Truth, rational acceptability, values, and dialogue

The position I have defended is that any choice of a conceptual scheme presupposes values, and the choice of a scheme for describing ordinary interpersonal relations and social facts, not to mention thinking about one's own life plan, involves, among other things, one's moral values. One cannot choose a scheme which simply 'copies' the facts, because no conceptual scheme is a mere 'copy' of the world. The notion of truth itself depends for its content on our standards of rational acceptability, and these in turn rest on and presuppose our values. Put schematically and too briefly, I am saying that theory of truth presupposes theory of rationality which in turn presupposes our theory of the good.

‘Theory of the good', however, is not only programmatic, but is itself dependent upon assumptions about human nature, about society, about the universe (including theological and metaphysical assumptions). We have had to revise our theory of the good (such as it is) again and again as our knowledge has increased and our world-view has changed.

It has become clear that in the conception I am defending there is no such thing as a 'foundation'. And at this point people become worried: are we not close to the view that there is no difference between 'justified' and 'justified by our lights' (relativism) or even 'justified by my lights' (a species of solipsism)?

The position of the solipsist is indeed the one we will land in if we try to stand outside the conceptual system to which the concept of rationality belongs and simultaneously pretend to offer a more 'rational' notion of rationality! (Many thinkers have fallen into Nietzsche's error of telling us they had a 'better' morality than the entire tradition; in each case they only produced a monstrosity, for all they could do was arbitrarily wrench certain values out of their context while ignoring others.) We can only hope to produce a more rational conception of rationality or a better conception of morality if we operate from within our tradition (with its echoes of the Greek agora, of Newton, and so on, in the case of rationality, and with its echoes of scripture, of the philosophers, of the democratic revolutions, and so on, in the case of morality); but this is not at all to say that all is entirely reasonable and well with the conceptions we now have. We are not trapped in individual solipsistic hells, but invited to engage in a truly human dialogue; one which combines collectivity with individual responsibility.

– Hilary Putnam in Reason, Truth, and History (1981)

In which Leo Strauss and Jeremy Bentham encounter the ghost of Aristotle

Hilary Putnam’s Truth, Reason, and History (itself an excursion prompted by Richard Rorty’s Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature) sent me down the rabbit-hole of investigating the life and thought of arch-utilitarian, Jeremy Bentham. (For context, see my previous post, which includes a lengthy quotation from Putnam that touches on Bentham and Bernard Williams.) I was intrigued to learn (from the Libertarians, no less!) that Bentham was highly critical of natural rights, which he considered to be pernicious fictions promoted by revolutionaries to subvert law and order.

With Natural Right and History by Leo Strauss in mind, and as part of my exploration of large language models in the service of a Langara College working group on generative AI, I decided it would be fun to set a creative test for Microsoft’s “AI companion,” Copilot, in this philosophical context.

PROMPT: Develop a Platonic dialog between Jeremy Bentham and Leo Strauss on the topic of natural right. Interrupt this dialog at an appropriate juncture with an appearance by the ghost of Aristotle, who changes the course of the conversation with his view on the role of government in enforcing natural rights.

RESPONSE:

A Platonic Dialogue between Jeremy Bentham and Leo Strauss on Natural Right

Characters:

• Jeremy Bentham (B)

• Leo Strauss (S)

• Ghost of Aristotle (A)

Setting: A quiet garden in an academic institution, where Bentham and Strauss meet to discuss their views on natural right.

B: Good day, Mr. Strauss. I understand you have some strong views on natural right. I must say, I find the concept rather perplexing and, dare I say, nonsensical.

S: Good day, Mr. Bentham. Indeed, I do hold natural right in high regard. It is a concept deeply rooted in the rational order of nature, as understood by the ancients.

B: Ah, the ancients. You mean those who believed in inherent rights bestowed by nature? I find such notions to be mere fictions, invented to justify rebellion and anarchy. Rights, in my view, are the creations of legal systems, not nature.

S: I see where you are coming from. However, I believe that natural right, as conceived by philosophers like Plato and Aristotle, is not about anarchy but about understanding the rational order of the world. It provides a framework for justice that transcends positive law.

B: But how can we base our moral and legal systems on something so abstract and variable? Natural rights are, as I have said, “nonsense upon stilts.” They lack the concrete foundation that legal rights possess.

S: Natural right, Mr. Bentham, is not as abstract as you might think. It is about recognizing a hierarchy of ends that are universally valid, even if the specific rules of action to achieve these ends can vary with circumstances. This flexibility is what makes natural right adaptable to different contexts.

B: Flexibility, you say? To me, that sounds like a recipe for inconsistency and confusion. How can we ensure justice if our moral principles are so malleable?

S: The flexibility of natural right does not imply inconsistency. Rather, it acknowledges the complexity of human life and the need for moral principles that can adapt to different situations. Unlike the rigid rules of natural law, natural right allows for a more nuanced approach to justice.

B: I remain unconvinced. My utilitarian approach focuses on the greatest happiness for the greatest number, a clear and measurable goal. Natural right, with its talk of hierarchies and ends, seems too nebulous to guide practical decision-making.

S: Utilitarianism, while pragmatic, often overlooks the deeper values and commitments that define human life. Natural right, as I see it, provides a richer moral framework that respects these values. It is not merely about outcomes but about the principles that guide our actions.

B: Principles are all well and good, but without concrete outcomes, they are of little use. My concern is with the tangible effects of our actions on human happiness.

S: And that is where we differ, Mr. Bentham. While I do not dismiss the importance of outcomes, I believe that a focus solely on consequences can lead to a neglect of the moral integrity and the deeper purposes that give life meaning.

B: Perhaps we shall have to agree to disagree. Your natural right remains, to me, an elegant but impractical ideal.

S: And your utilitarianism, Mr. Bentham, while practical, may sometimes miss the profound truths about human nature and justice. But such is the beauty of philosophical discourse—we challenge and refine each other’s views.

B: Indeed, Mr. Strauss. It has been a stimulating conversation. Until next time.

S: Until next time, Mr. Bentham.

(Suddenly, a ghostly figure appears, interrupting their conversation.)

A: Gentlemen, I could not help but overhear your discussion. I am Aristotle, and I have come to offer my perspective on the role of government in enforcing natural rights.

B: Aristotle! This is quite unexpected. Please, enlighten us with your wisdom.

S: Indeed, Aristotle. Your views on natural right and the role of the polis are most welcome.

A: Thank you. In my view, the role of government is to cultivate virtue and ensure the good life for its citizens. Natural rights are not merely abstract principles but are grounded in the nature of human beings as rational and social creatures. The government must create conditions that allow individuals to fulfill their potential and achieve eudaimonia, or flourishing.

B: But how does this translate into practical governance? How can a government enforce such lofty ideals?

A: The government must enact laws that promote justice and the common good. These laws should be based on the natural order and the rational nature of human beings. It is through the enforcement of just laws that the government can protect natural rights and ensure that citizens live virtuous lives.

S: This aligns with my view that natural right involves a hierarchy of ends. The government must recognize and uphold these ends to create a just society.

B: I see. So, you believe that the government’s role is to enforce laws that reflect the natural order and promote human flourishing?

A: Precisely. The laws must be just and aligned with the rational nature of human beings. This is how the government can protect natural rights and ensure the well-being of its citizens.

S: Thank you, Aristotle. Your insights have added a valuable dimension to our discussion.

B: Indeed, Aristotle. Your perspective has given me much to consider. Perhaps there is more to natural right than I initially thought.

A: I am glad to have contributed to your understanding. Remember, the pursuit of wisdom is a lifelong journey. Farewell, gentlemen.

(The ghost of Aristotle fades away, leaving Bentham and Strauss deep in thought.)

An adequate conception of the better

Imagine a society of farmers who, for some reason, have a total disinterest in the arts, in science (except in such products as assist them in farming), in religion, in short, in everything spiritual or cultural. (I don't mean to suggest that actual peasant societies are or ever have been like this.) These people need not be imagined as being bad people; imagine them as cooperative, pacific, reasonably kind to one another, if you like. What I wish the reader to imagine is that their interests are limited to such minimal goals as getting enough to eat, warm shelter, and such simple pleasures as getting drunk together in the evenings. In short, imagine them as living a relatively animal' existence, and as not wishing to live any other kind of existence.

Such people are not immoral. There is nothing impermissible about their way of life. But our natural tendency (unless we are entranced with Ethical Relativism) is to say that their way of life is in some way contemptible. It is totally lacking in what Aristotle called 'nobility'. They are living the lives of swine – amiable swine, perhaps, but still swine, and a pig's life is no life for a man.

At the same time – and this is the rub – we are disinclined to say the pig-men are in any way irrational. This may be the result of our long acculturation in the Benthamite use of 'rational' and ‘irrational', but, be that as it may, it is our present disposition. The lives of the pig-men are not as good as they might be, we want to say, but they are not irrational.

We do not want to say that it is just a matter of taste whether one lives a better or worse life. We don't see how we can say that it is rational to choose the better life and irrational to choose the worse. Yet not saying some such things seems precisely to be saying that 'it's all relative'; the ground crumbles beneath our feet.

Perhaps some of the corrections to Benthamite psychology suggested by Bernard Williams will help with this case. Let us assume the pig-men are born with normal human potential (if they aren't, then their lives aren't worse than they might be, and we are not justified in feeling contempt, but only, at most, pity). Then they might be led to appreciate artistic, scientific, and spiritual aspects of life; to live more truly human lives, so to speak. And if any of them did this, they would doubtless prefer those lives (even though they might be less fun) to the lives they are now living. People who live swinish lives feel shame when they come to live more human lives; people who live more human lives do not feel ashamed that they did when they sink into swinishness. These facts give one grounds for thinking that the pig-men are making the sort of error, the sort of cognitive short-fall, that Williams discussed; grounds for thinking that they have overlooked alternative goals, and certainly grounds for thinking that they have never made vivid to themselves what realization of those alternative goals would be like. In short, one cannot really say that they have chosen the worse life; for they never had an adequate conception of the better.

– Hilary Putnam in Reason, Truth, and History (1981)

An invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country

“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country ... We are governed, our minds are moulded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of. This is a logical result of the way in which our democratic society is organized. Vast numbers of human beings must cooperate in this manner if they are to live together as a smoothly functioning society ... In almost every act of our daily lives, whether in the sphere of politics or business, in our social conduct or our ethical thinking, we are dominated by the relatively small number of persons ... who understand the mental processes and social patterns of the masses. It is they who pull the wires which control the public mind.””

— Edward Bernays in Propaganda (1928)

With its enormous inertia will triumph

“Experience has taught us again and again that ... automatism is far more powerful than the will of any individual; and should someone possess a more independent will, he or she must conceal it behind a ritually anonymous mask in order to have an opportunity to enter the power hierarchy at all. And when the individual finally gains a place there and tries to make his or her will felt within it, that automatism, with its enormous inertia, will triumph sooner or later, and either the individual will be ejected by the power structure like a foreign organism, or he or she will be compelled to resign his or her individuality gradually, once again blending with the automatism and becoming its servant, almost indistinguishable from those who preceded him or her and those who will follow.”

— Václav Havel in The Power of the Powerless (1979 as samizdat)