morality is subjective essay

Home — Essay Samples — Psychology — Morality — Subjectivity of Morality: Analysis of Arguments

Subjectivity of Morality: Analysis of Arguments

Categories: Morality

About this sample

Words: 1407 |

Published: Sep 5, 2023

Words: 1407 | Pages: 3 | 8 min read

Introduction, the debate on subjectivity of morality, the implications of subjectivity of morality, the implications of objectivity of morality.

Cite this Essay

To export a reference to this article please select a referencing style below:

Let us write you an essay from scratch

450+ experts on 30 subjects ready to help
Custom essay delivered in as few as 3 hours

Get high-quality help

Verified writer

Expert in: Psychology

+ 120 experts online

By clicking “Check Writers’ Offers”, you agree to our terms of service and privacy policy . We’ll occasionally send you promo and account related email

No need to pay just yet!

Related Essays

2 pages / 717 words

1 pages / 505 words

1 pages / 440 words

1 pages / 450 words

Remember! This is just a sample.

You can get your custom paper by one of our expert writers.

121 writers online

Still can’t find what you need?

Browse our vast selection of original essay samples, each expertly formatted and styled

Related Essays on Morality

Kohlberg, Lawrence. 'The Philosophy of Moral Development: Moral Stages and the Idea of Justice.' Harper & Row, 1981.Rest, James R. 'Development in Judging Moral Issues.' University of Minnesota, 1979.Turiel, Elliot. 'The [...]

Press, Oxford Living Dictionaries. 'Morals.' Oxford Living Dictionaries, 2019.Pojman, Louis P. 'The Theory of Ethics: Moral Objectivism.' In Ethics: Discovering Right and Wrong, pp. 12-31. Cengage Learning, 2011.Editors, [...]

General Zaroff, the antagonist in Richard Connell's short story "The Most Dangerous Game," is a character with a complex set of characteristics that make him both captivating and repulsive to readers. As we delve into his [...]

In Mark Twain's famous book, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, superstition is a big deal. It shapes how characters act and what they believe. By showing different superstitious ideas and habits, Twain talks about the power [...]

When I first watched "Miss Evers' Boys," I felt physically sick. Here was a nurse, someone meant to heal, participating in a study where African American men were deliberately left untreated for syphilis. Even more disturbing [...]

Live in such a way that if someone spoke badly of you, no one would ever believe it. The philosophical study of values has a name, actually it's called "axiology". It studies the metaphysical and epistemological status of [...]

Get Your Personalized Essay in 3 Hours or Less!

We use cookies to personalyze your web-site experience. By continuing we’ll assume you board with our cookie policy .

Instructions Followed To The Letter
Deadlines Met At Every Stage
Unique And Plagiarism Free

Epistemology
Metaphysics
Reflections
Submission Guidelines
Style Guidelines
Link Guidelines
Privacy Policy
Terms of Service
Legal Notices

Is Morality Subjective? – A Reply to Critics

1. Introduction
Previous Page

Allan, Leslie 2020. Is Morality Subjective? – A Reply to Critics, URL = <https://www.rationalrealm.com/philosophy/ethics/is-morality-subjective-reply-critics.html>.

2. Acting Morally Sometimes Requires Acting Impartially
3. Impartiality Principle Contradicts Valuing Feelings
4. People Disagree in Their Moral Judgements
5. Impartiality Is a Personal Opinion
6. Demarcation Is an Answer without a Problem
7. Impartiality Is Only a Contingent Feature of Ethics
8. Sophisticated Emotivism Is a Subjectivist Meta-ethic
9. Epilogue

Since publishing my short essay, Is Morality Subjective? [Allan 2015a], I received a lot of interest and engaged in a number of conversations about the ideas I presented. Unsurprisingly, my argument for objectivity in ethics garnered a pleasing level of support while at the same time attracting a level of criticism. In this essay, my intention is to collect up the major criticisms of my thesis and respond to them. I have not identified the authors of each objection in order to respect their privacy and because the objections considered here were advanced by two or more people. The objections were also of a general nature, so knowing the author of particular criticisms does not aid understanding the point of each objection.

In my original essay, I argued that for a reason for action to be a moral reason, that reason must appeal to interests beyond that of the agent and the agent's preferred social group. It is in this sense of 'impartiality', I argued that morality is objective. I supported my case with two scenarios drawn from real life in which moral agents unsuccessfully attempt to support their actions with personally biased reasons. These two scenarios are of a similar vein to the following. I add it here to further illustrate the case I am making.

Imagine three friends in discussion over a vexed moral issue. They are discussing whether people enduring unbearable pain much of the time while suffering a terminal illness ought to be able to end their lives as they choose. One friend argues that they ought to have that right as people have a right to act autonomously unless the act harms someone else. The second friend argues that they ought not as instituting such a right will lead to abuse with some elderly coerced into ending their lives. The third friend also opines that the terminally ill should be prevented from choosing the manner of their death. When asked the reason for his view, the third friend replies, 'I just like it that way'. When pressed further by his other two friends, he insists that is just what he wants.

If we were observers to this conversation, we would readily acknowledge that the first two friends are offering a moral reason for their judgment. Their reasons are based on considerations broader than their own personal wants and preferences. Of course, we may disagree with one or both of their justifications, but we readily concede that they are advancing a moral argument.

Regarding the third friend, however, we would concede he is not offering a moral reason for his judgement at all. By exclusively appealing to his own personal preferences, he seems not to have engaged in the moral debate at all. We admit he may be advancing a prudential reason for his view. However, we would insist that he is not putting forward a moral justification for his position.

These kinds of scenarios demonstrate, I argued, that trying to underpin the objectivity of ethics with God's commands, intuited non-natural properties and the like is misguided. Objectivity in ethics, I argued, should not be contrasted with dismissing some supposedly 'objective' mysterious metaphysical realm. Objectivity is more properly contrasted with biased and prejudicial reasoning when deciding what we should do.

Many objections to my view attempted to reinstate the radical subjectivist view that the requirement for objectivity has no place in moral theory. Some critics attempted to show by way of counterexamples that it is sometimes morally excusable to act impartially. When I explained how the critics' notion of impartiality is overly simplistic and that a more nuanced and practical interpretation of the principle of impartiality actually warrants preferential treatment in some circumstances, some critics went on to charge me with duplicity. These critics claimed that my argument for impartiality is inconsistent with my warranting preferential treatment based on valuing human welfare.

Some critics agreed that impartiality figures highly in most people's moral reasoning, but objected that this was only a contingent feature of moral thinking. Other commentators simply pointed to the fact that a preference for impartiality is a personal opinion, and hence necessarily subjective. Others accepted that there is a logic to moral argumentation, but pointed out that there are a multiplicity of moral frameworks, each with their own inbuilt logic and with no meta-level criterion to choose between them. Another type of objection highlighted my promotion of sophisticated emotivism as a moral theory. These objectors argued that this position's focus on preferences showed my view to be essentially subjectivist. I deal with all of these objections in this rejoinder.

Drawing another scenario in my original essay, I went on to make another substantive point against the radical subjectivists' view. I argued that by treating all moral judgements simply as personal preferences, subjectivists fail to make a distinction that we all make naturally; the distinction between moral valuations and non-moral valuations. In my essay, I used the example in which Mary bakes a cake for her friends one time and regularly performs voluntary work for the disadvantaged. Whereas we recognize that saying Mary's cake is 'good' is a non-moral judgement while saying her volunteer work is 'good' is a moral valuation, the radical subjectivist is left in the unenviable position of not being able to draw this same distinction.

In response, critics adopt one of two replies. Some critics bite the bullet, maintaining that we don't need to make a distinction between moral and non-moral judgements at all. The other line of reply is to propose a fuzzy demarcation between the two based on interpersonal behaviour. I respond to both of these lines of attack.

All up, in the following sections, I consider seven objections in these two areas of criticism; the requirement for impartiality and the need for demarcation. Responding to these objections allows me to further clarify and expand on the thesis that the notion of impartiality is embedded within the concept of ethics.

Book cover: Human Rights in World History by Peter N. Stearns

Download this essay

High School
You don't have any recent items yet.
You don't have any courses yet.
You don't have any books yet.
You don't have any Studylists yet.
Information

Philosophy Essay

Great works in philosophy (philua2), new york university, students also viewed.

Article Review Form 1
Lect05 - n/a
Brindille - Texts about interesting topics for translation practice
La girafe - Texts about interesting topics for translation practice
Léopard - Texts about interesting topics for translation practice
Serpent - Texts about interesting topics for translation practice

Preview text

PHIL-UA 101: Objective vs. Subjective Morality Morality, a complex and multifaceted concept, has been the subject of debate among philosophers, theologians, and scholars for centuries. The crux of the discussion centers on whether morality is subjective, varying from person to person based on individual feelings and cultural influences, or objective, grounded in universal principles that apply to all humans regardless of personal belief or cultural background. This essay will explore arguments on both sides of the debate, examine the implications of each viewpoint, and attempt to offer a nuanced perspective on this enduring philosophical question. The Case for Subjective Morality Subjective morality posits that moral judgments and values are based on personal feelings, tastes, or opinions. This perspective is supported by the observable diversity in moral practices and beliefs across different cultures and historical periods. For example, practices considered morally acceptable in one culture, such as polygamy, may be deemed immoral in another. This variation suggests that morality is constructed by societies and individuals, shaped by social, cultural, and personal factors, rather than being derived from universal principles. Philosophers like David Hume and Friedrich Nietzsche have contributed significantly to this view. Hume argued that moral judgments stem from emotions or sentiments rather than objective reason. Nietzsche, on the other hand, critiqued the notion of universal morality, emphasizing the role of power, context, and historical contingencies in shaping moral values. From this perspective, morality is seen as a human invention, subject to change and interpretation according to individual and cultural preferences. The Case for Objective Morality Contrasting with subjective morality, objective morality holds that moral principles are universal and apply to all individuals, regardless of personal beliefs or cultural backgrounds. This viewpoint suggests that certain actions are inherently right or wrong, and moral truths exist independently of human opinion. Philosophers such as Plato, Immanuel Kant, and contemporary figures like John Finnis argue in favor of objective moral truths. Plato, through his theory of Forms, suggested that moral ideals exist in a realm of perfect Forms, accessible through reason. Kant introduced the concept of the categorical imperative, asserting that moral actions are those that can be universally applied and that respect individuals as ends in themselves. Objective morality is often rooted in religious or metaphysical beliefs, arguing that moral laws are given by a divine creator or are inherent in the structure of the universe. This perspective is appealing for its promise of moral clarity and stability, offering a foundation for judging actions and resolving moral dilemmas. Implications and Challenges Both subjective and objective views of morality have significant implications for ethical decision-making, law, and social policy. If morality is subjective, it suggests a pluralistic approach to ethics, where understanding and tolerance of diverse moral viewpoints are emphasized. This view can promote social

harmony but may also lead to moral relativism, where the ability to critically judge harmful practices within cultures becomes problematic. On the other hand, the belief in objective morality seeks to provide a solid foundation for human rights and justice, arguing for universal standards that can guide ethical decision-making and legislation. However, critics of objective morality point out the difficulty of establishing a universal moral code that is agreeable to all cultures and individuals, especially in a pluralistic and increasingly globalized world. A Nuanced Perspective A nuanced approach to the debate recognizes the merits and limitations of both subjective and objective morality. It acknowledges the influence of cultural and individual differences on moral judgment while also considering the possibility of certain universal moral principles that transcend cultural boundaries. This perspective suggests that while moral practices and interpretations may vary, some underlying principles, such as fairness, justice, and harm avoidance, are widely recognized across human societies. Philosophers like John Rawls and Martha Nussbaum have contributed to this middle ground. Rawls' theory of justice as fairness attempts to establish principles of justice that individuals would choose in an original position of equality. Nussbaum's capabilities approach outlines fundamental human entitlements that should be supported universally, focusing on what individuals are able to do and to be.

Multiple Choice

Course : Great Works in Philosophy (PHILUA2)

University : new york university.

More from: Great Works in Philosophy PHILUA2 New York University 8 Documents Go to course

How Morality Has the Objectivity that Matters—Without God

Ronald a. lindsay.

The thesis of this essay is that morality is not objective in the same way that statements of empirically verifiable facts are objective, yet morality is objective in the ways that matter: moral judgments are not arbitrary; we can have genuine disagreements about moral issues; people can be mistaken in their moral beliefs; and facts about the world are relevant to and inform our moral judgments. In other words, morality is not “subjective” as that term is usu ally interpreted. Moral judgments are not equivalent to descriptive statements about the world—factual assertions about cars, cats, and cabbages—but neither are they merely expressions of personal preferences.

This thesis has obvious importance to our understanding of morality. Moreover, this thesis has special relevance to humanists and other nonreligious people, because one of the most frequently made arguments against atheism is that it is incompatible with the position that morality is objective and that rejecting the objectivity of morality would have unacceptable consequences.

The Need for God: The Argument from Morality

For centuries now, those who argue for theism have been running out of room to maneuver. Things that once seemed to require a supernatural explanation—whether it was thunder, volcanoes, diseases, human cognition, or the existence of the solar system—have long since become the domain of science. (Admittedly, some, such as Bill O’Reilly, remain unaware that we can explain the regularity of certain phenomena, such as the tides, without reliance on divine intervention.) So the theists have changed tactics. Instead of using God to explain natural phenomena, theistic apologists have increasingly relied on arguing that God is indispensable for morality. At first, this contention often took the form of an accusation that atheists can’t be trusted; they’re immoral. In the last few decades, however, many theists have—in the face of overwhelming evidence—grudgingly conceded that at least some atheists can be good people. So has God now become irrelevant? Do we need a deity for anything?

Yes, says the theist. Sure, some individual atheists can be relied upon to act morally, but, as political commentator Michael Gerson put it, “Atheists can be good people; they just have no objective way to judge the conduct of those who are not.” In other words, without God, atheists cannot explain how there are objective moral truths, and without objective moral truths, atheists have no grounds for saying anything is morally right or wrong. We atheists might act appropriately, but we cannot rationally justify our actions; nor can we criticize those who fail to act appropriately.

Furthermore, this contention that God is required for morality to be objective has become the new weapon of choice for those wishing to argue for the existence of God. For example, the Christian apologist William Lane Craig has made what he regards as the reality of objective moral truths the key premise of one of his favorite arguments for the existence of God. According to Craig, there can be no objective moral truths without God, and since there are objective moral truths, God must exist.

One traditional counter to the argument that God is required to ground objective morality is that we cannot possibly rely on God to tell us what’s morally right and wrong. As Plato pointed out long ago in his dialogue Euthyphro , divine commands cannot provide a foundation for morality. From a moral perspective, we have no obligation to follow anyone’s command—whether it’s God’s, Putin’s, or Queen Elizabeth’s—just because it is a command. Rules of conduct based on the arbitrary fiats of someone more powerful than us are not equivalent to moral norms. Moreover, it is no solution to say that God commands only what is good. This response presupposes that we can tell good from bad, right from wrong, or, in other words, that we have our own independent standards for moral goodness. But if we have such independent standards, then we don’t need God to tell us what to do. We can determine what is morally right or wrong on our own.

This response to the theist is effective as far as it goes. Contrary to the theist, God cannot be the source of morality. However, this doesn’t address the concern that morality then loses its objectivity. It becomes a matter of personal preference. We cannot really criticize others for doing something morally wrong, because all we’re saying is “we don’t like that.”

It’s this fear that without God we’ll have a moral vacuum and descend into nihilism that sustains some in the conviction that there is a God or that we need to encourage belief in God regardless of the evidence to the contrary. It sustains belief in God (or belief in belief) even in the face of the argument from Euthyphro . Logic does not always triumph over emotion, and the dread that without God we have no moral grounding—“without God, everything is permitted”—can be a powerful influence on many.

The notion that God’s word is what counts and what makes the difference between moral and immoral actions comforts some because it provides them with the sense that there is something beyond us, something outside of our ourselves that we can look to determine whether some action is morally right or wrong. Is murdering someone wrong? Sure, God tells us that in the Bible. For the devout, that’s a fact. A fact that can be confirmed, just like the fact that ripe tomatoes are red, not blue. It’s not a matter of subjective opinion. And if morality isn’t objective, then it must be subjective, correct?

For these reasons—and also because we want a firm grounding for morality ourselves—it is incumbent upon humanists, and secular ethicists generally, to address squarely the contentions that without God there is no objectivity in morality and that this situation would be something dreadful. The problem is that most try to do this by arguing that morality is objective in a way similar to the way in which ordinary descriptive statements are objective. The better argument is that morality is neither objective nor subjective as those terms are commonly understood.

Secular Attempts to Make Morality Objective

Some secular ethicists have tried to supply substitutes for God as the moral measuring-stick while adhering to the notion that morality must be objective and that moral judgments can be determined to be true or false in ways similar to statements about the world. Some argue that facts have certain moral implications. In this way, morality is based on natural facts, and statements about morality can be determined to be true or false by reference to these facts. Often, the starting point for such arguments is to point out undisputed facts, such that pain is a bad thing and, all other things being equal, people avoid being in pain. Or, if one wants to approach the issue from the other direction, well-being is a good thing, and, all other things being equal, people want to have well-being. The argument will then proceed by using this foundation to argue that we have a moral obligation to avoid inflicting pain or to increase well-being. But this will not do. Granted, pain is “bad” in a nonmoral sense, and people don’t want it, but to say that inflicting pain on someone is presumptively morally bad implies we have some justification for saying that this action is morally bad, not just that it’s unwanted. From where does this moral obligation derive and how do we detect it?

The problem with trying to derive moral obligations directly from facts about the world is that it’s always open for someone to ask “Why do these facts impose a mo ral obligation?” Sure, well-being may be desirable, and I may want well-being for myself and those close to me, but that doesn’t imply that I am obliged to increase well-being in general. Certainly, it’s not inconsistent for people to say that they want well-being for themselves and those close to them, but that they feel no moral obligation to increase the well-being of people they don’t know. This is not the equivalent of saying ripe tomatoes are both red and blue simultaneously.

The difficulty in deriving moral obligations directly from discrete facts about the world was famously noted by the eighteenth-century Scottish philosopher David Hume, who remarked that from a statement about how things are—an “is” statement—we cannot infer a moral norm about how things should be—an “ought” statement. Despite various attempts to show Hume wrong, his argument was and is sound. Note that Hume did not say that facts are not relevant to moral judgments. Nor did he claim that our moral norms are subjective—although this is a position often mistakenly attributed to him. He did not assert that the truth of moral judgments is determined by referring to our inner states, which would be a subjectivist position. Instead, he maintained that a factual statement, considered in isolation, cannot imply a moral norm. An “is” statement and an “ought” statement are distinct classes of statements.

Some have tried to circumvent the difficulty in deriving moral obligations directly from factual statements by arguing that “nonnatural” facts or properties supply the grounding for morality. However, all such attempts to do so have foundered on the inability to describe with precision the nature of these mysterious nonnatural facts or properties and how it is we can know them. “Intuition” is sometimes offered as a method for knowing moral facts, but intuitions notoriously differ.

Derek Parfit, an Oxford scholar whom some regard as one of the most brilliant philosophers of our time (and I so regard him), recently produced a massive work on ethics titled On What Matters. This two-volume work covers a lot of ground, but one of its main claims is that morality is objective, and we can and do know moral truths but not because moral judgments describe some fact. Indeed, moral judgments do not describe anything in the external world, nor do they refer to our own feelings. There are no mystical moral or normative entities. Nonetheless, moral judgments express objective truths. Parfit’s solution? Ethics is analogous to mathematics. There are mathematical truths even though, on Parfit’s view, there are no such things as an ideal equation 2 + 2 = 4 existing somewhere in Plato’s heaven. Similarly, we have objectively valid moral reasons for not inflicting pain gratuitously even though there are no mystical moral entities to which we make reference when we declare, “Inflicting pain gratuitously is morally wrong.” To quote Parfit, “Like numbers and logical truths … normative properties and truths have no ontological status” ( On What Matters , vol. 2, p. 487).

Parfit’s proposed solution is ingenious because it avoids the troublesome issues presented when we tie moral judgments to facts about the world (or facts about our feelings). However, ingenuity does not ensure that a theory is right. Parfit provides no adequate explanation of how we know ethical truths, other than offering numerous examples where he maintains we clearly have a decisive reason for doing X rather than Y. In other words, at the end of the day he falls back on something such as intuition, with the main difference between his theory and other theories being that his intuitions do not reference anything that exists; instead they capture an abstract truth.

So secular attempts to provide an objective foundation for morality have been … well, less than successful. Does this imply we are logically required to embrace nihilism?

No. Let me suggest we need to back up and look at morality afresh. The whole notion that morality must be either entirely subjective or objective in some way comparable to factual (or in Parfit’s case, mathematical) truths is based on a misguided understanding of morality. It’s based on a picture of morality in which morality serves functions similar to factual descriptions (or mathematical theorems). We need to discard that picture. Let’s clear our minds and start anew.

The Functions of Morality

So, if we are starting from the ground up, let’s ask basic questions. Why should we have morality? What is its purpose? Note that I am not asking, “Why should I be moral?”—a question often posed in introductory philosophy courses. I do not mean to be dismissive of this question, but it raises a different set of issues than the ones we should concentrate on now. What I am interested in is reflection on the institution of morality as a whole. Why bother having morality?

One way to begin to answer this question is just to look at how morality functions, and has functioned, in human societies. What is it that morality allows us to do? What can we accomplish when (most) people behave morally that we would not be able to accomplish otherwise? Broadly speaking, morality appears to serve these related purposes: it creates stability, provides security, ameliorates harmful conditions, fosters trust, and facilitates cooperation in achieving shared and complementary goals. In other words, morality enables us to live together and, while doing so, to improve the conditions under which we live.

This is not necessarily an exhaustive list of the functions of morality, nor do I claim to have explained the functions in the most accurate and precise way possible. But I am confident that my list is a fair approximation of some of the key functions of morality.

How do moral norms serve these functions? In following moral norms we engage in behavior that enables these functions of morality to be fulfilled. When we obey norms like “don’t kill” and “don’t steal,” we help ensure the security and stability of society. It really doesn’t take a genius to figure out why, but that hasn’t stopped some geniuses from drawing our attention to the importance of moral norms. As the seventeenth-century English philosopher Thomas Hobbes and many others have pointed out, if we always had to fear being injured or having our property stolen, we could never have any rest. Our lives would be “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” Besides providing security and stability by prohibiting certain actions, moral norms also promote collaboration by encouraging certain actions and by providing the necessary framework for the critical practice of the “promise”—that is, a commitment that allows others to rely on me. Consider a simple example, one that could reflect circumstances in the Neolithic Era as much as today. I need a tool that you have to complete a project, so I ask you to lend it to me. You hesitate to lend me the tool, but you also believe you are obliged to help me if such help doesn’t significantly harm you. Moreover, I promise to return the tool. You lend me the tool; I keep my promise to return the tool. This exchange fosters trust between us. Both of us will be more inclined to cooperate with each other in the future. Our cooperation will likely improve our respective living conditions.

Multiply this example millions of times, and you get a sense of the numerous transactions among people that allow a peaceful, stable, prospering society to emerge. You also can imagine how conditions would deteriorate if moral norms were not followed. Going back to my tool example, let us imagine you do not respond positively to my request for assistance. This causes resentment and also frustrates my ability to carry out a beneficial project. I am also less likely to assist you if you need help. Or say you do lend me a tool, but I keep it instead of returning it as promised. This causes distrust, and you are less likely to assist me (and others) in the future. Multiplied many times, such failures to follow moral norms can result in mistrust, reduced cooperation, and even violence. If I do not return that tool peacefully, you may resort to brute force to reacquire it.

Fortunately, over time, humans have acted in ways that further the objectives of morality far more often than in ways that frustrate these objectives. Early humans were able to establish small communities that survived, in part, because most members of the community followed moral norms. These small communities eventually grew larger, again, in part because of moral norms. In this instance, what was critical was the extension of the scope or range of moral norms to those outside one’s immediate community. Early human communities were often at war with each other. Tribe members acted benevolently only to fellow members of their tribe; outsiders were not regarded as entitled to the same treatment. One of the earliest moral revolutions was the extension of cooperative behavior—almost surely based initially on trade—to members of other communities, which allowed for peaceful interaction and the coalescing of small human groups into larger groups. This process has been repeated over the millennia of human existence (with frequent, sanguinary interruptions) until we have achieved something like a global moral community.

This outline of morality and its history is so simple that I am sure some will consider it simplistic. I have covered in a couple of paragraphs what others devote thick tomes to. But it suffices for my purposes. The main points are that in considering morality, we can see that it serves certain functions, and these functions are related to human interests. Put another way, we can describe morality and its purposes without bringing God into the picture; moreover, we can see that morality is a practical enterprise, not a means for describing the world.

Moral Judgments Versus Factual Assertions

The practical function of morality is the key to understanding why moral judgments are not true or false in the same way that factual statements are true or false. The objective/subjective dichotomy implicitly assumes that moral judgments are used primarily to describe, so they must have either an objective or subjective reference. But, as indicated, moral judgments have various practical applications; they are not used primarily as descriptive statements.

Consider these two statements:

Kim is hitting Stephanie.

Without provocation, we ought not to hit people.

Do these statements have identical functions? I suggest that they do not. The first statement is used to convey factual information; it tells us about something that is happening. The second statement is in the form of a moral norm that reflects a moral judgment. Depending on the circumstances, the second statement can be used to instruct someone, condemn someone, admonish someone, exhort someone, confirm that the speaker endorses this norm, and so forth. The second statement has primarily practical, not descriptive, functions. Admittedly, in some circumstances, moral norms or descriptive counterparts of moral norms also can be used to make an assertion about the world, but they do not primarily serve to convey factual information.

In rejecting the proposition that moral judgments are equivalent to factual statements about the world, I am not endorsing the proposition that moral judgments are subjective. A subjective statement is still a descriptive statement that is determined to be true by reference to facts. It’s simply a descriptive statement referring to facts about our inner states—our desires, our sentiments—as opposed to something in the world. To claim that moral judgments are subjective is to claim that they are true or false based on how a particular person feels. That’s not how most of us regard moral judgments.

But if Moral Judgments Do Not Refer to Facts, How Do We Decide What’s Right and Wrong?

It’s obvious that people disagree about moral issues, but the extent of that disagreement is often exaggerated. The reality is that there is a core set of moral norms that almost all humans accept. We couldn’t live together otherwise. For humans to live together in peace and prosper, we need to follow norms such as do not kill, do not steal, do not inflict pain gratuitously, tell the truth, keep your commitments, reciprocate acts of kindness, and so forth. The number of core norms is small, but they govern most of the transactions we have with other humans. This is why we see these norms in all functioning human societies, past and present. Any community in which these norms were lacking could not survive for long. This shared core of moral norms represents the common heritage of civilized human society.

These shared norms also reflect the functions of morality as applied to the human condition. Earlier I observed that morality has certain functions; that is, it serves human interests and needs by creating stability, providing security, ameliorating harmful conditions, fostering trust, and facilitating cooperation in achieving shared and complementary goals. One can quibble about my wording, but that morality has something like these functions is beyond dispute. The norms of the common morality help to ensure that these functions are fulfilled by prohibiting killing, stealing, lying, and so forth. Given that humans are vulnerable to harm, that we depend upon the honesty and cooperation of others, and that we are animals with certain physical and social needs, the norms of the common morality are indispensable.

We can see now how morality has the type of objectivity that matters. If we regard morality as a set of practices that has something like the functions I described, then not just any norm is acceptable as a moral norm. “Lie to others and betray them” is not going to serve the functions of morality. Because of our common human condition, morality is not arbitrary; nor is it subjective in any pernicious sense. When people express fears about morality being subjective, they are concerned about the view that what’s morally permissible is simply what each person feels is morally permissible. But morality is not an expression of personal taste. Our common needs and interests place constraints on the content of morality. Similarly, if we regard morality as serving certain functions, we can see how facts about the world can inform our moral judgments. If morality serves to provide security and foster cooperation, then unprovoked assaults on others run counter to morality’s aims. Indeed, these are among the types of actions that norms of the common morality try to prevent. For this reason, when we are informed that Kim did hit Stephanie in the face without provocation, we quickly conclude that what Kim did was wrong, and her conduct should be condemned.

Note that in drawing that conclusion, we are not violating Hume’s Law. Facts by themselves do not entail moral judgments, but if we look upon morality as a set of practices that provide solutions to certain problems, for example, violence among members of the community, then we can see how facts are relevant to moral judgments. Part of the solution to violence among members of the community is to condemn violent acts and encourage peaceful resolution of disputes. Facts provide us with relevant information about how to best bring about this solution in particular circumstances.

Similarly, with a proper understanding of morality, we can also see how we can justify making inferences from factual statements to evaluative judgments. Recall that the fact/value gap prevents us from inferring a moral judgment from isolated statements of fact. But if we recognize and accept that morality serves certain functions and that the norms of the common morality help carry out these functions, the inference from facts to moral judgments is appropriate because we are not proceeding solely from isolated facts to moral judgments; instead, we are implicitly referencing the background institution of morality. An isolated factual observation cannot justify a moral judgment, but a factual observation embedded in a set of moral norms can justify a moral judgment.

Objection 1: Just Because Morality Serves Certain Functions Does Not Imply It Should Have Those Functions

At this point, the perceptive reader might object that even assuming that the functions of morality I have described correspond to functions served by morality, this does not address the question of what the functions of morality should be. Haven’t I just moved the fact/value gap back one step, from the level of an individual factual statement to the level of a description of the institution of morality as a whole? Put another way, explaining how morality functions doesn’t address the issue of how it should function.

This is a reasonable objection, but it is one I can meet. So let’s consider this issue: Should morality have objectives that reflect the functions of morality that I have described, that is, serving human interests and needs by creating stability, providing security, ameliorating harmful conditions, fostering trust, and facilitating cooperation in achieving shared and complementary goals? Perhaps the best way to answer this question is with another question: What’s the alternative? If morality should not aim to create stability, provide security, ameliorate harmful conditions, and so forth, what’s the point of morality otherwise? To increase the production of cheese? One could maintain that cheese production is an overriding imperative, and one could label this a moral imperative, but the reality is that for humans to live and work together we would still need something to fulfill the functions of what we now characterize as morality. Perhaps we’d call it “shmorality,” but we’d still have a similar body of norms and practices, whatever its name.

Granted, some philosophers have argued that morality should have objectives somewhat different than the ones I have outlined. Various philosophers have argued that morality should aim at maximizing happiness, or producing a greater balance of pleasure over pain, or producing virtuous characters. Without digressing into a long discussion of ethical theory, I believe these views grasp certain aspects of the moral enterprise, but they mistakenly elevate part of what we accomplish through morality into the whole of it. There is no single simple principle that governs morality. Yes, we want to encourage people to be virtuous—that is, to be kind, courageous, and trustworthy—but to what end? Likewise, we want people to be happy, but exactly how do we measure units of happiness, and how do we balance the happiness of different individuals against one another or against the happiness of the community? If we look at morality as a practical enterprise, something like the objectives I have outlined represents a better description of what we want morality to accomplish. (I say “something like” because I am not claiming to give the best possible description of morality’s objectives.)

Objection 2: I Haven’t Explained Why Moral Norms Are Obligatory

A second important objection to my argument is that I have not explained how it is that moral norms are binding on us. Even if we accept that there is a common morality, why must we follow these norms?

There are two types of answers I can give here. Both are important, so we need to keep them distinct. One answer would appeal to human psychology. The combination of our evolutionary inheritance and the moral training most of us receive disposes us to act morally. We should not lose sight of this fact because if we were not receptive to moral norms, no reference to a divine command, no appeal to an ethical argument, could ever move us to behave morally. For a moral norm to act as a motivating reason to do or refrain from doing something, we must be the type of person who can respond to moral norms. Ethicists as far back as Aristotle have recognized this. Good moral conduct owes much to moral training, and the most sublime exposition of the magnificence of the moral law will not persuade those who have been habituated into antisocial behavior.

But in addition to a casual explanation of why we feel a sense of moral obligation, we also want an explanation of the reason for acknowledging moral obligations. In my view, it’s largely a matter of logical consistency. If we accept the institution of morality, then we are tacitly agreeing to be bound by moral norms. We cannot logically maintain that moral norms apply to everyone except us. If we think it is morally wrong for others to break their promises to us, as a matter of logic we cannot say that we are under no obligation to keep our promises. In saying that an action is morally wrong, we are committed to making the same judgment regardless of whether it is I or someone else performing the action. In accepting the institution of morality, we are also accepting the obligations that come with this institution. Hence, there is a reason, not just a psychological cause, for acknowledging our obligation to follow moral norms.

What if someone rejects the institution of morality altogether? The perceptive reader will not have failed to notice that I italicized “if” when I stated, “ If we accept the institution of morality, then we are tacitly agreeing to be bound by moral norms.” I emphasized this condition precisely to draw attention to the fact that, as a matter of logic, there is nothing preventing an individual from rejecting the institution of morality entirely, from “opting out” of morality, as it were—that is, apart from the likely unpleasant consequences for that person of such a decision. There is nothing to be gained by pretending otherwise. There is no mystical intuition of “the moral law” that inexorably forces someone to accept the institution of morality. Nor is there any set of reasons whose irresistible logic compels a person to behave morally. Put another way, it is not irrational to reject the institution of morality altogether. One can coherently and consistently prefer what one regards as one’s own self-interest to doing the morally appropriate thing. However, leaving aside those who suffer from a pathological lack of empathy, few choose this path. Among other things, this would be a difficult decision to make psychologically.

That said, there is no guarantee that people will not make this choice. But notice that bringing God into the picture doesn’t change anything. People can make the decision to reject morality even if they think God has promulgated our shared moral norms. Indeed, many believers have made this decision, as evidenced by the individuals who throughout history have placed themselves outside the bounds of human society and have sustained themselves by preying on other humans. Many ruthless brigands and pirates have had no doubts about God’s existence. They robbed, raped, and murdered anyway.

You may say: “But what they did was objectively wrong”—and an atheist can’t say this. As you have admitted, there is nothing outside the institution of morality to validate this institution, so the obligations of morality are not really binding.” If one means by “objectively wrong” something that conforms to a standard of wrongness that exists completely independently of the human condition and our moral practices, then, correct, an atheist might not use “objectively wrong” in this sense. (Some ethicists who are atheists might, as I have already discussed.) But so what? First, as indicated by the Euthyphro argument, the notion that God could provide such an external standard is highly questionable. Second, and more important, what is lost by acknowledging that morality is a wholly human phenomenon that arose to respond to the need to influence behavior so people can live together in peace? I would argue that nothing is lost, except some confused notions about morality that we would do well to discard.

The temptation to think that we need some standard external to morality in order to make morality objective and to make moral obligations really binding is buttressed by the fear that the only alternative is a subjectivist morality—but recognizing that morality is based on human needs and interests, and not on God’s commands, doesn’t make one a subjectivist. As already discussed, when those who don’t think that morality is derived from God say that something is morally wrong, they don’t (typically) mean that this is just how they as individuals feel, which would be a true subjectivist position. One cannot argue with feelings. But most nonreligious people think we can argue about moral issues and that some people are mistaken about their conclusions on moral matters.

To have genuine disagreements about moral issues, we need accepted standards for distinguishing correct from incorrect moral judgments, and facts must influence our judgments. Morality as I have described it meets these conditions. All morally serious individuals accept the core moral norms I have identified, and it is these core norms that provide an intersubjective foundation for morality and for disagreements about more complex moral issues. For example, all morally serious individuals recognize that there is a strong presumption that killing is wrong, and our knowledge that we live among others who also accept this norm allows us to venture outside instead of barricading ourselves in our homes. There is no dispute about this norm. But there are discrete areas of disagreement regarding the applicability of this norm, for example, in the debate over physician-assisted dying. Such disputes on complex issues do not indicate that morality is subjective; to have a dispute—a genuine dispute, and not just dueling statements of personal preference—the parties to the dispute must have shared premises. In discussing and trying to resolve such moral disputes, we make reference to norms of the common morality (such as the obligation not to kill versus the obligation to show compassion and prevent suffering), interpret them in light of relevant facts, and try to determine how our proposed resolution would serve the underlying rationale of the applicable norms. Only the morally inarticulate invoke subjective “feelings.” (In my forthcoming book, The Necessity of Secularism: Why God Can’t Tell Us What To Do , I devote a chapter to illustrating how we can express disagreement on public policy matters without invoking God or just saying “that’s how I feel.”)

From the forgoing, we can also see that morality is not arbitrary. People can argue intelligently about morality and can also assert that an action is morally wrong—not just for them, but wrong period. They can condemn wrongdoers, pointing out how their actions are inconsistent with core norms (although most wrongdoers are already aware of their transgressions). Furthermore, if the offense is serious enough, they will impose severe punishment on the wrongdoer, possibly including removal from society. All that seems pretty objective, in any relevant sense of the term. Granted, it’s not objective in the same way that the statement that it is raining outside is objective, but that’s because, as we have already established, factual statements have a different function than moral judgments.

At this point, the believer might protest, “But there has to be something more than that. Morality is not just a human institution.” Well, what is this something more? Why is it not enough to tell the wrongdoer that everyone condemns him because what he or she did violated our accepted norms, which are essential to our ability to live together in peace? Do we have to add, “Oh, by the way, God condemns you too?” Exactly what difference would that make?

What some believers (and, again, some secular ethicists) appear to want is some further fact, something that will make them more comfortable in claiming that moral norms are authoritative and binding. Somehow it is not sufficient that a norm prohibiting the gratuitous affliction of violence reduces pain and suffering and allows us to live together in peace, and has, therefore, been adopted by all human societies. No; for the believer there has to be something else. A moral norm must be grounded in something other than its beneficial effects for humans and human communities. The statement that “it was wrong for Kim to hit Stephanie” must pick out some mystical property that constitutes “wrongness.” For the believer, this further fact is usually identified as a command from God, but as we have already established, God’s commands cannot be regarded as imposing moral obligations unless we already possess a sense of right and wrong independent of his commands.

Those who cling to the “further fact” view—that is, the view that there must be something outside of morality that provides the objective grounding for morality—are not unlike those naïve economists who insist that currency has no value unless it’s based on gold or some other precious metal. Hence, we had the gold standard, which for many years provided that a dollar could be exchanged for a specific quantity of gold. The gold standard reassured some that currency was based on something of “objective” value. However, the whole world has moved away from the gold standard with no ill effects. Why was there no panic? Why didn’t our economic systems collapse or become wildly unstable? Because currency doesn’t need anything outside of the economic system itself to provide it with value. Money represents the value found within our economic system, which, in turn, is based on our economic relationships.

Similarly, moral norms represent the value found in living together. There is no need to base our moral norms on something outside of our relationships. Moral norms are effective in fostering collaboration and cooperation and in improving our conditions, and there is no need to refer to a mystical entity, a gold bar, or God to conclude that we should encourage everyone to abide by common moral norms.

In conclusion, the claim that we need God to provide morality with objectivity does not withstand analysis. To begin with, God would not be able to provide objectivity, as the argument from Euthyphro demonstrates. Moreover, morality is neither objective nor subjective in the way that statements of fact are said to be objective or subjective; nor is that type of objectivity really our concern. Our legitimate concern is that we don’t want people feeling free “to do their own thing,” that is, we don’t want morality to be merely a reflection of someone’s personal desires. It’s not. To the extent that intersubjective validity is required for morality, it is provided by the fact that, in relevant respects, the circumstances under which humans live have remained roughly the same. We have vulnerabilities and needs similar to those of people who lived in ancient times and medieval times, and to those of people who live today in other parts of the world. The obligation to tell the truth will persist as long as humans need to rely on communications from each other. The obligation to assist those who are in need of food and water will persist as long as humans need hydration and nutrition to sustain themselves. The obligation not to maim someone will persist as long as humans cannot spontane ously heal wounds and regrow body parts. The obligation not to kill someone will persist as long as we lack the power of reanimation. In its essentials, the human condition has not changed much, and it is the circumstances under which we live that influence the content of our norms, not divine commands. Morality is a human institution serving human needs, and the norms of the common morality will persist as long as there are humans around.

Ronald A. Lindsay is the former president and CEO of the Center for Inquiry, recent interim general counsel for CFI, and editor of Free Inquiry magazine.

Your complimentary articles

You’ve read one of your four complimentary articles for this month.

You can read four articles free per month. To have complete access to the thousands of philosophy articles on this site, please

Question of the Month

Is morality objective, the following answers to this key philosophical question each win a random book..

It is clear that morality is a feature of humanity. However, if morality were objective then every member of our species would share the same moral values. But it is patent that we do not share the same moral values. For example, there’s clearly a lack of moral consensus with respect to our views on euthanasia, abortion, or our treatment towards non-human animals.

For any given moral situation various factors exist that must be taken into account. So, before we can judge whether an act is right or wrong we need to evaluate several things: the different personalities of the people involved – their emotions, intentions, intuitions – as well as the consequences of the act. These factors can relativize the morality of an action. For example, an uptight person may expect us to always tell the truth no matter what , but in a situation where someone is extremely sensitive it might be justified to tell a lie to spare their feelings.

Even great moral philosophers disagree about the nature of morality. Immanuel Kant’s influential duty-based theory of ethics maintains that truth-telling is universally binding on all rational beings. Thus, if a serial killer demands to know where you’re hiding your sibling, Kant’s absolute system would aver that you tell the truth because it is not possible to consistently universalize the act of telling any kind of lie. On the other hand, John Stuart Mill’s utilitarianism would insist that you lie to the serial killer because this would most likely maximize the greatest amount of happiness or pleasure by minimizing the unhappiness or pain for you and your sibling.

In a pristine world of crystallized moral ideals, perhaps morality could be objective and universally binding on all people. However, we live in a world of moral flux, impermanence, and flexibility. And it is because of this that morality is not nor could ever be objective.

Albert Filice, Scottsdale, AZ

Yes, morality is objective. (By ‘morality’ I mean that which we all recognise as right behaviour – that which we call ‘good’). Have you ever tried making up your own morality and applying it to your family and friends? If you have, you could well be reading this magazine whilst sitting in a prison cell or an asylum.

Certainly many people have attempted to invent their own morality and then impose it on others, for instance, Stalin, Hitler, Mao Zedong, and Pol Pot. And look what they created – a new Humanity, a new Society! Does anyone fancy living in their morally subjective worlds? Each led to inhumanity and madness. It is also a fact that none of the great moral teachers of our world ever invented a morality of their own. For example, Jesus didn’t teach new morality, but rather he elaborated on what already existed. ‘Love thy neighbour as thyself’ already was, and is, a universal and eternal principle.

It is of course the case that moral codes, although objective, are tailored to, or tailored by, the particular culture and age into which they are incarnated. For instance, it has never been the case (as far as we know) in any culture, at any time, that a man (even the chief) can take whichever woman he wants to be his wife. In Britain today she has to be over sixteen, and in other countries her age may be higher or lower. Also, someone has to give consent to the marriage; either the woman herself, or her family, or the elders of the tribe, or the chief’s other wives! Whatever the ‘subjective’ cultural differences, the same objective moral principle applies.

We can no more invent a subjective morality than we can invent a new primary colour. We can no more come up with a novel morality which is in no way connected to an objective morality than we can come up with a new way of breathing.

Karl Wray, Carlisle, Cumbria

Here I will treat ‘objectivity’ as the property of an idea or object that let’s it be evaluated in the same way independently of who the evaluator is. Evaluating morality in light of this, we face two components that pose a potential threat to moral objectivity: space and time. For instance, when the Conquistadors arrived in South America at the beginning of the Sixteenth Century, they were shocked at various rituals of human sacrifice practiced by the Incas. Those rituals were morally wrong to the Spanish, who had been brought up with the morals of another culture on a different continent. The vast majority of people in South America today will likely agree that human sacrifice is wrong, so we can see that accepted morality has strongly depended on time and place.

However, with the increasing interconnectedness among mankind through the internet and especially social media, I suppose that the spatial component will get lost some day. We may see this in vegetarianism and veganism. Although both diets existed in ancient times, there had never been a spread of those ideas as remarkable as in these times of hashtags, blogs and the international exchange of bits within milliseconds. Furthermore, although a high number of people are still being treated unethically, we also must acknowledge that we have come to a more or less internationally congruent understanding of a morally correct treatment of people.

How objective should we rate this development? On the one hand, we have never been closer to an objective (in terms of a universally acceptable) morality. On the other hand, we need to ask ourselves whether the temporal component may still pose a threat. If you asked Plato whether 2 plus 2 equals 4, you would certainly have received the same answer as you’ll receive today, whereas answers to questions of morality are highly dependant on the time in which they’re asked. Therefore, morality cannot be seen as objective, but perhaps rather as developing towards a set of globally shared morals.

Jeanette Lang, Heusweiler, Saarland, Germany

Morality is objective. That is, moral claims are true or false about aspects of human interaction that involve the ideas of rights and obligations. Further, the fundamental moral maxims apply universally, and reasonable people can agree on their truth.

There are really just two alternatives to moral objectivism: moral relativism, and all the rest. But all the rest lead to absurdity: if I truly believe that I cannot know right from wrong (moral skepticism), or that all moral claims are false (moral error theory), or that there is no right or wrong (moral nihilism and non-cognitivism), then I must conclude I don’t know what I should do. However, as a social animal I must interact with others. Thus, I find myself in the dilemma of having to act but not knowing how to act. Any theory that leads to this absurd state of mind must be rejected.

Moral relativism then is the only credible challenge to moral objectivism. The case for moral relativism is that different societies have different moral judgments. However, most more complex moral judgments are derived from a few basic ones, with components that vary with the material conditions of different societies. But the fact that different societies make different moral judgments does not prove relativism. To prove their position, relativists must dig down to the fundamental moral judgments in every society, and then show that these judgments are not shared by societies. This they have not done.

This is the indirect case for moral objectivism. The direct case includes the following ideas: (1) All societies share certain values necessary for any society to function (for example, no lying, promise-keeping, nurturing children) (2) Objectivism appeals to reason over feeling and offers a better chance for humanity to solve its many problems; (3) The purpose of ethics is to provide guidance, and humanity needs guidance for world affairs and not just within any particular society, and (4) Nations and societies must cooperate, and this requires agreement on core values.

Ethics first; meta-ethics [that is, thinking about the foundations of ethics] second. Meta-ethics should not be an obstacle to the pragmatic project of seeking guidance for human social interaction grounded on something we can all agree on, which I believe is a common human nature.

John Talley, Rutherfordton, NC

I should like to reformulate the question as follows: Can we demonstrate that any moral claim is objectively true? My reply is ‘Yes and No’.

It seems clear that to answer this rephrased question, we must have a notional idea of what the term ‘objective’ means. Not surprisingly, its meaning is highly contested.

The economist and philosopher Amartya Sen has described two central features of objectivity: observation dependence and impersonality . In effect, Sen meant here that objectivity requires both careful observation and inter-observer corroboration. Thus, on Sen’s view, if I say, “I truly and deeply believe that your house is on fire” without having observed your house, I am making a subjective claim. In contrast, if two people simultaneously witness smoke coming from your house and say, “We believe your house is on fire,” Sen would argue that they are making a type of objective statement.

But Sen’s use of ‘objective’ doesn’t seem to work well for moral claims. After all, it is much easier to get two people to agree on what smoke looks like than on what an immoral or evil act looks like. Smith and Jones might agree that someone just stole a loaf of bread from the grocer, but disagree as to the ‘wrongness’ of the act. For example, suppose the thief was penniless, starving and had no other recourse. It appears there is no objective means of adjudicating the matter.

However, philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre’s ‘virtue ethics’ suggests that a degree of moral objectivity is possible – within the confines of certain communities and their shared values. For MacIntyre, there are objective standards of virtue found within a tradition, such as the ethical traditions of ancient Athens. For MacIntyre, in a given society, the moral code is based on what is agreed to be the shared end of the society and the best way to achieve it, which also gives each member their proper role in the society and their own proper tasks. Thus, in a society one of whose shared aims is the protection of private property, it would be objectively wrong to steal a loaf of bread, all other things being equal. So, morality itself may not be objective, but for people who share a worldview expressed by the community, morality has context and a shared meaning.

Ronald W. Pies M.D., Lexington, MA

You are ugly and grossly overweight. Consider how you feel after reading that. Keep that feeling to hand for the moment. That sentence is an insult, and I shouldn’t have written it, due to the feeling it has most certainly caused in you, and would cause in me had such an insult been aimed at me, regardless of its truth or falsity. A wrong has been committed, a moral law has been broken. It’s not a law contained in a spelt-out legal system; but it doesn’t have to be spelt-out to be real. Instead, the hurt feelings in the insulted person make the offence fairly objective. By ‘objective’ here, I mean existing universally, or virtually universally: anyone and everyone would feel insulted, assuming they understood the words. By those words I have created something that’s out there: it’s objective. You can’t see it, but you feel its sting. It registers.

You will of course have realised that I didn’t mean what I wrote; but for that initial moment the feeling was real. It is in those kinds of moments where morality is shown to be objective, where everyone ‘sees’ the offence: when the ghost in the machine (if I may borrow that phrase) becomes solid. This kind of ‘real’ is clearly not the same real as, say, the keyboard with which I wrote the sentence, but there are many types of real: real love, real bananas, real quantum particles. While the feeling isn’t empirical evidence as are results taken with a ruler or beeps on a Geiger Counter, it is real evidence of a different kind. I can’t proclaim an area safe from radiation with a ruler, it’s the wrong detector. I need the correct tool, a Geiger Counter, to do that. We, human beings, are the morality detectors. We all feel the sting when something wrong has been created, say an insult has been slung – and therein lies the objectivity.

Kristine Kerr (who reckons you are beautiful and fit), Gourock, Renfrewshire

One reason for denying that morality is objective is the claim that science will provide an exhaustive description of objective reality which leaves no room for objectivemoral facts, and so morality must be either subjective or a matter of convention. However, it could be argued that mathematics faces the same problem here as morality. Mathematical objects such as numbers do not appear in the list of items in the natural world that science can detect. They cannot be observed as part of the physical universe – even though they are a prerequisite for the success of science. But we should notice that this does not prevent us from regarding mathematical truths as objective. In fact mathematics, as the Greeks recognised, is the paradigm of objective truth. Thus the claim that objective truths must be scientific truths seems simply a metaphysical prejudice.

If we allow for the possibility of objective moral truths, how might such truths be identified? Science boasts replicable empirical research that has identified entities which seem uncontroversially objective, such as atoms. Mathematics uses logic to prove mathematical theorems. In contrast, there is no accepted procedure that enables us to settle moral debate, which often seems interminable. There is no experiment, for example, which can determine whether abortion is morally acceptable. Nevertheless, the controversial nature of morality is itself a reason to think that there are objective truths at stake. We do not seriously debate matters of taste (e.g. whether coffee or tea is the better drink), because we do not believe there is an objective answer.

Moreover, the distinction should be made between procedures for identifying objective reality, and objective reality itself. Atoms possessed objectivity before the scientific methods were established that confirmed their existence. So a lack of scientific method does not necessarily mean a lack of objectivity. And, although much ethical debate seems interminable, progress has been made here. For example, we have surely established that slavery is objectively wrong, although formerly this was a controversial issue.

Moral debate does not deliver clear-cut answers in the way science appears to, but this does not mean that it cannot deliver objective conclusions at all. The process is just more difficult. Because of the success of science in identifying objective truths, beliefs that are established by non-scientific means are assumed to lack objectivity. But is this justified? Surely ‘It is wrong to torture babies’ is as objectively true as anything in science.

Martin Butler, Lancaster

The mind is caused by the brain. But the brain doesn’t have a ‘nodule of morality’ or even a ‘deciding zone’ any more than it has a ‘chocolate-liking tubercle’. Rather, decision-making, which includes moral decisions, is performed by the whole neural net. This process is entirely objective, not just as a phenomenon, but the mechanics of the brain’s decision-making activity are thoroughly physical, visible, solid, and testable.

Our neural net makes our decisions by a fairly simple process of one-on-one comparison-and-match. This means that the results of the process look like the simple comparisons they are, and moral decisions seem to be comparative.

But then again, there does seem to be a definitive, objective, fixed and unshakeable system of knowing-what’s-right behind it all. Not just feelings but experience tells us so. And indeed, there is such a definitive system – it is the fixed and objective process by which the moral comparison is done.

So, morality is comparative, and is determined by an objective system. Which is not only an explanation of how moral judgement works, but an explanation of why the apparent conflict between objective and comparative accounts of morality occurs. Tarraaaa!

Glyn Hughes, Squashed Philosophers (sqapo.com)

Morality has both subjective and objective components. The objective component is provided by the laws of Game Theory. The subjective element is the strategy selected by a player attempting to maximise their personal reward.

Game theory describes the competitive or collaborative strategies that a rational agent can use to maximise their benefit in any situation. (In this context, a rational agent is someone capable of thinking about then acting in their own best interest.) Often, cooperation provides the optimum outcome for all interacting parties, but at any time an agent might break the contract in an attempt to increase their own rewards. Such an action might have short term benefits, but it has been shown that in a series of interaction games, such a cheat will lose out because the others will soon refuse further cooperation. There are, therefore, substantial individual and group advantages to keeping such a contract. This ‘reciprocal altruism’, where the group rewards collaboration and punishes the cheat, is modelled by the ‘tit-for-tat’ strategy in Game Theory.

I would argue with the Mathematical Platonists that abstract mathematical ideas are mind-independent entities. Like any other object, they can be discovered and verified by anyone with the right equipment – in this case a skill in mathematics. Therefore, the outcome of our moral behaviour, subject to the laws of relationships determined by the mathematical objects of Game Theory, in this sense are objective. However, the strategies are subjectively chosen by agents acting in what they perceive to be their own best interest. Their choices may or may not coincide with supporting the social order.

Human civilization is highly dependent on the operation of Game Theory’s reciprocal altruism. A society’s moral codes are attempts to ensure that individuals choose the collaborative strategy over many ‘plays’, that is, social interactions. Although the moral rules encapsulated by the Golden Rule (‘Do unto others…’) and Law of Retaliation (‘an eye for an eye’) are simple, in practice they can become very complex. Human agents are playing many parallel games in an ever-changing social and physical environment, with no guarantee of group success. To retain social cohesion, the moral code may incorporate many complex taboos or ritualistic actions, lack of compliance with which can be used as an explanation of the group’s failures. An agent, however, is always free to challenge the code by choosing the antisocial strategy. In such cases the agent will find themselves in peril of retribution in the form of tribal or civil law.

Dr Steve Brewer, Carbis Bay, St Ives

Two types of morality co-exist virtually everywhere and at all times, yet they are, for the most part, poles apart. They are morality in theory and morality in practice , and they align with objective morality and subjective morality respectively. I will demonstrate what I mean by example, but first let me elaborate on morality as it is practiced.

For most people, morality stems from their surrounding cultural norms. That is, many people rely on their conscience to point their moral compass; but one’s conscience is a social construct largely determined by one’s upbringing. For example, in some societies, one can be made to feel guilty about the most natural sexual impulses. Guilt and sex have been associated over generations, but it is usually lop-sided: women are often forced to carry the greater burden of guilt, and homosexuals can be forced to feel criminal. Both these examples illustrate how cultural norms can determine the morality one accepts.

In some societies there are cultural clashes – usually generational – where the same moral issue can inflame opposing attitudes. In India in December 2012, a young woman, Jyoti Singh, was raped and murdered on a bus after she went to a movie with her boyfriend. A documentary by British filmmaker Leslee Udwin explored the cultural schism in India over this issue. Some (including the lawyers representing the gang who committed the crime) believed that the girl was responsible for her own fate, whereas others campaigned to have the rape laws strengthened. This demonstrates starkly how someone’s specific cultural influences can set moral values that become normative and then intransigent.

In many cultures it is taught that God or the gods determine moral values, yet these are often the most prescriptive, oppressive, and misogynistic examples of enforced cultural mores. People who hold to this perspective often claim that theirs is the only true objective morality, but unfortunately it seems that when one evokes God [or indeed, any other absolute, Ed] to rationalise one’s morality, anything, including the most savage actions, can thereby be ostensively justified.

On the other hand, morality in theory is very simple: it is to treat everyone the same and give everyone the same rights, be they men, women, homosexuals, people of different faith, or with a different skin colour. However, one only has to look at the treatment of refugees to realise how even the most liberal societies struggle with this precept.

Paul Mealing, Melbourne

This question initially seems simple, as there appear to be many things that most people would automatically believe to be intrinsically morally wrong, in all times and place, such as murder, lying, and theft. But after reflection, many would agree there are also cases where these things may be acceptable. For example, stealing medicine to save the life of a critically ill child, or lying to someone over the whereabouts of your friend whom they express an intention to kill. However, people would not necessarily give the same reasons why these are exceptions to the rule. Some may argue there is greater moral responsibility to a friend than to a stranger, so, in this circumstance, lying in their defence is acceptable; but others may argue a hierarchy of moral actions: so although lying, or stealing, is ethically wrong, not acting to prevent a murder, or to save the life of a child, is a far greater wrong. Others still may stress the importance of social mores in ethical situations.

In conclusion, despite a widespread belief there are things that are inherently morally correct apart from in exceptional circumstances, there is lack of consensus on what these exemptions are, or when and why they are acceptable. This is what makes debate over whether there is truly an objective morality uncertain, and makes moral philosophy the challenging preoccupation it is.

Jonathan Tipton, Preston, Lancashire

The common belief is that there are two kinds of knowledge: subjective and objective. The latter is held to be more certain than the former, and is usually contrasted with it. However, the distinction is ultimately untenable. Objective knowledge is actually derived from subjective knowledge. This is because of the absolute privacy of conscious experience, which ensures that there can be no composite or collective view of reality. So every so-called ‘objective fact’ is derivative – that is, it is derived from the private observations of individuals insofar as they seem to agree with each other.

The process of arriving at a moral truth is in principle exactly the same as that: by inquiry and agreement among autonomous individuals. The status of a value would thus be no less (and no more) ‘objective’ than that of a ‘fact’. (Unfortunately, in traditional societies, it is the authority of the past which is usually deferred to.)

Moreover, no ‘objective facts’ can be arrived at unless certain values are observed. These values are arrived at in the same way as we arrive at facts: namely by mutual agreement. They include (1) Respect for reason and truth, (2) Recognition of knowledge, (3) Respect for each other’s freedom and autonomy, (4) Respect for each other’s conscious experience, and (5) Frankness, even where this involves admitting one’s own mistakes. It will be seen that the Golden Rule is implicit here. We require therefore moral values when seeking out facts – values are at the root of so-called ‘facts’. And we may assert that both facts and values are derived from individual human experience, and so are as ‘objective’, or not, as each other.

Graham Dunstan Martin, Edinburgh

Next Question of the Month

In honour both of Albert Camus and William Shakespeare, the next question is: To Be or Not To Be – What Is The Answer? Please both give and justify your sagacity in less than 400 words. The prize is a semi-random book from our book mountain. Subject lines should be marked ‘Question of the Month’, and must be received by 17th October 2016. If you want a chance of getting a book, please include your physical address. Submission is permission to reproduce your answer physically and electronically. Thanks.

This site uses cookies to recognize users and allow us to analyse site usage. By continuing to browse the site with cookies enabled in your browser, you consent to the use of cookies in accordance with our privacy policy . X

COMMENTS

Is Morality Subjective?
By treating all moral judgements as statements about subjective attitudes and preferences, subjectivists struggle to make the distinction each of us recognizes naturally; the distinction between moral judgements and non- moral preferences. They fail to distinguish moral imperatives from prudential considerations, the demands of social
Subjectivity of Morality: Analysis of Arguments
Subjective morality also raises challenges for moral progress in societies. If morals are simply matters of taste, it is unclear how societies can improve morally over time. Slavery, for instance, would not have been 'wrong' in subjectivist terms 500 years ago if the prevailing individual preferences accepted it.
ethics
Subjective morality is the idea that there is no single right and wrong morality, but the idea that morality can vary based on factors like genetics, your environment, or which society you live in. Researchers found that while parents can help encourage their children to develop into responsible, conscientious adults, there is an underlying ...
Is Morality Subjective?
Since publishing my short essay, Is Morality Subjective? [Allan 2015a], I received a lot of interest and engaged in a number of conversations about the ideas I presented. Unsurprisingly, my argument for objectivity in ethics garnered a pleasing level of support while at the same time attracting a level of criticism.
Ethics And Moral Subjectivism
This essay about the complexities of ethics and moral subjectivism. It explores the notion that moral judgments are subjective, varying between individuals, cultures, and societies. While moral subjectivism promotes cultural understanding and empathy, it also raises concerns about moral relativism and the absence of objective moral truths.
Is Morality Subjective? A Reply to Critics
In my original essay, I argued that for a reason for action to be a moral reason, that reason must appeal to interests beyond that of the agent and the agent's preferred social group. It is in this sense of 'impartiality', I argued that morality is objective. ... Leslie Allan Is Morality Subjective? - A Reply to Critics ...
Philosophy Essay
This essay will explore arguments on both sides of the debate, examine the implications of each viewpoint, and attempt to offer a nuanced perspective on this enduring philosophical question. The Case for Subjective Morality Subjective morality posits that moral judgments and values are based on personal feelings, tastes, or opinions.
How Morality Has the Objectivity that Matters—Without God
Morality is neither objective nor subjective—it's a practical enterprise enmeshed in human relationships. That gives it objectivity enough. ... The thesis of this essay is that morality is not objective in the same way that statements of empirically verifiable facts are objective, yet morality is objective in the ways that matter: moral ...
Is Morality Objective?
Two types of morality co-exist virtually everywhere and at all times, yet they are, for the most part, poles apart. They are morality in theory and morality in practice, and they align with objective morality and subjective morality respectively. I will demonstrate what I mean by example, but first let me elaborate on morality as it is practiced.
Is morality objective or subjective (docx)
In contrast, subjective morality contends that moral judgments are contingent upon individual perspectives, cultural norms, and societal values. This essay aims to delve into the nuanced dimensions of the objective-subjective dichotomy within morality, exploring various categories that contribute to this multifaceted discourse. I.