Introduction
(Note: Non-relevant text has been removed from
this page.)
From: E. Soifer, ed., Ethical Issues: Perspectives for
Canadians, 3rd edition. Broadview Press, 2009.
There is another way in which the different
issues are linked as well. This is that they are all
moral issues. (Note: many people distinguish
between “moral” and “ethical,” and the
distinction is drawn in a variety of different ways.
For the pur-poses of this book, however, I see no
need to draw such a distinction, and so these
words will be used interchangeably.) “Moral” is
another word notori-ously difficult to define. I
will take it that calling an issue a “moral” issue
implies that it has something to do with how
people should act; with what is right or wrong,
or what states of affairs are good or bad. In this
broad sense, it seems everyone has some moral
beliefs—people who say they “don’t believe in
morality” usually mean that they do not accept
the particular moral “rules” dominant in their
societies at the time, not that they have no
beliefs what soever about what sorts of things
people should or should not do.
It is not necessary, of course, for individuals
to have a fully worked out moral system, or a
firmly established set of moral rules. People can
function perfectly well with only a vague set of
moral be-liefs or intuitions. Nevertheless,
philosophers have often tried to provide some
sort of systematic account of morality. There is
considerable debate within philosophy about
whether it is even possible to develop such a
“moral theory,” and I do not want to pre-judge
that issue here. Nevertheless, I believe it to be
useful for any reader interested in these issues to
have some sort of background un-derstanding
of how the issues might be described in terms of
various moral theories. (For one thing,
x
Ethical Issues
Introduction
writers on these issues often refer to these theories, assuming a background knowledge. For
example, writers on pornography might refer to
a “utilitarian” consideration of the consequences
of its publication, without explaining the moral
theory this word describes.) Accordingly, this
book begins with an introduction to some of the
most influential strands of moral theory. I leave it
to the reader to decide how these might apply to
the issues at hand.
Utilitarianism
Perhaps the single most influential moral theory
over the past couple of centuries has been one
called “utilitarianism.” One of its best known advocates, John Stuart Mill, described utilitarians in
the 1860s as people who believe that “actions are
right in proportion as they tend to promote happiness; wrong as they tend to produce the reverse
of happiness.”1 The basic intuition here seems to
be that, if anything matters, happiness does, and
it makes sense to try to get as much as possible of
what matters. There are other theories that tell us
to aim at the maximum possible amount of some
other thing held to have value, such as beauty,
knowledge, etc. Any such theories are commonly
called “consequentialist,” because they claim that
the rightness of an act depends on its having the
right sort of consequences. Utilitarianism, then,
is a particular form of consequentialist theory,
which states that the value to be maximized is
happiness (or “utility”). Utilitarianism adds to this
an emphasis on equality—the belief that each
entity capable of happiness is entitled to having
that happiness counted equally with all others. Of
course one might not get what one wants, if more
people want something else, or indeed if only a
few people want something else, but they want
it very much. Still, nobody’s well-being is simply
to be ignored. Therefore, according to utilitarianism, the way to decide which action to pursue
is to add up the increase in happiness for each
individual affected by the action (subtracting all
unhappiness, if there is any) for each possible
action, and do whichever action will produce the
most happiness.
Before getting into more detail about utilitarianism, it is worth mentioning another theory
which is also concerned with bringing about
happiness and which is commonly called “ethical
egoism.” According to this view, the right thing for
individuals to do is to aim at their own happiness,
whether or not that coincides with the happiness
of others. This view should be separated from
a view known as “psychological egoism,” which
holds that, as a matter of fact, human beings
always do try to act in their own interests. Psychological egoism makes an empirical claim about
human nature and how people do act (although
it is sometimes hard to see what evidence could
possibly be taken to disprove the claim, which
casts doubt on its credentials as an empirical claim
at all). Ethical egoism, on the other hand, makes a
claim about how people should act, and indeed it
might seem ethical egoism depends on the falsity
of psychological egoism, since it makes little sense
to say one should act in a particular way if it is in
fact impossible to act in any other way.
Some people would deny that ethical ego­ism
is a “moral” theory at all, maintaining that morality requires people to be self-sacrificing, at least
sometimes. (Egoism does recommend that people
sacrifice their current interests for their long-term
interests, e.g., by forcing oneself to study for an
exam so as to further one’s career, even when one
is more inclined to watch a movie on TV. But that
might not be considered self-sacrificing.) In any
case, insofar as egoism tries to provide a guide for
how people should live, it deserves some mention
when discussing morality.
One argument often put forward for ethical
egoism is that, if people pursue their own interests, everyone will be better off. This could be because each person knows his or her own interests
best, and so will be in the best position to achieve
them, or because such an approach would avoid
the ill effects of people’s “butting in” and generally
interfering with others’ business. It has also been
suggested along these lines that charity is always
Ethical Issues
xi
Introduction
demeaning to the recipient, and that only ethical
egoism can avoid some such element of charity.
Of course, all of these are empirical claims,
which might turn out to be false. For example,
there could be cases where people are not the
best judges of what is in their best interests, or it
may be that such an egoist approach might turn
out to be in the interests of some at the expense
of others, rather than being better for everyone.
But the main thing to note here is that these
arguments are not really arguments for egoism at all, so much as arguments for a particular
view of utilitarianism. The expressed goal here is
“everyone’s happiness,” or “maximum happiness,”
not just one’s own good. It is simply that having
each pursue his or her own good is held to be the
best means for bringing about the utilitarian goal.
There may be other arguments which really are for
ethical egoism directly, but for now I will return to
utilitarianism.
There is an obvious appeal to a theory that
tells us to aim at maximum happiness, but there
are problems as well. This is not the place to recite
all of the arguments for and against this theory,
but I will touch on some of the most important
aspects of the ongoing debate.
The first point to be noted is that, in order to
use this theory, we have to have a pretty good idea
of what sorts of things contribute to a person’s
happiness. Although everyone has at least some
rough idea about this, there are certainly cases
where people might disagree; for instance, about
whether a particular action has made a given individual “better off” or not. Utilitarians generally try
to explain what is meant by “happiness” either in
terms of some pleasant mental state, or in terms
of having one’s desires satisfied. (Note that there
may be cases in which these accounts have to
separate, such as times when satisfaction of one’s
desires does not produce the mental state one expected.) Some people, however, might claim that
people can be better off in one condition than another, whether they realize it or not. For example,
someone might think a person is better off doing
something active with one’s leisure time, rather
xii
than sitting around watching television. Calling
this sort of being better off a state of “happiness”
might involve stretching the term a bit, but nevertheless there have been “utilitarians” who have
claimed that happiness along these lines is what
is to be maximized.
Another problem utilitarianism faces is in
deciding how to compare one person’s happiness with another’s. To take a simple case: if two
children each want the last candy, how can one
decide which one to give it to? Utilitarianism
seems to say we should give it to the one who will
enjoy it more, but it may be very hard to tell which
one that is. When it comes to making decisions
for large numbers of people, the problem is even
greater. If a town has to decide whether to build a
theatre or a gymnasium, each of which would be
used by different people, how can we compare
the amounts of happiness involved in either decision? These problems are compounded by the
fact that we cannot foresee all the consequences
of our actions, and so can’t even tell exactly how
many people will be affected in the long run.
These are certainly problems utilitarians
should consider, but they may not be strong
enough to destroy the theory. Perhaps utilitarians can claim that all we need for guiding our
decisions are rough estimates. After all, nobody
claims that human beings will always succeed in
doing the right moral thing all the time. Perhaps
trying to bring about the most happiness is all
we can demand. And it seems clear that people
often do use such considerations in trying to
make decisions. For example, if several people
want to go out to dinner together and are trying
to decide where to go, it seems likely they will use
elements of utilitarian reasoning. If some people
like Chinese food and others prefer Italian, for
example, often the decision will be made by some
sort of estimate of which choice will maximize the
overall happiness.
Even if utilitarianism is able to deal with these
problems, however, it is still not off the hook. One
of the most persistent criticisms of utilitarianism
has been that it fails to give the required promi-
Ethical Issues
Introduction
nence to considerations of justice. Utilitarianism
says that utility is to be maximized overall, but
what if the way to achieve that is to sacrifice some
individual (or group of individuals) so that others
may enjoy greater benefits? Is it all right to do so,
or do the individuals involved have rights that
they not be treated in certain ways?
A classic example of the sort of question at
issue here goes as follows: suppose you are a law
officer, and you are holding a person in custody.
There is a mob outside threatening to riot unless
you turn this person over to them, in which case
the person will be abused and ultimately killed.
You know that this person has done no wrong,
and the mob would therefore be killing an innocent person. On the other hand, you know that if
you do not turn the person over, there will be no
way to prevent the mob from rioting (assume it
is too late for any rational persuasion). If they do
riot, there is a very good chance not only of a great
deal of damage to property in the neighbourhood, but also that more innocent people (say,
local residents) will be killed in the chaos. Assuming that each person’s life would contain equal
happiness, it seems that the way to maximize
utility would be by turning over this individual,
thereby stopping the riot and saving the lives of
some innocent residents. Yet many people believe
that the person in custody has a right not to be
treated in this way, and that one is not allowed
to sacrifice this one person for the overall good.
What should one do in such a case?
Cases such as the one involving the innocent
person in custody are often used as criticisms of
utilitarianism. The claim is that the only way to
maximize happiness overall is by doing something which we are not morally allowed to do.
Since utilitarianism tells us to maximize happiness
overall, it tells us to do something we are not morally allowed to do. No theory which sometimes
tells us to do what is wrong can be the ultimate
test of what is right.
Utilitarians can respond to such a challenge in
several ways. One way is to accept that the theory
would tell us to perform actions which would be
commonly considered wrong, but claim that they
in fact are not wrong in the rare circumstances in
which the theory says to do them. Indeed, it might
be asked how we can know with certainty that
certain actions (such as sacrificing an innocent
person) are always wrong. How reliable are our
intuitions? A second sort of response a utilitarian
might offer is to deny that the proposed “wrong”
action really would have the best consequences. It
might be claimed, for example, that the situation
as described fails to take into account long-term
consequences, such as loss of trust in the law, or
the guilt members of the angry mob would feel
when the truth came out at a later time. Perhaps
killing the innocent person appears to maximize
happiness only when one fails to look at the big
picture. One final sort of response utilitarians
might use would be to argue that there are adequate resources within the theory to prohibit it
from requiring any grossly wrong actions.
One version of utilitarianism which has been
claimed to have such resources is some­­times
known as “indirect utilitarianism,” the best-known
version of which is called “rule util­i­tar­ian­ism.”2
(The account of utilitarianism discussed above
might then be called “direct” or “act” utilitarianism, for contrast.) The rule utilitarian believes that
one should figure out which rules, if generally
followed, would bring about the most happiness.
When faced with a particular decision, this view
then states that one should simply follow the rule
which applies to the situation in which one finds
oneself. For instance, it seems likely that a rule
saying “do not kill,” if followed, would have good
consequences overall, and thus it is one it seems
a rule utilitarian would be likely to endorse. In the
sort of “innocent person” case above, then, the
rule utilitarian might simply note that that rule
applies, and accordingly decide not to kill the innocent person, without needing to calculate the
consequences in this particular case. This might
be thought particularly valuable because people
are not likely to be able to evaluate consequences
accurately in the heat of the moment when action
is called for.
Ethical Issues
xiii
Introduction
Act utilitarians have two main reasons for
resisting rule utilitarianism. The first is that one
may be virtually certain that following the generally good rule would not have the best consequences in some situations in which one finds
oneself. Should one stick to the rule anyway in
such a situation? What would be the justification
for doing so? Since the purpose of the rule was
to bring about the best consequences, it might
seem odd to follow it even in cases in which it is
not likely to fulfill its purpose. Indeed, philosopher J.J.C. Smart has claimed that adhering to
rules in such situations amounts to “rule-worship,” and should be dismissed as irrational.3 Thus
the act utilitarian claims that rules may be useful
as general guidelines, but following a rule can
never be an adequate substitute for calculating
consequences.
The second, related, objection act utilitarians
raise against rule utilitarianism has to do with
the specificity of the rules the rule utilitarian
advocates. The rule “do not kill” does seem, at
first glance, likely to maximize happiness overall,
but careful thought reveals a number of possible
exceptions. Perhaps the rule should be “do not kill,
except in self-defense,” or “except when killing an
enemy soldier while fighting a just war,” and so on.
If there are too many exceptions, the rule might
prove unmanageable for everyday use, and yet
there might seem to be compelling reasons to allow such exceptions. Ultimately, the act utilitarian
might claim that the rule would have to become
something like “do not kill, except when utility
would be maximized by doing so,” but that is not
really anything different from what an act utilitarian would say. In other words, it could be claimed
that rule utilitarianism “collapses” back into act
utilitarianism.
Both act and rule utilitarians believe that
the ultimate moral standard lies in good consequences, specifically maximizing happiness.
Theories which maintain that there are some
moral considerations which do not depend on the
consequences of our actions are sometimes called
“deonto­logical” theories.
xiv
Deontological Theories
Deontological theories do not have to say consequences are always unimportant, but they do
have to say that the rightness of an action at least
sometimes depends on qualities of the action itself, rather than its consequences. A deontologist
might claim, for example, that it is always wrong
to tell a lie, even if that lie will not harm anyone.
Deontological theories often begin with either
rights or duties. In recent political debate, it has
become popular to try to draw support for one’s
cause by describing it in terms of rights. Thus, people make claims ranging from “a right to treatment
as an equal” and a “right to life,” through “animal
rights” and “rights to national self-­determination,”
to “rights to a university education” and “rights to
holidays with pay.” Often, people on each side of
an issue claim rights which seem to conflict with
those claimed by the other side.
In philosophy, some care must be taken in
introducing a rights claim. It may be that some
moral claims cannot properly be put in terms of
rights. What sorts of entities can have rights? Must
right-holders be individuals, or can there be collective rights? What is the relationship between
interests and rights? Must rights be the sort of
things one can choose whether or not to exercise,
such as the right to free expression? Can there be
“special” rights which belong to some people and
not others (for example, rights police officers must
have, but others should not)? And what happens
when rights claims conflict?
It has been suggested that rights claims
should be understood in terms of several elements. One way to do this is in terms of a formula
such as the following: “X has a right to Y against Z
in virtue of V.” In these terms, if people make rights
claims, it is permissible to press them to explain
exactly what is to be substituted for each of the
letters in the formula. Who has the right (X)? How
did they qualify for it (V)? What is it a right to (Y)?
And what does its existence imply by way of duties for others (Z)? With regard to the last of these
questions, it is also possible to ask whether others
Ethical Issues
Introduction
have a “positive” duty to provide something for
the right-holder (e.g., health care), or merely a
“negative” duty not to interfere (e.g., with one’s
right to express oneself ). Raising these questions
will often make rights claims less obvious than
they may have seemed at first.
The other common forms of deonto­logical
theories take “duties” as the central notion of
morality. Certainly much of our common moral
discourse can be described in terms of duties.
For example, one might assert we have a duty
to refrain from murdering, or a duty not to make
promises we do not intend to keep. It is possible,
though, that some aspects of morality are more
difficult to describe in this way. For example, if we
see someone trapped in a burning building, do
we have a duty to try to rescue him or her, even
at the risk of our own lives, or is that something
which it would be nice to do, but which is “beyond
the call of duty”?
Even if there is a way to describe all of our
moral beliefs in terms of duties, however, there is
still a problem. How do we come to know which
duties we have? Where do they come from? This
problem becomes more acute when we discover
that different duties conflict with each other, and
that people (both in different cultures and within
a single one) disagree about which duties they
have. For example, if I have promised to keep a
secret, but it turns out someone I care about will
be harmed if I do, I may be unsure about what to
do. It may seem that in these sorts of cases I have
two conflicting duties, and I need some way of
knowing which one should give way. Similarly, at
the inter-personal level, people might disagree
about whether there is a duty to abstain from premarital sex, for example. How are we to decide
which is right in such cases?
Intuitionism
Some deontological theorists have claimed that
we have a faculty called “intuition” which informs
us about our duties. This faculty is often seen as
being similar to our senses. Just as sight can per-
ceive colour and hearing can perceive sound, so
intuition might be said to perceive moral facts.
One problem many people have with this
view is that there may not be any moral “facts” out
there waiting to be perceived. The most common
objection, however, is that talk of this faculty does
not really explain how different people can have
such different moral beliefs, nor indeed how it can
come to be that whole cultures can agree within
themselves, but disagree with other cultures.
The intuitionist can reply that some people are
simply better than others at using this faculty, just
as some people may have better vision or hearing
than others. Perhaps also the faculty needs to be
“trained” by proper upbringing. Such a reply raises
questions, however, about how we can tell which
people are using the faculty “correctly” and which
are not. Furthermore, a person who is uncertain
how to act is not given much useful guidance if
told simply to follow his or her intuition. For these
sorts of reasons, many people do not find this
intuitionist approach satisfactory.
Kantian Ethics
How else might we learn which duties we have?
Perhaps the most influential deontological theorist of all has been eighteenth-century philosopher Immanuel Kant, who believed that we could
discover our moral duties through the use of
reason alone. He suggested that any time we
are contemplating an action we should apply
a rational test to it, and if it fails the test, it is an
action we are not allowed to perform. This test,
known as the “categorical imperative,” has a few
different formulations. The best known of these
are, first, that we should act as if the principle
we were acting on were to become a universal
law,4 and, second, that we must “treat human­ity
... always at the same time as an end and never
simply as a means.”5 There has been a great deal
of debate about how these principles are to be
interpreted. One way to understand the first one
might be by considering the question often raised
when someone does a thing of which we do not
Ethical Issues
xv
Introduction
approve, which is “What if everyone did that?” (or,
perhaps, “How would you like it if people did that
to you?”). The second one might be understood as
a requirement that we treat people with respect
and concern for their integrity as people.
Few would deny that these are good general
guidelines for action, but many would question
whether they give a full account of morality, or
whether they are indeed given by reason alone.
For example, one might ask what it means to
treat a person as an end and not simply as a
means. Does that mean we should consider each
person’s well-being before we act? But that is
exactly what a utilitarian would say, and Kant’s
deontological approach was supposed to solve
some of the problems utilitarianism runs into.
And as for the “univer­salizing” version of the test,
does it matter how we describe the circumstances? If we describe a given action as an act of lying, then it would seem we could not want that
universalized. But if we describe it as an act of
lying to a would-be murderer so as to save the
life of a friend, we might come to a very different
conclusion.
It is not clear whether a rational test such as
the categorical imperative can provide us with all
the moral guidance we might want. Kant’s principles have unquestionably inspired many moral
philosophers, but there is still no consensus as to
how successfully he addressed the pressing ethical questions. It is also not clear whether there is
another way to discover which duties apply, such
as through a faculty of intuition. These deontological approaches raise some promising ideas, but
cannot be said to have provided unquestionable
solutions to the problems of moral philosophy.
Virtue Ethics
As we have seen, utilitarianism and deon­tol­­ogy
each has its appeal, but each has problems as
well. Many philosophers continue to believe that
one of these approaches is the best one to take,
and the debate rages on. Others, however, have
decided that some alternative must be found.
xvi
One such alternative which has been around
for centuries but which has become increasingly
popular in recent years is what is often known as
“virtue ethics.” This approach focuses on the state
of character of a morally good person, rather than
on a state of affairs (as utilitarianism seems to do)
or on particular actions (as deontology seems to
do). According to this view, the primary usage of
moral terminology should be to evaluate individuals’ characters as “good” or “bad,” where a “good”
person is one who chooses actions because they
are of the right moral kind. Such a person acts
out of a disposition to do what is morally right,
rather than by weighing the alternatives of what
one could do and applying a general principle to
decide between them.
One way of conceptualizing the difference
between virtue ethics and the other types of ethical views discussed here is in terms of the central
questions asked. Whereas the other views seem
to focus on the question of what one should do,
virtue ethics focuses on the question of what sort
of person one should be. This might be thought
to have the advantage of putting moral actions
within the context of entire lives, rather than seeing ethical life as a series of unconnected actions.
This in turn might make sense of a number of
types of moral judgements we actually make.
Clearly, we often do make judgements about
people’s ethical character (e.g., “she’s dishonest,”
or “he’s weak-willed”). What’s more, these judgements can be made even if there are some actions
by the person which do not fit with the characterization. For example, a generous person may
sometimes act selfishly, and still be considered a
generous person. We might say the selfish action
is “out of character” for that person.
Another element of our moral judgements
which relates to character is the element of integrity. People differ from each other in terms of
their individual projects and commitments and
their personal relationships. The sorts of ethical
views discussed above seemed to require the
same action from anyone placed in the same circumstances. Perhaps morality should not be seen
Ethical Issues
Introduction
as “agent-neutral” in this sense, however. Perhaps
one’s obligations depend upon facts about who
one is, as an individual. It might make a difference, for example, whether one is the parent
of one of the people affected by an action, or
whe­ther one is a committed pacifist, or whether
one has devoted hours to studying a particular
type of architecture. To demand that everyone be
required to act the same way in order to be moral
might be to require people to act in ways which
conflict with their deeply held convictions. Such a
demand might be seen, however, to conflict with
the integrity of the individual, and thus to miss a
major aspect of our moral experience.
One specific ethical outlook which might be
considered a kind of virtue ethics is the “Ethic of
Care” approach, which deserves special mention.
This approach is ­often associated with feminism,
and suggested differences between women and
men (either biologically based or as a result of
socialization). In particular, it has been claimed
that women tend to think about moral situations
largely in terms of caring responses to individuals
involved, whereas men are more likely to try to
apply general abstract principles. It has been further stated that traditional consequentialist and
deontological theories have not sufficiently appreciated the value of emotional caring responses
(thereby excluding women’s experience from
discussion of morality). It has also been suggested
that respond­ing sympathetically to the needs and
desires of others might lead to a less confrontational approach to ethics, and a greater possibility
of finding mutually acceptable solutions to moral
problems. This approach may also be thought to
have the advantage, common to virtue ethics approaches, of allowing the flexibility needed to deal
with the fact that no two situations are alike.
The most common objection to virtue ethics
is that it is too vague to be of much use in moral
decision-making. For one thing, there is a problem
of knowing which character traits should be seen
as “virtues,” especially in view of differences between cultures in terms of which character traits
have been considered virtuous. Both utilitarians
and deontologists would claim that we can decide
which character traits to encourage as “virtues”
only because we already know what sorts of actions we believe to be right, and then can decide
which personal characteristics are most likely to
lead one to perform the right actions. Even if we
knew which traits were virtues, however, it might
be difficult to use this information to help decide
how to act in the face of moral dilemmas. If honesty and avoiding harm to others are both virtues,
for example, how is one to decide whether to tell
the truth when one knows doing so will cause
harm? The ethical issues discussed in this book
give rise to a large number of cases in which there
appears to be a conflict between virtues.
Deontologists and consequentialists could
agree that we do evaluate people in terms of
having or not having various good characteristics, but insist that we do so only because those
people generally do the right sort of actions, or
bring about the right sort of consequences. The
fact that we do make evaluations of these various
types does not by itself establish anything about
which of them is most fundamental.
Ethical Relativism
When faced with the various difficulties which
confront the leading moral theories, some philosophers have suggested that there are no universal
moral truths at all—that what is “right” in a given
society is whatever people in that society believe
is right. This view is often called “relativism,” or, to
distinguish it from other theories which sometimes go by this name, it could be called “cultural
ethical relativism.”
In order to assess this relativist claim, it may
be useful to distinguish several different issues.
First of all, it should be noted that relativists say
more than that there are different beliefs in different cultures. They also make the claim that
what each of these cultures believes to be right is
right. One could believe the first without believing
the second, however—one might think that one
culture has it right while another has it wrong.
Ethical Issues
xvii
Introduction
It may be very difficult to prove that one is right
and the other wrong, but that does not necessarily mean that it is not true to say it. For example,
people might have different theories about why
the dinosaurs died out, only one of which could
be true, even if it were never possible to prove
which one is correct.
On the other hand, even if one is convinced
that a particular culture has a mistaken moral
belief, that does not automatically tell us anything
about what we are allowed to do to try to change
the situation. Certainly much harm has been
done over the years by people who felt certain
about their own moral beliefs and tried to impose
these beliefs on others. Mistakes of that sort have
no doubt helped convince many people that a
relativist approach is the only one we can adopt,
practically speaking. However, one might think
that tolerance of others’ difference is a very important moral value all by itself, and therefore one
might disapprove of such impositions of moral
belief, even while believing that one particular set
of beliefs is morally best in some objective sense.
Indeed, many people’s common-sense moral
beliefs seem to reflect such a value, but also place
a limitation upon it. If, for example, the dominant
view in another culture is that women should not
be treated as equals, or that slavery or torture is acceptable, many people might think we have an obligation to try to convince that culture of the error
of its ways. We may or may not be entitled to use
force to bring about the change, but many would
say we should do more than simply say “Well, that’s
their business” and stay out of the picture.
Indeed, if relativism is correct, it becomes hard
to see how people can engage in ethical debate
even within a single culture. One might wonder
how we are to ­determine what a culture believes
(Does everyone with­in the culture have to believe
it? Nearly everyone? Just over half the people?).
Once one has settled that, however, it seems one
needs merely to take a vote in order to discover
whether something is morally acceptable. Consider as an example the issue of capital punishment. If most people think capital punishment is
xviii
acceptable, and I do not think so, it seems there is
nothing I could say to convince them. The simple
fact that they think it is unacceptable would be
enough to settle the issue, if the test of moral
rightness is what people believe to be right.
It should also be noted that the same sort of
reasoning which supports cultural ethical relativism might be taken to support what we might call
“individual ethical relativism,” the claim that what
each individual thinks is right is right for that individual. Note, however, that accepting this would
make it virtually impossible to justify any sort of
moral criticism of others (and might also make
it difficult to explain what it is one does if one
changes one’s mind about an ethical matter).
One other problem which cultural ethical
relativists must face is in explaining how to identify a culture. Many countries (including Canada)
are made up of several different cultural groups.
Whether one refers to them as “cultures” or “subcultures” or by some other name, the problem
remains that it is difficult to make any strong
claims about what the present culture of Canada
believes. (Note: some issues relating to this observation are among those discussed in Part 7,
on multiculturalism, nationalism, and aboriginal
rights.) Nevertheless, presumably issues such as
those raised in this book must be approached
from within some sort of cultural framework, and
some of the questions (such as what laws, if any,
there should be governing such things as abortion, treatment of the environment, and distribution of pornography) seem to require answers
which can be applied to all Canadians.
I have suggested that cultural ethical relativism has problems, but it is still possible that these
problems could be overcome, and convincing
reasons put forward for accepting cultural ethical
relativism. To that extent, relativism is still a live
issue. Perhaps it is best to approach the ethical
issues discussed in this book with the aim of discovering answers which apply here and now, and
postpone the question of whether these answers
can be universally applicable. Clearly relativism
does raise interesting questions about the very
Ethical Issues
Introduction
nature of moral reasoning, but one should not
conclude from the fact that people disagree about
an issue that there is no possibility of establishing
that one view about it is better than others.
Application
As we have seen, there is a great deal of question
about which moral theory is the best, or even
about whether we should aim for moral theories
at all. Much interesting work is being done in this
area, and it is well worth investigating further, but
this is not the place to do so. Instead, I will now
turn to the question of how moral theories might
apply to specific moral issues.
The classic view has been that one should
work out the best moral theory, and then apply
it to specific issues (hence the common term “applied ethics” for discussion of such contemporary
moral issues). According to this view, one might
decide, for example, that utilitarianism is the best
view available, and then simply resolve the issues
by trying to determine which action or policy
would maximize happiness. Alternatively, one
might test various policies to see if they conform
to the categorical imperative, and so on.
Not everyone would accept this approach,
however. Some argue that we can be much more
certain of our beliefs about these concrete cases
than we can about rather abstract moral theories.
Others point out that in the heat of the moment,
we often do not have time to calculate what our
chosen moral theory dictates, and so must simply
apply, as well as we can, general common-sense
rules which we have adopted earlier.
I do not propose to settle these issues here.
One could write a whole book on whether moral
issues are best dealt with by applying moral theories—but that would be a different book. The
information in this introduction is meant to familiarize the reader with some of the terms which
may be referred to in the pieces which follow, and
to provide some introductory background information about the nature of moral philosophy.
What you make of that information, and of the
arguments and ideas which follow, is up to you.
Notes
1 J.S. Mill, Utilitarianism, originally published 1861,
Hackett edition (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1979),
p. 7.
2 Another version of indirect utilitarianism, which
might be called “disposition utilitarianism,” might
tell a person to foster whichever dispositions are
most likely to maximize happiness overall, and then
simply act in accordance with one’s dispositions in
various situations.
3 J.J.C. Smart, “Extreme and Restricted Utilitarianism,” as printed in P. Foot (ed.), Theories of Ethics
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967), pp.
176–77.
4 I. Kant, Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals,
(J.W. Ellington, trans.), (Indianapolis: Hackett,
1981), p. 30, or p. 421 in the standard pagination.
5 Ibid., p. 36, or p. 429 in the standard pagination.
Ethical Issues
xix