| Right and Wrong
Almost
everyone wants to do what is right and avoid what is wrong. Most of
those who know they are doing wrong, take steps to avoid being found
out.
A very few have little or no appreciation
of the difference between right and wrong. We class them as psychopathic
or sociopathic - that is, we acknowledge that something is
malfunctioning in their mental and emotional makeup with regard to
morality. They may learn that certain behaviours are disapproved of, but
they are usually unable to really understand why that should be so.
There is no emotional connection between act and consequence, no
capacity to feel how others might feel if something is done to them - in
short, the absence of empathy.
This class of wrongdoing is not merely
a matter of common sense. Rather, it has a basis in science. For
example: About 1 in 3 000 men are born with an XYY set of chromosomes.
This makes them extremely prone to aggressive behaviour. They are tall,
strong and above average intelligence - at first sight good examples of
the human male. But the question is whether or not such men can be held
accountable in a moral sense for some of their more socially
negative behaviours. Indeed, in October 1968 an XYY-chromosome man was
acquitted of murder on the grounds that he was not in this case
responsible for his action [1].
What few people recognise is that morality requires criteria [2].
In heated public debates about right and wrong on radio and
television, the term "moral" is frequently used. But
seldom does anyone attempt to say on what grounds they are claiming
their "moral" stance.
So, for example, a politician may be caught out in adultery and
accused of "immoral" behaviour. In a society where adultery as
such isn't legislated against, politicians may well assert that adultery
isn't necessarily immoral. They might maintain that they should be held accountable
not for sexual behaviour but for political performance - which is what
they were elected to do. Their accusers will nevertheless trumpet the politicians
"immorality", arguing ad hominem that sexual corruption of the
man must also corrupt the politician.
The question then arises, "From where do we get our criteria for
right behaviour?
On what basis do we judge that some behaviours are right and some
wrong?" In other words, how are you and I to know the difference
between a right action and a wrong one?
Not surprisingly, the Christian tradition about morality is complex,
if only because it has been built up over two millennia. Insofar as it's
possible to boil it down to essentials, perhaps the following will do:
There are two main sources of the criteria we require against
which to judge what is right and what is wrong. The first is the
"Word of God" - which, not surprisingly, means different
things to different people. Underpinning all the versions,
however, is the proposition that God has revealed to us the criteria
we need. With those criteria we can be "like God, knowing good
and evil" (Genesis 3.5).
Broadly speaking, God has done this through two media. The first
comprises special people, picked by God for the purpose. Moses was miraculously given the Ten Commandments.
Other leaders such as the prophets have also pronounced on morality,
having been given insight into God's mind.
Finally, Jesus of Nazareth himself has given us clear rules about
matters like marriage and divorce, forgiveness and the all-embracing standard of
Christian love (agape in Greek).
Now that Jesus is no longer physically with us, Church leaders have been given the right and duty to help ordinary
Christians understand God's revealed morality. Their rulings are
contained in the New Testament, one example being Paul's letters.
There have been subsequent pronouncements of right morality, such as
those from popes, bishops and Church assemblies. The Old Testament (the Hebrew Bible)
contains older versions of God's revelation. The New Testament
contains an updated version. Ideally, the two
should not clash. In practice, they do - in which case the New
Testament should prevail.
The second medium for conveying moral standards is natural law.
According to this view, God has made the universe in such a way that
it carries with it both necessity and obligation to behave in certain ways. If, for
instance, we deliberately exploit the natural order to serve our
greed and avarice, there is a strong sense in which this sort of
behaviour can be seen as immoral. This is partly because God's
creation is inherently good and should not be destroyed; and partly
because the consequences of doing wrong in this respect are likely to be destructive for human
beings.
Christian leaders over the centuries have recognised that God's
revelation doesn't in practice cover every eventuality. The resulting
questions of right and wrong can be extremely difficult to resolve. This sort
of moral dilemma has become particularly pressing in recent times.
Take the contemporary question of the morality of birth control. The bulk of
the Church (by which I mean the Roman Catholic Church, comprising about 80 percent of all Christians) has ruled absolutely
that anything at all which interrupts the normal process of sexual
conception is wrong. This remains true even when use of a condom
might prevent infection by the HIV virus. Add to that the pressing
problem of our world's over-population, and the Church's absolute
ban on contraception becomes, at the very least, somewhat
problematic.
Only very recently have some Church leaders begun to seriously
suggest that this ruling might be incorrect. It often happens that a
person contracts
the HIV virus and then marries an uninfected person. How can it be
right for the infected partner to cause the death of the uninfected
partner by obeying an "absolute" moral ruling? Is
obedience to an absolute moral rule more important than preventing a
death?
Given the ambiguity of the practical application of revealed morals,
Church leaders have maintained that man's faculty of reason is
there to make moral decisions which are not clear or which appear to
conflict with God's revelation. In so doing the Church has sometimes been
accused of casuistry - which, in a pejorative sense, is the use of specious
legal mechanisms to avoid the pain of absolute obedience to absolute moral
laws.
The efforts of Christians to get answers to moral problems has given
rise to a discipline called Moral Theology. This quest for moral truths
has used a number of approaches. Some have concentrated on answers from
the Bible; others have offered traditional responses; yet others have
taken a philosophical path.
Early Christian thinkers about morality rested heavily on the Bible.
They might quote Galatians 5.19-24, for example, condemning
... fornication, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery,
enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions,
envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these.
Such lists were all the rage for quite a while. But they proved limited
in scope, so Christians turned to what they thought was good moral
advice wherever it could be found. Daniel Maguire says that they
... enlisted "pagan" wisdom and sought out the
"seeds of the Logos" wherever they could be found. We see
this in a notable and remarkably systematized way in the writings of
Clement of Alexandria and Origen in the third century. [3]
For example, Ambrose used Cicero's De Officiis more or less as a blueprint
for his own moral treatise, taking out only those aspects (like revenge)
which were inconsistent with the New Testament. Augustine
used Plato and Aristotle as his blueprint. He has since been widely criticised
for his permissive teaching on war and for what now seems a negative
attitude towards sex and women.
The Christian penchant for lists of moral and immoral actions
developed later into morality manuals of which penitential books were
the most important. There was a focus on legalistic hairsplitting. So,
for example, one book distinguished between twenty types of murder, each
with its own appropriate penance.
The founder of today's systematic Moral Theology was Thomas Aquinas
(1225-1274), a giant among philosophers. Part II of his great Summa
Contra Gentiles - designed for Dominican missionaries to use in the
field - focused on the foundations of morality. Aquinas thought that
Christians are given moral guidance through God's grace. The Bible and
Church teachings are secondary to God's illumination of the individual
throughout his or her life.
The Church's moral system was, like most of its other teaching, upset
by the advent of the scientific age and the emergence of "free
thinkers" who refused to be bound by tradition. From this work
came a stream of moral guidance usually termed Utilitarian. It flowed
into the main river of human morality in a decisive way, so that
morality in the West today generally derives from it rather than from
Christian precepts.
Instead of focusing on God's revelation or on natural good, Jeremy
Bentham (1748-1832) and others decided that whether or not an action is
right depends on its consequences or "utility". The goodness
of an action is
... that property in any object whereby it tends to produce
pleasure, good or happiness, or to prevent the happening of mischief,
pain, evil or unhappiness. [4]
This was quickly reduced to the slogan, "The greatest happiness
for the greatest number." For those who adopt this approach, what
is right is
a matter of bringing about a certain state of affairs, of
maximising the prevalence of certain qualities, rather than performing
duties or obeying deities. [5]
The Utilitarian approach to right and wrong is widespread to this
day, perhaps because it encourages independent, mature analysis of the pros and cons of any
action. So if a country wants to overcome an energy shortage it may
discuss whether or not nuclear power is "good" or
"bad". The answer will ideally depend on an analysis of the
outcomes of building nuclear power stations over against renewable
sources of energy such as wind turbines and energy from the sea.
However, it is generally recognised that Utilitarianism has its
downfall in three areas:
The idea that happiness and pleasure are necessarily good is not
always true. In the energy debate above, for example, it may be
entirely incorrect to assume that continued high levels of energy
consumption are good. The material "happiness" of the greater number may turn
out to be the source of their ultimate destruction - possibly through
runaway global warming.
Bentham proposed a moral calculus by which right and wrong
could be worked out in terms of outcomes. In practice this has
proved impossible. Even the simplest moral choice has too many
variables and imponderables to be accurately worked out in this way.
In addition, the pleasures and pains of one individual can't be
equated with those of another, so we can't even work out a norm of
"utility" which applies to everyone. My liking for tripe may not be your pleasure,
even though it is a nutritious and therefore
"good" dish for us both.
In the nineteenth century, during a time of considerable confusion
and great change about religious matters, many fell back on the ancient
idea of "conscience" as the best arbiter of right and wrong.
It derives from very early times. Homer's writings in ancient Greece
speak of arête or "virtue" as those characteristics
which enable a person to perform a praiseworthy role in society. The arête
of a warrior, for example, are courage and strength, and of a woman faithfulness and
modesty. Conscience was originally regarded as a separate faculty
of the soul or mind by which human beings are able to decide matters of
morality. Socrates claimed to have been guided by a daemon or
conscience, and the idea was preserved in various forms in Christian
theology. Henri Rousseau (1844-1910) said of the faculty of conscience that we can
... be dispensed from wasting our life in the study of morals
[because] we have at less cost a more assured guide in this immense
labyrinth of human opinions. [6]
This type of morality has remained current in popular usage, but has
elsewhere fallen on hard times. This because we now understand better
how we are brought up - or "socialised". As we develop in
early childhood we all willy-nilly absorb to some degree the moral attitudes and
behaviours of our parents and others. Those morals stay with us for
life, though we may set them aside (usually with considerable
difficulty) by personal choice when we
mature. This partly explains the very different morals of various
cultures. It implies that only if there is an absolute "right"
which, for example, prohibits eating people can someone brought up as a cannibal be said to be "wrong". Thus the idea of conscience has been modified to
represent an inner sense of what is right and wrong which is derived
either from our culture or from personal choice. Morality today is
increasingly being perceived as relative to the situation, rather than
an absolute given by God. The battle
between moral absolutes and moral relativity has been waged for many
decades now. People still want to know if there is a set of rules or
guidelines to what is right and wrong. If it turns out that there are no
moral absolutes then it follows that they need instead to agonise about
morality on the basis of evidence and the input of others. The ground
has thus shifted from the discussion of morals themselves to a debate on the
validity of religious laws which are taken by some as moral absolutes.
Is it valid to assert, as many do, that the Bible or the Koran or some
other source contain everything essential for us to decide moral
questions? One
thinker who caused a flutter among Christian pigeons in the 1960s was
Joseph Fletcher. His approach was labelled "Situation Ethics"
and was strongly condemned by all those who claimed a morality of divine
command. Fletcher drove his cart and horses through the idea that it is
viable to live by any moral rules. If we try that, he wrote, we
are doomed to wallow helplessly in a marsh of casuistry.
Faced with the shocking possibility that law may have to condemn
what love has done, the priests and preachers have worked out a a
false kind of casuistry that has grown up into a bewildering thicket
... love compels them to make more and more rules with which to break
the rules. [7]
He proposes instead that Christians - and others if they so choose -
can rest with the Great Commandment from Jesus that we love one another.
The situationist holds that whatever is the most loving thing in
the situation is the right and good thing. It is not excusably evil,
it is positively good.
This is in one sense a command morality, since Christians take it as
an absolute because it is derived from none other than Jesus himself. But it turns out
to be an apparent absolute which is broadly utilitarian. Our actions are to be
determined by their outcomes. This is not a rule-based command, since
the Great Commandment is actually one which directs that we use our brains and judgement to
determine what is the greater good in any moral choice. In doing so,
rules can be applied only as guidelines, not as legally binding. But
it should be noted that Fletcher has in fact not answered the central question,
"What is a right action?" A loving action requires the greater
good of the other person. But what is the "good" for the other
person? We can't know that absolutely. When a loving action is carefully
weighed and calculated, it is done so on the basis of a judgement by the
loving person about what is "the good" for the other. And that
can't be an absolute science. One recent example of an attempt to
reach the nirvana of right action is an attempt to turn the
question around. Instead of asking, "What constitutes a right
action?" the question has been framed as, "What does a
healthy, fully functioning, self-realised person do?" This turns
out to be a variation of morality derived from nature. The person who does
"good" is the best person nature can produce. But who is to
say that my definition of "well balanced" is better than
yours? The basis of this approach still depends upon a value judgement. The idea is that if we look
to various narratives from our cultures, we will find
"stories" which encapsulate this kind of morality. The
myths of ancient Greece or Rome might be an example for Westerners. In
the East, accounts of the adventures of the Buddha might perform the
same function. We might even discover moral criteria in a modern novel. For
Christians, it is the gospel narratives about Jesus which provide an account of
their preferred behavioural model. This approach doesn't resist
examination for long, however. The relativity of morals remains. Who
is to say that Jesus is a better model than Mohammed and on what
absolute grounds? Narratives present in story form the social norms of
various societies from time to time. That's not the same thing as
providing criteria for right and wrong. An increasingly popular
and viable variant of the above option is to be found in the view that
morality isn't morality until it's freely chosen [8].
Each of us in the last resort must make his or her own choice as a fully
autonomous being. The quality of this choice is important. If it rests
even partially on external authority as such, it fails to be properly
autonomous and therefore properly moral. Morality as fully
autonomous, disinterested choice of what is a good action and what is a
bad one obviously therefore excludes the authority of the Church - of
its laws and pronouncements whether or not they are claimed to have been
revealed by God to humanity. Morality demands radical freedom: the
freedom to act as I choose, the freedom to impose freely chosen rules
upon oneself, and the quality of freedom from external authority. One
objection to the morality of autonomy has considerable power. If each of
us is completely free to choose our own morality, what is to prevent
substantial anarchy developing? For if societies are to exist and
continue, they must be able to impose laws of behaviour upon their
citizens. It is not sufficient to say, as Cupitt apparently does, that
certain behaviours are intrinsically good and that therefore all good
people will freely choose them. The fact is that moral behaviours differ
widely from time to time and from culture to culture. If I am free to be
moral when I eat other people, then there is no intrinsic reason to
forbid me. To sum up: There seem to
be four main types of approach to the question, "How do I
distinguish a right action from a wrong one?" Theistic
imperative Some say that a personal God has handed down moral
precepts to humanity over time. If so, these are absolute, since they
are derived from the "Absolute". Eating people is wrong
because God said so. But the validity of this moral code depends upon a
willingness to accept that God impacts our world in this way. An increasing
number of people don't appear to need to draw this conclusion in their
lives. They are content to live out their own moralities within the
boundaries of social codes, rather than on the basis of some revealed
absolute. Social imperative It may
be that we invent our own morality. If so, our morals are not absolute.
Rather, they derive from social norms. Sometimes these "just
happen" - that is, they evolve slowly. Sometimes they are
legislated by an authority. Such moral codes change constantly,
depending on the circumstances. But they will always be the result of a
social consensus. Eating people is wrong because society has passed a
law against it or because there is an unspoken social norm which forbids it.
This approach demands constant reflection on the utility of prevailing
morals. Reasoned imperative Perhaps a moral code
"exists" in the sense that it can be discovered by the process
of reason, just as 2 + 2 = 4 has been "discovered" over time. If so,
this type of moral would appear to be inherent in the nature of the
universe. There may be parts of this morality which remain constant, and
parts which change over time. At any rate, we can work our way through
to reasoned moral criteria by knowing how the universe operates. Eating
people is usually wrong, because people don't like being eaten and it
tends to spread intense unrest amongst those who risk being eaten. But
in some cases cannibalism might prove necessary, in which case it is
regrettable and unpleasant - but not intrinsically wrong. Autonomous
imperative It may be that the only way to decide what is right
and what is wrong is to allow each person to make that decision with
complete freedom. If this is true, then morality can truly be said to
fail unless it is freely chosen without compulsion or undue pressure
from authority of any kind. This is an attractive and compelling
solution to the problem of morality. But the difficulty of finding
criteria to decide what is moral remains. If there are no criteria, then
it doesn't matter who chooses what morality and eating people might well
come into fashion again. Conversely, if there are criteria then it is
difficult to talk of a completely free and autonomous choice. Criteria
for right and wrong prove to have been elusive for the entire history of humanity.
It appears that this may always be true. One writer put the dilemma this way:
Clean principles and fine theories take on a new aspect when
clothed in flesh and blood. [9]
_____________________________________________________
[1] Asimov's New Guide to Science, Isaac Asimov,
Penguin Books, 1987
[2] I take morality to be about what is right and what is
wrong, whereas ethics is the art of choosing between right and wrong.
[3] A New Dictionary of Christian Theology, SCM Press, 1983
[4] In The Principles of Morals and Legislation
[5] Zeno and the Tortoise, Nicholas Fearn, Atlantic Books,
2001
[6] In History of Western Philosophy, Bertrand Russell, Allen
& Unwin, 1946
[7] Situation Ethics, SCM Press, 1966
[8] See Taking Leave of God, Don Cupitt, SCM Press Ltd, 2001
[9] Vernon Sproxton, Gateway to God, Collins-Fontana, 1978
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