Sunday, January 30, 2011

Morality and Health

In his arguments for a science of morality, Sam Harris relies heavily on the following analogy: well-being is to morality what health is to medicine. His claim is not simply that morality is a natural phenomenon which can be studied as rigorously as any other. Rather, it is that moral prescriptions can be as scientifically grounded as medical prescriptions. That there is no basic difference between a doctor giving a patient medicine and a moral scientist prescribing right conduct.

Of course, when a doctor says, "take two and call me in the morning," she is, in a sense, prescribing right conduct. She is telling her patient what to do. More often than not, I think, the patient trusts her to give good medical advice. That is, the patient is listening to the doctor precisely because he wants to recover from some malady, and believes that the doctor knows how to help him get over it. The prescription would not be morally binding unless we were to suppose that people had a moral obligation to do what their doctor says. But that is not an attractive moral principle. Our doctors tell us what is best, and--even when we believe we have been given the best available medical advice--we are left to decide whether or not taking that advice is something we should do. Medical advice is not morally binding. Doctors don't prescribe right conduct in the moral sense of "right."

If the advice of moral scientists is just like the advice of medical doctors, then it is not morally binding. Indeed, the sort of advice Harris defines as "moral" is just advice about how to promote well-being, and that seems to be health, or a particular sort of health--perhaps mental or emotional health. But now we have a problem. Advice about well-being was supposed to tell us what was morally correct. But if the science of morality is just like medicine--if it is just the science of well-being--then this "moral" advice is not morally binding. Even if moral science tells us what is right and wrong, it is ultimately up to us to decide whether or not it is right or wrong to follow the advice of moral science. Moral science is no better than any branch of medical science when it comes to making moral prescriptions. Once you start discussing the morality of these prescriptions, you are no longer pursuing science.

There is a big difference between ordinary medical prescriptions and the sorts of moral prescriptions Harris is talking about. He is talking about prescriptions based on how our actions are likely to affect other people. Instead of telling us what we should do to promote our own health, Harris' moral science would use the same medical science to tell us what we should do to promote the health of other people. By shifting the focus from ourselves to other people, we find a lot more room for moral responsibility. However, while the moral scientist may appeal to our sense of social responsibility (or familial responsibility, or global responsibility, or what have you), the science does not provide or ground any such sense of responsibility. Science does not tell us what we should value.

We need something more than science to get us from medical science to moral judgment. This is Harris' most profound failing; but his entire discussion of health is confused. In his recent defense of his book, he ridicules the following three claims:

(1) "There is no scientific basis to say that we should value health, our own or anyone else's."

(2) "Hence, if someone does not care about health, or cares only about his own and not about the health of others, there is no way to argue that he is wrong from the point of view of science."

(3) "Even if we did agree to grant "health" primacy in any discussion of medicine, it is difficult or impossible to define it with rigor. It is, therefore, impossible to measure health scientifically. Thus, there can be no science of medicine."

Yet, (1) and (2) seem true to me. Of course, you could use science to make an argument that somebody should value health, but your scientific argument is not binding on all rational people--not even on all rational people who value science. The problem is, your scientific argument will only be relevant to people who share some other values--values which go beyond the basic value set of science itself. As for (3), it is false, but not for the reason Harris supposes. It is not difficult to define "health" with rigor. Medical science has a rigorous, working definition of "health." According to the NIH's online medical dictionary, health is:

the condition of an organism or one of its parts in which it performs its vital functions normally or properly: the state of being sound in body or mind; freedom from physical disease and pain.
This is a working definition only in the sense that we are still learning about some of the functions of our bodily organs, not in the sense that we might one day discover that "health" doesn't mean what we thought it meant.

Harris rejects (3) for a less compelling reason. He claims that we can study health scientifically even though we lack a rigorous definition of it. He denies that we have a rigorous definition of "health," and thus concludes that you don't need a rigorous definition to pursue something scientifically. Thus, he says, the fact that we lack a rigorous definition of "well-being" should not prevent us from studying it scientifically. But we do have a clear, rigorous, and uncontroversial medical definition of "health."

If "well-being" is just taken as a general term for mental or emotional health, then we already have ways of talking about it scientifically. We have clear enough definitions for mental and emotional health. If we didn't, the scientific discourse would not exist. If "well-being" is taken to mean something else, though--something other than health, or a known variety of health--then it isn't clear what that could be. It is incoherent to say that we can study "it" scientifically, if we don't at least have a working definition of what "it" is. Furthermore, if "well-being" is taken to refer to an indefinite, vague, and heterogeneous set of health-related characteristics (as it seems to be), then it would be wrong to suppose that any measurements of it would be rationally binding. There is room to disagree about whether or not we should call any particular measurement a measurement of well-being, and this is not a disagreement about facts. Of course, we can apply science in our consideration of any and all of those characteristics we regard as constituting well-being. We can, for limited purposes, define "well-being" to refer to specific characteristics with such-and-such relative weights, and then come to scientific conclusions about well-being under those well-defined constraints. But such an analysis of well-being would be based on the values we had assumed at the outset. It would not tell us what to value. And when different actions can be shown to promote different aspects of well-being, science cannot tell us which of those aspects we should value more than the others. Harris might accept that such is the case--that people who have different ways of regarding well-being will come to different, but equally rational, conclusions about how to promote it. What he doesn't accept, however, is this logical conclusion: that his view looks a whole lot like moral relativism.

Harris' argument for moral righteousness comes down to his claim that facts about general well-being are morally binding, that what is morally right is always and only what most promotes general well-being. This is the "ought" he says is beyond reproach. But it isn't beyond reproach. Despite the problems with defining "well-being" indicated in the previous paragraph, I'm not convinced that the worst possible scenario is one in which all sentient beings suffer for as much and as long as possible. I (and others from various cultural backgrounds I've asked) would rather see everybody suffer equally than see a universe where a planet of sadistic aliens caused the worst possible suffering for the rest of the sentient creatures in the universe, and relished it as one might a Thanksgiving or Christmas feast. Morality might best be thought of in terms of fairness or dignity, and not well-being--which is not to say that well-being is unimportant or irrelevant for a great many of our moral concerns. While many of our values certainly involve concerns about well-being to a large extent, they are not obviously all reducible to them. Furthermore, even those values which are reducible to concerns about well-being are not clearly reducible to a concern for universal well-being. And whether or not they should be is not a question of fact.

The best we can say is that the science of well-being (taken as the science of health itself, or specifically as mental or emotional health) can help us make informed decisions on a wide range of issues. However, it cannot prescribe right action in any morally binding sense. It cannot tell us which creatures we are morally obligated to care about. It cannot tell us what we should value without appealing to what we already value. And, again, while it may be obvious that we should value the promotion of general well-being, it is not obvious that this should be our primary--let alone our only--concern. All science can do is tell us what the likely consequences of our actions will be. That's good medicine, but it's not what Harris is selling.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

A Science of Dignity

In my previous post I said "x ought to y" just means "if F(x,y), then x will foster x's dignity." [On second thought, since the moral "ought" implies an obligation, I think "x ought to y" rather means "if not-F(x,y), then x will not foster x's dignity."] This means that "we ought not foster our own dignity" is a logical absurdity. This might seem intuitively obvious to many people, but it might not be that easy to understand. Why is it absurd to say that somebody shouldn't foster their own dignity? Here's an attempt to answer that question, and also to work out some related knots.

Dignity is what defines us as moral agents. The imperative "should" implies an appeal to one's sense of moral agency, and we cannot simultaneously appeal to and negate somebody's moral agency. So, when I say morality is the process of fostering dignity, I just mean it is the process of fostering moral agency. This leaves completely open the question of whether or not there are objective moral truths, or whether any particular actions are morally permissible or impermissible. Though it does suggest that there might be a set of objectively immoral actions: namely, acts of abjugating moral agency. Perhaps we can, with full objectivity, say that people should not abjugate their moral agency. However, doing so may sometimes be necessary to foster dignity. For example, I might sabotage my future ability to be a moral agent because it is the only way I can foster my moral agency today.

Are there scientifically discoverable means of fostering dignity? Are there scientific methods of being moral? I would say yes, in a sense, and no, in another sense. Yes, in the sense that we can scientifically discover methods for enhancing our moral drive. The drive to dignity is surely based on physiology, and this can be manipulated with science. So I don't see why science cannot help us foster dignity. The question is, while this would make us more moral in one sense, it wouldn't necessarily make us more moral in another sense. It wouldn't help us establish objective foundations for morality. It wouldn't even necessarily make us "good people" by any given standard.

Dignity can be fostered in a great many ways, possibly an indefinite number of ways, and I don't see how there could be objective truths about the relative values of different ways of fostering dignity. When we foster dignity, we are not thereby getting something right. We aren't discovering a fact. We're establishing and/or following social norms. We're (1) helping define what it means to be a good person and (2) evaluating ourselves with respect to the rules we have helped create. The process of fostering dignity includes a process of creating moral precepts, and these are not justifiable with science alone. We might be able to use science to enhance our moral impulses, and we can certainly use science to better understand how the world works and thus better understand what might or might not be valuable to us. However, we cannot use science to discover moral precepts which are "right" in any objective sense. Science can help us foster dignity, but it cannot help us find "the right moral precepts," as if there were any such thing.

Edited on January 23, 2011 21:45 GMT

Harris Replies to Blackford

Sam Harris has responded to Russell Blackford's review--or, rather, to Jerry Coyne's summation of Russell's review--at Why Evolution Is True. I've joined the discussion with a number of elaborate comments. I'm reposting my most recent comment below (with slight modification), since I think it is of the most general interest, and because it develops some of my own ideas in interesting ways:

About defining “morality,” I think there are two assumptions in play here:

1) Evolution has favored ways of thinking which promote general well-being.

2) What people call “morality,” though different in many details, is just those ways of thinking which promote general well-being.

If we accepted these two premises, we could argue that what is moral is just what promotes general well-being. There is no sense in saying something could be moral without promoting general well-being, because the definition of “morality” doesn’t allow it.

I think (1) is possibly true, but it hasn't been established beyond a reasonable doubt. In contrast, (2) does not seem true at all. Russell’s criticism of Harris is worth repeating here (actually, I’ll rephrase it slightly, but the substance is the same): If “x ought to y” just means “If F(x,y), then general well-being will be promoted,” then the statement “we ought to promote general well-being” would be a tautology. It would just mean “by promoting general well-being, we promote general well-being.” This is not something we could logically refute. Yet, we can say “you ought to promote general well-being” without saying anything apparently tautological. We can, in fact, rationally wonder whether or not promoting general well-being is something we ought to do. This makes the proposed definition of “morality” very unattractive.

There are other reasons to suppose that our moral thinking is not just about promoting well-being. I tend to think of moral thinking as more about fostering a sense of one’s own dignity. Our moral impulse is our impulse to be dignified rational agents. So, “x ought to y” really means “If F(x,y), then x will foster x’s dignity.” The statement “x should foster x’s dignity” would be tautological, and this isn’t so hard to accept. For it would seem illogical to say to somebody that they should not foster their own dignity. So I would rather define “morality” as “the process of fostering dignity,” and not “ways of thinking which promote general well-being.”

Follow-up: A Science of Dignity

Russell Blackford on Sam Harris and Me

I've been discussing Sam Harris a bit at Russell Blackford's blog, Metamagician and the Hellfire Club. Russell's published a review of Sam's new book, The Moral Landscape, and he makes some very strong criticisms, all of which I agree with. Russell has also quite surprisingly and kindly drawn attention to me and Specter of Reason, even though he has suggested that I'm a bit too hard on Sam. I am indeed much more critical of Sam's recent work on moral philosophy.

I cannot help but worry about popular attitudes towards atheism and philosophy, and I don't think New Atheism has always and only been of help. Don't get me wrong. The New Atheists have done a lot that is good. But they have also done some harm, and I'm worried about their overall direction. Sam's recent work (his public appearances as well as his new book) may be the worst so far. It strikes me as both arrogant and ignorant (a dangerous combination), and exploitative of the intellectually impoverished times. Philosophy and atheism deserve better than this.

I used to defend Sam Harris' approach to atheism, even though I never agreed with him on many of the finer points. Now I find it impossible to support him. His recent work is an insult to philosophy and I can't see it doing any good. It will hopefully inspire other, more sophisticated thinkers (like Russell) to become more vocal. It may even help them attract a wider audience. But that is no reason to praise Sam's recent work. I wouldn't celebrate a famine which devastated an impoverished community just because it inspired long-overdue aid.

I am not happy that Sam Harris represents popular atheism. Of course, I appreciate the need for many voices. I wouldn't try to stop him from speaking or publishing--not like I could, anyway. But that doesn't mean I should pretend that I like it. It doesn't mean I should support him.

As I recently commented on Russell's blog:

'I was once very happy to see people like Harris and Dawkins lead the atheist movement, even though I would have done things a bit differently than them. But I'm afraid they have failed to give popular atheism the philosophical integrity it needs and deserves. They've turned off many would-be allies, and they've made it pretty easy for many people to use "New Atheism" as a pejorative. Maybe the current situation is the best we could hope for at this historical and cultural juncture, so maybe I shouldn't be too hard on them. But I do wish atheism had a better public voice.

I think the hullabaloo over Harris' new book is a product of the intellectual poverty of our times. When Harris dismisses the majority of moral philosophy, he is preaching to a choir of ignorance. The public has no patience or appreciation for philosophical sophistication. Perhaps they shouldn't, but neither should they act as if they knew better. It's the arrogance coupled with ignorance that is so damaging. The poor public opinion about philosophy may even be affecting our institutions of higher learning. Philosophy departments (even some of the best) are being gutted. I'm deeply concerned about atheism and philosophy, and as much as I respect what Harris has done in the past, I'm worried about how he might be affecting the future of both.'

I'm not sure how much Russell would agree with my concerns here. He hasn't been so explicit about it, but he has made a concerted effort to praise Sam's work in developing the New Atheist movement, and he strongly encourages pretty much everyone to buy Sam's new book. Russell has already admitted to a possible bias, though. He has a vested interest in seeing the market for such books improve. I wouldn't chalk too much up to bias, though. I'm sure he really does think there is enough value in Harris' book to warrant such a strong recommendation. Still, I wonder (at the risk of inappropriate speculation) if the bias might be in play a little bit. In any case, his review has not sold me on the book, but maybe that's because I'm a bit more familiar with the philosophical issues than Harris' intended audience.