Nick Smyth (Fordham University), "Nothing Personal: On the Limits of the Impersonal Temperament in Ethics"

Journal of Value Inquiry, 2022

By Nick Smyth

This paper began its life as an excuse to have yet another go at David Benatar’s anti-natalism.  However, very quickly I realized that there were deep meta-ethical and meta-philosophical issues I wanted to discuss.  And since this is the only ‘invited’ piece I’ve ever published, for the first time in my career I had the freedom to (basically) say what I want.  Thus, while much of may be wrong, at least it is interestingly wrong. 

The paper is about a perennial figure on the philosophical scene, the moral philosopher operating under an impersonal temperament.  One way to spot this figure is to look for a philosopher who (a) wants to issue practical verdicts, either in the form of concrete judgments or general principles, but who at the same time (b) doesn’t seem to feel the need to relate their verdicts to the practical reasoning of any actual human agent, preferring to simply derive practical conclusions from general principles they find intuitive. 

This is a very unstable combination of traits, and it is more common than you might think.  Given that such claims as “it is wrong to have children” are standardly taken to entail “we all have decisive reason to avoid having children”, the question arises: what is the model of practical reasoning according to which we have these reasons?  Same with claims about our duties with respect to climate change, about which concepts we ought to use, or with respect to structural injustice.  For any given philosopher, the deontic claim about wrongness or duty or whatever is arrived at via certain argumentative considerations, and so this question of rational authority might be rephrased in this way: what is the model of practical reasoning according to which a rational agent ought to give priority to those argumentative considerations in their lives?

I suspect that our tendency to divide ethics into three subfields—applied, normative and meta—doesn’t help here.  This encourages us to think that applied ethicists issue the verdicts, normative ethicists work on the more general principles, and meta-ethicists work on highly abstract questions like the nature of reasons. Yet, as Korsgaard memorably argued, there is nothing abstract about the question of rational authority, since it can basically be restated this way: “Oh yeah?  And why should I care about that?”

For certain arguments in ethics, there is almost certainly going to be no answer to this question.  This is because the arguments are resolutely impersonal.  Many classical consequentialist arguments are like this, since their verdicts are based entirely on agent-neutral considerations, such as facts about what would decrease overall aggregate suffering in the universe. And as Paul Hurley (2009) has shown, those arguments are vulnerable precisely because consequentialism is not a theory of practical reasoning, and because any attempt to turn it into a model of practical reasoning faces severe difficulties (hence the popularity of indirect or self-effacing utilitarianism).

But this problem doesn’t just affect utilitarianism, it undermines any moral argument which studiously avoids making reference to the cares, concerns and commitments of actual human agents.  That is, it undermines wholly impersonal arguments in practical ethics, which have no answer to the question of rational authority.

My contribution here is a friendly distinction between personal and impersonal philosophical temperaments which can, I hope, serve as a foundation for a kind of meta-philosophical peace treaty.

The more personal philosopher finds a kind of intellectual pleasure in agent-relative considerations, those which make ineliminable reference to subjective, contingent features of our lives.  The impersonal philosopher finds the same kind of intellectual pleasure in agent-neutral considerations; they might ordinarily feel at home doing metaphysics, (some) philosophy of science, or conceptual analysis.  Here’s how the two look in moral-philosophical practice:

Personal Argument: Look at the suffering of these poor animals.  Don’t you think it’s horrid?  There is something fantastically immoral about factory farming.

Impersonal Argument: Suffering is intrinsically bad, and we ought to do whatever will minimize overall suffering.  Factory farming creates on-balance overall suffering, therefore, we ought to ban factory farming.

There is nothing intrinsically wrong with being inclined to either temperament, and each has its weaknesses and excesses. As the old saying goes: let two flowers bloom. And since I don’t know what metaphysics would even be without the impersonal temperament, all honor to the impersonal temperament.

But some lines must be drawn, and sometimes, philosophers should introspectively recognize when their own temperament is leading them astray.  So, my dear impersonal colleague, I offer this verdict of my own: you should probably avoid issuing all-purpose moral verdicts about people’s lives and decisions.  Because if they are impersonal, your supporting arguments won’t actually be about those people. Rather, your arguments will be about these things you call “rightness” and “wrongness”, where the content of those concepts is mainly filled in by your (subjective!) intuitions.  I or anyone else can legitimately ask: “Oh yeah?  And why should I care about that?”  And what will your answer be?

Some impersonal philosophers deny that philosophy is meant to answer this question.  Derek Parfit, in his usual brisk manner, said that ““If moral philosophy had the aim of answering such [practical] questions, it could not possibly succeed. Moral philosophy cannot make our decisions” (2011, vol 2, 415).  But Parfit did not intend for people to pick up On What Matters and actually use it to guide their decisions; his aims were purely theoretical.  But, my verdict-issuing friend working in applied ethics or social philosophy, you certainly seem to want to help people make decisions, yes?

So, perhaps you will have an answer to the question of rational authority.  But if you give one, you must necessarily betray your temperament and move towards a more personal mode, since you must tell a real, situated person with an existing set of cares and commitments why they, given their actual practical perspective, should take the considerations you cite to be authoritative in their decision-making.  You have to get personal and talk to me. And that, in my view, is why ethics is so hard: it has to be philosophy, but it also has to speak to people.