In a response (“Inwardness and Sociability”, Philosophical Investigations, 37
(2014), 57-77),
Michael Campbell questions the idea of a grounding of morality whether in grammar
or in facts of human nature. In the same issue there is a rejoinder
by Carter . I found Campbell’s response on the whole well-argued and
instructive. At the same time, there were things in the discussion I found it
hard to get a grip on. In this and a later installment I wish to make a few comments,
mainly with the purpose of trying to work out the issues for myself.
Why is it a problem if moral convictions cannot be
distinguished from matters of taste or preference? One central reason, I take
it (though this is not made explicit in the debate), is that this would make it
impossible to understand why we should accord a person’s moral convictions a
respect which we do not accord, say, his taste in curtains or his preference
for watching hockey rather than football on tv. Respect, I should empasize, is
compatible with rejection, though it will show itself in the manner in which the rejection gets
expressed.
Thus, for instance, there is the question of whether the
unwillingness of health-care personnel to participate in abortions is to be
respected, or whether they can be obliged to participate as part of their
professional duties. This, one might suggest, is connected with whether we
think of their unwillingness as an expression of a moral conviction or just a
personal reluctance.
For another example, let us consider an episode in the
film Chariots of Fire, which is based
on real events. Eric Liddell was on
the British team for the 1924 Olympics in Paris. He was deeply religious, and
was reported to have said, "I
believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I
run, I feel His pleasure." This meant that he would not race on
the Sabbath. He is selected to run the 100 metres, but when it turns out that
the trial heats for the event are on a Sunday, he declares that he cannot compete.
The British Olympic Committee, including the Prince of Wales, try to persuade
him to change his mind, but he does not budge. (The standoff is resolved by his
swapping events with another member of the British team.)
What I found of interest in this connection is the way
the committee members approach the issue. They ask Liddell whether he would not
be willing to make a sacrifice for
Britain by competing on a Sunday. Thus, they seem to treat his unwillingness to
compete as a matter of personal preference rather than an ethical / religious
conviction. (I submit that the ethical and the religious are on a par in this
respect.) They think that for him running on the Sabbath is something he prefers not to do, and thus running
would involve a sacrifice on his part, one that he might be persuaded to
undertake for a more important cause (the glory of Britain). But actually abstaining from running was the sacrifice
he felt obliged to make; for him, there was no higher cause.
As I construe Carter’s position, if it is to be
intelligible why certain convictions are to be accorded respect, they must be
grounded in something independent of the individual or the practices of some
group. A conviction deserves respect if it is “right”, as it were. The analogy
here seems to be with being a credible witness: the speaker deserves to be
believed if she has what we can all agree are valid grounds for the claims she
is making. Similarly, the Olympic Committee might have been able to respect Liddell’s
abstention if he had adduced grounds on which we can all agree, e.g. considerations
of health. Since he could not adduce such grounds, there was no right or wrong
about his wish, it simply boiled down to a matter of personal (or group)
preference, and thus had no particular claim to be respected.
Campbell’s position, I gather, is almost the opposite
of this. What makes a conviction deserving of respect is the depth with which
it is held by the individual, the degree to which it is anchored in his or her
life. This is why it is hard to imagine, for instance, how a love of evil – one
of the examples discussed by Carter and Campbell – could take a form worthy of
respect. Perhaps we could say: the more alien the proposed object of love
appears to us, the heavier the burden of proof required if we are to be able to
meet it with respect.
In a later entry, I plan to comment on the relation
between morality and grammar.
