You should not end a sentence with a preposition. This claim is true, only by convention. We make it true by believing it and practicing it. So it is, it seems, with all truths of grammar. In contrast, consider the truths of gravity. Wiley Coyote walks off a cliff, and doesn’t begin to fall until he notices. And the cartoon is funny because we know that gravity is not like that. We discover the truths of gravity; we do not invent them.
Is morality more like grammar or gravity, in this respect? Some people think it is obvious that morality is more like grammar; that the truths of morality hold, only because we believe in them and practice them. Some think this view is so obvious, they cannot even imagine the opposite view, namely, that the truths of morality, like those of gravity, hold independently of us. We do not invent them; we discover them.
We may define these views as follows:
Moral Relativism: The truth of all moral claims depends on what we think or practice.
Moral Realism: The truth of at least some moral claims does not depend on what we think or practice.
For instance, consider the claim that it is wrong to punt kittens just for fun. Or that teachers should not grade on the basis of how they happen to feel that day. Or that it is admirable to care for foster children. If a moral realist considers these claims to be true, as he will if he is not a lunatic, then he considers them to be true independently of what we think. If, instead, you think it is despicable to care for foster children, the moral realist will say that you are mistaken. You are like someone who thinks that when you walk off a cliff you will float away. In contrast, the moral relativist will not say that you are mistaken. Instead, she will say that it is true for you, or true for your culture.
Moral relativism seems to be the dominant view in the culture at large. It seems to enable a kind of pleasing acceptance of each other's differences. But while that may be appealing, what evidence is there that moral relativism is true? It is, after all, a substantive claim about the nature of morality. It requires the test of argument, and by the end of this essay, you'll see why it fails.
Three objections against relativism
First, if relativism is true, then anything any culture does is morally just as good as anything any other culture does. After all, there is no objective moral standpoint outside of culture. So, as long as the Nazis sincerely and earnestly persecuted the Jews, then what they did was morally right. It was right because they believed it was. It was morally just as good as the peaceful, communal lifestyle of certain Native American cultures.
This, of course, is absurd. What the Nazis did was wrong, and the fact that they believed it to be right doesn’t make it any better.
Second, if relativism is true, then moral progress is not possible. We tend to think that when America abolished slavery, this was a form of moral progress. But that makes no sense if relativism is true. There isn’t ever moral progress, only moral change. A change in cultural norms could only ever be a lateral move, so to speak. But this, too, seems like an absurd result.
Third, if relativism is true, then moral disagreement is not possible. Disagreement about right and wrong is as common as dirt. We believe that what the Nazis did is morally wrong. They believed it to be morally right. This sure looks like a disagreement. However, on the relativist view, what the Nazis did is only wrong for you. It is right for them. But in that case, there isn’t a real disagreement between us and the Nazis. Morality becomes like traffic conventions. You should drive on the right side of the road in America. You should drive on the left side in Britain. There isn’t a disagreement here. But that is absurd. Moral disagreement is pervasive.
So, relativism fails to respect three obvious features of morality: moral criticism, moral progress, and moral disagreement. Accordingly, we should ask, Why do so many people accept the view?
The argument from moral differences
Here is perhaps the most common argument for moral relativism:
Different cultures have different moral beliefs. For instance, the Ilongot tribe in the Philippines practices head hunting. When a loved one dies, it is part of the grieving process to find someone in the forest, kill him, and take his head. In the US, we grieve in a different way. Who’s to say our way is any more “right”? Hunting heads is right for them; giving eulogies is right for us.
This argument observes that moral beliefs vary across cultures, then concludes that moral truth varies across cultures. Thus, we might formulate the argument as follows:
(1) Moral beliefs vary across cultures.
(C) So, moral truth varies across cultures.
However, as it stands this argument is not valid. A valid argument, you'll recall, is one whose premises guarantee its conclusion. But we can fix the validity by adding a premise:
(1) Moral beliefs vary across cultures.
(2) If moral beliefs vary across cultures, then moral truth varies across cultures.
(C) So, moral truth varies across cultures.
Now the argument is valid. If (1) and (2) are true, the conclusion would have to follow.
Are (1) and (2) true?
Assessing the premises
Premise (1) is clearly true, as is established by the case of the headhunters, as well as many other cases. But the realist can agree with (1). Sure, some cultures believe that the death of a loved one is a reason to murder a stranger. But this belief is simply incorrect. No surprise there: many beliefs are. At least, that’s what the realist can say.
Here, the relativist might object: How can the realist say that the headhunter’s moral belief is incorrect? That’s pigheaded, intolerant, dogmatic, arrogant, etc.
And what is wrong with being pig-headed and intolerant? Remember that for the relativist, all morality is supposed to be something society has made up. Indeed, it is only the realist who can say that humility, tolerance, openness and understanding are intrinsic, objective moral goods. Moreover, relativism itself is a belief that many people reject. To be sure, if you believe relativism, you must also believe that realism is mistaken. That needn’t be pig-headed and intolerant. It is just what logic commits you to.
The point here is that, strictly speaking, the realist can grant (1). (1) by itself does not directly contradict realism. It does so, only when we add (2).
Why, then, should we accept (2)? The relativist rarely gives us reason to do so. Indeed, the relativist rarely even states this premise out in the open. Yet it is a required premise, and the one most in need of justifying. And since the relativist is the one offering the argument, he has the burden to show why we should accept (2). I am aware of no relativist who has ever done this.
Then again, perhaps the relativist shouldn't waste his time. A little reflection will show that (2) is false.
The problem with premise (2)
There seems to be a more general principle lurking behind (2). It seems to be something like this:
The Variation Principle: If beliefs within a certain domain vary across cultures, then truth within that domain varies across cultures.
The Variation Principle is just like premise (2), except that it is not restricted to the moral domain.
Is the Variation Principle true? As it stands, it is open to counterexample. For instance, there are modern nations that deny the Holocaust ever occurred. There are groups of people who still believe the earth is flat. The Variation Principle seems to entail, then, that the truth about whether the Holocaust occurred varies across cultures; that the truth about the shape of the earth varies across cultures. But that is absurd. So, the Variation Principle is false.
In that case, the relativist faces the following challenge. He needs to explain why, on the one hand, the Variation Principle is false, but, on the other hand, premise (2) is true. In other words, he needs to explain why he is a relativist about morality, but not about science or history. What is the relevant difference between these domains? Let’s consider three possible answers.
Why is morality any different than science?
The first thing the relativist might say:
I. Science and history are fact; morality is opinion.
But he cannot mean by an “opinion” something whose truth depends on what humans believe. Otherwise, he is simply restating moral relativism, rather than defending it.
II. In science and history, our views tend to match, at least over time; in morality, there is a far greater amount of variation across cultures.
But why does a greater amount of variation within a domain mean we should go relativistic about that domain? A second explanation of the variation is simply that, within that domain, it is harder to get at the truth. In order to be a good judge of morality, you need the right upbringing, the right emotional sensitivity, empathy, and understanding, a willingness to sift through the details with care and subtly. Maybe these things are just hard to come by. Why not hold this explanation of the moral variation we find in the world? The relativist needs to rule this out, in order for cultural variation to support his view.
III. In science and history, we have good reason to think we are correct, and the flat earthers and the Holocaust deniers are mistaken. But morality is not like that. We do not have good reason to think we are correct and the headhunters are mistaken.
But why should the realist grant this? Why should we think this at all? ‘The death of a loved one is a good reason to murder a stranger’. The realist believes this is false. Its falsehood is manifest simply upon reflection. It is obviously mistaken.
The relativist will respond: It isn’t obviously mistaken to the headhunters! They think it’s correct.
But so what? The Holocaust deniers and the flat earthers also think they are correct. That’s just what it is to hold a belief. No one says, “I currently believe X, but X is false.” If that’s what you thought, you would simply stop believing X.
IV. But we can prove historical and scientific claims! We can’t prove moral claims.
The idea behind IV seems to be this:
The Proof Principle: For any claim, if we can’t prove it, and parties disagree about it, then we should be think each party is equally right.
Here, it is important to be clear about the concept of proof. What is it to prove a claim?
Typically, what people mean is this: to prove a claim is to conclusively establish its truth.
However, taken in this way, the Proof Principle is false. After all, the Proof Principle is itself a claim. Can we prove—that is, conclusively establish—the Proof Principle? No. It is a substantial philosophical thesis. It isn’t something you can run an experiment on, or dig up in an archeological site, or demonstrate with geometric axioms.
Is the Proof Principle something parties disagree about? Yes. In fact, many philosophers would reject it.
So, the Proof Principle is a claim that (a) cannot be proven, and (b) is the subject of disagreement. So, by its own lights, we should be relativistic about the Proof Principle. If the Proof Principle is true, then it is just as "correct" to regard it as false. And this has a nasty result for the relativist: If he invokes the Proof Principle, I can say that it is false, and he has to concede this to me. He has to treat our disagreement here exactly as he treats our disagreement with the Ilongot headhunters. And that means he cannot use it effectively as a step in his argument.
Everything that's worth doing
Let’s review the discussion here. The main argument for moral relativism appeals to variation in moral beliefs across cultures. But I’ve pointed out that there is also variation in scientific and historical beliefs across cultures. Plausibly, though, we should not be relativists about science and history. So, the relativist has a leeching problem. He needs to say why cultural variation in moral belief supports moral relativism, but cultural variation in scientific and historical belief does not support relativism in those domains. I - IV represent considerations relativists might appeal to here, but none of them succeed, as I’ve argued.
More generally, the relativist seems to think that, whenever we encounter a disagreement in which the answer is difficult to agree upon, whenever the truth can't be seen in a microscope or measured with a ruler, we should throw up our hands and say that everyone is somehow equally right. But this is approach would freeze progress in just about every academic field, even the sciences. Every academic field has a cutting edge. The cutting edge is lined with experts who disagree with each other. Sometimes with moxie. On both sides of any issue are experts who are smart, educated, and committed to the truth. They are all aware of the same body of evidence. Yet their disagreements often persist. The answer is not to throw up our hands and say that everyone is equally right. If it is an issue we care about, the answer is to dig in, learn all we can, weigh the evidence for ourselves as best we can, and search for the verdict that seems most plausible. It is difficult and complex and fraught with uncertainty. But then again, so is everything that’s worth doing.
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