Ethics in a Democracy
Albert A. Anderson*
Podcast 1: What is Democracy?
We are living in a time of dramatic political transformation in several parts of the globe, and the term most frequently used to justify the changes taking place is “democracy.” However, we seldom hear anyone seriously ask what democracy really is. People are killing and dying for this idea, and everyone pretends to understand, but if a definition is requested, the answer is usually framed only in terms of what it is not: Democracy must replace tyranny, dictatorship, or totalitarianism. There is a lot of discussion of election procedures; we hear historical references to constitutions; and many complain of the lack of rights and freedoms in a particular nation or state — however, if we try to probe beyond the surface and ask about the ethical foundations of democracy or any other form of governing, we are likely to be disappointed.
In this series of podcasts I will explore the meaning of democracy from the standpoint of philosophical ethics. My reason for taking on that task is simple: unless we understand the ethical principles that are essential for democracy, we cannot hope to recognize democracy, or the lack of it, in the actual world. Why is a philosophical analysis necessary? The reason is that any other form of examination inevitably leads to relativism and subjectivism. Only philosophy is able to justify the kind of universal thinking that applies to all people, rather than to a particular person, family, tribe, party, congregation, organization, state, or nation.
Those who hold political power, often use the term “democracy” to describe their form of government because it is an attractive label designed to convince “the people” that they matter and are being served by their leaders. The “Democratic People’s Republic of Korea” (North Korea) and the “Deutsche Demokratische Republik” (the former East Germany) were labeled to give the illusion of democracy. But who can justify the claim that such governments manifest the essential principles of democracy? What are those essential principles? Until we have a better idea of how to answer that question, it is hard to say anything meaningful on this subject.
The philosopher Hannah Arendt went even farther. She said that because the term democracy has been so abused, we should “dismiss as a charlatan” anyone who uses it without clarifying what it means. In his final book called Dismantling the Empire, published shortly before his death in 2010, the Asian historian Chalmers Johnson responded to Hannah Arendt’s challenge by offering three necessary conditions for democracy. Here is his list:
1. Public opinion matters. In other words, the members of any democratic society or organization must be free to say or write what they think, and other members in that organization must respect that right.
2. There must be some balance of power or separation of powers so it is impossible for an individual leader to become a dictator.
3. There must be an agreed-upon procedure for getting rid of unsatisfactory leaders. Johnson cites periodic elections, parliamentary votes of no confidence, term limits, and impeachment.
Johnson did not pretend that this short list is sufficient, but even these three necessary conditions would, for example, rule out as democratic the People’s Republic of China, The DDR, Fidel Castro’s Cuba, Hosni Mubarak’s Egypt, and Muammar Gaddafi’s Libya.
Johnson, like most who write about democracy, is primarily and properly concerned with its implementation. However, democracy, like other forms of governing, can take many forms and still be considered to be authentic. My concern in this series of podcasts is different. My analysis is philosophical, exploring the ethical principles that are essential to democracy. The parliamentary form of democracy that originated in Britain and has been adopted in many parts of the world is different from the presidential form that exists in the United States. What they have in common is an ethical foundation that is essential, whatever variations are manifested in different places and at different times. The ethical vision I have in mind is universal, not local. It is democratic because it takes the people, all people, as its ultimate concern. Although Immanuel Kant is not alone in placing autonomy as the foundation of ethics, in a later podcast I will follow his analysis to show that only an ethical position based on autonomy is worthy of our respect. The reason is that no other ethical claim applies universally rather than appealing to some special interest.
The contrast between universal and particular claims is an ancient one. The character Thrasymachus in Plato’s dialogue The Republic denies universality and advocates special interests in making claims about what is valuable. He and Socrates are discussing the nature of justice, one of the essential concepts linked to political association. Thrasymachus offers a simple definition:
Thrasymachus: Then listen. I say that justice is nothing else than the interest of the stronger. Now, why don’t you praise me? But of course you won’t.
Socrates: First I must understand you. Your answer is not yet clear. Justice, you say, is the interest of the stronger. Thrasymachus, what does that mean? Surely you don’t mean that because the wrestler Polydamas is stronger than we are, and finds the eating of beef conducive to his bodily strength, that eating lots of beef is therefore equally good and just for us.
Thrasymachus: That’s a dirty trick, Socrates; you take my words in the sense that is most damaging to my position.
Socrates: Then tell us your meaning more clearly.
Thrasymachus: OK. Have you never heard that forms of government differ? There are tyrannies, there are democracies, and there are aristocracies.
Socrates: Yes, I have heard that.
Thrasymachus: And the government is the ruling power in each state?
Socrates: I’ve heard that too. [339]
Thrasymachus: And different forms of government make laws in different ways. Some operate democratically; in others the aristocrats rule; and in still others a single tyrant makes the laws. It all depends on their various interests. They all claim that what is advantageous to themselves is justice for the people they rule. Anyone who violates this principle they punish as a lawbreaker, and they brand that person as unjust. That is what I mean, sir, when I say that there exists in all states the same principle of justice, and that is the interest of the established government. In all cases the government has the power, so the only reasonable conclusion is that everywhere there is but one principle of justice: the interest of the stronger.
Socrates: Now I understand you. Next we must determine whether or not you are right.
Plato’s presentation of the issues related not only to justice but also to other ethical values and to various forms of government is long and complicated. However, it is already clear by the end of Book I of The Republic that the interests of any government that is only based on power will not survive under philosophical analysis because it cannot be rationally justified.
Democracy is not only a concern for republics; it can also be manifested in non-governmental organizations, such as the faculty assembly of a college or university, a political party, a professional society, or a labor union. And even if we determine that a particular organization meets the basic definition of democracy at a particular time, it may be that it does not do so at another time. For example, a nation founded on democratic principles may change and violate one or more of the necessary conditions listed by Chalmers Johnson. In order to think clearly about what really matters as we consider the values related to the democratic process, I propose moving to a more abstract level of reflection—the field of ethics. The term ethics has many meanings, so in this series of podcasts I will focus on philosophical ethics, an approach that is suitable for free people. What is the difference between philosophical ethics and other kinds of ethics? To answer that question we must first examine the meaning of philosophy.
The ancient Greek word philosophia has two roots — philia (love) and sophia (wisdom) — literally, the love of wisdom. It is no accident that this way of thinking about philosophy emerged in the same time and place that produced the world’s first democracy. In Athens, during the 5th century B.C. both the quest for knowledge and the distribution of political power changed from being the sole possession of a few wise men or of a single king to being shared among a much larger portion of the population. The Athenian philosophers Socrates and Plato helped analyze and clarify the relationship between the love of wisdom and political order, paving the way for the modern thinkers who laid the foundations of democracy in Europe and America in the 17th and 18th centuries. The way of knowing discovered by the characters in Plato’s dialogue The Sophist is called dialectic, the form of inquiry that is appropriate for free people.
The ancient Athenians were not yet a free people. They owned slaves and excluded women from most positions of political and economic power. But what distinguished them from every previous society was that at least some of the people who were being ruled were included in the ruling process. Once that principle was established, the door was open to the possibility that all citizens might be included. Even today we have not fully achieved that goal. In spite of the bold declarations about equality made in the 18th century, it was not until the 19th century that white males in United States shared power with non-whites; and only in the 20th century did women gain the right to vote. In the 21st century political and economic power still tend to lie in the hands of a few rulers, of the military, and of the executives in giant business corporations. Oligarchy (rule by a few), timocracy (rule by the brave), plutocracy (rule by the rich), and theocracy (rule by religious authority) are forms of government that differ fundamentally from democracy. The principle demanding political and moral equality for all people remains as the “north star” that guides the ship of state in any genuine democracy.
The Athenians of Plato’s day were preceded and surrounded by societies in which a single religious or political authority served as the source of knowledge and power. But both democracy and rational inquiry evolved slowly from earlier developments in distant lands. I will begin this quest for democratic ethics not in Europe but in China more than a century before the birth of Socrates. The facts related to the life and works of Lao Zi, who lived from 580 to 500 B.C., are uncertain and controversial. Scholars do not agree about how much of what we now call the Dao De Jing should be attributed to a book written by a single person and how much is derived from an oral tradition that developed as early as the 7th century B.C. No matter who is responsible for its 81 chapters, both the form and the content of the Dao De Jing provide a good starting-point.
There was something undifferentiated and all-embracing,
Which existed before Heaven and Earth.
Soundless and formless, it depends on nothing external
And stays inexhaustible.
It operates with a circular motion
And remains inextinguishable.
It may be considered the mother of all things under Heaven.
I do not know its name and hence call it the Dao …
If forced to give it another name, I shall call it the Great.
The Great is boundless and thus functioning everywhere.
It is functioning everywhere and thus becoming far-reaching.
It is becoming far-reaching and thus returning to the original point.
Therefore the Dao is great.
Heaven is great.
Earth is great.
And Man is also great.
There are four great things in the universe.
And Man is one of them.
Man follows the way of Earth.
Earth follows the way of Heaven.
Heaven follows the way of the Dao.
And the Dao follows the way of spontaneity.
(Chapter 25)
The format of the Dao De Jing reminds us of the oral and artistic roots of human language. It is poetic, symbolic, and metaphorical. Thus it contrasts sharply with the rules, regulations, and edicts that dominate authoritarian and totalitarian approaches to knowledge, ethics, and politics. The major reason I begin with the Dao De Jing is that it prepares the way for the philosophical concept of dialectic. Professor Keping Wang of the Beijing International Studies University translated the English version of the Dao De Jing I use in this podcast. In his scholarly introduction to this work, he says: “Dialectics is one of the great contributions made by Lao Zi that marks a big leap forwarding the maturity of Chinese thought.” Although many philosophers ranging from Plato to Marx have employed the term dialectic, the core meaning of dialectic entails the complexity of nature and the dynamic character of wisdom. The word Dao itself manifests that meaning. Dao incorporates and distinguishes the unity and difference of opposites. In other words, it includes both Yin and Yang.
The Dao produces the One.
The One turns into the Two.
The Two give rise to the Three.
The Three bring forth the myriad of things.
The myriad of things contain Yin and Yang as vital forces,
Which achieve harmony through their interactions.
(Chapter 42)
Did the ancient Greeks learn about the dialectical way of thinking and being from the early Chinese? We have no direct evidence that they did, but there is a remarkable similarity between ideas found in the Dao De Jing and the philosophy of early Greek thinkers such as Parmenides, Anaximander, Anaxagoras, and Heraclitus. Of special importance is the close relation in both traditions between fundamental ideas of nature (including human nature) and basic moral and political values such as justice, goodness, and equality.
In direct opposition to cultures that consider truth to be already established and possessed by some divine being, a priestly class, or political rulers, both the dialectical and the democratic process consider truth to be a goal that we have not yet reached. This does not mean there is no truth or that it lacks power and influence over human life. The power of truth in dialectical philosophy comes from the lure of seeking or attracting rather than from the force of orders or commands issued from on high. The wisdom manifested in the Dao De Jing resembles the wisdom of Socrates:
It is all the best to know that you don’t know.
It is an aberration to pretend to know when you don’t know.
The sage is free from the aberration
Because he recognizes it as such.
He can be free from this aberration
Only when he recognizes it as such.
(Chapter 71)
The philosophical content of the Dao De Jing tends to be implicit rather than explicit. As I will explain in a later podcast, that is also true of Plato’s dialogues. Neither Lao Zi nor Plato wrote philosophical essays. The listener or reader is required to interpret, analyze, and evaluate the ideas and arguments presented in those texts. This means that they become part of the dialectical process rather than being mere spectators. That way of thinking about philosophy is essential to distinguishing between philosophical ethics and other forms of ethics. Here is my definition of philosophical ethics: “Philosophical ethics is the rational analysis and justification of fundamental moral concepts, principles, decisions, and actions.” What is a rational analysis? As with so many philosophical questions, different schools of thought present different and even conflicting answers. If we define philosophical ethics in terms of “moral concepts, principles, decisions, and actions,” the meaning of “moral” must itself be subject to analysis and justification. Several other terms that cluster around the idea of morality — justice and injustice, good and bad, right and wrong — also require rational analysis and justification.
What one person or one group of people considers to be moral differs radically from what many other people believe to be moral. Is it moral to torture someone suspected of terrorism to obtain information about an impending attack on your homeland? Is it moral to sacrifice the life of a fetus in order to save the life of its mother? Is it moral to take your own life if you are suffering great pain from an incurable disease? It is easy to find contradictory answers to these and a host of other such questions among people from different nations, religious traditions, political parties, and cultures. Historians, sociologists and anthropologists, and proponents of various traditions provide an overwhelming body of evidence concerning such differences. The task of justifying any single answer is a daunting one. Philosophy seeks a way to uncover what is common to all through rational analysis. If such universality is possible, we must seek it in the realm of philosophical ethics rather than by examining what particular individuals or specific groups actually choose to do. What is common becomes clear only after rational analysis and justification takes place. It is a goal rather than a starting-point. We begin not with the truth or with a prescription but with puzzles, symbols, and poetic language that needs explication and reflection. That is the way of Plato and of Lao Zi.
He who assists the ruler with the Dao
Never seeks to dominate the world with military force.
The use of force is intrinsically dangerous:
Wherever armies are stationed,
Briers and thorns grow wild.
As soon as great wars are over,
Years of famine are sure to afflict the land.
Therefore an adept commander (of a defensive force) will
Stop when he has achieved his aim.
He does not use force to dominate the world.
He achieves his aim but does not become arrogant.
He achieves his aim but does not boast about it.
He achieves his aim only because he has no other choice.
This is called achieving the aim without using force to dominate.
The strong and powerful rob and harm the old and weak.
This is called contrary to the Dao.
Whatever is contrary to the Dao will soon perish.
(Chapter 30)
I have organized this series of podcasts around concepts and principles that have been treated by some of the great philosophers. It is impossible to study all ethical positions, or even all of the major options, within this format. Instead, I will focus on philosophical positions that seem viable for all people. Moral questions are concerned not only with theory but also with practice, so I will also consider some declarations of freedom and human dignity that aim to manifest what is common to all people. In other words, I will seek a way of thinking about democracy that is universal, not limited to a specific time or place. To do that I will focus on the ethical principles that ground philosophy. The role of philosophy is not to manifest those principles but to identify, analyze, and explain them. Living according to those principles is the responsibility of everyone, and that means everyone must think as deeply as possible about those principles.
The concepts and principles I will consider apply to the decisions and actions we confront in our personal life, to what we will hear or see in tonight’s news broadcast, to what we will read in the newspaper tomorrow, and to what we find on the internet next time we log on. My ultimate goal is to foster a way of thinking about personal and public issues that will enhance both the understanding and practice of ethics in a democracy.
In my next podcast I will consider one of the most persistent and daunting issues related to ethics: What is the relationship between ethics and religion?
*Copyright 2011, Agora Publications. All rights reserved.
Albert A. Anderson*
Podcast 1: What is Democracy?
We are living in a time of dramatic political transformation in several parts of the globe, and the term most frequently used to justify the changes taking place is “democracy.” However, we seldom hear anyone seriously ask what democracy really is. People are killing and dying for this idea, and everyone pretends to understand, but if a definition is requested, the answer is usually framed only in terms of what it is not: Democracy must replace tyranny, dictatorship, or totalitarianism. There is a lot of discussion of election procedures; we hear historical references to constitutions; and many complain of the lack of rights and freedoms in a particular nation or state — however, if we try to probe beyond the surface and ask about the ethical foundations of democracy or any other form of governing, we are likely to be disappointed.
In this series of podcasts I will explore the meaning of democracy from the standpoint of philosophical ethics. My reason for taking on that task is simple: unless we understand the ethical principles that are essential for democracy, we cannot hope to recognize democracy, or the lack of it, in the actual world. Why is a philosophical analysis necessary? The reason is that any other form of examination inevitably leads to relativism and subjectivism. Only philosophy is able to justify the kind of universal thinking that applies to all people, rather than to a particular person, family, tribe, party, congregation, organization, state, or nation.
Those who hold political power, often use the term “democracy” to describe their form of government because it is an attractive label designed to convince “the people” that they matter and are being served by their leaders. The “Democratic People’s Republic of Korea” (North Korea) and the “Deutsche Demokratische Republik” (the former East Germany) were labeled to give the illusion of democracy. But who can justify the claim that such governments manifest the essential principles of democracy? What are those essential principles? Until we have a better idea of how to answer that question, it is hard to say anything meaningful on this subject.
The philosopher Hannah Arendt went even farther. She said that because the term democracy has been so abused, we should “dismiss as a charlatan” anyone who uses it without clarifying what it means. In his final book called Dismantling the Empire, published shortly before his death in 2010, the Asian historian Chalmers Johnson responded to Hannah Arendt’s challenge by offering three necessary conditions for democracy. Here is his list:
1. Public opinion matters. In other words, the members of any democratic society or organization must be free to say or write what they think, and other members in that organization must respect that right.
2. There must be some balance of power or separation of powers so it is impossible for an individual leader to become a dictator.
3. There must be an agreed-upon procedure for getting rid of unsatisfactory leaders. Johnson cites periodic elections, parliamentary votes of no confidence, term limits, and impeachment.
Johnson did not pretend that this short list is sufficient, but even these three necessary conditions would, for example, rule out as democratic the People’s Republic of China, The DDR, Fidel Castro’s Cuba, Hosni Mubarak’s Egypt, and Muammar Gaddafi’s Libya.
Johnson, like most who write about democracy, is primarily and properly concerned with its implementation. However, democracy, like other forms of governing, can take many forms and still be considered to be authentic. My concern in this series of podcasts is different. My analysis is philosophical, exploring the ethical principles that are essential to democracy. The parliamentary form of democracy that originated in Britain and has been adopted in many parts of the world is different from the presidential form that exists in the United States. What they have in common is an ethical foundation that is essential, whatever variations are manifested in different places and at different times. The ethical vision I have in mind is universal, not local. It is democratic because it takes the people, all people, as its ultimate concern. Although Immanuel Kant is not alone in placing autonomy as the foundation of ethics, in a later podcast I will follow his analysis to show that only an ethical position based on autonomy is worthy of our respect. The reason is that no other ethical claim applies universally rather than appealing to some special interest.
The contrast between universal and particular claims is an ancient one. The character Thrasymachus in Plato’s dialogue The Republic denies universality and advocates special interests in making claims about what is valuable. He and Socrates are discussing the nature of justice, one of the essential concepts linked to political association. Thrasymachus offers a simple definition:
Thrasymachus: Then listen. I say that justice is nothing else than the interest of the stronger. Now, why don’t you praise me? But of course you won’t.
Socrates: First I must understand you. Your answer is not yet clear. Justice, you say, is the interest of the stronger. Thrasymachus, what does that mean? Surely you don’t mean that because the wrestler Polydamas is stronger than we are, and finds the eating of beef conducive to his bodily strength, that eating lots of beef is therefore equally good and just for us.
Thrasymachus: That’s a dirty trick, Socrates; you take my words in the sense that is most damaging to my position.
Socrates: Then tell us your meaning more clearly.
Thrasymachus: OK. Have you never heard that forms of government differ? There are tyrannies, there are democracies, and there are aristocracies.
Socrates: Yes, I have heard that.
Thrasymachus: And the government is the ruling power in each state?
Socrates: I’ve heard that too. [339]
Thrasymachus: And different forms of government make laws in different ways. Some operate democratically; in others the aristocrats rule; and in still others a single tyrant makes the laws. It all depends on their various interests. They all claim that what is advantageous to themselves is justice for the people they rule. Anyone who violates this principle they punish as a lawbreaker, and they brand that person as unjust. That is what I mean, sir, when I say that there exists in all states the same principle of justice, and that is the interest of the established government. In all cases the government has the power, so the only reasonable conclusion is that everywhere there is but one principle of justice: the interest of the stronger.
Socrates: Now I understand you. Next we must determine whether or not you are right.
Plato’s presentation of the issues related not only to justice but also to other ethical values and to various forms of government is long and complicated. However, it is already clear by the end of Book I of The Republic that the interests of any government that is only based on power will not survive under philosophical analysis because it cannot be rationally justified.
Democracy is not only a concern for republics; it can also be manifested in non-governmental organizations, such as the faculty assembly of a college or university, a political party, a professional society, or a labor union. And even if we determine that a particular organization meets the basic definition of democracy at a particular time, it may be that it does not do so at another time. For example, a nation founded on democratic principles may change and violate one or more of the necessary conditions listed by Chalmers Johnson. In order to think clearly about what really matters as we consider the values related to the democratic process, I propose moving to a more abstract level of reflection—the field of ethics. The term ethics has many meanings, so in this series of podcasts I will focus on philosophical ethics, an approach that is suitable for free people. What is the difference between philosophical ethics and other kinds of ethics? To answer that question we must first examine the meaning of philosophy.
The ancient Greek word philosophia has two roots — philia (love) and sophia (wisdom) — literally, the love of wisdom. It is no accident that this way of thinking about philosophy emerged in the same time and place that produced the world’s first democracy. In Athens, during the 5th century B.C. both the quest for knowledge and the distribution of political power changed from being the sole possession of a few wise men or of a single king to being shared among a much larger portion of the population. The Athenian philosophers Socrates and Plato helped analyze and clarify the relationship between the love of wisdom and political order, paving the way for the modern thinkers who laid the foundations of democracy in Europe and America in the 17th and 18th centuries. The way of knowing discovered by the characters in Plato’s dialogue The Sophist is called dialectic, the form of inquiry that is appropriate for free people.
The ancient Athenians were not yet a free people. They owned slaves and excluded women from most positions of political and economic power. But what distinguished them from every previous society was that at least some of the people who were being ruled were included in the ruling process. Once that principle was established, the door was open to the possibility that all citizens might be included. Even today we have not fully achieved that goal. In spite of the bold declarations about equality made in the 18th century, it was not until the 19th century that white males in United States shared power with non-whites; and only in the 20th century did women gain the right to vote. In the 21st century political and economic power still tend to lie in the hands of a few rulers, of the military, and of the executives in giant business corporations. Oligarchy (rule by a few), timocracy (rule by the brave), plutocracy (rule by the rich), and theocracy (rule by religious authority) are forms of government that differ fundamentally from democracy. The principle demanding political and moral equality for all people remains as the “north star” that guides the ship of state in any genuine democracy.
The Athenians of Plato’s day were preceded and surrounded by societies in which a single religious or political authority served as the source of knowledge and power. But both democracy and rational inquiry evolved slowly from earlier developments in distant lands. I will begin this quest for democratic ethics not in Europe but in China more than a century before the birth of Socrates. The facts related to the life and works of Lao Zi, who lived from 580 to 500 B.C., are uncertain and controversial. Scholars do not agree about how much of what we now call the Dao De Jing should be attributed to a book written by a single person and how much is derived from an oral tradition that developed as early as the 7th century B.C. No matter who is responsible for its 81 chapters, both the form and the content of the Dao De Jing provide a good starting-point.
There was something undifferentiated and all-embracing,
Which existed before Heaven and Earth.
Soundless and formless, it depends on nothing external
And stays inexhaustible.
It operates with a circular motion
And remains inextinguishable.
It may be considered the mother of all things under Heaven.
I do not know its name and hence call it the Dao …
If forced to give it another name, I shall call it the Great.
The Great is boundless and thus functioning everywhere.
It is functioning everywhere and thus becoming far-reaching.
It is becoming far-reaching and thus returning to the original point.
Therefore the Dao is great.
Heaven is great.
Earth is great.
And Man is also great.
There are four great things in the universe.
And Man is one of them.
Man follows the way of Earth.
Earth follows the way of Heaven.
Heaven follows the way of the Dao.
And the Dao follows the way of spontaneity.
(Chapter 25)
The format of the Dao De Jing reminds us of the oral and artistic roots of human language. It is poetic, symbolic, and metaphorical. Thus it contrasts sharply with the rules, regulations, and edicts that dominate authoritarian and totalitarian approaches to knowledge, ethics, and politics. The major reason I begin with the Dao De Jing is that it prepares the way for the philosophical concept of dialectic. Professor Keping Wang of the Beijing International Studies University translated the English version of the Dao De Jing I use in this podcast. In his scholarly introduction to this work, he says: “Dialectics is one of the great contributions made by Lao Zi that marks a big leap forwarding the maturity of Chinese thought.” Although many philosophers ranging from Plato to Marx have employed the term dialectic, the core meaning of dialectic entails the complexity of nature and the dynamic character of wisdom. The word Dao itself manifests that meaning. Dao incorporates and distinguishes the unity and difference of opposites. In other words, it includes both Yin and Yang.
The Dao produces the One.
The One turns into the Two.
The Two give rise to the Three.
The Three bring forth the myriad of things.
The myriad of things contain Yin and Yang as vital forces,
Which achieve harmony through their interactions.
(Chapter 42)
Did the ancient Greeks learn about the dialectical way of thinking and being from the early Chinese? We have no direct evidence that they did, but there is a remarkable similarity between ideas found in the Dao De Jing and the philosophy of early Greek thinkers such as Parmenides, Anaximander, Anaxagoras, and Heraclitus. Of special importance is the close relation in both traditions between fundamental ideas of nature (including human nature) and basic moral and political values such as justice, goodness, and equality.
In direct opposition to cultures that consider truth to be already established and possessed by some divine being, a priestly class, or political rulers, both the dialectical and the democratic process consider truth to be a goal that we have not yet reached. This does not mean there is no truth or that it lacks power and influence over human life. The power of truth in dialectical philosophy comes from the lure of seeking or attracting rather than from the force of orders or commands issued from on high. The wisdom manifested in the Dao De Jing resembles the wisdom of Socrates:
It is all the best to know that you don’t know.
It is an aberration to pretend to know when you don’t know.
The sage is free from the aberration
Because he recognizes it as such.
He can be free from this aberration
Only when he recognizes it as such.
(Chapter 71)
The philosophical content of the Dao De Jing tends to be implicit rather than explicit. As I will explain in a later podcast, that is also true of Plato’s dialogues. Neither Lao Zi nor Plato wrote philosophical essays. The listener or reader is required to interpret, analyze, and evaluate the ideas and arguments presented in those texts. This means that they become part of the dialectical process rather than being mere spectators. That way of thinking about philosophy is essential to distinguishing between philosophical ethics and other forms of ethics. Here is my definition of philosophical ethics: “Philosophical ethics is the rational analysis and justification of fundamental moral concepts, principles, decisions, and actions.” What is a rational analysis? As with so many philosophical questions, different schools of thought present different and even conflicting answers. If we define philosophical ethics in terms of “moral concepts, principles, decisions, and actions,” the meaning of “moral” must itself be subject to analysis and justification. Several other terms that cluster around the idea of morality — justice and injustice, good and bad, right and wrong — also require rational analysis and justification.
What one person or one group of people considers to be moral differs radically from what many other people believe to be moral. Is it moral to torture someone suspected of terrorism to obtain information about an impending attack on your homeland? Is it moral to sacrifice the life of a fetus in order to save the life of its mother? Is it moral to take your own life if you are suffering great pain from an incurable disease? It is easy to find contradictory answers to these and a host of other such questions among people from different nations, religious traditions, political parties, and cultures. Historians, sociologists and anthropologists, and proponents of various traditions provide an overwhelming body of evidence concerning such differences. The task of justifying any single answer is a daunting one. Philosophy seeks a way to uncover what is common to all through rational analysis. If such universality is possible, we must seek it in the realm of philosophical ethics rather than by examining what particular individuals or specific groups actually choose to do. What is common becomes clear only after rational analysis and justification takes place. It is a goal rather than a starting-point. We begin not with the truth or with a prescription but with puzzles, symbols, and poetic language that needs explication and reflection. That is the way of Plato and of Lao Zi.
He who assists the ruler with the Dao
Never seeks to dominate the world with military force.
The use of force is intrinsically dangerous:
Wherever armies are stationed,
Briers and thorns grow wild.
As soon as great wars are over,
Years of famine are sure to afflict the land.
Therefore an adept commander (of a defensive force) will
Stop when he has achieved his aim.
He does not use force to dominate the world.
He achieves his aim but does not become arrogant.
He achieves his aim but does not boast about it.
He achieves his aim only because he has no other choice.
This is called achieving the aim without using force to dominate.
The strong and powerful rob and harm the old and weak.
This is called contrary to the Dao.
Whatever is contrary to the Dao will soon perish.
(Chapter 30)
I have organized this series of podcasts around concepts and principles that have been treated by some of the great philosophers. It is impossible to study all ethical positions, or even all of the major options, within this format. Instead, I will focus on philosophical positions that seem viable for all people. Moral questions are concerned not only with theory but also with practice, so I will also consider some declarations of freedom and human dignity that aim to manifest what is common to all people. In other words, I will seek a way of thinking about democracy that is universal, not limited to a specific time or place. To do that I will focus on the ethical principles that ground philosophy. The role of philosophy is not to manifest those principles but to identify, analyze, and explain them. Living according to those principles is the responsibility of everyone, and that means everyone must think as deeply as possible about those principles.
The concepts and principles I will consider apply to the decisions and actions we confront in our personal life, to what we will hear or see in tonight’s news broadcast, to what we will read in the newspaper tomorrow, and to what we find on the internet next time we log on. My ultimate goal is to foster a way of thinking about personal and public issues that will enhance both the understanding and practice of ethics in a democracy.
In my next podcast I will consider one of the most persistent and daunting issues related to ethics: What is the relationship between ethics and religion?
*Copyright 2011, Agora Publications. All rights reserved.
