (S & S*) and (not-S & S*)
are in C. Then by disjunction ((S & S*) or (not-S & S*)) is in C. This is equivalent to
S*, so S* is in C. Since S* is arbitrary, it follows that all propositions are in C.
If one were to accept all these taxonomic principles for the ethical domain, then if any
proposition were ethical, all propositions would be ethical. It would follow that both
ethical autonomy and ethical nihilism were be trivially false. So any full ethical taxonomy
will need to reject at least one of the Humberstone/Lewis principles.
6
Here is Pigden’s account of contingent vacuity (for sentences): ‘An expression E is
contingently vacuous in the conclusion of a valid inference if the inference would remain
valid if E were replaced by any expression whatsoever of the same grammatical type’
(1989: 134).
7
It is unclear whether Pigden holds the view that ethicality is a relation a conclusion
bears to premises—and hence that no non-ethical propositions logically entail an ethical
proposition, or whether he thinks that some non-ethical propositions logically entail
an ethical proposition, but none do so non-vacuously. The former is problematic, for
reasons that will emerge later.
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 193
in itself, rather trivial’ (1989: 21). But this gives us some reason to doubt
that we have finally captured the important thesis that so many philoso-
phers have taken Hume to have brought to our attention.
More pertinently, non-vacuous logical autonomy faces several poten-
tial counterexamples. There are valid arguments from seemingly non-ethical
premises to seemingly ethical conclusions.
Consider first the following argument, due to Toomas Karmo (1988: 253):
1. Everything that Alfie says is true.
2. Alfie says that it is impermissible to starve the Irish.
3. Therefore it is impermissible to starve the Irish.
The conclusion seems ethical. The second premise is non-ethical. We’ll
shortly discuss whether the first premise is ethical. But for now it is worth
noting that here we clearly have a valid argument with arguably non-ethical
premises and a non-vacuous ethical conclusion.8
Now consider the following argument from Stephen Maitzen (2010: 293):
1. At least one ethical proposition is true.
2. If at least one ethical proposition is true, then torturing innocent chil-
dren is impermissible.
3. Therefore torturing innocent children is impermissible.
Again clearly the conclusion is ethical and the argument is valid. Maitzen
argues that the two premises are both non-ethical. The point for now is
that the move from simple logical autonomy to non-vacuous logical
autonomy doesn’t help with this putative counterexample. Moreover the
reason why not is fairly clear. The premises intuitively and non-vacuously
guarantee the conclusion. There is nothing logically problematic with these
arguments. What is ‘wrong’ is that their premises don’t explain their conclu-
sions. These are promising counterexamples to logical autonomy theses, but
they don’t get a foothold on metaphysical autonomy theses—or so I’ll argue.
I’ll now suggest that there is a version of Hume’s principle which is plausi-
ble, and which not only avoids all these counterexamples, but also helps to
explain which counterexamples work and why.
8
T. M. Nelson presents a structurally similar argument in his (1995: 555).
194 Barry Maguire
We start with some remarks about the character of relations within the ethi-
cal domain. Here’s Ronald Dworkin (2012: 31):
… someone asking herself whether it would be wrong to leave an unhappy marriage
might reflect on more general issues about what people owe other people they have
asked to trust them, for instance, or about the moral responsibilities children bring.
One natural interpretation here is that facts about it being wrong to leave an
unhappy marriage would obtain in virtue of facts about what one owes to
someone who trusts one, and in virtue of facts about the moral responsibili-
ties children bring—together with various non-ethical facts about the circum-
stances of the marriage, the ages of the children, and so forth.
G. A. Cohen suggests a similar explanatory structure in ‘Facts and
Principles’:9
Suppose someone affirms the principle that we should keep our promises (call that P)
because only when promises are kept can promisees successfully pursue their projects (call that
F). Then she will surely agree that she believes that F supports P because she affirms …
that we should help people to pursue their projects.
The idea, construed as a metaphysical thesis, is that particular ethical facts
obtain in virtue of more general ethical facts together with pertinent non-ethical
facts. The ‘in virtue of’ or equivalently the ‘grounding’ relation is an explana-
tory relation between metaphysical entities. We can use this characterization
of the relations that distinguish the structure of relations between facts within
the ethical domain, to characterize the sense in which facts within the ethical
domain are autonomous. This gives us the following metaphysical characteri-
zation of the ethical autonomy:
metaphysical autonomy: No ethical fact is fully grounded just by
non-ethical facts.
metaphysical autonomy is a plausible characterization of the important
sense in which ethics is autonomous, if it is. Consider a few contentious is–
ought transitions:
1. The invasion of Iraq contravened international law, therefore the inva-
sion of Iraq was wrong.10
2. Individuals are motivated by personal gain, therefore the principles of
justice allow inequalities so long as these improve the positions of the
worst off.11
9
Cohen (2008: 234). We’ll ignore the epistemological gloss that Cohen and Dworkin
often give these claims. For more on epistemic or methodological autonomy and its rela-
tionship to metaphysical and logical autonomy, see my (forthcoming).
10
This is the motivating example in Campbell Brown’s (2014).
11
This is a mock-up of the case central to Cohen’s objection to Rawlsian constructivism.
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 195
3. Jones uttered the words ‘I hereby promise to pay you, Smith, five dol-
lars’, therefore Jones has an obligation to pay Smith five dollars.12
4. Ronnie wants to dance, therefore Ronnie has a reason to dance.13
metaphysical autonomy diagnoses the error that all four disputants would
intuitively be making, if ethics were indeed autonomous. Their premises
may partially ground their conclusions, but they do not fully ground their
conclusions. Moreover metaphysical autonomy offers some guidance: we
should look around to see whether any plausible principles underlie these
arguments, for instance some principle of the form ‘It is wrong to violate
international law,’ or, ‘One ought to keep one’s promises.’
For completeness I also propose a companion principle, namely:
converse metaphysical autonomy: Any fact partly grounded by an
ethical fact is an ethical fact.
The first principle rules out the metaphysical possibility of any view accord-
ing to which some ethical fact is fully grounded just by non-ethical facts.
This ensures that if ethical facts are grounded at all, they are grounded by
at least one ethical fact. Consequently there will be ethical facts of some
kind (presumably ethical principles) that ground other facts but that are
not themselves grounded. (It is common to say of facts with this profile
that they are fundamental.14) The second principle is more contentious. To
borrow a metaphor from Hartry Field, the idea is that ethical fluid flows
unceasingly upwards, from ethical grounds to whatever they ground or
partly ground.
But before I clarify some of the details in these theses, and present a more
general defence, let me discuss the notion of ‘ground’ in some more detail.
12
This is a truncated version of Searle’s argument (1964).
13
Schroeder (2007). For critical discussion, see Scanlon (2014).
14
For instance see Bennett (2011).
196 Barry Maguire
‘The fact that the triangle is equilateral obtains in virtue of the fact that the
triangle’s three sides are all the same length.’ Or equivalently we can say ‘The
fact that the triangle’s three sides are all the same length grounds the fact
that the triangle is equilateral.’ The scrupulous are invited to translate what
follows into operational language.15
The next question concerns the category of the relata of the reasons rela-
tion. According to the intuitive notion, grounding is a metaphysical rela-
tion between worldly items rather between linguistic or representational or
theoretic entities. We assume that the relevant worldly items are facts or
true propositions rather than objects. We will remain agnostic about the
relations between objects instantiating or exemplifying properties, states
of affairs, facts, and true propositions.16 I use the word ‘fact’ in such a way
as to allow that principles are facts, for instance universal facts of the form
‘necessarily (for some specified kind of necessity) for any x, if x is F then x
is G’.17
We will assume that grounding is factive. Non-obtaining facts cannot
ground anything. False propositions cannot ground anything. However, it
will be useful to have a way of talking about what would have grounded
what if things had been different. For instance we can compare two epis-
temically possible situations, in one of which utilitarianism is true and
in the other of which some simple deontological theory is true, and ask
whether the fact that doing something would maximize net pleasure in the
world would together with the relevant ethical principles ground the fact
that you ought to do that thing. For at least some actions, these different
principles will yield different results. Or more simply we can change differ-
ent features of the consequences of the action itself. We will allow ourselves
to talk freely about such counterfactual grounding. However, we do not
allow inter-world grounding: a would-be fact in one possible world cannot
ground a would-be fact in another possible world.18 Statements about what
15
For instance, non-cognitivists articulating a conception of autonomy may prefer
to avoid the predicationalist approach. I’m borrowing this terminology from Fabrice
Correia (2010: 253). Compare the choice between operator and predicational approaches
in tense logic.
16
If you prefer to have propositions as the relata of the grounding relation you will
need to ensure that propositions are rather finely grained, for instance to allow that the
glass contains water obtains in virtue of its containing H2O. The propositionalist about
grounding may also have to heed the remarks about factivity to come in the main text;
see Fine (2012: 16).
17
Cohen assumes that principles are not facts. This is a terminological difference. He
also thinks that grounding is a relation between representational items of some kind.
We part ways on this. For an excellent characterization of principles as facts attributing
properties to kinds, see Knut Skarsaune (this volume).
18
Compare Fine (2012: 16).
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 197
19
For challenges, see Ichikawa-Jenkins (2011) and Fine (2012).
20
For the mediate/immediate grounds distinction, see Fine (2012: 19).
21
This principle about ground is extremely widespread (e.g. see Rosen (2010) and
Fine (2012)). For a helpful discussion of different kinds of conditionality to which
grounding facts (facts of the form A grounds B) might be subject, see Bader (forth-
coming), especially the distinction between enablers and grounding principles. See also
Chudnoff (2013).
198 Barry Maguire
facts obtain, certain natural facts will ‘explain’ (in a more colloquial sense)
certain ‘mixed’ ethical facts.
This brings us to the word ‘fully’ in the metaphysical autonomy prin-
ciple. Clearly ethical facts are often partly grounded by non-ethical facts.
The fact that it is impertinent to slurp my noodles obtains partly in virtue
of the fact that I am having dinner with the Queen. But this non-ethical
fact only partly grounds the ethical fact. We additionally need some facts
about conventions (perhaps themselves also non-ethical facts) and some
fact about the impertinence of ignoring these conventions (an ethical prin-
ciple or more general ethical fact).22
There is a further question about the modal status of the ‘pure’ ethi-
cal facts, or what are more naturally thought of as ethical principles. The
necessity involved must be more than a mere contingent generalization.
We can follow Kit Fine in distinguishing normative necessity and met-
aphysical necessity.23 It is a theoretically open question whether, when
some ethical grounding facts obtain—for instance <the fact that x-ing
would maximize pleasure and that you ought to do whatever would maxi-
mize pleasure grounds the fact that you ought to x>— such grounding
facts obtain with normative or metaphysical necessity. This modal distinc-
tion provides us with more precise versions of our autonomy theses. We
have two main options: an autonomy thesis based on normative necessity
and an autonomy thesis based on metaphysical necessity, perhaps even
understood in terms of essences. I will leave both options on the table for
current purposes.
Let me close this discussion of modal issues with a remark about super-
venience, by which I mean the (metaphysical, rather than conceptual)
supervenience of mixed ethical facts on non-ethical facts.24 Suppose we
22
There is an interesting question about what distinguishes principles that are part of
the grounds, from principles that provide grounds for the fact that the grounds ground
what they ground. For instance what distinguishes the following two views. (i) The fact that
x-ing causes pain grounds the fact that it is wrong to x, and that fact, the grounding fact,
is grounded by the fact that it is always wrong to cause pain. (ii) The fact that x-ing causes
pain together with the fact that it is always wrong to cause pain together ground the fact
that x-ing is wrong. (See also Bader (forthcoming).) This difference won’t matter much to
us, since we assume that grounding is transitive, and our autonomy theses are not restricted
to immediate grounds. Notice that naturalistic analyses seem to play the role of principles
in some explanations. This suggests that either the principles expressing the naturalistic
analyses are themselves ethical principles (cf. Scanlon’s (2014: ch. 2) claim that desire-based
theories of reasons can be plausibly construed as substantive ethical principles) or else meta-
physical autonomy (though a good characterization of autonomy) is false.
23
Fine (2002). See also Rosen (n.d.).
24
Here I have in mind the so-called explanatory challenge posed by supervenience.
Cf. Blackburn (1971, 1985).
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 199
maintain quite generally that grounds necessitate what they ground. And
suppose we argue specifically that certain ethical principles obtain, either
with normative or metaphysical necessity. These principles are precisely in
the business of grounding mixed ethical facts when combined with perti-
nent non-ethical facts. These theses entail the supervenience of the mixed
facts on the non-ethical facts, with either normative or metaphysical neces-
sity. Consequently, on this (sensible) view, there is no puzzle about how to
explain supervenience.25
25
Hence the business of explaining supervenience is only problematic for hardcore
particularism. It does seem consistent with hardcore particularism that ethical proper-
ties could be just scattershot around unsystematically; which is odd. I say more about
particularism in section 8.5.4.
200 Barry Maguire
26
One shortcoming with this terminology is that it suggests that a fact cannot be both
ethical and non-ethical. This is misleading. A fact may be ethical and non-ethical, e.g., in
precisely such a case as the one to which this note is appended. It would be clearer that
this is unproblematic if we had used ‘descriptive’ rather than ‘non-ethical’ throughout.
I avoid this to remain neutral about the nature of the non-ethical.
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 201
some facts that seem to be ethical but which have non-ethical and no ethi-
cal grounds. As against converse metaphysical autonomy we have some
facts that have ethical grounds but which do not seem to be ethical. We’ll
take them in turn.
28
He says the same about the following proposition: ‘if catastrophic global warming is
a genuine threat, then we ought to do something about it’ (2010: 323).
29
There is a difficult question about how to classify the necessitated form of Maitzen’s
conditional. I omit discussion for lack of space.
30
In discussion. See also Vranas (2010).
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 203
the latter fact—the fact about police officers being morally required to take
bribes—is ethical. Moreover in cases like this, in which some fact is fully
grounded trivially by some non-ethical fact, it is intuitively plausible that
the fact is not ethical. (Later on we’ll say the same about facts of the form
‘it is not impermissible to x’ in worlds in which ethical nihilism is true.)
Here’s the second kind of case.31 Suppose that in the actual world the
proposition that early stage abortion is impermissible is false. Grounding is
factive. So since this proposition is false it doesn’t have grounds, and neither
does it ground anything. So it doesn’t seem as though it will be classified
as ethical according to our autonomy theses. But the proposition that early
stage abortion is impermissible is plausibly ethical, both in general, and in
our world.
The objector has changed the subject. Our metaphysical autonomy the-
ses do not purport to provide a full ethical taxonomy, and in particular they
do not purport to provide a taxonomy of ethical propositions.32
Still, there are some things we can say about ethical propositions. Firstly
some propositions have ethical constituents. These are ‘ethical’ in one
sense—precisely in the sense that they have at least one ethical constituent,
but this is not the sense of ‘ethical’ that we are working with. Secondly some
propositions are ethical in every world in which they are true.33 Call such
propositions essentially ethical. There is plausibly no world in which
early stage abortion is impermissible, but in which this fact does not have
ethical facts among its grounds. A weaker version of this thesis is that some
propositions, had they been true, would (or the fact to which they corre-
spond would) have obtained in virtue of some ethical fact. We can call such
propositions ethical hereabouts. This is weaker because it is consistent
with there being some distant possible worlds in which the proposition is
true and not ethical. The important thing to notice is that a proposition
might be essentially ethical or ethical hereabouts and yet not ethical
in this world, since it is not true in this world.
31
Thanks to an audience at the Northern Institute of Philosophy for a discussion of
this objection.
32
It is also worth noting that on some accounts of facts, negative facts can have ethical
grounds. I discuss this further in section 6.1.
33
I beg for your patience here as we move between fact-talk and proposition-talk. It is
simplest to assume that facts are true propositions. I’m optimistic that the general points
to be made here can be translated into your preferred metaphysics of objects, properties,
facts, propositions, and truth.
204 Barry Maguire
The premises here are ethical, and they certainly ground the conclusion.
Here I have to dig in, and insist that this fact about the game is an ethi-
cal fact. We let the theory decide cases like these.34 This is similar to the
fact that what Alfie said is true, when he says it is wrong to kick dogs. But
here’s another example that might make this reply sound more plausible.
Compare two theories about the nature of law, one of which maintains
that ethical facts are always among the grounds of legal facts, the other
which denies that ethical facts are always among the grounds of legal facts.
Plausibly legal facts of the first kind are also ethical facts, and plausibly legal
facts of the second kind are not.
Maitzen presents two arguments for the second option, which he calls tax-
onomic essentialism.35 Here’s Maitzen’s first argument (2010: 302):
What we mean is up to us, but whether what we mean is true is up to the world. But
if what we mean is up to us—if it’s determined by our communicative intentions,
collective or otherwise—then surely the taxonomic status of what we mean is up to
us too, since what kind of thing we mean depends on what it is, in particular, that
we mean. But the contingency thesis makes the kind of thing we mean—not the
wide content of our utterance (as semantic externalists already insist) but its very
taxonomic category—depend on something besides our communicative intentions,
namely, the way the world is.
Both premises are contestable. As Maitzen indicates, semantic externalists
will reasonably reject the first premise. It is plausible that what we mean by
‘water’ is partly determined by what water is. Similarly it is plausible that
what we mean by ‘right’ or ‘good’ is determined by what right is and what
good is, for instance, perhaps to be good is to have properties that make
positive responses appropriate; perhaps to be right is to be value maximiz-
ing. But more importantly, it wouldn’t obviously follow from the fact that
what we mean is up to us that the taxonomic category of propositions is
up to us. For as we have already seen, it is plausible that the proposition
that what Alfie said is true is ethical when he said something ethical and
non-ethical otherwise. But the meaning of this proposition doesn’t change.
Similarly we can theoretically distinguish cases in which legal facts are or
are not grounded in ethical facts, or mental facts are or are not grounded
in physical facts, or mathematical facts are or are not grounded in logical
facts. Unless we subscribe to some grand metaphysical idealism, these mat-
ters will not be decided by our communicative intentions. But it strikes
me as plausible that legal facts are ethical facts if and only if they are partly
grounded in ethical facts, and mutatis mutandis for psychological facts and
mathematical facts.
Here’s Maitzen’s second argument (2010: 303):
The contingency thesis makes us implausibly ignorant of the correct classification
of disjunctions such as (GR) Goldbach’s Conjecture is true, or Rothenberg’s set-
ting his son on fire was morally wrong, since we don’t, and perhaps can’t, know the
truth-value of one of the disjuncts.
Strictly speaking we are concerned with the grounds for the disjunction
rather than its truth-value, though the two are related. It is true that
according to our metaphysical autonomy theses, we won’t know the taxo-
nomic category of something until we know its grounds. However, this
35
We can formulate a fact-analogue of taxonomic essentialism appealing to
fact-types instead of propositions.
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 207
8.5.4 Particularism
A second worry about the idea that taxonomic category of a fact depends on
its grounds has to do with ethical particularism. Recall that grounds neces-
sitate what they ground. This has modal implications: if facts A ground
fact B in one situation, then facts A will ground fact B in any other situ-
ation. Imagine a hardcore particularist who denies that ethical facts ever
have grounds of this sort. Does this position put pressure on the grounding
strategy?
No. We still distinguish the fact that x-ing would realize S, for some
maximally specific x and S, from the fact that <the fact that x-ing would
realize S> is a reason for you to x. The former fact doesn’t ground the latter
fact. If hardcore particularism is true then there are no general principles
relating these two kinds of facts, such as a fact of the form, whenever x-ing
would realize S that fact is a reason for you to x. Instead the facts about rea-
sons themselves (the latter facts) have no grounds. This is clearly compatible
with metaphysical autonomy.
208 Barry Maguire
36
J. S. Mill’s harm principle provides a nice case of a positive ethical ascription of
permissibility.
37
This is from a recent review of David Enoch’s defence of ‘robust realism’. Here’s
Gilbert Harman making this point: ‘According to the moral nihilist, “nothing is ever
right or wrong, just or unjust, good or bad” ’ (Harman 1977: 11). Here’s Michael Smith:
‘ … [according to a nihilist] the world contains no moral features at all: not the feature
of being obligatory, not the feature of being forbidden, and not the feature of being per-
missible either. This is all to say that external sceptics deny that any moral qualities exist,
including the quality of permissiveness’ (2010: 512).
210 Barry Maguire
38
Charles Pigden is the main exemplar of this view, see his (1989) and contributions
to (2010).
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 211
39
Cf. Blackburn (1993: 4) and elsewhere—e.g., the review of Dworkin (Blackburn
1996). The ‘protected contexts’ strategy for carving out theoretical room to distinguish
Blackburn’s view from a straightforward realist position accepts—or at least is consistent
with—the thesis that dependency claims like these are ethical claims.
40
For versions of this argument, see Joyce (2001) and Smith (2010). Cf. also Mackie
(1977: 48). His ‘argument from queerness’ has a metaphysical premise and an epis-
temological premise. We can characterize his epistemological premise as a separate
sub-argument for the second premise in the classic argument presented in the main text.
212 Barry Maguire
41
the nihiilist’s principle is also what you might call a sledgehammer principle: it
rules all of them out at once. This does seem like a relevant difference between the nihil-
istic premise and other non-nihilistic views like consequentialism and, importantly, sub-
jectivism. However, it is important to note that the principle that unless God exists,
nothing is impermissible, also has this feature. It is also a sledgehammer principle. But
that divine command principle is plausibly ethical.
Grounding the Autonomy of Ethics 213
This picture fits well with the way in which Dworkin, Cohen, Scanlon,
and Blackburn want to react to revisionary metaethical principles, that is,
metaethical principles that entail substantive ethical claims which fail to
cohere with our best ethical reflection. Consider the following characteristic
passage from Ronald Dworkin (1996: 117):
Let us accept, for the sake of argument, that we are forced to choose between the
following two propositions. (1) Human beings have a special though sometimes
fallible faculty of judgment that enables us to decide which moral claims to accept
or reject, a capacity whose malfunctioning may sometimes result only in moral mis-
judgement with no spillover impairment of other cognitive activity. (2) There is no
moral objection to exterminating an ethnic group or enslaving a race or torturing a
young child, just for fun, in front of its captive mother. Which should we abandon?
On these terms, clearly we should accept 1 and reject 2. Now consider a
choice between, on the one hand, rejecting some extremely plausible ethical
claim, and on the other hand rejecting the conjunction of the nihilist’s prin-
ciple together with the metaphysical thesis that the relevant facts of kind K
do not obtain. Clearly we should hang on to the extremely plausible ethical
claim. This is another way to interpret what Dworkin was getting at in his abor-
tion argument. When one is arguing for the negation of an ethical claim one
might not thereby be arguing for an ethical claim. But one may nevertheless be
arguing for a claim that is extremely implausible. Indeed, no matter what you
think about the ethics of abortion in cases of serious foetal abnormality, you
will probably agree that the interlocutor who maintains that abortion is not
impermissible in such circumstances, because nihilism is true, has by far the
least plausible position. This is because by committing herself to nihilism, she
thereby commits herself to denying so many other extremely plausible claims.42
References
Bader, R. Forthcoming. ‘Conditions, Modifiers, and Holism’, in E. Lord and B.
Maguire (eds.), Weighing Reasons. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Bennett, K. 2011. ‘By Our Bootstraps’, Philosophical Perspectives 25: 27–41.
Blackburn, S. 1971. ‘Moral Realism’, in J. Casey (ed.), Morality and Moral Reasoning.
London: Methuen, 101–24.
42
Special thanks to Gideon Rosen and Jack Woods for many helpful comments
and objections. Thanks also to Derek Baker, David Faraci, Kit Fine, Meghan Flaherty,
Boris Kment, Adam Lerner, Errol Lord, Sarah McGrath, Tristram McPherson, Carla
Merino-Rajme, Andreas Müller, L. A. Paul, Carlotta Pavese, Charles Pigden, Kristin
Primus, Karl Schafer, Mark Schroeder, Whitney Schwab, Michael Smith, Daniel Wodak,
two anonymous referees, and audiences at the Northern Institute of Philosophy and the
Madison Metaethics Workshop.
214 Barry Maguire
the normative facts of the world. And this is due not to any contingent
practices or conventions of ours (beyond whatever is required to make the
assertion and attribute the property), but to the nature of the property we
have attributed.
In what follows, I further explain the initial problem and provide addi-
tional background (section 9.1); I clarify and refine the proposed solution
(section 9.2); I address some objections (section 9.3); and I describe further
explanatory work that the hypothesis can do, both for the non-naturalist
and more generally (section 9.4). Our topic includes normative facts nar-
rowly construed—as when someone ought to do something—as well as
evaluative facts—as when some state of affairs would be good in itself. For
simplicity, I group both under the label “normative.” The thesis is meant to
cover both “positive” normative facts, as in the above examples, as well as
“negative” cases, such as when someone has a reason against doing some-
thing or when some outcome would be intrinsically bad. I’ll often speak
only of one or the other of the positive or negative cases, even when what
I say applies to both. Since these “thin” normative notions will be enough
to occupy us, I set aside discussion of how the theory might be extended to
so-called thick evaluatives.
It is not my aim here to be giving positive arguments for the existence
and instantiation of irreducibly normative properties. It is rather to be offer-
ing a theory about what such properties would be like. The view is supposed
to enable non-naturalists to deflect an objection to or complaint about their
theory: that the theory posits a class of properties whose natures are myste-
rious and ineffable. However, as we will see, critics of non-naturalism can
accept the account too, even as part of an argument against non-naturalism.
in chemical terms, by saying that the earth is covered in H2O. The fact that
people ought to be more kind does not at least appear to be the same fact
as any fact expressible in non-normative terms, such as that people would
be motivated to be more kind if they had full information, or that people’s
being more kind would increase preference satisfaction. Rather, the norma-
tive facts about any situation would seem to be further facts about it, and
the properties they involve thus irreducibly normative.
Non-naturalists hold, further, that these sui generis normative facts are
themselves not natural facts about the world. In saying that, they usually
mean one or more of the following: that the facts are not causally effica-
cious, that they are not discoverable wholly empirically, or that they are
not the sorts of facts the natural sciences investigate. These claims also seem
reasonable. Normative facts don’t seem observable with the senses, even
indirectly, nor required to causally explain any non-normative events in
the world.
I am here just remarking on the initial appearances, not on the ulti-
mate truth of the matter. For these initially plausible views face well-known
problems. Non-naturalists, for example, have difficulty explaining how we
can come to know normative facts, or even grasp normative properties, if
these facts and properties don’t interact causally with our brains. And all
non-reductionists have difficulty explaining why the normative facts cannot
vary independently from the non-normative facts, given their view that the
normative facts are further facts about any situation.
Reductive naturalists, who hold that normative facts are identical to cer-
tain natural facts with which we are already familiar, appear to have an
easier time explaining normative knowledge and supervenience. Reductive
naturalists avoid another problem as well: that of saying what normative
properties are, or of explaining the nature of normativity or value. Their
reductionism delivers this automatically. To illustrate, according to a sim-
ple reductive hedonism, the property of being intrinsically good just is the
property of being a state of pleasure; and according to a simple Humean
theory of reasons, to have a reason to do something just is to be motivated
to do it. These reductive theses tell us, respectively, what intrinsic value and
normative reasons are.1
Since non-naturalists resist any identification of these phenomena with
any natural phenomena, they have difficulty saying what their irreducibly
normative properties are, or are like. They can say what they are not like:
they are not causally efficacious; they are not empirically discoverable. But
1
I am not suggesting that reductive naturalism has an easier time giving a correct or
satisfying account here, just that, unlike non-reductionism, it comes with a ready-made
answer to our question.
Irreducibly Normative Properties 219
2
By “What is good?,” Moore surely means, What is goodness? He of course has sub-
stantive, informative answers to the question, What things are good?
3
Williams asks, “if [an agent] becomes persuaded of this supposedly [irreducibly nor-
mative] truth [that he has a reason to do a certain thing], what is it that he has come to
believe?” (Williams 1995 [1989]: 39). And as Finlay notes, “many philosophers remain
unsatisfied with the thought that normativity might be brute and inexplicable” (Finlay
2010: 8).
4
One might wonder to what extent this problem for non-naturalism is also a problem
for other forms of non-reductionism, especially non-reductive naturalism (the view that,
while normative properties cannot be analyzed non-normatively, they are themselves nat-
ural properties). For reasons that I lack the space to explain, I believe that the complaint
does apply to non-reductive naturalism, but less acutely.
220 Chris Heathwood
9.2 A SOLUTION: IRREDUCIBLY
NORMATIVE PROPERTIES AS ESSENTIALLY
COMMENDATORY PROPERTIES
We use words to describe reality, but we do many other things with them as
well. By uttering certain words in the right context, we can thank someone,
make an offer, condemn an act. Speech acts are a familiar, natural phenome-
non. Also familiar is that sometimes, in performing a speech act of a certain
kind, we thereby perform another speech act. If I say, “I have a car,” I have
described reality as being a certain way; I have performed a description. If
certain other things are true of the circumstances—for example, if you had
just said, “I need a ride to the store”—then, in saying, “I have a car,” I might
also be offering you a ride. In simply describing things as being a certain
way, I can also make an offer.
Typically, and perhaps even in all other cases, which other speech
acts, if any, a person performs in performing a description requires the
existence of certain background conditions beyond whatever is required
to make the description. The semantic meaning of the assertion is not
enough to give rise to other kinds of speech act. But what is interesting
about normative properties, I claim, is that if a person attributes one
to something, thus performing a description, she can’t help but also be
commending or condemning the thing. Normative and evaluative prop-
erties, if irreducible, have this special feature: if someone says sincerely
that something in the world has one of these properties, she, of necessity,
due to the nature of these properties, rather than due to background
conventions and other conditions, involves herself in more than mere
description of the world. The nature of the property is such that it makes
her commend or condemn, praise or criticize, speak positively or nega-
tively, speak for or against. The properties are at once descriptive—as,
trivially, any genuine property must be—and evaluative. We can charac-
terize this as the view of normative properties as essentially commenda-
tory properties.
This hypothesis, if true, should go some way towards assuaging critics of
non-naturalism who are mystified as to what these irreducibly normative
properties are supposed to be. We are all familiar with commending and
condemning; we all do it, no matter our metaethical predilections. These
irreducibly normative properties are interesting, according to our hypothe-
sis, because they are inherently such as to make us do it, whether we want to
or not, whenever we merely attribute one to something. That is something
substantive and interesting about their nature; it distinguishes them from
non-normative properties; and it distinguishes them from other properties
Irreducibly Normative Properties 221
5
According to Searle:
In indirect speech acts the speaker communicates to the hearer more than he actually
says by way of relying on their mutually shared background information, both linguistic
and nonlinguistic, together with the general powers of rationality and inference on the
part of the hearer.
(1979: 31–2)
222 Chris Heathwood
According to Green:
Whether, in addition to a given speech act, I am also performing an indirect speech act
would seem to depend on my intentions … What is more, these intentions must be fea-
sibly discernible on the part of one’s audience. Even if, in remarking on the fine weather,
I intend as well to request that you pass the salt, I have not done so. I need to make that
intention manifest in some way.
(2009: §3.4)
Irreducibly Normative Properties 223
the further speech act of commendation to occur; rather, what explains why
the further speech act occurs is the nature of the property attributed.
6
Cf. Austin (1962: 10):
It is gratifying to observe … how excess of profundity, or rather solemnity, at once paves
the way for immodality. For one who says ‘promising is not merely a matter of uttering
words! It is an inward and spiritual act!’ is apt to appear as a solid moralist standing out
against a generation of superficial theorizers: we see him as he sees himself, surveying the
invisible depths of ethical space, with all the distinction of a specialist in the sui generis.
Yet he provides Hippolytus with a let-out, the bigamist with an excuse for his ‘I do’ and
the welsher with a defense for his ‘I bet’. Accuracy and morality alike are on the side of
the plain saying that our word is our bond.
I’m not sure whether Austin would call the apology described above “insincere,” but
it is pretty clear that he would not deny that I have apologized; the apology is not, in his
terminology, “void.” See Austin (1962: 40).
224 Chris Heathwood
7
Copp (2009: 173–4) affirms a similar view.
8
Thomson (2008: 54) similarly dissociates speech acts like commending from the
having of positive attitudes:
it is one thing to perform the speech act of praising a thing and quite another to have any
thing that would ordinarily be regarded as a favorable attitude towards the thing praised.
Irreducibly Normative Properties 225
12
Thanks to Guy Fletcher here.
13
Thomson (2008: 54, 77) uses the unfamiliar term “dispraise” to describe what we
are doing when we call something bad. This term might, for my purposes, work just as
well as “condemn.”
228 Chris Heathwood
I attributed intrinsic goodness to the thing? It would seem so. Have I com-
mended this thing? Not obviously so.
Since perhaps it is also not obvious that I have not commended the
thing (there is independent reason to think that we can commend without
knowing it), consider another example. Suppose there is a race of rational
creatures spying on us from another planet. They become interested in
a certain use of our word “good” (when it is used to attribute intrinsic
goodness to things). They have no idea what the word means or what
phenomenon it signifies, but they are able to see that it is a predicate, and
thus suspect that it stands for some property. A whimsical member of their
community proposes that they incorporate this meaning of “good” into
their language, with the stipulation that whenever one of them applies it
to something, one attributes to this thing the same property, whatever it
is, that we humans are attributing when we apply it to something.14 Next,
suppose that after some time, certain confused members of this alien race
begin to believe that they have some insight into the nature of the property
this word expresses, and so begin genuinely to believe, of certain things,
that these things have this property. When they say that certain things
have the property, they would seem to be attributing intrinsic goodness
to it. But when they do this, are they thereby commending these things?
The pull to answer “No” in this case of community-wide ignorance may
be made even stronger if we stipulate that these aliens themselves have
no conception of value and, further, have no practice of commending or
condemning (although some may wonder whether these additional stipu-
lations make for a genuinely possible case).
This example might refute NP1. But I don’t believe it calls for wholesale
abandonment of its general idea. Rather, we can use the insight the example
provides to devise a better formulation of the general idea. Consider
NP2: Normative properties are those such that, to attribute one
knowingly to something is, due to the nature of the property know-
ingly attributed, necessarily to commend or condemn that thing.
In order to attribute a property knowingly to something, one has to know
which property one is attributing. This requires some degree of grasp of
the property. If you don’t “get” normative reasons or intrinsic value, you
can still attribute them to things, by using words learned from others who
do get it. One can “latch onto” these properties without understanding
them, as the aliens did in the example above, but one cannot attribute them
knowingly to things without understanding them. I set aside the question
of just what level of understanding of the property is required, other than
14
This example is similar to a case in Eklund (2013: §3).
Irreducibly Normative Properties 229
15
An alternative possible way to deal with such cases—though perhaps it amounts
to the same view in the end—is to require that the property be attributed directly, as
discussed in Roberts (2013). The problem cases above would be cases of indirect property
attribution.
16
The problem concerning disjunctive normative properties was brought to my atten-
tion by Matt Chrisman. Several audience members, including Noah Lemos, have raised
the worry about comparative judgments.
230 Chris Heathwood
Since being either good or bad is not a basic normative property, NP3
avoids the implication that saying, “This is either good or bad, though
I don’t know which,” is to commend or condemn something. Nor does
NP3 leave the nature of these non-basic normative properties mysteri-
ous, since non-basic normative properties are, by definition, analyzable
in terms of the basic normative properties, properties whose nature NP3
elucidates.
Next consider comparative normative judgments, such as that it’s bet-
ter to suffer a paper cut than a migraine. To state this fact may not be to
attribute a normative property to something, but surely the normative
relation attributed is something that the general approach here should
want to shed light on. One plausible way for the theory to do this is to
assimilate the case of these comparative normative assertions to the dis-
junctive case above, and hold that comparative normative relations—such
as in our example above—are non-basic, and reducible to absolute,
non-comparative, normative properties. This approach requires no revi-
sion to NP3.
To illustrate, we might say that “x is intrinsically better than y” means
that x has a certain intrinsic value, n; y has a certain intrinsic value, m; and n
is greater than m (where “n” and “m” range over real numbers). Claims such
as that x has an intrinsic value of n will correspond to commendations when
n is positive and condemnations when n is negative. (When n is zero—that
is, when we say that something has no intrinsic value—no normative prop-
erty is attributed.)
Another promising strategy is to hold that such utterances involve speech
acts that are the comparative analogs to commending and condemning.
Thus, to say that it’s better to suffer a paper cut than a migraine is to com-
mend paper cuts relative to migraines (it may also be to condemn migraines
relative to paper cuts). Judith Thomson accepts a view like this about bet-
terness relations. She holds that when we say, “Smith is a better chess player
than Jones,” we praise Smith “relative to Jones” (2008: 61).17
17
Another potentially problematic case is that of rights claims (thanks to Daniel
Wodak for raising this point). The claim that fetuses have a right to life is surely a norma-
tive claim. Are we commending fetuses when we say this? Maybe. Note that, instead of
saying that fetuses have rights, some people mean to convey more or less the same idea by
saying that fetuses have intrinsic value, and this claim seems commendatory. Note also
that we seem to be positively evaluating fetuses if we claim that they have rights, and so
we are engaging in the kind of speech act I am ultimately after here (even if “commend-
ing” isn’t a perfect word for it (see section 9.2.3)). A final point here is that rights claims
may be equivalent to certain claims about obligations. If so, then the fact that some being
has a certain right just is the fact that it is wrong to treat this being in certain ways; and
wrongness is straightforwardly covered by the theory.
Irreducibly Normative Properties 231
18
The theory as formulated (NP3 above) doesn’t strictly speaking imply this. To gen-
erate the implication, we need to make explicit what was surely already implicit: that to
attribute positive normative properties is to commend and to attribute negative normative
properties is to condemn.
19
I cannot discuss the alleged possibility that non-cognitivists might believe in nor-
mative properties and facts.
232 Chris Heathwood
almost any kind of speech act, given the right conventions and context. In
particular, if you know that your audience is interested in finding some-
thing with a certain feature, you can commend or recommend to them
something simply by pointing out that it has this feature. This holds even if
the feature is badness. But the theory of normative properties as essentially
commendatory is compatible with this. The theory describes one way that
we can commend or condemn, but allows for all manner of other ways that
this can occur, such as the way just described. Thus, while it is obvious that,
in pointing out that the act is bad, the devil is thereby recommending it,
this fact is in no tension with the theory. What is incompatible with the
theory is the claim that, in pointing out that the act is bad, the devil is not
also thereby condemning it. The objection may be implicitly assuming that
if one is commending something by describing it in a certain way, one can-
not also be condemning it by describing it in that way. But such an infer-
ence has not been justified.
So instead of deriving as a lemma the claim that the devil is not con-
demning the act by pointing out that it is bad, the objection must just
assert this as a premise. Against this, the theory of normative properties as
essentially commendatory must maintain that the devil involves himself in
a kind of conflict of speech acts. On the one hand, he is recommending the
act in calling it bad, since his audience is interested in finding an act that
would be bad to do. On the other hand, he is also condemning the act,
since he has said sincerely that it would be bad to do.
My defense of the idea that the devil is in fact condemning the act has
two parts, one negative, one positive. The negative part exposes a poor rea-
son for thinking that the devil is not condemning the act. According to this
thought, the devil must not be condemning the act in question because
the devil has no disfavorable attitudes towards it. But, as discussed earlier,
a person can genuinely commend or condemn without having the corre-
sponding attitudes, just as a person can genuinely apologize even if he’s
unable to feel remorse. Sympathy for the devil objection may be rooted in
this mistaken view of commending and condemning.
More positively, there are reasons to think that the devil is in fact con-
demning the act in pointing out that it would be bad to do. Here is a
simple argument for this. To say that an act would be bad to do is to say
something bad about it. To say something bad about an act is to (verbally)
evaluate it negatively. To (verbally) evaluate an act negatively is to condemn
it.20 These intuitively plausible principles imply that the devil has indeed
20
I include the term “verbally” because it is possible to negatively evaluate an act just
in thought, and it’s not clear whether this is a kind of condemnation. See footnote 10.
Irreducibly Normative Properties 233
condemned the act that he has said would be bad to do. Note that this
argument does not presuppose my theory. Those who reject the theory
of normative properties as essentially commending properties can accept
the argument. Consider, for example, the view that it is nothing about the
property of badness itself that makes attributions of it condemnations, but
something about our mode of representing or expressing this property that
makes attributions of it condemnations (the common analogy with slurs is
helpful here). This naturalist-friendly theory can agree with the plausible
idea that to say that an act would be bad to do is to say something bad about
it, to evaluative it negatively, and to condemn it.
Finally, it may be helpful to note that similar speech act conflicts occur in
other contexts. Judith Thomson, who defends views about attributions of
goodness that are in some ways similar to mine, gives the following example:
We have to grant in any case that it is possible to both praise and dispraise a person
in saying some words about him. If I am a professor of mathematics, and my letter
of recommendation for my graduate student for a teaching position at Greatorex
University consisted entirely of the words “He is good at doing arithmetic,” then
I have both praised and dispraised the student. I have praised him, since writing “He
is good at doing arithmetic” is praising him. But the context in which I wrote those
words makes it the case that I also dispraised him.
(Thomson 2008: 56)
Similarly, the devil has both praised and dispraised the act. The devil dis-
praised it, since saying, “It would be very bad” is dispraising it. But the con-
text in which he said those words makes it the case that he also praised it.
21
I am grateful to Gunnar Björnsson here.
Irreducibly Normative Properties 235
looking for: one such that, to attribute it to something is, due to the prop-
erty’s nature, necessarily to commend that thing?22
No, for there is a difference between a property (i) being such that if it
obtains, a commendation has occurred, and (ii) being such that if someone
attributes it to something, a commendation has occurred. (i) is true of N,
but the objection requires a property of which (ii) is true. To illustrate, the
state of affairs involving the nihilist saying, “I recommend that you donate
$20,” is sufficient for a commendation to occur. But my reporting this
natural fact—my saying, “The nihilist said, ‘I recommend that you donate
$20,’ ”—is not itself to commend or recommend anything. Whatever natu-
ral property I attribute in stating this natural fact, while it is a natural prop-
erty the instantiation of which is sufficient for a commendation to occur,
is not a natural property such that, to attribute it to something is itself to
make a commendation.
The objector here is looking for a natural fact such that merely stating
this fact is sufficient for a commendation to occur. What about the nihil-
ist’s utterance itself: “I recommend that you donate $20”? Making such
utterances is sufficient for making a commendation. However, these “per-
formatives” are not the reportings of facts; they are not true or false (Austin
1962: 6). Since no property is attributed, a fortiori no essentially commend-
atory natural property is attributed.
But perhaps some variation on the canonical performative form will pro-
vide an example of a kind of utterance that is at once descriptive and essen-
tially commendatory. If I say, “I commend you for your efforts,” or simply,
(C1) “I commend you,”
I have not described my commending you; I have done it. This is like the
nihilist’s performative. But suppose I say,
(C2) “You are hereby commended.”
(C2) is certainly a commendation, at least ordinarily, just as an utterance
of, “You are hereby warned not to come closer,” is a warning. But is (C2)
also a description, and hence a property attribution, where the property in
question is the property of being commended?
I find this hard to decide. (C2) may be just another way of saying (C1),
in which case it, too, would not be true or false. On the other hand, its
grammatical form seems rather descriptive, for it is identical in form to the
following:
22
For ease of presentation in what follows, I omit the qualification that the attribution
must be knowing.
236 Chris Heathwood
23
Strictly speaking, I should say that one can attribute C, not to someone else, but
to a certain set of things, perhaps an ordered triple, consisting of utterer, utterance, and
utteree.
Irreducibly Normative Properties 237
24
To avoid testing the reader’s patience, I have spoken somewhat loosely here. In
uttering (C3), I am not strictly speaking self-attributing C, but rather putting myself in
the “utterer slot” of C, my listener in the “utteree slot,” and (C3) itself in the “utterance
slot.” This isn’t self-attribution because the relation is attributed to a group—perhaps
an ordered triple—of people and things, of which I am a member. We might call this
“us-attribution.” But whatever we call it, the problem remains: we may have succeeded
in finding a natural property such that anyone who “us-attributes” it to a certain ordered
triple thereby commends a certain member of that triple, but this is no counterexample
to NP3, which says nothing about us-attribution.
25
Versions of which have been suggested by Justin D’Arms, Mike Ridge, Brian
Tackett, and Mark Heller.
26
Two final points. First, if non-reductive naturalism is true, there very well might be
natural properties that are essentially commendatory, namely, the normative properties
(which, on this view, are natural properties). (I say “might” because it isn’t certain: it
may require that these properties be essentially inexpressible in non-normative terms,
something that in fact strikes me as doubtful.) But I believe this possibility is dialecti-
cally irrelevant. My project is (mainly) to assume non-naturalism, and then defend an
account of the nature of irreducible normativity. So I am taking it for granted in this
section that non-reductive naturalism is false. (And note, for what it’s worth, that even
if non-reductive naturalism is true, there is still an apparently true thesis that corre-
sponds to my thesis in this section, namely, that no non-normative property is essentially
commendatory.)
Second, and relatedly, one might be tempted by the thought that if reductive natu-
ralism is true, then there will be a natural property that is necessarily commendatory,
namely, the natural property that, according to the true form of reductive naturalism, is
identical to a certain basic normative property. In reply to this, I repeat the point about
dialectical irrelevance. But I also note that it doesn’t even seem true. If we attribute this
property under its naturalistic guise, or using naturalistic vocabulary, it is not plausible
to think that such attributions must always be commendations. Even if pleasantness is
238 Chris Heathwood
identical to goodness and we all know this, I still don’t believe that to describe something
as pleasant must always be to make a commendation.
27
See, e.g., Shafer-Landau (2003: ch. 6).
Irreducibly Normative Properties 239
28
The “irreducible” here is important. If reductive naturalism is true, one can
attribute normative properties without evaluating, by attributing them under their
naturalistic guise.
29
Michael Pendlebury rejects realism on the following grounds, and in terms that
strike me as suggestive of the view here: “One reason why I am inclined toward normative
expressivism is that I do not understand how a factual proposition could have the prop-
erty that anyone who is committed to it thereby takes a normative stance” (2010: 185).
Pendlebury may be rejecting realism because it is committed to a kind of queerness not
unlike the sort I am describing here.
240 Chris Heathwood
30
This is one of the remarks that would need qualification if I am wrong that no natural
property is essentially commendatory (see section 9.3.3). The qualification would be that
the recherché natural property, attribution of which is sufficient for a commendation—the
property I called “C” above—has no promise at all as a reduction base for normative prop-
erties. Some other claims in this section could be similarly qualified.
Irreducibly Normative Properties 241
9.5 CONCLUSION
31
Judith Thomson, who is no friend of non-naturalism, agrees. She puts the point
in terms of favorable attitudes more generally rather than motivation in particular
(Thomson 2008: 54). For an overview of the controversy surrounding motivational judg-
ment internalism, see Björklund et al. (2012).
Irreducibly Normative Properties 243
view does indeed seem true (if non-naturalism is true) may help reduce
one’s bafflement.32
References
Austin, J. L. 1962. How to Do Things with Words. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Björklund, F., Björnsson, G., Eriksson, J., Olinder, R. F., and Strandberg, C. 2012.
“Recent Work: Motivational Internalism,” Analysis 72: 124–37.
Copp, D. 2009. “Realist-Expressivism and Conventional Implicature,” Oxford
Studies in Metaethics 4: 167–202.
Darwall, S., Gibbard, A., and Railton, P. 1992. “Toward Fin de siècle Ethics: Some
Trends,” Philosophical Review 101: 115–89.
Eklund, M. 2013. “Evaluative Language and Evaluative Reality,” in S. Kirchin (ed.),
Thick Concepts. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 161–81.
Finlay, S. 2007. “Four Faces of Moral Realism,” Philosophy Compass 2: 820–49.
Finlay, S. 2010. “Recent Work on Normativity,” Analysis 70: 331–46.
Green, M. 2009. “Speech Acts,” in E. Zalta (ed.), The Stanford Encyclopedia of
Philosophy (online Spring 2009 edn.).
Hare, R. M. 1952. The Language of Morals. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Heathwood, C. 2012. “Could Morality Have a Source?” Journal of Ethics & Social
Philosophy 6: 1–19.
Mackie, J. L. 1977. Ethics. New York: Penguin.
Moore, G. E. 1903. Principia Ethica. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Parfit, D. 2006. “Normativity,” Oxford Studies in Metaethics 1: 325–80.
Parfit, D. 2011. On What Matters, Volume Two. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Pendlebury, M. 2010. “How to Be a Normative Expressivist,” Philosophy and
Phenomenological Research 80: 182–207.
Roberts, D. 2013. “It’s Evaluation, Only Thicker,” in S. Kirchin (ed.), Thick
Concepts. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 78–96.
32
This essay has benefited from the feedback of quite a few people. I’d like to thank
Andrew Alwood, David Barnett, Gunnar Björnsson, Paul Bowman, Gwen Bradford,
Dan Brigham, Campbell Brown, Matt Chrisman, Christian Coons, Tim Crane, Justin
D’Arms, Matti Eklund, Aaron Elliott, David Faraci, Stephen Finlay, Guy Fletcher,
Mark Heller, Adam Hosein, Anthony Kelley, Uri Leibowitz, Noah Lemos, Hallvard
Lillehammer, Eden Lin, Don Loeb, John Maier, Kris McDaniel, Michael Pendlebury,
Jason Raibley, Mike Ridge, Jon Robson, Michael Rubin, Brian Tackett, Pekka Väyrynen,
Preston Werner, Eric Wiland, Daniel Wodak, and two anonymous referees for Oxford
Studies in Metaethics. Special thanks to Gunnar Björnsson, who was my commenta-
tor at the 2013 Central APA. I also thank audiences at the 2012 Madison Metaethics
Conference, the 2012–13 Princeton Workshop in Normative Philosophy, the 2013
Central APA, the University of Cambridge, the University of Nottingham, the University
of Edinburgh, Syracuse University, and the Center for Values and Social Policy at the
University of Colorado Boulder. Most of the work on this essay was completed during a
fellowship at the University Center for Human Values, Princeton University; I thank the
Center for that support.
244 Chris Heathwood
This chapter will develop a form of non-natural realism about value, arrived
at by way of reflection on the so-called “supervenience objection” to the
view. Though I will argue the objection fails as an objection, I think it is a
first-rate challenge; one that forces us to come back with a clearer and hope-
fully better statement of our position.
The supervenience objection has been discussed and developed so widely
that it is probably quixotic to try to give a statement that will satisfy every-
one. One reason to hope many will find their favourite version addressed
is that I take up, not one, but two objections. The bulk of the chapter
responds to Simon Blackburn’s (1971, 1985) challenge, which is to explain
why it is analytic that normative properties supervene on descriptive prop-
erties. In the last section, I take up a more recent, metaphysical challenge,
which asks how normative properties can be fundamental and at the same
time supervene on other properties. Does not that violate Hume’s Dictum,
the ban on “necessary connections between distinct existences”?
The heart of my response to Blackburn is an idea I got from Kit Fine.1
It is that normative predicates express subtly different senses when they are
applied to particular things and to kinds, respectively. The kind-applying
senses are basic and primitive, while the particular-applying senses are
defined in terms of them. A particular thing is goodpar, for example, just in
case it is a token of a goodkin kind. But then, since two descriptive twins are
tokens of exactly the same kinds, they must either both be goodpar or both
not be. Supervenience falls out of the definitions of the particular-applying
normative concepts.
This account is a cognitivist analogue of R. M. Hare (1952) and Allan
Gibbard’s (1990) non-cognitivist accounts. They also analyse ascrip-
tions of a normative predicate to a particular in terms of a general com-
mitment (in the case of Hare, a universal prescription, and in the case of
1
In discussion. Many thanks to Fine for the idea; all mistakes, of course, are mine.
246 Knut Olav Skarsaune
entails
(2) a is good.
Or as Blackburn puts it: ‘There is no moral proposition whose truth is
entailed by any proposition ascribing naturalistic properties to its subject’
(1993: 116).
So far independence. But there is also a close connection between nor-
mative and descriptive judgment. As far as I know, every prominent non-
natural realist accepts that it is in some sense a conceptual truth that things
have their value in virtue of being the way they are descriptively, and that
value therefore supervenes on descriptive properties.2
Speaking now in my own voice, I believe the best way to make this pre-
cise is as follows. What I want to say is not that any grand supervenience
principle is itself analytic, but rather that ordinary English sentences and
inferences that exemplify certain principles are analytic.3 Keeping in mind
throughout that descriptive likeness includes both properties and relations,
I take it that the inference from
(2) a is good.
(3) b is descriptively exactly like a
to
(4) b is good.
is analytic, and likewise
(5) If Ted is good, then it is impossible to be just like Ted in every descrip-
tive respect and not be good.
Sentence (5) exemplifies
2
Notice that Blackburn uses “naturalistic” to describe the supervenience base. While
I have no problem with this, it tends to invite needless distractions having to do with
divine command theory. I therefore use “descriptive” instead. In order to head off
Sturgeon’s (2008) worries, let me stress that I am not referring to the properties picked
out by this or that descriptive vocabulary. “Descriptive property” is meant to convey
a metaphysical notion, probably primitive, but sometimes elucidated with the phrase
“ways things can be”.
3
A sentence “exemplifies” a principle just in case its negation contradicts the princi-
ple; an inference exemplifies it just in case the premises together with the negation of the
conclusion contradict it. Of course, in this sense the supervenience principles exemplify
themselves, but as we shall see, they are not “ordinary English sentences”, hence they fall
outside the analyticity claim.
248 Knut Olav Skarsaune
4
Blackburn later (1985) restated the argument as follows: Suppose we judge a thing
to be good. We are then committed to there being some collection of descriptive prop-
erties and relations that underlie its goodness. Put all these together in a big, conjunc-
tive property F. Include in F also all its normatively relevant negative properties, that is,
include not being G, if being G would have destroyed its goodness. The big descriptive
property F, then, suffices for goodness, or so we think. If descriptions never entail evalu-
ations, there will be conceptually possible worlds in which the F’s are not good, as well
as worlds in which the F’s are good. But since every normatively relevant property and
relation, both positive and negative, is included in F, there will not be any conceptually
possible “mixed worlds”, in which some of the F’s are good and others not.
This strikes Blackburn as odd. If there are conceptually possible worlds in which the
F’s are good, and ones in which they are not good, then why are there no conceptually
possible worlds in which, say, half of them are good? Blackburn thinks it is implausible to
have such a “ban on mixed worlds” without giving any explanation for it.
The account I will offer meets this restated argument in exactly the same way as the
original version, so I will not discuss it any further in the text.
250 Knut Olav Skarsaune
meaning that would produce this entailment. The only option seems to be
to take supervenience as a further primitive; to say that it is just a basic fact
about the meanings of normative terms that they behave this way. That is
what Allan Gibbard, for example, thinks the non-natural realist has to say:
A non-naturalistic “moral realist” can present certain features of ethical concepts
as brute truths: that, for example, whether an act is right or wrong depends on its
natural properties. … Such a theorist, though, offers no explanation at all of the
features of moral and other normative concepts. My aim in this book is to render
normative concepts unmysterious, to explain those features of ethical concepts that
such a non-naturalist can only treat as brute. (2003: 20)
My own theory explains much that non-naturalism takes as brute features of the
non-natural realm. If the good exercises its own sovereignty, why does goodness
depend on natural fact? That’s just the way the concept works, the non-naturalist
must be reduced to saying: it just does. (2003: 184)
I agree with Blackburn and Gibbard that this would be a weak position. It is
not an inviting view to maintain that there are just three things to say about,
say, the concept good, namely (a) it is primitive, (b) it is not descriptive,
and (c) it cannot apply to one but not the other of two descriptive twins. If
the concept is primitive, where does this restriction come from?
However, I believe (c) has an underlying explanation, to which I now turn.
does not say that all/typical/in general instances of altruism are good. It says
that altruism, a kind of motivation, is itself good.
Before I explain this proposal, I should mention that we are not com-
pelled to treat all such claims the same way. It could be that some are quan-
tificational and others kind-referring, or that some allow both readings. It
seems plausible that many non-normative uses of “good” or “bad” should be
analysed as quantificational generic claims or “generics”. For example, per-
haps “Apple pie is good” should be analysed: in general, if x is an instance of
apple pie, then x is good. Perhaps some apparently kind-referring normative
claims are also quantificational generics, or at least permit such readings. The
account I will propose is perfectly compatible with this possibility, albeit in
a roundabout way.5 But for ease of exposition I will present a “clean” view
on which the relevant claims are always kind-referring.
The proposal, then, is that normative predicates can apply both to par-
ticulars and to kinds, not just superficially but also after the sentence has
been interpreted. The next question is how to explain the logical relation-
ship between claims about kinds and claims about particulars. This issue
may take a moment to register, given how used we are to quantificational
analyses of general claims. Explaining logical relations between general and
particular claims is just what quantifiers do. For example, taking us from
“All F’s are G” together with “a is F” to “a is G” is just what “all” does. But
suppose “Murder is wrong” has the simple logical form wrong(murder).
Suppose further that “a is an instance of murder” and “a is wrong” have the
logical forms instance(a,murder) and wrong(a), respectively. In that case
we lose the logical relation between these claims; the three formulas in small
caps are logically independent of each other.
This is an appropriate result in some other cases. Claims of the form
“Kind K is F” do not always imply anything about whether individual K’s
are F. For example, the Monsanto Company has patented the genetically
modified corn Genuity VT Triple PRO. Which seems to make
(6) Monsanto owns Genuity VT Triple PRO.
true. But nothing follows about who owns the kind’s instances; (6) is com-
patible with Monsanto being sold out of Genuity …, all the physical corn
thus being the property of others.
5
Once I distinguish the pro tanto and all-things-considered readings (discussed
below), I am personally not able to get an exception-allowing, generic reading of “Lying
is wrong”, but suppose we want one. On my account it would be genx [lying(x)]
(wrongpar(x)), which, given the definition that will shortly be offered in the text, would
in turn be analyzed as genx [lying(x)] (∃K [token(x,K) & WRONGkin(K)]). “gen” is a
quantifier that means, roughly, “in general”.
252 Knut Olav Skarsaune
But in the normative case, there are clearly logical relations between
claims about kinds and claims about particulars. It would be incoherent
to say that murder is wrong but that each murder has no tendency to be
wrong. If this is not explained by a silent quantifier in “Murder is wrong”,
then how is it explained?
A natural idea would be to reinstate the quantificational approach at the
level of lexical semantics, in the following way: to say that “wrong”, when
applied to a kind, does not express the concept wrong, but the concept
wrong*, which in turn has the definition being such that all one’s
instances are wrong. In other words, the sentence would not have a quan-
tifier in it, its logical form would just be wrong*(murder). But the defini-
tion of wrong* would in turn have a quantifier in it, which generates the
entailment from “Murder is wrong” and “a is a murder” to “a is wrong”.
Or perhaps one would prefer to define wrong* as being such that, in
general, one’s instances are wrong, in which case “Murder is wrong”
together with “a is a murder” would provide some kind of defeasible sup-
port for “a is wrong”.
However, for reasons I will give later, I believe we should instead explain
the logical relations from the opposite direction; we should take normative
predicates to express simple senses when they are applied to kinds, and com-
plex senses when they are applied to particulars.
Concerning the kind-applying senses, in other words, I suggest that
non-natural realists should carry on saying the things we have always said
about normative concepts (primitive, irreducible, simple, basic, fundamen-
tal). But for the particular-applying senses, we should not say those things.
These senses are, on the contrary, complex and definable. Not, though, in
terms of non-normative concepts, but in terms of the kind-applying ones.
For example, let goodpar and goodkin be the particular- and kind-applying
senses, respectively, of “good”. Then we can define the former in terms of
the latter, as follows:
CU: goodpar(x) ⟷def ∃K [token(x,K) & goodkin(K)]
A particular is goodpar just in case it is a token of a goodkin kind.
The variable “K” ranges over descriptive kinds. War, for example, is an
event kind; eating bananas is an act kind, being happy is a kind of mental
state. Importantly, there is no restriction on how general or specific the
kinds are. The range of K includes eating bananas while sitting on a train
passing by a lake, and even kinds that cannot be expressed in English at any
length.
However, we should not include so-called haecceitic kinds in the range
of K. A kind is haecceitic if it concerns a specified individual. For example,
buying Mary a bucket of roses and moving to Dallas are haecceitic kinds. The
How to Be a Moral Platonist 253
motivation for this restriction is that normative concepts do not permit mere
haecceitic differences to make a normative difference. In other words, we
should understand “alike in every descriptive respect” in our supervenience
principles to mean “alike with respect to all qualitative descriptive proper-
ties and relations”. My impression is that that is what Hare, Blackburn, and
most participants in the subsequent debate have intended.6
Like properties, kinds can have instances/tokens. For example, the Thirty
Years War is a token of the kind war, and I am an instance of the kind Homo
sapiens. A kind and a particular stand in the tokening-relation just in case the
particular is an instance of the kind.
The right-to-left direction of CU predicts that, if goodkin applies to a
kind, then goodpar applies to every instance of the kind. That might seem
too strong. For example, we might be inclined to accept both
(7) Knowledge is good.
and
(8) Oedipus’s learning that Jocasta was his mother was not good.
But this is not a counterexample. The explanation is that “good” has two
senses along another dimension. It is widely agreed that normative predi-
cates can express both pro tanto and all-things-considered senses.7 And we
6
One exception is Matthew Kramer (2009: ch. 10). He points out that many reli-
gious believers think being pleasing to God is normatively relevant, but they can hardly be
accused of conceptual confusion. He also imagines a man who favours acts that benefit
France, but not because France has any interesting descriptive properties, or because he
is French or stands in any other interesting relation to France.
I do not find these examples convincing. The example from religion is misleading,
because religious believers think God’s opinion matters because he has certain qualitative
properties (power, wisdom) and stands in certain qualitative relations to them (has cre-
ated them, cares about them). It is not clear that anyone thinks God’s haecceitic identity
makes a difference, so that, for example, we could have another qualitatively identical
world, with a qualitatively identical creator, but the people over there have no reason to
obey their creator.
The thought-experiment with the Francophile is also weak. We need to imagine two
qualitatively identical countries, France and Schmance, and our man must stand in the
same qualitative relations to both. So he did not, for example, spend the summers of his
youth in one of them; nor does he have different feelings towards them. He knows all
this, but still, on the basis of no other difference whatsoever, he calls acts that benefit
France “good” and acts that benefit Schmance “not good”. Then I would simply repeat
Hare’s intuition from section 10.1: I would be left with nothing else to think than that
“something has gone wrong with his use of the word ‘good’ ”.
7
If an act is pro tanto wrong, then it has something wrong about it, even though it
may also have something right about it. If it has more wrong than right about it, then it
is all-things-considered wrong. Some writers distinguish pro tanto concepts from prima
facie concepts (the difference is not important for my purposes here); if both exist, then
we can apply CU to each of them.
254 Knut Olav Skarsaune
must distinguish these before we apply CU. For example, in (7) we have
pro-tanto-goodkin, and in (8) we have all-things-considered-goodpar.
Under those readings, (7) and (8) are jointly compatible with CU.
This is not an ad hoc move: the distinction between pro tanto and
all-things-considered senses is independently motivated. And the predic-
tion that, if a normative concept applies to a kind, then the correspond-
ing particular-applying concept applies to every instance, is confirmed by
intuition. For example, if you think (8) is true, then you will not get (7) to
be true if you force the all-things-considered reading. And if you think
knowledge is pro tanto good, you will not get (8) to be true if you force the
pro tanto reading.
So far I have discussed “good”, but I think parallel analyses apply at least
for “bad”, “right”, “wrong”, “just”, “unjust”, “fair”, and “unfair”, or more
accurately for both the pro tanto and the all-things-considered senses of
these.8 CU, then, is a general recipe for defining particular-applying senses
of normative predicates in terms of their kind-applying senses.
CU has the same structure as R. M. Hare’s universal prescriptivism (1952),
and Alan Gibbard’s norm-expressivism (1990). These accounts also analyse
ascriptions of a normative predicate to a particular in terms of a general
commitment; in the case of Hare, a universal prescription, and in the case
of Gibbard, endorsement of a norm. In both cases, the general commitment
is existentially quantified.9 What the new account achieves is to make that
insight of Hare and Gibbard’s available in a truth-conditional framework.
In a nod to Hare, I will call it cognitive universalism.
The view now presented, I will proceed to give some reasons to accept
it. The first is that it explains the analyticity of weak supervenience, and
as we shall see in section 10.5, also that of strong supervenience, when we
combine it with a further hypothesis about normative predicates. But let
us start with the weak. The challenge is to explain things like the analytical
entailment from
(2) a is good.
(3) b is descriptively exactly like a.
to
(4) b is good.
8
I think analyses similar in spirit, but perhaps different in detail, apply for “rea-
son” and “ought”. And I suspect that aesthetic predicates like “beautiful” behave in this
way too.
9
For Gibbard, to say that a particular act is rational is to express acceptance of some
norm that permits it. For Hare, to say that a particular act is right is to command every-
one to act likewise in like circumstances (without specifying the act or the circumstances).
How to Be a Moral Platonist 255
The explanation is this. From (2), by UC, it follows that there is some kind,
let us call it “L”, such that a is a token of L, and L is goodkin. From (3) and
our definitions of kind and of the tokening-relation, it follows that b is a
token of exactly the same kinds as a. So in particular, b is a token of L,
which, recall, is goodkin, and so by UC,
(4) b is good.
It should be straightforward to see how this generalizes to the other norma-
tive predicates, and also to the case where a is not good (in which case it
follows that b is not good either).
We have, in effect, replaced a situation where we had a primitive concept
good, and a brute conceptual necessity (supervenience), with a situation
where we have a primitive concept goodkin and a defined concept goodpar.
Weak supervenience just falls out of the definition of goodpar.
10.3 BEDFELLOWS
10
Related distinctions are drawn, in a similar context, by Koslicki (1999) and Leslie
(2008).
The division of labour I discuss here, between sentence and lexical semantics, should
not be confused with the division of labour between semantics (as a whole) and meta-
physics. How to draw that line is another huge subject. But I take it that there are clear
cases on either side of the line. For example, understanding what kind-selecting predi-
cates demand about particular tokens is clearly on the semantic side. Someone who does
not understand that “The Dodo is extinct” is true iff there once were Dodos, but none
now, simply does not understand what “extinct” means. On the other hand, reduction
of truths about chairs to truths about atoms arranged chairwise is clearly on the meta-
physical side. One cannot get this reduction just on the basis of understanding concepts.
258 Knut Olav Skarsaune
humiliate others needlessly after all; the lesson you learned about that still
holds good.11
In general, what matters to your normative thinking is not really your
reaction to particular cases de re, but your reaction to the descriptive proper-
ties you think these cases have, that is, to the kind you think they instanti-
ate. What particular cases can do is to make this or that kind salient to us, by
making a token salient, but it is our verdict about the kind that plays a role
in our reflective equilibrium, not our verdict about the token. In this way,
beliefs about particulars are epiphenomenal in our normative belief system;
they are supported by but do not support beliefs about kinds. Reflective
equilibrium is reached when our beliefs about more general kinds fit with
our beliefs about more specific kinds.
Normative enquiry, then, has exactly the structure we should expect if
cognitive universalism is true. Since normative claims about kinds are not
generalizations over their instances, they are not justified in the way gen-
eralizations are justified, from premises about instances. Instead, they are
justified either by some kind of direct conviction about the kind (say, that it
is wrong to kill people on account of their ethnicity), or else by their coher-
ence in a network of judgments about kinds. And just as normative claims
about particulars, in worldly truth-conditions, factor into a descriptive com-
ponent about the particular, and a general normative component, so they
are justified by evidence about the descriptive properties of the particular,
and a general normative judgment or principle.
elements, which makes it more difficult to say whether they are analytic.
Indeed, there may be no sharp line between what is analytic and what is just
very unarguably true. That being said, I would agree that
(5) If Ted is good, then it is impossible to be just like Ted in every descrip-
tive respect and not be good.
is analytic.12 But cognitive universalism does not in itself predict this. The
antecedent entails that there is some kind T, such that Ted is a token of T,
and T is goodkin. The consequent, in effect, says that no one, in any possible
world, is T but not goodpar. But from T’s being goodkin in the actual world,
it does not obviously follow that T is goodkin in all worlds. And if there is a
world where T is not goodkin, then CU allows people there to be T but not
goodpar. Before I explain why this does not happen, I will set the stage by
discussing a different example, from mathematics.
Syntactically, “47 is a prime number” is in the present tense. So one might
think its truth-condition is that 47 is prime at the time of utterance. After all,
that is the semantical contribution the present tense usually makes. But it
seems to me that someone who says
(23) 47 is prime today, but on Thursday it will not be.
is showing clear signs of conceptual confusion. Assuming they understand
the rest of the sentence, they apparently do not understand “prime” ade-
quately. In other words, it is plausible that
(24) If a number is prime, then it is always prime.
is analytic. The explanation is that “prime” is a tenseless predicate; it may
accept tense syntactically speaking (“was prime”, “will be prime”), but it
does not really have tense semantically speaking. Exactly how to cash this
out depends on your general semantical framework; perhaps the proposi-
tion expressed by “47 is prime” does not have a time parameter, or time
argument. In any case, the result is this: if you fully understand “47 is
prime”, then you know that you are not supposed to evaluate it with respect
to any particular time. The result is that (23) is analytically false and (24)
analytically true; but unobviously so, due to the subtle explanation of their
analytic truth/falsehood. That seems about right.
Suppose, next, that someone says
(25) 47 is prime, but if Gore had won the Florida recount, 47 would not
have been prime.
12
Like before, read “descriptively alike” to include both properties and relations.
264 Knut Olav Skarsaune
That assertion would also seem to signal conceptual confusion. Given a yes/
no choice, again, I would say that
(26) If a number is prime, then it is necessarily prime.
is analytic. The explanation is that “prime” is what Fine (2005) calls an
“unworldly” predicate. This is the modal analogue of tenselessness. Again,
exactly how to cash it out depends on one’s general semantical framework;
perhaps the proposition expressed by “47 is prime” does not have a world
parameter or world index. In any case, the result is this: if you fully under-
stand “47 is prime”, then you know you are not supposed to evaluate it
with respect to any particular world. This makes (25) analytically false and
(26) analytically true, but in an even more subtle and unobvious way than
before; which again seems like a welcome prediction.
The explanation, I propose, of the analyticity of strong supervenience is
cognitive universalism plus the fact that the basic, kind-applying senses of
normative predicates are tenseless and unworldly. The analyticity of (5) is
then explained as follows. From the antecedent, it follows by UC that Ted is
a token of some kind, let us call it “T”, such that T is goodkin. Since “good-
kin” is tenseless and unworldly, T is goodkin in every world. But then, by UC,
any possible thing that is T is also goodpar, so the consequent is established.
The tenselessness and unworldliness of the kind-applying senses is
easy to miss, because the words we use to express them also express
particular-applying senses, which are both tensed and worldly. Or more
accurately, the particular-applying senses are “bastards”, having a worldly
part (the descriptive part) and an unworldly part (the normative) in their
definition.
Another reason one might think normative claims about kinds are sensi-
tive to time or world is that we often make such claims in a “parochial” way,
leaving some background conditions implicit. For example, we think
(27) Slavery is wrong.
is true and obviously so. But it seems possible for slavery to be right; suppose
we come across an alien, intelligent species for which freedom is torture and
servitude bliss, and which does not even have the potential to be happy in
any other way. It seems it would be OK, perhaps a duty, to enslave them.
It is important to notice, however, how we react to this kind of example.
My reaction is to clarify what I mean by (27).13 When I now assert (27),
I do not intend “slavery” to cover this kind of case; what I intend to say is
13
As mentioned in section 10.2 and explained in n. 5, my account can accommodate
exception-allowing, generic readings for claims like (27). I cannot feel any such reading
of (27), but if you can, restrict what I say in this section to the kind-referring reading.
How to Be a Moral Platonist 265
that enslavement of humans and other creatures that are capable of autonomy
without agony, is wrong.
There is no point in lengthy clarifications of precisely which act kind
we are talking about when our interlocutor understands it perfectly well
anyway. There may be bizarre but metaphysically possible scenarios where
slavery, rape, genocide, etc., would be OK; but it would only waste time
and strain our interlocutor’s patience to enumerate outlandish exceptions
that are irrelevant to the moral problems we are dealing with.
The crucial point, again, is this: if such a faraway scenario is brought to
attention and made relevant, we treat it as calling for clarification of the
claim we made, for example that slavery is wrong. We do not stick to the
original claim but reserve it for the actual world; we do not conclude that
slavery can be right but is actually wrong.
A careful look at how we react to such examples, then, indicates that the
kind-applying normative concepts are indeed unworldly. Which, together
with cognitive universalism, explains the analyticity of strong superveni-
ence. I suggest in conclusion that these explanatory advantages, and the
structure of moral epistemology, make cognitive universalism an attractive
account of normative language.
Why doubt it? The concern is that non-natural realists claim that norma-
tive properties are fundamental and non-descriptive. They cannot be reduced
in terms of our desires, beliefs, attitudes, or anything else; in fact they are
properties of a different kind from all others. But on the other hand, given
supervenience, they are each going to have a cointensional (necessarily coex-
tensional) descriptive property. Take for example goodness: just look at all
the good things in all the possible worlds, and put each of their profiles of
descriptive properties and relations together in a long, disjunctive property
D. Given supervenience, goodness and D are cointensional: every possible
good thing is also D, and every possible D thing is also good.14
This result collides with Hume’s Dictum: the principle that there be
no “necessary connections between distinct existences”. It is not obvious
exactly what that means (cf. Wilson 2010), but in the present context it
boils down to a ban on distinct, cointensional properties. In other words: if,
in every possible world, all the Fs are Gs and vice versa, then F and G are the
same property. For if F and G are really different properties, then surely it is
possible for something to be F without being G or vice versa?
Hume’s Dictum is especially plausible for fundamental properties. If F is
a fundamental property, then a thing x’s being F does not consist in some-
thing else being the case with x; x’s being F is just a basic fact. And likewise
for x’s being G, if G is also fundamental. But if x’s being F is just a basic
fact, then there should be another world that is otherwise like the given one,
except that x is not F.15 And if x’s being G is another basic fact, then it would
be strange if it were impossible to remove x’s F-ness without removing its
G-ness. Thus, even looking just at a single thing x, it seems like it should be
possible for fundamental properties to come apart.
The worry, then, is that we have no good explanation of why non-natural
values or reasons would supervene on descriptive properties, and that, sup-
posing they do supervene, they will violate (a version of ) Hume’s Dictum, by
having cointensional descriptive properties (from which they are neverthe-
less supposed to be distinct). So if non-natural realism is to be plausible, it
needs to explain why non-natural reasons or values supervene on descriptive
properties, and explain it in a way that either gets around Hume’s Dictum,
or else makes it plausible that (the relevant version of ) the Dictum is false.
14
See Jackson (1998: ch. 5) for a rigorous statement of this point.
15
It may be that x would need some other property from F’s contrast class. For exam-
ple, if F is a shape, then x would take some other shape H. But if G is some other fun-
damental property (by hypothesis not a shape), then it would be strange if this change
would have to result in the removal of x’s G-ness.
How to Be a Moral Platonist 267
in the necessary facts without a difference in the Y-facts, for any Y you like,
because there can be no difference in the necessary facts, period).
The view requires metaphysical commitment not only to non-natural
normative properties, but also to kinds to serve as their bearers. If we have
kinds in our metaphysics anyway, that is of course no problem, but not
everybody does. However, suppose we have properties in our metaphysics,
for independent reasons. Then we can suit the view to our liking, as fol-
lows: instead of saying the metaphysically basic fact that makes “causing
needless pain is wrong” true is that the kind causing needless pain has the
property wrong, we can say it is that the property causes needless pain has
the property wrongmaking. Rather than posit the kind pleasure to instanti-
ate the property good, we can posit the property pleasant to instantiate the
property goodmaking. And so on. For each basic, normative concept F that
applies to kinds, we posit a corresponding F-making property that applies
to properties.
On this second view, the particular-applying property goodness will just
be the property having a goodmaking property. Particular-applying wrongness
will just be the property having a wrongmaking property. And so on. The
explanation of supervenience proceeds as before.
I do not mean to suggest that there is a deep metaphysical difference
between properties and kinds. There seems to be a shallow difference,
marked by the linguistic phenomena above; the kind murder is wrong, but
the property murderhood is not wrong (but wrongmaking). I am not com-
pletely sure what to think about this, but it seems to me that the two ver-
sions are different ways of spelling out the details of a single underlying
view. The underlying view is that the basic normative properties are second-
order; they take universals, rather than particulars, as their bearers. Hence
the name “moral platonism”. It is this broad view I want to defend.16 For
ease of exposition, I will revert to the kind-based view, but my discussion
applies equally to the property-based view.
Moral platonism will, to be sure, leave something unexplained, and it will
contain some necessary connections between distinct properties. But it is
crucial to see exactly what is left unexplained, and exactly what these neces-
sary connections are like. What is left unexplained is not supervenience,
but rather (some of the) facts about which kinds of things are good, bad,
wrong, etc. For example, that causing needless pain is wrong; that happi-
ness is good; that suffering is bad. Some of these facts may be explainable in
16
The view is suggested by Mackie (1977: 23, 41) and superbly defended by Forrest
(1986).
How to Be a Moral Platonist 269
terms of the others, but some of them are going to be basic, and admit of
no further explanation.
Everyone agrees it is a desideratum on metaethical theories that they
should explain why the values of particular things supervene on their
descriptive properties. Non-natural realism can do that, using the reductive
account of particular-applying normative properties, and appealing to facts
about the values of kinds. So the question is whether it is OK to leave these
latter facts unexplained. In other words, is it also a desideratum on meta-
ethical theories that they should explain why suffering is bad, or why happi-
ness is good, and so on? To me these seem like good places for explanations
to end. But it is hard to argue about where explanations should end; so let
us just record that the view developed here will have such commitments.
But what about the necessity of these facts? Will they not give us “neces-
sary connections between distinct existences”? Yes they will, but it is impor-
tant to see exactly what these connections are like. Actually they come in
two forms. First, particular-applying normative properties will have coin-
tensional descriptive properties, like goodness and D, as discussed above.
But particular-applying goodness is not a fundamental property; it is just
the property being a token of a good kind. That it necessarily co-occurs with
D is just a trivial consequence of its definition, given that facts about the
values of kinds are necessary.
So the interesting necessary connections are these latter facts them-
selves. Take agony and badness, for example. The necessary connection
between them is not co-occurrence, but instantiation. It is not that agony and
(kind-applying) badness are instantiated by the same things; it is that agony
itself instantiates badness, that agony is bad. In other words, the necessary
connection is that a first-order universal has a second-order universal.
There are other examples of necessary connections between first- and
second-order universals. Crimson, for example, has the property of being
a shade of red. And it has that property in every world, or in every world
in which it exists, on an Aristotelian view of universals. That is not strange
at all; of course we need not check, with any given world, to see whether
crimson is a shade of red there.
Necessary relations between first- and second-order universals, then, can-
not be ruled out as a matter of principle. We have to look at each case and
see if a given first- and second-order universal are contingently or necessar-
ily related. In the case of determinables and determinates, it is plausible that
the connections are necessary, because they hold in virtue of the nature of
the universals themselves. Being a shade of red is part of what crimson is.
The normative case is not like that. It is, for example, not part of what
agony is that it is bad. But it is still intuitively plausible that we do not have
to check with a given world to see whether agony is bad there. Or whether,
270 Knut Olav Skarsaune
which world to create. His alternatives are the substantive possible worlds,
not the tractarian ones. Seven being a prime number is not somehow a fea-
ture of every alternative, it is not a feature of any of them. The mathematical
facts are already there, before he creates anything.
Likewise, when non-natural realists say the basic normative facts are nec-
essary (Parfit 2011: II, 489; Enoch 2011: 146; Scanlon 2014: 39–41), they
are not well understood as saying that these facts hold, again and again, in
every world. They are part of the invariable framework. God may decide
which world to create, but he does not get to say how good it will be if cre-
ated. The basic normative facts are already there.
The strong supervenience of particular-applying normative properties on
descriptive properties is a natural consequence of this view. Whether or
not the view violates Hume’s Dictum depends on how we understand the
Dictum, once the worldly/unworldly and necessary/transcendental distinc-
tions have been made. One could combine moral platonism with a version
of the Dictum, restricted to necessary relations between worldly properties
(properties that figure in worldly facts), or between fundamental worldly
properties.
But a proponent of Hume’s Dictum could reasonably say that the spirit
of the Dictum requires a ban on both necessary and transcendental connec-
tions between distinct properties. In that case the present view contradicts
her principle. But someone who is otherwise inclined to accept transcenden-
tal facts is not likely to worry that they connect “distinct existences” (what
else would they connect?). So Hume’s Dictum turns out to be a side issue;
the big question is whether to accept transcendental facts in the first place.
Not surprisingly, then, the case for moral platonism opens up into the
case for platonist metaphysics in general. If mathematical, logical, and/or
modal facts are best understood as transcendental, then moral platonism
has impressive allies. I leave it to others to defend the other platonisms;
here I will only point out that one can also argue in the other direction.
If non-natural realism is the best account of value, and if, as I have argued
here, thinking about supervenience takes us from non-natural realism to
platonism, then one might simply conclude that there are transcendental
facts because there are values.
References
Blackburn, S. 1971. ‘Moral Realism’, in J. Casey (ed.), Morality and Moral
Reasoning: Five Essays in Ethics. London: Methuen, 101–24.
272 Knut Olav Skarsaune
all for the phenomenon of supervenience. They are, it appears, in the same
boat as Robust Realists, with respect to this problem (and, as I’ll explain,
some other similar ones).
Section 11.6 maps out the possible paths for Quasi-Realists to travel in
pursuit of Quasi-Explananda, and gives what I think are some reasons to be
optimistic, but does not run the quarry to ground. I end with a suggestive
analogy and a synopsis of the state of the dialectic.
When something has a moral property, it also has a natural property whose
possession necessitates the moral one. This is a kind of supervenience of
the moral on the natural. The supervenience relation comes in a number of
strengths and versions. I will lay out a crash course in the varieties, and settle
on one for our purposes, and along the way settle a few other details. Then
I will say why the supervenience of the moral on the natural is supposed to
be a problem for a certain kind of moral realism. To end the section, I will
mention some doubts and worries about the supervenience of the moral on
the natural and try to say why they are not of great concern here, but I will
not address them seriously.
Supervenience is a relation between families of properties. Properties of
one kind supervene on properties of another kind when there cannot be
a difference of the first kind without there being a difference of the sec-
ond kind. Cannot, because supervenience is a relation of necessitation. In
1952, R. M. Hare (1991) introduced metaethics to the supervenience of
the evaluative on the natural, or as he often put it on the descriptive. A pair
of paintings, hanging side by side, could not differ in their goodness with-
out differing in their non-evaluative description. It is a somewhat vexed
question whether the moral supervenes on the natural—whether superveni-
ence holds between the family of moral properties and the family of natural
properties—not least because it is hard to delineate the family of natural
properties. For our dialectical purposes it won’t be important to specify the
family that is subjacent, as Hare (1984) put it. We will suppose that there
is a family of natural properties, that it includes the properties studied in
the sciences, and that it is closed under Boolean combination (so that, for
example, if P is in the family and Q is, then so is P&Q).
Hare plainly had in mind a wider class than the moral; his paintings were
to be evaluated in aesthetic terms, for instance. And nowadays metaethics
seems not to be a very natural subject if its explananda are restricted to the
moral realm proper. Philosophers tend to think the mysteries and problems
Explaining the Quasi-Real 275
1
But perhaps not; see Foot (1958) for examples showing how doubtful it is that a
person has a moral view at all when the content of the view comes apart too far from
familiar ones.
Explaining the Quasi-Real 277
2
I think it is not as clear as often supposed exactly what Moore’s view was; see Dreier
(2006) for my best try at working it out. Still, Moore serves as a good paradigm for the
kind of view I have in mind.
3
Perhaps including Parfit (2011) and Scanlon (2014), but there is some question of
whether it’s correct to use “Robust” to describe their realism. I won’t take a stand on the
interpretive question here. If these new realists are not robust, we might consider whether
they can end up with a better explanation of supervenience, or whether instead they just
end up in the same boat, as I argue is true of Quasi-Realism.
278 Jamie Dreier
So this was the state of the dialectic for some decades since Blackburn
(1971), or maybe even since Hare (1991). Robust Realism has an explan-
atory burden, which it will have trouble discharging, and other theories
thereby gain an advantage if they have no such trouble. But in recent years
some new doubts have arisen. The next section describes these problems
and offers my response. It is too brief to be satisfying, I am sorry to say, but
a full exploration will have to await a separate occasion.
properties without sharing all moral properties, but for the trivial reason
that no two persons can share all natural properties! You and I differ in our
spatio-temporal location … and necessarily so.
Strong Supervenience is not trivialized by this observation, in fact. For
although no two actual persons share a location at a time, there are cer-
tainly two distinct possible persons, each of whom could have been right
here, right now (though not together, in the same possibility). Strong
Supervenience says that these distinct persons do not share all natural prop-
erties unless they also share all moral properties. And that is not trivial. For
instance, you yourself could have been right there, where you are and when
you are, even though you had the name “Rumpelstiltskin.” (Other natural-
istic, relational properties of yours would have had to differ, of course.) The
worry can be pressed further,4 but the threat of trivialization can be held at
bay by clear thinking.
The third problem is also a kind of trivialization worry. I will call it the
Concept Defense. And I have to give a somewhat longer treatment of it,
because the upshot of my response to this problem will be important in
the sections to follow. The Defense arises in the context of Tim Scanlon’s
non-naturalism about reasons, and specifically the view that moral and
other normative features of our world are non-natural because the property
of being a reason is non-natural. Brad Hooker and Philip Stratton-Lake
(2006) have suggested that the supervenience of this normative non-natural
property, being a reason, needs no metaphysical explanation, because it has
a purely conceptual explanation. There is something plausible about this
idea. After all, Strong Supervenience is a conceptual necessity. Conceptual
necessities are explained by the nature of concepts. So it is hard to see how
there can be a special problem for metaethicists with a particular view of
the metaphysics of moral properties. Whatever kind of explanation there
is available to other metaethical views should presumably be available to
Robust Realists. Hooker and Stratton-Lake are discussing Scanlon’s view
that the fundamental normative notion is the notion of being a reason.
They write, “We do not see a difficulty here. It is a conceptual truth that
if you have a reason to care about A, then there must be something that
provides the reason. This something is what the reason supervenes on”
(Hooker and Stratton-Lake 2006: 164). Their way of putting it is somewhat
indirect—the issue is not what the reason supervenes on, but what the prop-
erty of its being a reason supervenes on—but the point is that it is a feature
of the concept (of being a reason) that it supervenes on the non-normative
features of the situation and the agent. In the context, Stratton-Lake and
4
Thanks to Krister Bykvist for making all of this clear to me.
280 Jamie Dreier
Hooker are urging the advantages of Scanlon’s approach over Moore’s, but
I think they are mistaken.5 A Robust Realist who took goodness or wrongness
or some other moral concept as the basic one, or who took no particular
moral concept as more basic than any other, could surely offer the same
explanation of supervenience: these concepts have built into them that their
properties supervene on the non-moral ones.
Russ Shafer-Landau (2003: 86) made a similar point:
Assume for now that it is a conceptual truth that moral facts/properties/relations
are supervenient ones. The problem, then, [w]ould be that competent speakers of a
language can conceive of a world in which the base properties that actually underlie
particular moral ones fail to do so. But there is no mystery here, since people can
conceive of many things that are not metaphysically possible. If certain base proper-
ties metaphysically necessitate the presence of specified moral properties, then the
conceptual possibility that they fail to do so reveals only a limitation on our appre-
ciation of the relevant metaphysical relations. There is no deep explanatory puzzle
resisting resolution here.
The main idea is that apparently metaphysical necessities can often be
explained conceptually. Consider Planet–Star Necessity:
Planet–Star Necessity
It is necessary that every planet orbits a star. (This really is a matter of
stipulation, since the International Astronomical Union changed the
definition of “planet” in 2006 by fiat, and ordinary speakers seem to
defer to expert panels like the IAU.) And all planets are massive, round
bodies. But if someone complained that we cannot by our words make
it necessary that all those massive round bodies orbit the sun, they
would be missing the point. The necessity is conceptual: to count as a
planet a big round thing has to orbit a star.6
The IAU did not have to first check to be sure that the planet–star connec-
tion really is necessary. Why, then, should we think that once the conceptual
truths of moral attribution are made fully explicit, there is any remaining
necessitation to explain?
Here again is Strong Supervenience:
⃞ (∀F in α)(∀x)[Fx →(∃G in β)(Gx & ⃞ (∀y)(Gy → Fy))]
Hooker and Stratton-Lake were, I think, distracted by the first necessity
operator. Keep your eye on the second one. Suppose it is a conceptual truth
that the α properties are necessitated by the β properties. Still, we would
need an explanation for why they are. Necessitation seems to require an
5
For a thorough discussion, see Olson (2004).
6
I think I first got this analogy, in a different context, in conversation with Jon Tresan.
Explaining the Quasi-Real 281
7
Inspired by McPherson (2012), and also by Marquis (1990).
282 Jamie Dreier
8
See Dreier (1992) for my sorting out of that argument; I still think most of the argu-
ment in that paper is correct.
Explaining the Quasi-Real 283
If we turn again to the anti-realist explanation of (S), we can see [it has] the feature
that an attitude—the attitude of moral approval—is said to have certain properties,
and this by itself is the truth of which (S) is … a propositional reflection. Thus, the
moral attitude is said to be necessarily held because of the naturalistic properties of
its objects, and the statement of supervenience, made in terms of which differences
entail which others, is a realistic-appearing way of putting the view that difference
in moral attitudes to two things must, logically, be justified by differences in beliefs
about them.
(Blackburn 1971: 120)
In moral language, according to Blackburn, we express our moral
attitudes—complexes of emotion and commitment. The supervenience
constraint, then, is really a constraint on how we “moralize.” Part of the
language game of moral discussion involves maintaining like attitudes
toward like cases—we approve or disapprove or resent things for their nat-
ural properties, so the reappearance of those same natural properties calls
again for the same attitudes. Someone who flouted this constraint would
show that she did not understand the game, and so did not possess the
concept. The “propositional reflection” is Blackburn’s characterization of
the form of language we use in our moralizing. We speak in declarative sen-
tences when we express our moral attitudes, and the sentences have a gram-
mar that suggests—but perhaps misleadingly—that we are talking about
some independently existing moral reality. The conceptual supervenience
constraint shows up in this propositional reflection as a necessary connec-
tion between that apparent independent reality and the natural world. But
really the only necessity involved is the institutional, conceptual necessity
of our practice.
Later Blackburn put it like this:
[W]e could say that in the moral case as well, when we deal with analytically pos-
sible worlds, we are dealing with the beliefs we have about competence: in this case
the belief that the competent person will not flout supervenience. But this belief
is explained only by the further, anti-realist nature of moralizing. If moralizing
were depicting further, moral aspects of reality, there would be no explanation of
the conceptual constraint, and hence of our belief about the shape of a competent
morality.
(Blackburn 1985: 64)
Blackburn’s account of supervenience here exemplifies what I’m calling the
Expressivist Sidestep. Here’s how it works.
We might be puzzled about the nature of morality, and seek out a sea-
soned professional to set us right. “What is moral wrongness?” we ask.
Some metaethicists have a “straight” answer, but expressivists have none.
“There’s nothing helpful I can say about that,” they reply. “If you want to
284 Jamie Dreier
know what makes things morally wrong, you’ll have to ask a normative
moral theorist, and if you’re asking me about the moral properties them-
selves, I’m afraid you are just laboring under a mistaken presupposition.”
How disappointing. “But I can tell you something else that will let you
understand what’s really going on here. I can tell you what we are doing
when we call things ‘wrong’. And I can tell you what we are thinking when
we think that things are wrong, and when we disagree with others, and so
on.” And they proceed to do so. Expressivists think there is nothing much
to say about the nature of the moral realm and its elements, except of
course by moral theory. They think the illuminating way to understand our
life of moral talk and thought is by stepping off to the side and looking at
the phenomena from there. Instead of thinking about wrongness, we think
about thoughts and talk of wrongness. Everything we wanted to explain
turns out to have a much clearer explanation from this side-on vantage.
Here is the formulation of supervenience in Gibbard (2003: 90):
Two acts in two possible situations differ in being okay or not only if they differ,
somehow, in their prosaically factual properties. That is to say, for any two possible
situations s1 and s2, we have the following: only if act a1 in s1 differs factually from act
a2 in s2 will it be okay to do a1 in s1, though not okay to do a2 in s2.
Gibbard’s view works like this. People make plans, which in Gibbard’s tech-
nical sense means that they form intentions or preferences for what to do
and how to feel (and, indeed, what to believe) in various circumstances.
These contingency plans they can then express in normative language, and
that’s what normative language is for. For you think that in Sherlock’s situ-
ation one ought to pack one’s bags to prepare to escape Moriarty is for you
to plan to pack your bags if in that situation. For you to think it is “not
okay” to pack in Sherlock’s situation is for you to have plans that rule out
packing in that situation. What can be okay or not okay is an act in a situ-
ation, as the quotation above suggests. In Thinking How to Live, Gibbard
gave his own explanation of the supervenience constraint. He showed that
the constraint is a kind of theorem of the conceptual apparatus he develops,
in two stages.
First, Gibbard shows that (in his semantics) each person is committed
to all claims that would be true in each maximal specification of her plans
and beliefs together. The idea is that the plans of ordinary human beings
like us are incomplete and underspecified. We may, if we’ve been reflecting
on the Sherlock Holmes stories, have formed a contingency plan for what
to do if in Sherlock’s situation; but many people have not, of course, and
there is little practical cost to having no view about what to do if pursued
by Moriarty. Similarly we may have no belief about whether the number
Explaining the Quasi-Real 285
of stars in the Milky Way is odd or even. But we can imagine maximally
opinionated superhumans who have definite opinions about all “matters
of prosaic fact,” like how many stars there are in which galaxies, and so
have doxastic states that can be represented by particular, individual pos-
sible worlds. And we can imagine maximally opinionated hyperplanners,
too, who have perfectly detailed hyperplans for what to do when in each
and every imaginable situation. What you are committed to, in your plan-
ning, is not just what you explicitly plan but what you would plan in every
hyperplan that fully specifies your actual plans. These might be commit-
ments that haven’t occurred to you, because you haven’t worked out all the
implications of your plans. So that is the first step: we are committed to
everything planned and believed by the maximally opinionated hyperplan-
ners whose plans are further specifications of what we’ve already planned
and what we already believe.
Second, Gibbard shows that each hyperplanner is committed to super-
venience. This is not too hard to see. It is of the nature of plans that the
contingencies for which they are plans are features of the situation that are
at least in principle recognizable.
A planner, after all, must identify acts in terms of their prosaically factual proper-
ties: a plan, say, always to do whatever is the thing to do is no plan at all. A hyper-
plan can take the infinite form, in situation S1 do the act with property P1, in
situation S2 do the act with property P2, and so on. From this we can construct the
grand property, having the property P1 in S1, P2 in S2, and so on. Call this property
Pn; the plan, then, is in any possible situation, to do something with this grand prop-
erty Pn. In a hyperdecided state, this shows, one accepts that there is a property that
constitutes being okay to do—namely Pn. And this property is constructed, finitely
or infinitely, out of factual properties.
(Gibbard 2003: 96)
Since the hyperdecided planner, no matter what her plans, accepts that
there is a natural (“factual”) property that constitutes being okay to do,
she accepts supervenience. Each of us must be committed to whatever all
hyperplanners accept, since we are committed to whatever all hyperplanners
who completely specify our own plans are committed to. So, each of us is
committed to supervenience.
This is a more elaborate and more rigorous explanation than Blackburn’s,
but it is in the same mode. To explain supervenience, we do not try to find a
metaphysical relation between properties. We look for features of the logic,
the concepts we deploy in our moral talk and thought, that account for the
a priori nature of our commitment to supervenience. That’s the Expressivist
Sidestep.
286 Jamie Dreier
9
Perhaps. I in effect deny this claim in “The Normative Explanation of Normativity,”
a work in progress.
10
I spell this out more fully, and elaborate on the answer that follows in the text here,
in Dreier (2004).
Explaining the Quasi-Real 289
“prosaic factual” beliefs (which have no normative contents) along with her
plans. Goodness has no explanatory role to play.11
I’ll call this the Explanation Explanation. What distinguishes
Quasi-Realism from Robust Realism is that in the latter, but not the for-
mer, the properties and facts that form the subject matter appear in the
best explanation of our beliefs and assertions with that subject matter as
content. The moral facts and properties are part of the explanation for what
it is about us in virtue of which we have moral beliefs and make moral
assertions, according to Robust Realism; according to Quasi-Realism, on
the other hand, although we certainly do make moral assertions and have
moral beliefs, and these are sometimes true, and factual, and so on, the
moral facts and properties play no role in explaining what it is about us in
virtue of which we count as saying these things and having such thoughts.
So far, so good. But now it will be easy to say why the standard story,
according to which expressivism has a satisfying account of superveni-
ence and Robust Realism has none, must be wrong. Quasi-Realists will,
naturally, agree that the moral supervenes on the natural. They agree that
there could not have been a man just like Jackie Robinson in all naturalistic
respects, but a little worse, or a lot better, or morally different. Because of
their minimalism about property talk, they agree that Robinson had a prop-
erty, perhaps hard to specify precisely, of being good to some degree, and
that this property is one that he could not have lacked unless he lacked some
natural property he did in fact have. So, they must agree that he had a prop-
erty that is necessitated, metaphysically, by his natural properties. Okay, so
what? Quasi-Realists are happy to say these things, perhaps. But then we ask
for the explanation for this metaphysical necessitation. What shall they say?
Will they give us Gibbard’s story about why all planners are committed
to supervenience? Or Blackburn’s story about why we regard it as consti-
tutive of competence with moral concepts that we respect the rule that
we always apply like moral concepts to naturalistically like cases? They are
entitled to offer these explanations. But they explain the wrong thing. These
explanations are explanations of why we accept supervenience, or why we
are committed to it. They do not explain supervenience itself. They do not
explain the metaphysically necessary connection; they explain why we are
all constrained to believe it.
Well, that’s how the Expressivist Sidestep works, after all, and on the
whole it has seemed to be a very promising strategy. Why is it no good
here? It’s no good because the problem that supervenience poses for Robust
11
Unfortunately, matters have become much more complicated with the publication
of Gibbard (2012). I try to address this complication in “The Normative Explanation of
Normativity.” I just ignore these complications in what follows.
290 Jamie Dreier
12
Actually, this line is more complicated than I am making it out. Michael Ridge has
suggested to me that there is a quite plausible Quasi-Naturalist line, according to which
the expressivist account of the point and expressive function of moral language is correct,
and no moral vocabulary need occur in the best explanation of our moral judgment, but
a kind of identity or claim of constitution can still be embraced. Indeed, it may be that
this is the best way of understanding Allan Gibbard’s view. I pursue a similar idea in “The
Normative Explanation of Normativity,” but here I will leave it to one side and continue
to assume that Quasi-Realism takes the form of Quasi-Non-Naturalism.
292 Jamie Dreier
because there isn’t really anything to explain. When Quasi-Realists say that
there are moral properties, and that they are necessarily correlated with
natural properties, they mean nothing more than … Something simple
and undemanding—I will try to finish the thought in a moment. I am
not optimistic about this fork, but some will find it more amenable than
I do, and I’m not averse to it—if it turns out to work I will be pleased, not
disappointed. The other fork in this path follows the idea that moral facts
and properties are of a different kind from natural ones, and because of
their nature they are particularly undemanding when it comes to explain-
ing their superficially striking patterns. This line takes the robustness of
Robust Realism seriously. There is an intelligible respect in which some
properties are robust, and their metaphysical features and relations stand in
need of explanations, while other properties are wispy and insubstantial and
explanatorily undemanding. Let me now develop these two ways of trying
to make good on the claim that Quasi-Realists can explain why superveni-
ence needs no explanation.
My Explanation Explanation of the difference between Quasi-Realism
and Robust Realism could be understood this way:
if we need F to explain what it is to believe that something is F, then
(that’s evidence that) there is F-ness; otherwise we have other reasons
to speak as if there were, but Strictly Speaking there isn’t.
Maybe we should understand it this way. Then the interpretation of
Quasi-Realism is that according to it, there aren’t really any moral proper-
ties, even though it is fine to speak as if there are. There are some contexts
in which this makes perfectly good sense. It is fine to speak, in certain con-
texts, as if there were a Santa Claus, even though there isn’t; and perhaps it
is fine to speak as if there were an average American woman, even though
there isn’t one. Some ways of thinking about ontology encourage this sort
of distinction. Quine suggested that the items in our true ontology are the
ones we are prepared to quantify over when we are in a serious philosophi-
cal mood, and not simply speaking with the vulgar. Those who like Quine’s
approach might then think of Quasi-Realists as metaethicists who are happy
to speak with the vulgar, and who (at least claim to) have shown that there
is no harm in doing so, but who do not really believe in moral properties.
In that case, it is perfectly sensible also for Quasi-Realists to deny that there
is, really, any metaphysical necessitation to explain, when it comes to moral
supervenience. They could think of supervenience as articulating a rule, but
not a truth. And they can give an explanation for why we do and should
follow the rule, but be content to have no explanation for what they could
say only a Robust Realist believes.
Explaining the Quasi-Real 293
Here is why I am not very happy with this suggestion. Ask a Quasi-Realist
whether slavery is unjust and there is no doubt what answer you’ll get. Of
course slavery is unjust, what a question! We’re not error theorists! We’re fine
upstanding moralizers!
Now if we can use the minimalist schema
x has the property of being F iff x is F
we can conclude that slavery has the property of being unjust. No fur-
ther premise is needed—just the premise that slavery is unjust along with
the minimalist schema. A Quasi-Realist could try taking it back. He could
deny that slavery is unjust, or at least decline to assert it. But this looks like
the abandonment of Quasi-Realism. So instead, the Quasi-Realist could
wait until a serious philosophical moment, when he’s wearing his serious
metaphysicians hat, and then take it all back. “Slavery is not really unjust,
you know—I mean, at least, it is not the case that slavery is unjust, not to
say that it is just, either. It’s just okay to speak like that, with the vulgar.”
But again, this looks like the abandonment of the position in favor of error
theory. (Most error theorists think it’s fine to say the false things that so
many ordinary moralizers say.)
So, finally, a Quasi-Realist could decline to use the minimalist schema.
And that might not be so bad. She could say, “The minimalist schema is
fine for non-committal talk of properties, but do not mistake that talk for
serious metaphysical talk of serious metaphysical properties. It takes more
than the use of a grammatical predicate to commit us to the serious meta-
physical properties.” I must admit that I sometimes think this is right. Oh,
you meant, properties; I thought you just meant properties. Only I have
the sinking feeling that we don’t know what this means. What, exactly, is
the difference? What else is the robust metaphysical sort of property, besides
what we are committed to just by the minimalist schema along with the use
of the grammatical predicate?
Well, my own Explanation Explanation might answer that question.
It might be that the robust metaphysical properties are precisely the ones
that pull their own weight in certain kinds of explanations. They are the
ones that appear in the best explanation of the beliefs and assertions that
have them (the properties) in their contents. Then Quasi-Realists are dis-
tinguished precisely by their view that moral properties are not robust and
metaphysical in exactly this sense. That would be gratifying.
But now we are no longer taking the first fork I mentioned. We are taking
the second fork. The criterion for a property’s being metaphysically signifi-
cant and robust is the role it plays in the explanation of our beliefs about
it. So, there are just two kinds of properties. The claim is now that the
lightweight kind have some especially undemanding status when it comes
294 Jamie Dreier
13
I reached just this point, too, in Dreier (2012). That paper is also about the issue
of explaining the quasi-real, the case in point being what Sharon Street calls the cosmic
coincidence between our normative beliefs and the normative truth. A good and satisfy-
ing answer to the problem raised in this essay would, I am confident, give a fully satisfy-
ing answer to the problem raised in that one.
Explaining the Quasi-Real 295
In Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels, the hero frequently finds himself in
a perilous, almost hopeless situation. Swimming in a tank of killer sharks,
strapped to a table with the prospect of being split in two by a laser, his
chances of escape are slim. And yet, he escapes, each time. Over and over he
needs a great stroke of luck, or each of a series of events to fall just his way, if
he is to get out of the deadly jam, and over and over he just manages to pull
it off. What an astounding sequence of coincidences! There must be some
explanation. I wonder what it could be. Do the gods smile upon 007? Are
there unseen forces guiding the apparently random events? No, of course
not. It is no part of the stories that he is protected by supernatural forces.
Of course, Bond possesses unusual physical prowess, unrivaled will power,
and a steely constitution. But his skin-of-the-teeth escapes are still largely a
matter of luck, which is to say, they have no overall explanation.
Or do they? Maybe there is this explanation: Ian Fleming needs Bond for
the next novel. And his books would be dull if Bond never got into appar-
ently impossible jams. So, Fleming’s devices require this cosmic coincidence
of escapes. Maybe that explains them.
No, that’s not right. Ian Fleming’s literary (and commercial) needs do not
explain Bond’s narrow escapes. Fleming does not even exist in Bond’s world!
It is easy to confuse two questions, but they really are two separate ques-
tions. One is a question about James Bond and his predicaments. The other
is a question about the existence of stories of a certain kind. If we use “[F]”
as the in the fiction operator, as e.g., in Lewis (1978), we can distinguish the
questions as follows:
1. [F]why does Bond escape?
2. Why [F]does Bond escape?
The first question can’t be answered with facts about Ian Fleming, since
Fleming does not exist in the fiction and so cannot be part of any explana-
tion. Facts about Fleming can answer the second question, of course. The
first question, presumably, has no answer at all. It’s just luck. (I suppose
that’s an answer; I mean, there is no explanation for Bond’s amazing series
of escapes.) The second question gets an answer which, properly under-
stood, helps us feel better about the lack of any answer to the first question.
Sometimes it is very important to a story that a series of odd events
turns out to have a satisfying explanation. Suppose you read a detective
story saturated by strange clues, like the fact that each victim was wearing
a striped hat, that the banks were robbed only on Tuesday mornings, or
296 Jamie Dreier
that the sergeant in charge of the case and the butler’s sister each grew up
in Swansea and later moved to Market Basing. In the end, it turns out that
these coincidences have no significance at all. They were just coincidences.
This is a terrible detective story. But, that’s because of the conventions of
detective fiction—silly red herrings are not playing fair. As a general rule,
there can be pure unexplained coincidences in stories if they advance the
plot or add entertaining elements.
Perhaps the analogy is clear enough. The fictional world of James Bond
is like the “projected” world of moral facts, according to Quasi-Realism.
Things happen in this image created by our words and thoughts; the
things themselves do not depend in any ordinary causal or counterfactual
way on us (we don’t even exist in most fictional worlds), but the struc-
ture of the stories does. There is no explanation for Bond’s escapes, or
the necessary connection between the moral and the natural. There is an
explanation for why there is a story in which Bond is so lucky, and there
is an explanation for why we have an expressive practice in which our
moral property attributions are tied to the natural properties of things.
The explanations we get are not explanations of the object-level phenom-
ena, of course, but maybe they can relieve us of the felt need for such an
explanation.
Expressivists accuse Robust Realists of lacking an explanation for a
striking metaphysical necessity, the one entailed by the supervenience of
the moral on the natural. They seem to be right. But, it turns out, they
are in the same boat. The explanations they can offer are explanations for
something else, more like explaining why Ian Fleming wrote a story in a
certain way than like explaining why a secret agent escaped. If they are
Quasi-Realists, expressivists must admit the existence of the explanandum.
They can claim that it is a quasi-explanandum, but then the question is
why this is supposed to help. Why do quasi-explananda need no real expla-
nation? Because being Quasi-Real is not a way of being real? Or because
Quasi-Properties are explanatorily lightweight, in that they do not bear
explanatory weight, and so are explanatorily undemanding, in that their
connections do not need explanation? I have unfortunately been unable to
resolve this complicated question. I hope I have at least made it look like
a serious question.
References
Blackburn, S. 1971. “Moral Realism,” in J. Casey (ed.), Morality and Moral
Reasoning: Five Essays in Ethics. London: Methuen, 101–24.
Blackburn, S. 1984. Spreading the Word: Groundings in the Philosophy of Language.
New York: Oxford University Press.
Explaining the Quasi-Real 297