Are morals just feelings one approves of?
My thesis that feelings are,
like thinking, like ideas, like checking facts and doing experiments, disclose
reality, or cover it up, depending. Love and grief – when authentic (not
sentimental or counterfeit) disclose the being of the beloved person; remorse discloses
the evilness of the action and the human dignity of the person wronged; awe and
reverence disclose our relation to the universe (as can fear); desecrating life
as in the horrid practices of industrial meat reveals the being of animals precisely
through its violation; the silence during the Eucharist is appropriate to the occasion
and partly discloses its sublimity; the jubilation at the end of WWII in allied
countries disclosed the significance of the victory.
Emotions can conceal reality when not a
lucid response to it. The tourist who
beholds the Grand Canyon and says, “yeah, and? A big hole” cannot see the Grand
Canyon; their reaction is that of a blind person. The person who can only use
the “grief” over the loss of a pet or relative to garner attention to
themselves as an object of sympathy is cut off from the reality of the pet or
relative. The bastards who acquired logging rights to the redwood forest,
reducing it to “natural resources” waiting to become profits, are spiritually
retarded. Feelings, emotions not only reveal and conceal reality, but reveal
very clearly the reality of the person responding.
And said feelings, emotions – I could add
moods – give rise to our basic attitudes toward life and the world as a whole,
which then color our perceptions and beliefs all the way down (and not worried
about precise distinctions between these words at this point). The bastards who
profited by destroying large parts of the redwood forests were perhaps stunted
by an unloving family or hated nature because of some fear or past trauma. We
humans are not free to love and hate, see and not-see, as are the angels, as we
are creatures of flesh and blood, living in a history conditioned significantly
by violence, injustice, and disharmony. If we see and feel as a response to
reality rather than our seeing and feeling being blocked by past damage to our
souls, then we are more lucky than deserving praise. [I think this is the
background for Christ’s “let he who is without sin cast the first stone…” and “for
he maketh. his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the
just and on the unjust.” But I digress.] We develop attitudes (Einstellung) to life and the world always under the
pressure of our lives growing up – attitudes in Wittgenstein’s sense: a
comprehensive stance or perspective that goes beyond a simple cognitive
opinion. It involves the person's entire orientation – including emotional
responses, personal values, and the overall way in which they engage with
whatever. The original meaning of both the German and English suggests a sense
of positioning or orientation, suggesting a way in which an individual
positions themselves mentally or emotionally in relation to a particular
concept or experience (the attitude of a compass, in an older usage; or in a
Jane Austin novel, how a character sits in a certain attitude.). And these attitudes condition one’s feelings –
upon seeing the Grand Canyon or the Redwood forest, etc. Again, I digress.]
. . .
And
so I am reminded of a deceptively similar approach to thinking about morals,
religion, art, and metaphysics that came out of the logical positivist style of
philosophy: emotivism. I first learned in a book titled After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory (1981) by Alasdair
MacIntyre – a book that I have thought a lot about over the years. This is the
way MacIntyre characterizes emotivism:
Emotivism is the doctrine that all evaluative judgments
and more specifically all moral judgments are nothing but expressions of
preference, expressions of attitude or feeling, insofar as they are moral or
evaluative in character. Particular judgments may of course unite moral and
factual elements. ‘Arson, being destructive of property, is wrong’ unites the
factual judgment that arson destroys property with the moral judgment that
arson is wrong. But the moral element in such a judgment is always to be
sharply distinguished from the factual. Factual judgments are true or false;
and in the realm of fact there are rational criteria by means of which we may
secure agreement as to what is true and what is false. But moral judgments,
being expressions of attitude or feeling, are neither true nor false; and
agreement in moral judgment is not to be secured by any rational method, for
there are none. It is to be secured, if at all, by producing certain
non-rational effects on the emotions or attitudes of those who disagree with
one. We use moral judgments not only to express our own feelings and attitudes,
but also precisely to produce such effects in others (14).
So am I an “emotivist”? (I dislike jargon in
philosophy.) No, at least I hope not. Like emotivism I do assert
that feelings/emotions – certain feelings/emotions, experienced in a particular
quality conditioned by deeper attitudes – are the source of myth, religion,
art, and morals. But for me this part of our inner lives (the whole complex I
just mentioned) reaches out to and responds to something real and can, if
‘pure’ reveal essential aspects of the reality they are responses to. In this
they are like thoughts – and I don’t consider thoughts something logically clearly
distinct from these kinds of feelings. The thought ‘Both the slaughter of the
people at the music festival as well as the people in Gaza through the
retaliatory bombing involve unspeakable cruelty’ is a thought and the thought
is intelligible unless cruelty provokes some emotional response; it is a
thought-feeling. More importantly, it is not reduced to psychology. It reveals
something about the person’s inner life, no doubt. But also something about its
object.
[Again, the will to reduce emotions to
psychology – the subjective – stems from the logical positivists' faith in the
metaphysical myth that science was not just science but also metaphysics: that
scientific methods reveal the entire essence – or lack thereof – of the
universe. While it is true that science must make assumptions about nature –
that it is uniform, for example – it is not a possible scientific hypothesis
that Being can be reduced to what science can understand of it. If anyone
believes that nature is reducible to what a finished science could understand
of it, then they live by a faith as unsupported by science as an evangelical.
Indeed, there was something fundamentalist about the scientism of the logical
positivists: they never tried to give an argument for their metaphysics because
they thought all metaphysical argument was meaningless – it was on their narrow
understanding of meaning and truth – and thus left no room for any awareness
that their entire project of eliminating metaphysics and religion always
presupposed their metaphysical scientism: an example of a world version
exploding from an internal contradiction.]
But I
do think at the level of myth and metaphysics, since they make sense of our most
profound responses to life, some incommensurability does exist, intellectually.
I don’t think there are proofs or knock-down arguments against many possible
incommensurable belief constellations. Emotions are cognitive, connected with
thought. But reality is big, and we all experience it through our own lives. Perhaps
some emotivists would feel that is the core of emotivism. Our finitude, our
fallibility (that stems not only from our finitude but the ways we all get
damaged during the course of a life) mean that natural reason can only take us
so far, and that subjective certitude (or lack thereof) has to pick up from
there. So Nietzsche was right when he wrote to his sister:
One last question: If from
our youth we had believed that the salvation of the soul emanates from someone
other than Jesus, say, from Muhammad, wouldn't we have partaken in the same
blessings? Indeed, faith alone blesses, not the objective reality that stands
behind faith. I write this to you, dear Lisbeth, to counter the most common
proof that people of faith rely on, those who appeal to their inner experiences
and derive from them the infallibility of their faith. Every true faith is thus
infallible; it accomplishes what the believing person hopes to find within it,
but it offers no basis whatsoever for establishing an objective truth.
But Nietzsche was referring
to the level of belief systems here – Christianity, Islam – or by implication
metaphysical systems like Hegel’s. I am talking about immediate responses to
life. My child is born; joy fills me. Therefore, I cannot accept a belief
system like Schopenhauer’s that makes the individual an illusion and life a
mistake. The infallibility and certain do not come from the tenets of
Christianity or Islam; the infallibility is at the level of the joy over the
new life. You don’t believe that you have joy, as a proposition that may be
true or false; the unquestioned joy forces certain beliefs on you, if you at
another time come to inquire. The incommensurably comes because not everybody
can respond to the birth of a child with joy. The question is: how do we see
that? As a tragedy? I must see it that way because I cannot doubt and have
lived with this certainty through thick and thin that life – despite all the
bad stuff – is in its core a gift, and that it is terrible (sin) that this is
covered up by the things people do and the power structures they some people
erect and perpetuate.

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