Tomasello's new and illuminating theory accounts for many otherwise mysterious aspects of our human sense of obligation. In particular, humans (including children, but not apes) are motivated to share rewards equally with (and only with) partners in joint intentional collaborations, and they object to violations of this norm. He writes, “Most basically, as children participate in joint intentional collaboration, they see that: (1) both participants are equal causal forces in producing the mutually intended outcome; (2) both partners could switch roles as needed; and, most crucially, (3) the standards of performance for each role (so-called “role ideals,” the first social shared normative standards) are impartial in the sense that they apply to anyone in that role” (sect. 2.1.3, para. 4). Later steps are then presented as “scaled-up versions of the joint commitments characteristic of joint intentional collaboration at the first step of our account” (sect. 2.2.2.2, para. 4).
This insightful picture does fit many interactions, including those in cited experiments that Tomasello designed, but it is still far from complete (no surprise!). As Tomasello notes (note 3), children also interact with adults whom they are expected to obey. This obligation to obey superiors does not seem to spring from collaboration among equals. Moreover, collaborators are not (1) “equal causal forces” when one works harder and produces more. We might sense an obligation to show equal respect of some kind to such collaborators, but they are usually not seen as deserving equal parts of the products of the collaboration. Furthermore, partners often cannot (2) “switch roles,” such as when a quarterback (or a coach) cannot play lineman on an American football team. And even when two people can play the same role, the same standards do not always (3) “apply to anyone in that role.” When teenagers volunteer to cook dinner, they are often not expected to cook as well as their parents. My point is not only that adults do not treat each other as equals when they misbehave as in bullying, domination, and racism. In addition, children – and especially adults – accept lots of inequality as morally permitted, desirable, or even obligatory, as in unequal power relations between bosses and employees, generals and privates, judges and defendants, police and citizens, parents and children, and even wealthy and poor citizens, in some cases. Equality is seen as obligatory at some levels but not others.
Tomasello might try to explain these inequalities in moral obligations in terms of collective agreements and commitments, which can lead to social norms and roles that are supposed to create special rights and obligations for some people that others in the same group do not possess equally. However, not all of the parties to these collective agreements are equal, and these roles often do not seem to arise from collaborations between equals. What collaboration between children and parents gives rise to the obligation of children to obey their parents? And are underprivileged groups really equal partners in the collective agreements that give police power over them? And are employee and employer equal when one accepts a job from the other or makes laws governing such contracts? Tomasello is right to bring up social norms and roles, but it is not clear how they fit within his simple model of collaboration among equals or his “scaled-up” account of “objective” obligation.
This problem does not refute Tomasello's central claims. It only shows that he needs to add some explanation of inequalities in obligations. One promising way to supplement Tomasello's theory would draw upon Edna Ullman-Margalit's unfortunately neglected model of “norms of partiality” (Ullman-Margalit Reference Ullman-Margalit1977). Very roughly, the basic idea is that some (not all) norms arise from negotiations among unequals in which privileged leaders use their greater power and wealth to solidify and extend their personal advantages, while underprivileged subordinates hold out for as much as they can get under the circumstances, even if that is far less than equality. This origin in inequality and cultural negotiation can explain certain features of those norms of partiality that are hard to explain in terms of collaboration among equals.
One example (not endorsed by Ullman-Margalit but suggested by others) tries to explain why obligations to help the needy (whether or not they are not partners in collaborations) are generally seen as weaker than obligations not to cause harm. Although some philosophers disagree, studies have shown that most people judge killing a beggar to be worse (and to violate a stronger obligation) than failing to help a beggar even when that means letting the beggar starve. This feature of our sense of obligation could be explained if it arises from negotiations between unequals. The rich and powerful discourage a strong sense of obligation to help the needy, because they have much to lose and little to gain from that obligation; but they encourage a strong sense of obligation not to harm, because they are vulnerable to being harmed. They can be killed just like a beggar, even if they have guards. And the preferences of the rich and powerful shape our intuitions about the relative strength of these obligations because the rich and powerful control news sources, churches, governments, and other institutions that shape the sense of obligation in most cultures.
I am not at all sure that this story is accurate or succeeds in accounting for this feature of our sense of obligation. My main point is only that Tomasello's theory is limited and incomplete until he adds some new element to account for unequal obligations and also for peculiar features of our sense of obligation that might have arisen from inequalities in power and wealth. Some story about negotiation among unequals (as Ullman-Margalit suggested) could fit that bill, although Tomasello might have a very different explanation. In any case, I look forward to hearing how he explains our sense of obligation in situations of inequality.
Tomasello's new and illuminating theory accounts for many otherwise mysterious aspects of our human sense of obligation. In particular, humans (including children, but not apes) are motivated to share rewards equally with (and only with) partners in joint intentional collaborations, and they object to violations of this norm. He writes, “Most basically, as children participate in joint intentional collaboration, they see that: (1) both participants are equal causal forces in producing the mutually intended outcome; (2) both partners could switch roles as needed; and, most crucially, (3) the standards of performance for each role (so-called “role ideals,” the first social shared normative standards) are impartial in the sense that they apply to anyone in that role” (sect. 2.1.3, para. 4). Later steps are then presented as “scaled-up versions of the joint commitments characteristic of joint intentional collaboration at the first step of our account” (sect. 2.2.2.2, para. 4).
This insightful picture does fit many interactions, including those in cited experiments that Tomasello designed, but it is still far from complete (no surprise!). As Tomasello notes (note 3), children also interact with adults whom they are expected to obey. This obligation to obey superiors does not seem to spring from collaboration among equals. Moreover, collaborators are not (1) “equal causal forces” when one works harder and produces more. We might sense an obligation to show equal respect of some kind to such collaborators, but they are usually not seen as deserving equal parts of the products of the collaboration. Furthermore, partners often cannot (2) “switch roles,” such as when a quarterback (or a coach) cannot play lineman on an American football team. And even when two people can play the same role, the same standards do not always (3) “apply to anyone in that role.” When teenagers volunteer to cook dinner, they are often not expected to cook as well as their parents. My point is not only that adults do not treat each other as equals when they misbehave as in bullying, domination, and racism. In addition, children – and especially adults – accept lots of inequality as morally permitted, desirable, or even obligatory, as in unequal power relations between bosses and employees, generals and privates, judges and defendants, police and citizens, parents and children, and even wealthy and poor citizens, in some cases. Equality is seen as obligatory at some levels but not others.
Tomasello might try to explain these inequalities in moral obligations in terms of collective agreements and commitments, which can lead to social norms and roles that are supposed to create special rights and obligations for some people that others in the same group do not possess equally. However, not all of the parties to these collective agreements are equal, and these roles often do not seem to arise from collaborations between equals. What collaboration between children and parents gives rise to the obligation of children to obey their parents? And are underprivileged groups really equal partners in the collective agreements that give police power over them? And are employee and employer equal when one accepts a job from the other or makes laws governing such contracts? Tomasello is right to bring up social norms and roles, but it is not clear how they fit within his simple model of collaboration among equals or his “scaled-up” account of “objective” obligation.
This problem does not refute Tomasello's central claims. It only shows that he needs to add some explanation of inequalities in obligations. One promising way to supplement Tomasello's theory would draw upon Edna Ullman-Margalit's unfortunately neglected model of “norms of partiality” (Ullman-Margalit Reference Ullman-Margalit1977). Very roughly, the basic idea is that some (not all) norms arise from negotiations among unequals in which privileged leaders use their greater power and wealth to solidify and extend their personal advantages, while underprivileged subordinates hold out for as much as they can get under the circumstances, even if that is far less than equality. This origin in inequality and cultural negotiation can explain certain features of those norms of partiality that are hard to explain in terms of collaboration among equals.
One example (not endorsed by Ullman-Margalit but suggested by others) tries to explain why obligations to help the needy (whether or not they are not partners in collaborations) are generally seen as weaker than obligations not to cause harm. Although some philosophers disagree, studies have shown that most people judge killing a beggar to be worse (and to violate a stronger obligation) than failing to help a beggar even when that means letting the beggar starve. This feature of our sense of obligation could be explained if it arises from negotiations between unequals. The rich and powerful discourage a strong sense of obligation to help the needy, because they have much to lose and little to gain from that obligation; but they encourage a strong sense of obligation not to harm, because they are vulnerable to being harmed. They can be killed just like a beggar, even if they have guards. And the preferences of the rich and powerful shape our intuitions about the relative strength of these obligations because the rich and powerful control news sources, churches, governments, and other institutions that shape the sense of obligation in most cultures.
I am not at all sure that this story is accurate or succeeds in accounting for this feature of our sense of obligation. My main point is only that Tomasello's theory is limited and incomplete until he adds some new element to account for unequal obligations and also for peculiar features of our sense of obligation that might have arisen from inequalities in power and wealth. Some story about negotiation among unequals (as Ullman-Margalit suggested) could fit that bill, although Tomasello might have a very different explanation. In any case, I look forward to hearing how he explains our sense of obligation in situations of inequality.