Also, I find pretty compelling the argument that the classical definition of moral philosophy in trying to define “the good” is both impossible and not even a particularly good target to aim at, and that trying to find generally-agreeable moral solutions is something much more useful; and if we accept this argument, then moral psychology is relevant, because it can help us figure out generally-agreeable solutions.
...there is a deeper point in Williams’s book that is even harder to rebut. Williams asks: What can an ethical theory do, if we are able to build a convincing case for one? He is skeptical about the force of ethical considerations and reminds us that even if we were to have a justified ethical theory, the person in question might not be concerned about it. Even if we could prove to some amoralists that what they are about to do is (a) against some universal ethical standard, (b) is detrimental to their own well-being, and/or (c) is against the demands of rationality or internal coherence, they still have the choice of whether to care about this or not. They can choose to act even if they know that what they are about to do is against some standard that they believe in. Robert Nozick—whom Williams quotes—describes this as follows: “Suppose that we show that some X he [the immoral man] holds or accepts or does commits him to behaving morally. He now must give up at least one of the following: (a) behaving immorally, (b) maintaining X, (c) being consistent about this matter in this respect. The immoral man tells us, ‘To tell you the truth, if I had to make the choice, I would give up being consistent’” (Nozick 1981, 408).
What Williams in effect says is that the noble task of finding ultimate justification for some ethical standards could not—even if it was successful—deliver any final argument in practical debates about how to behave. “Objective truth” would have only the motivational weight that the parties involved choose to give to it. It no longer is obvious what a philosophical justification of an ethical standard is supposed to do or even “why we should need such a thing” (Williams 1985, 23).
Yet when we look at many contemporary ethical debates, we can see that that they proceed as if the solutions to the questions they pose would matter. In most scientific disciplines the journal articles have a standard section called “practical bearings,” where the practical relevance of the accumulated results are discussed. Not so for metaethical articles, even though they otherwise simulate the academic and peer-reviewed writing style of scientific articles. When we read someone presenting a number of technical counterarguments against quasi-realist solutions to the Frege-Geach problem, there usually is no debate about what practical bearings the discussion would have, whether these arguments would be successful or not. Suppose that in some idealized future the questions posed by the Frege-Geach problem would be conclusively solved. A new argument would emerge that all parties would see as so valid and sound that they would agree that the problem has now been finally settled. What then? How would ordinary people behave differently, after the solution has been delivered to them? I would guess it is fair to say—at least until it is proven otherwise—that the outcome of these debates is only marginally relevant for any ordinary person’s ethical life. [...]
This understanding of morality means that we have to think anew what moral inquiry should aim at. [...] Whatever justification can be given for one moral doctrine over the other, it has to be found in practice—simply because there are no other options available. Accordingly, for pragmatists, moral inquiry is in the end directed toward practice, its successfulness is ultimately judged by the practical bearings it has on people’s experiences: “Unless a philosophy is to remain symbolic—or verbal—or a sentimental indulgence for a few, or else mere arbitrary dogma, its auditing of past experience and its program of values must take effect in conduct” (Dewey 1916, 315). Moral inquiry should thus aim at practice; its successfulness is ultimately measured by how it is able to influence people’s moral outlook and behavior. [...]
Moral principles, ideals, rules, theories, or conclusions should thus be seen “neither as a cookbook, nor a remote calculus” (Pappas 1997, 546) but as instruments that we can use to understand our behavior and change it for the better. Instead of trying to discover the correct ethical theories, the task becomes one of designing the most functional ethical theories. Ethics serves certain functions in human lives and in societies, and the task is to improve its ability to serve these functions (Kitcher 2011b). In other words, the aim of ethical theorizing is to provide people with tools (see Hickman 1990, 113–14) that help them in living their lives in a good and ethically sound way. [...]
It is true that the lack of foundational principles in ethics denies the pragmatist moral philosopher the luxury of being objectively right in some moral question. In moral disagreements, a pragmatist cannot “solve” the disagreement by relying on some objective standards that deliver the “right” and final answer. But going back to Williams’s argument raised at the beginning of this article, we can ask what would it help if we were to “solve” the problem. The other party still has the option to ignore our solution. Furthermore, despite the long history of ethics we still haven’t found many objective standards or “final solutions” that everyone would agree on, and thus it seems that waiting for such standards to emerge is futile.
In practice, there seem to be two ways in which moral disagreements are resolved. First is brute force. In some moral disputes I am in a position in which I can force the other party to comply with my standards whether that other party agrees with me or not. The state with its monopoly on the legitimate use of violence can force its citizens to comply with certain laws even when the personal moral code of these citizens would disagree with the law. The second way to resolve a moral disagreement is to find some common ground, some standards that the other believes in, and start building from there a case for one’s own position.
In the end, it might be beneficial that pragmatism annihilates the possibility of believing that I am absolutely right and the other party is absolutely wrong. As Margolis notes: “The most monstrous crimes the race has ever (been judged to have) perpetrated are the work of the partisans of ‘right principles’ and privileged revelation” (1996, 213). Instead of dismissing the other’s perspective as wrong, one must try to understand it in order to find common ground and shared principles that might help in progressing the dialogue around the problem. If one really wants to change the opinion of the other party, instead of invoking some objective standards one should invoke some standards that the other already believes in. This means that one has to listen to the other person, try to see the world from his or her point of view. Only through understanding the other’s perspective one can have a chance to find a way to change it—or to change one’s own opinion, if this learning process should lead to that. One can aim to clarify the other’s points of view, unveil their hidden assumptions and values, or challenge their arguments, but one must do this by drawing on principles and values that the other is already committed to if one wants to have a chance to have a real impact on the other’s way of seeing the world, or actually to resolve the disagreement. I believe that this kind of approach, rather than a claim for a more objective position, has a much better chance of actually building common understanding around the moral issue at hand.
Also, I find pretty compelling the argument that the classical definition of moral philosophy in trying to define “the good” is both impossible and not even a particularly good target to aim at, and that trying to find generally-agreeable moral solutions is something much more useful; and if we accept this argument, then moral psychology is relevant, because it can help us figure out generally-agreeable solutions.
As Martela (2017) writes: