A. Linguistic relativity and related deeper disputes

Some words are incomplete without explicit or implicit reference to something further. An obvious example is “relevant.” Back in the 1960s, students often clamored for new courses that were “relevant” but without specifying what they were supposed to be relevant to. Some no doubt had the general idea that new courses should be relevant to their interests in stopping the war in Vietnam, reforming or destroying the existing government, living untraditional lifestyles, etc., but others seemed to think that the word “relevant” by itself expressed a complete idea. More commonly, people often talk about various things being important without saying to whom or for what they are significant. No doubt many could pause, if asked, and fill in the assumed or neglected qualification, but too often conversations proceed as if no further comment is required, some things just being important period, not for any specifiable purpose and not to you, or to me, or even to all human beings, to all rational beings, to all living things, etc. In these cases, we naturally wonder what the standards for evaluating such claims are and whether, after all, the claims make sense.

Thomas Hobbes says that “good” is always “relative to the person,” usually relative to the person that uses the word but relative to the sovereign authority in a state when the sovereign makes a ruling about what is to be regarded good.Footnote ⁵ At least part of the point seems to be that the word “good,” like “relative” and “important,” is incomplete by itself, and to make sense needs to be supplemented, for example, by specifying to or for whom, or from whose perspective, something is alleged to be good. We might add a variety of other possible supplements, such as “good for … (a purpose),” “a good … (kind of thing),” or “good from the point of view of … (a group, project, or institution with shared aims, etc.).” Similar things might be said of “valuable,” “desirable,” “ideal,” and other value terms (including negative terms such as “bad,” “undesirable,” “repugnant,” etc.). If we want a label, we might use linguistic relativity for this idea that familiar value terms, such as “good,” are incomplete without further specification.

Underlying any dispute about the linguistic point, however, is likely to be a deeper disagreement in moral theory or metaphysics. Plato held that there is a Form of Goodness that exists independently of existing earthly beings, their purposes, and their natural kinds. Hobbes made his linguistic point in a way that also expressed his antipathy to a Platonic conception of goodness. Unlike Plato, he thought that we call things good because we desire them, not that we desire them because (independently) they are good. Like Plato, G. E. Moore also implied that various things are good in themselves, or good period, as opposed to good for something, good to someone, good of a kind, etc. His underlying point was not merely linguistic but a controversial metaphysical thesis about the existence of goodness as a real nonrelational, nonnatural property.Footnote ⁶ Disputes about this go beyond linguistics and more properly fall under later questions about basic standards and justification.

B. Causal dependence on culture and history

When discussing whether morality is “relative,” one often hears the claim that moral beliefs are determined by cultural and historical factors that vary widely. This is an empirical thesis about the causes of moral beliefs. Its relevance to disputes about the truth or validity of universal moral principles is less clear than is often supposed. There are two main points to consider. First, if true, the thesis would suggest (but does not entail) that there are no moral principles that are universally believed. Although it is not necessary, it is perhaps natural to expect that variable causes will produce variable effects. So the causal dependence claim is significant partly because it can be taken to support a “relativist” position on the next issue on my list, that is, whether or not all moral beliefs vary with cultural and historical conditions. The second and more important point to consider, however, is that the causal dependence of moral beliefs on variable cultural and historical factors is thought to undermine moral theories committed to other sources of moral belief—intuition, conscience, innate reason, divine commands, or universally shared sentiments. It is a fallacy to argue that a belief must be false because it was caused by something other than evidence for its truth. Hence, tracing the causes of moral beliefs to variable cultural conditions unrelated to moral theorists' alleged sources does not prove that the normative principles of these theorists are false, but it tends to undermine moral theories that depend on alternative causal stories to explain how they know their principles are true or valid.

C. Diversity of many or all moral beliefs

As I just noted, sometimes the “relativist” position is an empirical thesis that what is accepted as morally right or good varies widely over times and places. A radical version would hold that there are no universally shared moral beliefs or values, and for every moral belief and value accepted in one culture there are incompatible beliefs and values in some other culture. That many particular moral beliefs diverge (for example, beliefs regarding sex, property, or the conduct of war) is undeniable, but it remains controversial whether there are some general moral values underlying the diversity of particular moral beliefs accepted in different cultures. This is an empirical question that cannot be easily settled. (A complication is that to assess evidence one must first take a position about what beliefs and norms count as moral.) When there is cultural variance in beliefs about facts such as the shape of the earth, there are ways to resolve the issue, showing that certain beliefs are true (the earth is round) and others mistaken (the earth is flat). Mere diversity of belief does not entail that there is no fact of the matter. The claim that all moral beliefs vary with cultural and historical conditions, then, does not entail that there are no true or valid universal moral beliefs. It does, however, raise doubts about moral theories committed to certain explanations of moral beliefs that would lead us to expect almost universal agreement about moral issues. If, for example, the theorists tell us that learning moral truths is like perception of colors or “seeing” simple mathematical propositions to be “self-evident,” then they will be hard-pressed to explain pervasive and persistent diversity of moral beliefs.

D. Normative dependence of specific moral rules and particular judgments on context

Some believe that there are fairly specific, substantive moral rules that are true or valid in all human conditions. Many understand the Ten Commandments this way. In a notorious late essay, Immanuel Kant argues that telling lies is always wrong, and even some who espouse “virtue ethics” hold that acts of certain kinds (such as torture or intentionally killing innocent persons) are always wrong.Footnote ⁷ By contrast, act-utilitarians maintain that specific conclusions about right and wrong depend on whatever will have (or is expected to have) the best consequences in the context. They typically affirm this act-utilitarian standard as true or valid but grant that the rightness or wrongness of specific acts can vary with the circumstances. For example, according to the act-utilitarian standard, malicious self-serving lies tend to be wrong because they cause more harm than good, though it would not have been wrong to tell a lie to a Nazi at the door to save the Jewish family hiding in one's attic. Even deontologists such as W. D. Ross hold that, although there are true universal principles of prima facie duty, particular judgments about one's “actual duty” in a situation depend also on the variable facts of the case at hand.Footnote ⁸ Contemporary moral “particularists” (for example, Jonathan Dancy) go even further, maintaining that correct moral judgments are determined by the particular facts of each case independently of moral principles.Footnote ⁹ Dancy does not deny that particular moral judgments are true, “objective,” and supported by reasons, but only that there are valid and useful moral generalizations. All of these theorists hold that there are true or valid particular moral judgments, as determined either by universal moral principles or by good reasons in a context. Their primary disagreement is about the scope of intermediate-level moral rules or principles—for example, those forbidding lying, promise-breaking, torturing prisoners, and engaging in extramarital sex.Footnote ¹⁰ Are these valid rules or true generalizations for everyone, or only within certain cultures, or only for certain groups or individuals, or not at all?

E. Questions about the scope and authority of basic standards and deliberative procedures

Those who hold that specific moral rules and judgments are true or false, or valid or invalid, depending on their context typically believe that there are more basic, general standards or procedures that explain this variability of specific rules and judgments. Both act-utilitarians and rule-utilitarians affirm such basic standards, and so do deontologists such as Ross and Kant.Footnote ¹¹ The standards or procedures are commonly regarded as true or valid for all competent adults. They are conceived as the ultimate test of what is moral, and for many they are also (or thereby) an ultimate rational authority. Opposing theorists (and some who are opposed to all theory) deny that there are universally valid basic moral standards or deliberative procedures that can guide and constrain our assessment of more particular moral rules and judgments (or make some true and others false).Footnote ¹² There are different ideas, of course, about what it means for basic standards to be true, valid, and rational.

F. The possibility of proof, justification, or defense of basic standards

Many who accept that there are true or valid basic moral standards offer arguments of various kinds in support of their position, but some simply pronounce their standards to be self-evident. Kant and John Stuart Mill are two prominent moral philosophers who took seriously the tasks of explaining a sort of “proof” or defense that they believed possible and of offering arguments to serve the purpose. There are different views, of course, about what would constitute a proof, justification, or defense, and many theorists are skeptical about whether these are possible in any form. What constitutes a proof, justification, or defense depends heavily on how a given moral theory construes moral judgments—as stating natural facts, expressing the speaker's attitudes, ascribing real nonnatural properties to things, applying necessary rational principles, and so on.

There are, no doubt, other questions and further distinctions in disputes about moral relativity and objectivity, but my aim here has been only to set the stage for discussion. The primary focus of the rest of this essay will be on the last two issues—more specifically, on a broadly Kantian position on whether there are general and basic moral standards that determine which more specific moral principles and judgments are justifiable and how, if at all, the more basic standards can be defended. These are difficult questions because they require not only interpreting and extending Kant's ideas but also discussing them in the terms of our contemporary debates in moral theory.

Before turning to the main two questions, however, here are a few brief comments on my broadly Kantian perspective on the other questions—comments which may explain why those are not my focus of concern. The questions in subsections B and C above are entirely matters for empirical investigation. Kant had opinions about them but no relevant expertise, and the main features of his moral theory, arguably, do not depend on his opinions on such empirical questions.Footnote ¹³ The main question in subsection A presumably belongs to traditional metaethics because it concerns the meaning, or proper use, of the word “good” and related terms. Kant's position on this matter could easily be misunderstood. He repeatedly writes of moral acts as “good in themselves” and thus does not buy into Hobbes's thesis that “good” is always “relative to the person” (more specifically, to the desires of the speaker or the command of the sovereign). In Kant's view, however, there is nothing, not even what he calls “good in itself,” that is “good” in a practical sense independent of its relation to actual or possible rational agents and their reasons for intending, willing, and acting. Kant does not believe in intrinsic values in the metaphysical sense that, for example, is central in G. E. Moore's intuitionist ethics.

Regarding the issue discussed in subsection D, Kant famously held that there are some specific moral principles that hold for all people at all times. His notorious example was an absolute prohibition on (serious) lying, but it is noteworthy that even famous advocates of “virtue ethics” (for example, Elizabeth Anscombe) apparently accept some completely inflexible universal principles about other matters, such as the intentional killing of innocent people.Footnote ¹⁴ On my broadly Kantian view, when (if ever) principles regarding lying and killing innocents are subject to exceptions must be determined by reflection from a more basic deliberative perspective. What this is and whether it is defensible—the questions in subsections E and F—are the topics for my remaining discussion.

A. The background: Critique of previous moral theories

The background consists of negative arguments to reject other (non-Kantian) views about the nature and source of morality. These arguments are most explicit in Kant's Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals and Critique of Practical Reason. Footnote ³⁰ Kant categorizes all previous moral theories into four types, which we may label “ethical egoism,” “moral sense theories,” “divine command theories,” and “perfectionism.” Having argued that moral concepts presuppose that “autonomy of the will” is the fundamental source of morality, Kant charges that all the previous moral theories are mistaken because they fail to acknowledge this fact. Here, I take it, Kant is engaging in what is now considered “metaethics,” for he maintains that his “analytical” argument in Groundwork II shows that the theories in question fail to understand common moral concepts and, further, that they leave us without any resources to argue (as Kant attempts in Groundwork III) for the rational authority of basic moral standards. Kant alleges that each type of moral theory is open to special objections, but the common error of each theory is to suppose that morality is something other than following principles that moral agents with practical reason and autonomy would give (or “legislate”) to themselves as constraining their social relations and personal choices. We do not need to accept the full Kantian idea of autonomy to appreciate his critique of other moral theories.

Roughly, the main negative points, reworked and modified for contemporary discussions, are these: (1) Some moral theories attempt to derive the content and rational authority of moral principles from the idea that, fundamentally, each person should (or has sufficient reason to) do whatever most effectively promotes his or her interests. This approach is inadequate, Kant argues, because it is a constitutive conception of moral requirements that they prescribe what we must do independently of whether they advance our own interests. Thus, even if only the pursuit of self-interest is rational, the requirements that would be prescribed by this method would not be moral requirements. Kant classifies egoistic theories as “empirical,” apparently because their advocates typically base them on psychological egoismFootnote ³¹ and because they make specific moral requirements vary widely with each person's empirical circumstances. Kant's main critical point, however, is that moral requirements cannot be derived from egoistic principles of any kind, rational or otherwise.

Further, (2) Kant also rejects moral sense theories, presumably in part for reasons that comparable theories tend to be rejected now. Such theories attempt to derive moral conclusions from patterns of moral feelings that human beings typically have in recurrent situations—for example, impartial spectators' feelings of disapproval of cruelty. The core objection is that judgments about what we ought to do are normative judgments about what we have good reasons to do, and these do not follow (without further premises) from facts about human sentiments, no matter how universal these may be. The point for contemporary discussions would be that empirical psychology alone cannot establish moral claims about what we ought to do, even though it can undermine ill-informed particular moral judgments and cast doubt on our capacity to live by certain alleged moral standards. Assuming (with Kant and others) that moral claims purport to give us good reasons to act, empirical studies by themselves cannot determine which moral claims, if any, are true or valid.

Turning to theories that Kant classifies as nonempirical or rational theories, (3) he rejects theories that attempt to derive moral requirements from theology on the ground that either their derivations are circular or the derivative commands are not moral. In other words, either the divine source is defined as giving only rational moral commands or else its commands are nonmoral because the authority comes from divine power, not reason. This objection also poses a challenge for any contemporary moral theory that rests the ultimate reasons for being moral on actual commands, secular or ecclesiastical. Similar considerations might apply to the assumption that the “force” of tradition, custom, or common opinion (alone) is the basis of moral requirements.

Finally, (4) Kant rejects forms of perfectionism that base the rational authority of moral requirements on their alleged promotion of the metaphysical value of “perfection,” an idea prominent in the work of Leibniz and Christian Wolff. This idea, Kant suggests, is too indeterminate to be action-guiding unless we interpret “perfection” in a morally loaded way that would make derivations of moral requirements from it circular or question-begging. Again, details aside, we can draw a message relevant in moral theory today. Metaphysical properties, whether labeled “perfection” or “intrinsic value” or whatever, are supposed to be features of the world as it is, not necessarily as it ought to be. What we have reason to do cannot be determined by such facts alone. Although we are not concerned with the sort of perfectionism that Kant explicitly rejected, his objection may be relevant to current theories that rest too easy with “intuitions” about which facts are practical “reasons” (or “considerations that favor” choices), in the absence of any general account of what constitutes reasons of various kinds.

Returning now to my review of Kantian strategies for defending alleged basic moral standards, the first main point (which provides background for more positive arguments) has been that certain other strategies are inadequate for the defense of Kantian basic standards and, equally important, that those strategies cannot by themselves refute Kantian proposals about what the rational moral standards are. This is a strong negative metaethical claim that, perhaps for good reasons, most contemporary Kantians do not wish to debate at length, but it is a background idea that, if correct, makes it easier to move on to positive considerations.

B. Argument that the perspective is presupposed in common moral judgments

Kant's main attempts to defend his conception of the basic moral standard are presented in the first two chapters of the Groundwork, where he argues that concepts deeply embedded in common morality presuppose the supreme principle expressed in his versions of the Categorical Imperative. His aim in these chapters is not to “establish” his basic principle or standard as rational but only to identify formulations of that standard that express its essential features and can serve to guide moral deliberation. If successful, these arguments taken by themselves would provide an important but limited “defense” of Kant's basic deliberative perspective as reflecting the indispensable core of our common morality, rather than mere custom or personal preference.

Kant's arguments do not start from a survey of moral opinions about particular matters, such as lying and suicide, but from relatively formal ideas about duty and a good will. An essential feature of these ideas, supposedly pervasive in ordinary moral thinking, is that being good and doing what one ought is, among other things, a matter of respecting constraints that we have sufficient reason to follow and not just because doing so advances our interests. This could be so, Kant argues, only if there is a basic rational standard, distinct from instrumental and prudential rationality, which can support more particular moral judgments. Moreover, Kant argues that the content of the basic standard(s) is expressible in different ways, which are supposed to be fundamentally the same. Most abstractly expressed, the standard is that we must (rationally) choose in a way that respects “universal laws.” As eventually interpreted, the standard is to respect the more specific principles of conduct that would be “legislated” by rational agents who have “autonomy of the will” and respect humanity in each person. The form of Kant's argument is conditional, and so is his conclusion. That is, essential concepts of common morality presuppose his basic deliberative perspective as the standard from which genuine moral obligations derive. This defense is distinct from his later attempt, in Groundwork III, to show that common morality is not mistaken in taking its requirements to be rational to follow.

Let us set aside details and doubts about Kant's actual argument (and my brief summary) and focus instead on the kind of positive strategy Kant uses to defend his attempt to articulate a basic moral standard. Kant's strategy is similar in some respects to Rawls's method of reflective equilibrium, but there are also important differences.Footnote ³² Some differences in their methods stem from differences in their ambitions and hopes for moral theory, but others reflect Rawls's greater respect for the empirical realities which influence and provide the context for moral reasoning. These differences understandably make Rawls's method more acceptable to contemporary philosophers, but the ways in which Rawls's method remains similar to Kant's are also instructive.

To set the background very briefly, Rawls draws from widely accepted, relatively uncontroversial assumptions about basic moral and political values to develop (or “construct”?) an appropriate idealized point of view (“the original position”) for assessing competing conceptions of justice.Footnote ³³ He proposes two general principles of justice and then argues that these would be preferred to certain alternatives from the perspective of the original position. Then Rawls argues that applications of the principles, in several stages, more or less match the “considered judgments of competent judges” in due reflection. When arguments from the appropriate deliberative standpoint (“the original position”) as this was initially defined lead to conflicts with our “considered judgments,” we need to reflect further on the definition and arguments for the original position, its application, and our own pretheoretical considered judgments. The task of seeking reflective equilibrium is to revise the arguments, refine the original position, or abandon our initial moral judgments, until we can find no more acceptable way to bring our various convictions into a coherent whole. Like Kant, Rawls argues from what he takes to be deep and pervasive ordinary moral ideas to support an account of an appropriate deliberative perspective for assessing more specific principles, and then he illustrates the application of the deliberative perspective by applying it to several practical problems.Footnote ³⁴

Significant differences, of course, should be noted. Most obviously, Kant's ambition was to present a comprehensive moral standard, whereas Rawls aims to construct a deliberative perspective for a more limited project. That is, even in A Theory of Justice, Rawls constructs his “original position” primarily to assess competing, historically prominent conceptions of justice as they apply to the basic structure of well-ordered, cooperative, closed societies—in particular, with regard to how the basic structure affects the distribution of primary social goods. Later, in Political Liberalism, he restricts his project further to “political conceptions” of justice that reflect background assumptions common in Western liberal democracies.Footnote ³⁵ A significant feature of Rawls's arguments for his deliberative procedure for assessing principles is that, unlike Kant, Rawls does not try to make his case by drawing out the implications of a few, relatively formal and allegedly essential features of common morality (such as the idea of duty and the value of a good will). Rawls rightly acknowledges more places where empirical facts are relevant to his arguments, and he is obviously more aware of the possibility that revisions may be necessary.

Important similarities remain, however—and for good reasons. Both Kant and Rawls see moral theory as a project with a structure that distinguishes basic deliberative procedures from derivative principles, and both distinguish arguments for the deliberative procedure from arguments from the procedure to derivative principles. Although both rely on assumptions about common moral opinions, neither treats these opinions as self-evident or infallible. Despite his repeated warnings about not basing moral theory on examples, Kant (like Rawls) draws out the (supposed) implications of his principles as some sort of confirmation of them.Footnote ³⁶ Neither Kant nor Rawls addresses his theory to radical moral skeptics or pretends to have arguments sufficient to show that living a moral life is necessarily in one's interest. Finally, both Kant and Rawls seem to realize that, in the end, defense of their projects and results depends on a different sort of appeal to each reader—the subject to which I turn next.

C. Appeal to each rational agent's awareness or acceptance of the basic standards

A final strategy for defending an account of basic moral deliberative standards is suggested by Kant's attempts to address the question that he so dramatically poses at the end of Groundwork II. That is, even if an account is demonstratively reflective of common moral ideas, is it really rationally necessary to accept it? Might it not be that morality's claim to be rational is just an illusion? Kant tried in Groundwork III to meet the challenge by arguing that whenever we act for reasons, we cannot help but see ourselves as free in a sense that ultimately commits us to the Categorical Imperative.Footnote ³⁷ To meet the objection that he may have argued in a circle, he adds that in the theoretical use of reason (for example, in scientific investigations) we must take ourselves to be following reason independently of causal determination, and this again commits us to the Categorical Imperative.Footnote ³⁸

Later, in his Critique of Practical Reason, Kant reverses his argument, apparently conceding the inadequacy of the early arguments. He then proposes that consciousness of the moral law is “a fact of reason,” adequate for practical purposes.Footnote ³⁹ Scholars debate what he meant, but apparently at least part of the idea is that for us, human beings who take ourselves to be rational moral agents, no further argument is needed because, try as we will to deny and escape moral requirements, we cannot. That is, although self-deception, special pleading, and moral disagreements are all too common, in serious honest reflection we cannot consistently regard ourselves as rationally entitled systematically to ignore the claims of others as not (rationally) binding on us. The rational authority that supports such claims, Kant suggests, is inevitably recognized as the authority of our own reason, however much we may wish to deny it. This is not presented as a demonstration, or a claim to perceive self-evident rational truths, or an appeal to moral feelings. As I understand Kant's point, it is an appeal to individuals, in their own first-person reflections, to acknowledge that they are under moral obligations or at least cannot help but conceive of themselves in this way. Arguably, despite Kant's own views, such reflections should not be used to justify assuming that others are as committed to morality as we are—assuming this, for example, when we are inclined to justify harsh moralistic treatment of criminals without regard to their actual background and attitudes. Nevertheless, Kant apparently thought his appeal to each person's moral consciousness a relevant kind of response to certain kinds of doubts about morality, given the fact (argued earlier) that contrary claims about rational choice could not be proved by science, theology, metaphysics, or social practice.

Kant's expectations for the practical success of this appeal to each person's moral consciousness were higher, I suspect, than the expectations most of us share. This is especially so if the person's moral consciousness is supposed to acknowledge Kant's particular statements of the moral law and associated ideas about freedom of will. But at least when our aim and context is practical, rather than an attempt to establish a universal truth of metaphysics or abstract moral theory, we may find that the best we can do, and all that is needed, is to appeal to the commitments of each rational moral agent. If agents profess to deliberate and debate in terms of shared reasons, reasons about which others outside their circle should care, then they may be able to see, on due reflection, that their moral and reason-based commitments exceed their wishes to escape moral obligation. And perhaps a more modest, reasonable contemporary account of moral obligations (compared to some ideas in Kant's actual texts) can facilitate this process, and arguably it can be a (practically) rational process. Rawls's appeals to each reader to consider, revise, and endorse his theory of justice is similar and, in my view, remains worthy of serious consideration.