Last Night’s Dinner Conversation (Revision 1)
Our conversation over dinner inspired me to expand on my thoughts in a fuller and more systematic form. I think that, by your own reasoning, we can arrive at a commonsense view of the nature of morality. I will not discuss that question further until we arrive there through reason and discussion, though my intent may already be clear.
For the sake of brevity, I will set aside long-winded emotional appeals and retorts grounded in pity. Though I do commend the use of testimony as a means of spiritually convicting others, that is not the point at issue here. Nor will I be expounding fully at this stage, since this serves as a setup for further argument in another piece.
The common evidentialist view of belief, as its name suggests, posits that there must be sufficient and finitely observable grounds for belief to be rationally held. The meanings of “sufficient” and “finitely observable” are important to this discussion. With these requirements in mind, I have extended evidentialism into what I call empirical evidentialism, so as to match the viewpoint you took with regard to worldly evidence. By “sufficient,” I mean that accumulated pieces of evidence must be proportional to the conclusion they support. For example, the conclusion “my dog is the best dog in the world” would not be sufficiently grounded by the evidence “he sits when told.” This is a reasonable standard, and I think one that all should strive for when in disagreement. Finally, we have the more difficult extended requirement: grounds must be observable in the natural world. Where they are not directly observable, the evidence offered in their support must also follow the same requirements as the claim under consideration. In effect, this creates an empirical chain of evidence grounded in what can be observed.
These requirements fit within the boundaries of a scientific mindset. Furthermore, scientific subjects such as gravity and chemistry are well supported by this stance. The development of these fields is directly related to the evidence available to us. Scientific truth is determined by data, not by preference. A good scientist does not prefer one answer and simply claim it to be fact. In the same way, we must not choose a moral belief system simply because it fits our present purposes. This would be counterintuitive to the purpose of morality. Many times in life, it would be easier to take the morally inferior route. But for moral inquiry to advance, as science advances, we must be consistent and precise in our judgments, whether moral or scientific.
To draw out that consistency further, we should agree on a basic truth: there has long existed a desire for “human betterment.” This can be seen in common judgments, such as the general belief that doing hard drugs is bad. Most people, including yourself, attribute its badness to the fact that it is not “good for you.” However one takes this in the current world, whether betterment applies to the individual or to a nation is beside the point for now.
If we take “human betterment” as a goal toward which progress is to be made, then progress may be defined as movement toward a goal by means of realization or change. If such a goal is not fixed, then that movement becomes merely change for the sake of change. Or simply put, if the goal is not fixed, one runs toward a destination that can never be reached. From our conversation, we may now draw out a line of reasoning: we agreed generally that many people, perhaps including yourself, view morality as relative. But it becomes difficult to judge moral failure, as in the drug conversation, if one also believes that good morals are defined only by the self. Thus we arrive at the classic quandary of relativism. And here is the crux: we have an agreed-upon goal, whether for the individual or the group, in “human betterment”; we have a measure by which to move toward it, namely progress; and yet we have unstable ground through which to effect change.
Relativism, at its core, falls short when judgments must be made. A relativist cannot consistently say to another, “Do not kill people,” because there exists a mutual understanding that the morals of both are equally authoritative. And from the standpoint of a scientific outlook, the problem becomes even more apparent. Progress requires a standard against which change can be measured in relation to a fixed goal, yet moral change under relativism is made only in the self. And sadly for this relativist system, there are billions of selves in existence, all with their own equal authority. At that point, optimization is no longer possible. Scientific progress requires optimization toward a goal, and in a world of relativism no such common optimization can be made. If moral relativism is true, then the claim that human betterment is a shared and meaningful goal becomes deeply unstable.
So I would ask: if your framework for belief is one of evidence, why choose a moral system that offers so little evidence in support of the goal of human betterment, whether of oneself or of others?