I'm not sure Kant's rule (and its companion in idea, the Golden Rule) are actually deontological. Such a rule feels different in kind from "thou shalt not commit adultery." It actually is a rule that looks at the consequences of one's actions--will the choice you make be something you can take yourself if that choice is applied to you? It doesn't depend on any model of virtue. So it seems to be in its own category. Are there really only three categories for looking at ethics?
It has its limits. In the parking/bike lane example mentioned elsewhere in this discussion, the decision maker's use of it can depend on whether s/he cares about parking. "I wouldn't mind losing parking since I don't drive" slants the decision to bike lanes. But the broader question might be framed as "would you agree that a long-standing situation (that you relied on to make your choice of where to live) should be overturned for the greater good of people who didn't make choices based on that reliance." That might lead to a different application of the Golden Rule by even those who don't drive.
Seems to me that the whole conundrum shows the limits of using models to describe anything complex without taking into account the boundaries of the model.
I have a silly example, but it is something that got me thinking about freedom/ethics in the world and has been with me ever since. I'd want to see whether this contributes anything to our conversation.
So you've probably have witnessed this in gradeschool: little Sally wants to use the restroom. She asks the teacher "Can I use the restroom?" she inquires of the teacher. "I don't know, Sally, *can* you?" says the teacher. So Sally realizes what she really means is "may I". The ability (can) to do then is only hindered by some obvious obstruction (like something physically barring Sally from just walking to the bathroom). In a world absence of ethics there is just pure ability (can) in the world, especially when there is nobody else involved. You get other people involved and then after you have determined you could do the thing, the next thing, ethically, is whether you ought to do it or not.
Determining whether Sally is allowed to use the restroom involves considering both deontological and consequentialist elements.
For example, asking if she may use the restroom rather than can acknowledges there are rules or norms (deontology) governing her freedom in this situation. Simply being able to use the restroom physically (can) differs from having permission (may).
However, the rules around giving children permission also take into account consequences. For example, allowing breaks prevents accidents but also ensures learning isn't unduly disrupted.
Most real-world ethical decisions involve balancing different considerations in a nuanced way. You may say in this situation that both the rules (deontology) and outcomes (consequentialism) matter.
Virtue ethics, as you point out, provides a framework for navigating complex situations by drawing on accumulated wisdom and examples of virtuous behavior over time. Determining what response is virtuous involves understanding both norms/rules and consequences.
So let us say that Sally passes step one that she use can physically go to the restroom without obvious obstruction, but she could bypass step two by sneaking out of the classroom and sneaking back in. If she were successful at that would a consequentialist be concerned here? Maybe, until one day she gets caught then Sally realizes it was more trouble than just asking and dealing with whether she was allowed to or not.
She would recognize there are norms/rules around asking permission that reflect virtues like obedience, respect for authority, and orderliness. Simply going to the bathroom without asking risks consequences like getting in trouble if caught, which could undermine virtues like honesty and responsibility. Sneaking away risks even more negative consequences from getting caught, being very much at odds with virtues of integrity, trustworthiness, etc.
A virtuous person's model in this case would likely be one who follows the rules/norms, even if it means a brief delay, as that aligns more closely with being a good student and trustworthy individual.
Sally's goal under virtue ethics wouldn't just be avoiding permission, but acting in a way that exemplifies virtues overall based on her understanding of role models and social norms. Virtue ethics doesn't just consider rules/consequences in isolation, but how following or subverting them impacts one's character and virtues holistically. There are rarely simple or single-factor answers when real virtue is at stake.
The bathroom scenario Sally faces illustrates how virtue ethics navigates complexity better than other approaches. While she could physically access the bathroom, simply following her ability (can) ignores norms of permission (may). Granting permission considers outcomes like learning disruption. However, virtue ethics goes further.
As you note, virtue ethics relies on internalized models of virtuous behavior. In Sally's role as student, she models obedience and respect for authority by asking first. Though a brief delay, this aligns with virtues of responsibility and orderliness. Alternatively, sneaking away risks negative consequences of getting caught undermining honesty and trustworthiness.
By drawing on accumulated wisdom of virtues, Sally recognizes the most ethical choice exceeds rules or consequences alone. It requires acting consistently with her virtuous role to maintain integrity and trust over self-interest. This holistic perspective is why virtue ethics provides the most satisfactory framework in navigating real-world dilemmas with nuance rather than simplistic models. Sally's scenario demonstrates virtue ethics' superiority in balancing complex factors.
The obvious limitation with my example is of course we're talking about a grade school kid with a brain not yet fully developed, but at that age I think we all had some idea of these ethical principles and consequences to actions, I just did not have the vocabulary to describe them as I do now and as we interact with the world we gradually learn more.
It's painful to read an entire essay on comparing systems of ethics that doesn't include a single concrete example.
But in a way, it's very illustrative of the entire approach of virtue ethics, where "the details don't matter too much". The entire approach of virtue ethics is just sooooo vague that it's completely unequipped to operate in the real world, and so it conspicuously never attempts to give examples of use -- because, fundamentally, it cannot.
Virtue ethics is a system of ethics that only "works" in cases where nobody needs a system of ethics, because it's not a system at all. There's nothing systematic about it. It's just a loosey-goosey collection of vibes that refuses to ever decide anything, let alone attempt to decide *correctly* in tough cases. How can anyone take that seriously?
***
Let me give an actual concrete example, ripped from the headlines, where people will passionately argue for or against a proposition. In the neighborhood of Parc-Ex, the city plans on building a new protected bike path. This new bike path, the city argues, will allow bike users to ride safely in the neighborhood, where currently they must kind of slalom unsafely within car traffic. This should benefit younger residents (letting them bike around), the ~50% of residents who don't own a car, and alleviate some car traffic by moving it to bikes. And within the context of climate change, it's argued that transitioning some car transit to bike transit is generally a necessity anyway, making for a less polluted, less noisy, and less unsafe environment.
However, this bike path plan must remove a significant amount of car parking spaces, in a dense area where homes don't have dedicated parking spaces. And so many current residents feel themselves betrayed by this plan, arguing that their own livelihood and safety (from the parking spaces they currently rely on) is being sacrificed for bike riders that come from elsewhere. Elderly residents, who have lived there for a long time, are generally the most vocal in their opposition. They argue that the change is a kind of bait-and-switch, where the city de facto told residents to rely on street parking for decades, before yanking it away now. And the argument of bike paths being mostly unused during winter is an evergreen one.
So this is a real-world example where ethics clash. It's full of tradeoffs - should the vague, implicit promises of the past be honored, even at the vague, indirect environmental costs of car traffic? Should we weigh the opinions of people living on that street (who lose parking spaces directly) more than those living a few blocks away (who benefit from the bike path without suffering from loss of parking)? Should the city impose its vision for the ostensible good of all, despite protests by a significant minority, or shrug its shoulders and toss the decision to a referendum, in the name of direct representativity (which you might think is even more important)?
***
Faced with a tough situation like this, consequentialism says that there is no way out except to actually answer each one of these tough questions, weigh them all against each other, and think hard about which final expected outcome is the one we prefer, when all is said and done. Yes this is hard and subjective, but it's necessary, says consequentialism. There's no actual alternative. You gotta dive into the details, because they matter.
A consequentialist can say something like: yes, I agree that it sucks for current residents who lose street parking, but we think that the greater good brought by increased safety and mobility for a greater population is worth paying that price, so we'll go ahead with that plan anyway. Or they can try to amend the plan to preserve some parking, to lessen the expected negative consequences. Or they can reject the plan entirely, if they make a different analysis and find the expected consequences intolerable. Within consequentialism, you're constantly looking at the actual concrete details, and trying to figure out the concrete future consequences of each option. It's the grown-up approach.
Virtue ethics, by comparison... has literally no answer to give here. It's really just about weak vibes, and punting the actual thinking to someone else. It's the kid's approach, who refuses to think for himself. Would Aristotle choose to make the bike path? Would Tolkien, or Elvis, or Superman, or Saint-Exupéry, or whoever else you like choose it?
1) Who the hell knows, they're dead and nobody can ask them.
2) Even if we could ask them, why would we even care? How about just thinking for yourself.
3) Even if you care about what other people think, whose opinion should you care about? Different people will have different opinions. So you're stuck having to think for yourself anyway.
Even trying to put this "approach" on an even footing with consequentialism, given a concrete example, makes it clear how much of a system it isn't. It's high time we stopped giving virtue ethics the respect it doesn't deserve.
Hear hear. But more so. Virtue ethics, at least the Stoic variety, is explicitly located in actual human experience at its best; Cicero, De Officiis, Book I. We see someone acting productively for the community in ways we can identify as 'wisely' or 'bravely,' and that inspires us to do the same. Also, again for the Stoics, parental love is part of the glue of society, and thus of the cosmos at large.
I'm not sure Kant's rule (and its companion in idea, the Golden Rule) are actually deontological. Such a rule feels different in kind from "thou shalt not commit adultery." It actually is a rule that looks at the consequences of one's actions--will the choice you make be something you can take yourself if that choice is applied to you? It doesn't depend on any model of virtue. So it seems to be in its own category. Are there really only three categories for looking at ethics?
It has its limits. In the parking/bike lane example mentioned elsewhere in this discussion, the decision maker's use of it can depend on whether s/he cares about parking. "I wouldn't mind losing parking since I don't drive" slants the decision to bike lanes. But the broader question might be framed as "would you agree that a long-standing situation (that you relied on to make your choice of where to live) should be overturned for the greater good of people who didn't make choices based on that reliance." That might lead to a different application of the Golden Rule by even those who don't drive.
Seems to me that the whole conundrum shows the limits of using models to describe anything complex without taking into account the boundaries of the model.
I have a silly example, but it is something that got me thinking about freedom/ethics in the world and has been with me ever since. I'd want to see whether this contributes anything to our conversation.
So you've probably have witnessed this in gradeschool: little Sally wants to use the restroom. She asks the teacher "Can I use the restroom?" she inquires of the teacher. "I don't know, Sally, *can* you?" says the teacher. So Sally realizes what she really means is "may I". The ability (can) to do then is only hindered by some obvious obstruction (like something physically barring Sally from just walking to the bathroom). In a world absence of ethics there is just pure ability (can) in the world, especially when there is nobody else involved. You get other people involved and then after you have determined you could do the thing, the next thing, ethically, is whether you ought to do it or not.
Determining whether Sally is allowed to use the restroom involves considering both deontological and consequentialist elements.
For example, asking if she may use the restroom rather than can acknowledges there are rules or norms (deontology) governing her freedom in this situation. Simply being able to use the restroom physically (can) differs from having permission (may).
However, the rules around giving children permission also take into account consequences. For example, allowing breaks prevents accidents but also ensures learning isn't unduly disrupted.
Most real-world ethical decisions involve balancing different considerations in a nuanced way. You may say in this situation that both the rules (deontology) and outcomes (consequentialism) matter.
Virtue ethics, as you point out, provides a framework for navigating complex situations by drawing on accumulated wisdom and examples of virtuous behavior over time. Determining what response is virtuous involves understanding both norms/rules and consequences.
So let us say that Sally passes step one that she use can physically go to the restroom without obvious obstruction, but she could bypass step two by sneaking out of the classroom and sneaking back in. If she were successful at that would a consequentialist be concerned here? Maybe, until one day she gets caught then Sally realizes it was more trouble than just asking and dealing with whether she was allowed to or not.
She would recognize there are norms/rules around asking permission that reflect virtues like obedience, respect for authority, and orderliness. Simply going to the bathroom without asking risks consequences like getting in trouble if caught, which could undermine virtues like honesty and responsibility. Sneaking away risks even more negative consequences from getting caught, being very much at odds with virtues of integrity, trustworthiness, etc.
A virtuous person's model in this case would likely be one who follows the rules/norms, even if it means a brief delay, as that aligns more closely with being a good student and trustworthy individual.
Sally's goal under virtue ethics wouldn't just be avoiding permission, but acting in a way that exemplifies virtues overall based on her understanding of role models and social norms. Virtue ethics doesn't just consider rules/consequences in isolation, but how following or subverting them impacts one's character and virtues holistically. There are rarely simple or single-factor answers when real virtue is at stake.
The bathroom scenario Sally faces illustrates how virtue ethics navigates complexity better than other approaches. While she could physically access the bathroom, simply following her ability (can) ignores norms of permission (may). Granting permission considers outcomes like learning disruption. However, virtue ethics goes further.
As you note, virtue ethics relies on internalized models of virtuous behavior. In Sally's role as student, she models obedience and respect for authority by asking first. Though a brief delay, this aligns with virtues of responsibility and orderliness. Alternatively, sneaking away risks negative consequences of getting caught undermining honesty and trustworthiness.
By drawing on accumulated wisdom of virtues, Sally recognizes the most ethical choice exceeds rules or consequences alone. It requires acting consistently with her virtuous role to maintain integrity and trust over self-interest. This holistic perspective is why virtue ethics provides the most satisfactory framework in navigating real-world dilemmas with nuance rather than simplistic models. Sally's scenario demonstrates virtue ethics' superiority in balancing complex factors.
The obvious limitation with my example is of course we're talking about a grade school kid with a brain not yet fully developed, but at that age I think we all had some idea of these ethical principles and consequences to actions, I just did not have the vocabulary to describe them as I do now and as we interact with the world we gradually learn more.
It's painful to read an entire essay on comparing systems of ethics that doesn't include a single concrete example.
But in a way, it's very illustrative of the entire approach of virtue ethics, where "the details don't matter too much". The entire approach of virtue ethics is just sooooo vague that it's completely unequipped to operate in the real world, and so it conspicuously never attempts to give examples of use -- because, fundamentally, it cannot.
Virtue ethics is a system of ethics that only "works" in cases where nobody needs a system of ethics, because it's not a system at all. There's nothing systematic about it. It's just a loosey-goosey collection of vibes that refuses to ever decide anything, let alone attempt to decide *correctly* in tough cases. How can anyone take that seriously?
***
Let me give an actual concrete example, ripped from the headlines, where people will passionately argue for or against a proposition. In the neighborhood of Parc-Ex, the city plans on building a new protected bike path. This new bike path, the city argues, will allow bike users to ride safely in the neighborhood, where currently they must kind of slalom unsafely within car traffic. This should benefit younger residents (letting them bike around), the ~50% of residents who don't own a car, and alleviate some car traffic by moving it to bikes. And within the context of climate change, it's argued that transitioning some car transit to bike transit is generally a necessity anyway, making for a less polluted, less noisy, and less unsafe environment.
However, this bike path plan must remove a significant amount of car parking spaces, in a dense area where homes don't have dedicated parking spaces. And so many current residents feel themselves betrayed by this plan, arguing that their own livelihood and safety (from the parking spaces they currently rely on) is being sacrificed for bike riders that come from elsewhere. Elderly residents, who have lived there for a long time, are generally the most vocal in their opposition. They argue that the change is a kind of bait-and-switch, where the city de facto told residents to rely on street parking for decades, before yanking it away now. And the argument of bike paths being mostly unused during winter is an evergreen one.
So this is a real-world example where ethics clash. It's full of tradeoffs - should the vague, implicit promises of the past be honored, even at the vague, indirect environmental costs of car traffic? Should we weigh the opinions of people living on that street (who lose parking spaces directly) more than those living a few blocks away (who benefit from the bike path without suffering from loss of parking)? Should the city impose its vision for the ostensible good of all, despite protests by a significant minority, or shrug its shoulders and toss the decision to a referendum, in the name of direct representativity (which you might think is even more important)?
***
Faced with a tough situation like this, consequentialism says that there is no way out except to actually answer each one of these tough questions, weigh them all against each other, and think hard about which final expected outcome is the one we prefer, when all is said and done. Yes this is hard and subjective, but it's necessary, says consequentialism. There's no actual alternative. You gotta dive into the details, because they matter.
A consequentialist can say something like: yes, I agree that it sucks for current residents who lose street parking, but we think that the greater good brought by increased safety and mobility for a greater population is worth paying that price, so we'll go ahead with that plan anyway. Or they can try to amend the plan to preserve some parking, to lessen the expected negative consequences. Or they can reject the plan entirely, if they make a different analysis and find the expected consequences intolerable. Within consequentialism, you're constantly looking at the actual concrete details, and trying to figure out the concrete future consequences of each option. It's the grown-up approach.
Virtue ethics, by comparison... has literally no answer to give here. It's really just about weak vibes, and punting the actual thinking to someone else. It's the kid's approach, who refuses to think for himself. Would Aristotle choose to make the bike path? Would Tolkien, or Elvis, or Superman, or Saint-Exupéry, or whoever else you like choose it?
1) Who the hell knows, they're dead and nobody can ask them.
2) Even if we could ask them, why would we even care? How about just thinking for yourself.
3) Even if you care about what other people think, whose opinion should you care about? Different people will have different opinions. So you're stuck having to think for yourself anyway.
Even trying to put this "approach" on an even footing with consequentialism, given a concrete example, makes it clear how much of a system it isn't. It's high time we stopped giving virtue ethics the respect it doesn't deserve.
Curious: do you have an English translation of your review of //Faire la morale// available?
I really enjoyed this piece, and I'd like to dive deeper. I can't find Gibert's text in translation and my French is quite rusty.
Tyler Cowen posted this week about how JS Mill reconciled conflicts between liberty and utility by trusting people to engage in character development (which sounds a lot like virtue to me). Always interesting when some niche topic like the convergence of ethical systems is suddenly in the air. https://marginalrevolution.com/marginalrevolution/2023/11/john-stuart-mill-and-character-development.html
Hear hear. But more so. Virtue ethics, at least the Stoic variety, is explicitly located in actual human experience at its best; Cicero, De Officiis, Book I. We see someone acting productively for the community in ways we can identify as 'wisely' or 'bravely,' and that inspires us to do the same. Also, again for the Stoics, parental love is part of the glue of society, and thus of the cosmos at large.