Moral Responsibility

The Objectivist
MORAL RESPONSIBILTY: IT JUST AIN’T SO
Dunkirk-Fredonia Observer
Sunday, February 25, 2007

A central issue in philosophy and politics is whether human beings are morally responsible for what they do. Persons really are morally responsible only if they really are worthy of praise or blame for what they do. The idea that human beings are morally responsible also lies at the heart of our emotional reaction to bad behavior. For example, our feelings of anger and resentment toward rapists presuppose that they are blameworthy.

To see why human beings are not morally responsible, imagine a computer that is conscious, that is, it has thoughts and emotions. Now all computers have three aspects: input, processing, and output. The input consists of the commands that the user types into it. The processing consists of the way in which the silicon chip converts the electric patterns that are the typed-in commands into electrical firing patterns that are the output. The output is often displayed via words or images on the computer screen. Even if the computer were conscious, it still wouldn’t be morally responsible for its output. This is true even if the computer had the power to re-shape its silicon-chip “brain” since the re-shaping decisions would be merely the result of the previous structure of the silicon chip and the typed-in commands. This wouldn’t stop us from getting angry at the computer, but it would make such anger misplaced.

Now consider an individual human being. By analogy, the input in this case is the environmental forces, the processor is the brain, and the output is the person’s behavior. Like a computer, an individual can change his brain states (and accompanying thoughts) only as a result of previous output, where this output is merely the result of previous brain states and external input. An individual can no more step outside of himself to shape his brain than he can jump out of his own skin. This discussion might be a little hard to follow, but the basic idea is that a person can’t stand outside of himself and decide what sort of person to become because the decision depends on who he already is.

One common objection to this argument is that human beings have free will. That is, given all of an individual’s mental states (for example, what he wants and believes), he still doesn’t have to do one thing rather than another. For example, even if we knew all of a person’s thoughts, he still wouldn’t have to do one action (for example, give chocolate to sick children) rather than another (for example, rob a liquor store). The problem is that if there are factors besides an individual’s preceding mental states that generate his actions, these factors are random or arbitrary. Random or arbitrary factors do not explain why human beings are morally responsible for their actions.

A second objection is that we are immediately aware of our own free will. In deciding what to do, we consider the pros and cons of various options and choose the best one. That is, we know that we are morally responsible because we can observe how we freely make decisions. Since a person knows that he is morally responsible for what he does, there must be something wrong with my argument. The problem with this objection is that our self-awareness doesn’t establish moral responsibility any more than a computer’s self-awareness would make it morally responsible. All we really observe is the translation of our thoughts into action and this doesn’t require free will.

A third objection is that we are morally responsible not because we have free will, but because we don’t have it. The idea is that we are responsible for what we do because our thoughts and actions reflect who we are. This objection is the opposite of the first two because it rests on the denial of free will. This view of responsibility is often held by persons who view the human mind as the brain since it allows them to hold that persons are responsible even though their actions are solely the result of what happens in their brain. The problem here is that if our thoughts and actions are dictated by what affects the brain and if we can’t control what affects the brain (for example, our environment and genes), we aren’t morally responsible for our thoughts and actions. This is analogous to the way in which I’m not responsible for who wins an Oscar because I have no control over it.

The implications of human beings not being morally responsible for their thoughts and actions are striking. First, if correct, this proves that God doesn’t exist. The underlying idea here is that a perfect being like God would tolerate the ocean of evil that has characterized human history only if it is explained by something really good and the only plausible explanation is that evil results from human beings being morally responsible. Since human beings aren’t morally responsible, the widespread existence of evil conflicts with the notion that the world had an all-knowing, all-loving, and all-powerful creator.

Second, without moral responsibility, it’s unclear why human interests (specifically their pleasure and pain) should count more than that of other animals. That is, if human beings are merely another animal, albeit with a wider range of thought and behavior, it’s unclear why their well-being is more important than that of other animals (for example, pigs and chickens). This threatens to undermine the case for our current mistreatment of these animals in factory farming.

The idea that human beings are morally responsible for what they do lies at the heart of many of our beliefs and emotions. Sadly, we just don’t have it.


The Theist
THE BLAME GAME: A-OK
Dunkirk-Fredonia Observer
Tuesday, 02/27/07

I’m certain that at least one morally responsible being walks the earth, because I know that my own actions are often blameworthy or praiseworthy. Let’s focus on the negative. When I lie, cheat, or treat someone cruelly, I not only believe, but know that I’ve done something blameworthy. But The Objectivist urges us to believe that no human is ever praiseworthy or blameworthy for anything. If he’s right, the entire realm of moral thought is based on a delusion. Do you think a wife-beater deserves punishment, while the man who jumped in front of the oncoming subway to save the seizure victim should be lauded? According to The Objectivist, you’re as mistaken as the astrologer who thinks people’s personality traits and fates are determined by imaginary influences from far-off planets.

Strong claims require strong evidence. If I tell you I had eggs for breakfast, you’ll reasonably just take my word for it. But if I tell you that I saw Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster going for a joy-ride in a UFO driven by Elvis, then you’ll demand somewhat stronger evidence than my mere word. So one would expect The Objectivist to offer us rock-solid evidence for his earth-shattering discovery that no action is ever praiseworthy or blameworthy.

Instead, we get only a flimsy analogy. Here it is: intentional action is to a human being like output is to a computer. The idea is that in both cases, the result (action, or “output”--say, on a screen or on a printer) is wholly determined by the “input”(total environment) together with the automatic “processing” (brain processes, computer chip process). Neither the human nor the computer has any real control over what it does--so my friend The Objectivist would have you believe.

You may be impressed by this analogy because some of our actions--be they thoughts, words, or bodily movements--do seem like that. Thus, if the phone rings, I automatically answer it, and if I suddenly stumble upon a fat man in a Speedo, I automatically let out a shriek and cover my eyes. But other actions do not seem that way--they don’t just automatically issue forth from us. Think about the last time you had to make a really difficult decision, such as whether to take one job or another. You have substantial reasons to accept, and to reject both jobs, but you may only choose one, and the jobs seem about evenly matched. When facing a choice like this, you feel free, that is, able to choose one, or to choose the other. Or suppose that you’re married, but you’re tempted to have an affair with your hottie co-worker. Here, your conscience says “No” but your body says “Yes.” (Your spouse, and his or her lawyer, say “No.”) Who will you listen to? It seems that it’s up to you. You’re like a king with multiple advisers giving him clashing advice. You’re free to take the advice of one or the other. Just because you’re subject to influences, doesn’t mean you have no control over the outcome.

Therefore, here’s a better analogy. A normal human is like a man paddling a canoe in a river. The currents are at various times and places on the river weaker or stronger. Sometimes, they push his little boat where they will. At other times, even though his boat is pushed, he puts the tip of his paddle in the water and steers. Sometimes he’ll move away from one current to another one. And sometimes, he even goes upstream, directly against the current. Sometimes he’s strong, and sometimes he’s weak. Sometimes his canoe has momentum, and sometimes it’s dead in the water. Sometimes he’s asleep at the paddle, and the river takes full control. Though he’s far from omnipotent, he is the pilot, and he does, sometimes and to some degree, control where that canoe goes.

This analogy seems to better fit our experience. We don’t stand aloof from the world; we’re almost always buffeted by influences from within and without. Still, we do sometimes freely decide, and freely act. Sometimes the current is strong, and our control is correspondingly week. But at other times, the river flows so slowly that it’s like paddling on a calm, windless lake.

One aspect our human agency that my analogy doesn’t do justice to, is that over the course of a lifetime, as we make a thousand small decisions, we can shape, as it were, the river’s currents. Think of the most disciplined, mature, and spiritual person you can imagine. Now contrast him or her with the poorest excuse for a human you can imagine--someone who is addicted to pork rinds and porn, thinks “Guess what--chicken butt!” is really witty, and devotes most of his waking hours to watching professional wrestling and kicking his dog. Even if their external circumstances were comparable, we believe that the “river” (the thoughts, emotions, and desires) of the mature person would be “calmer” than that of the undisciplined knucklehead. The latter would be frequently driven by his animal desires and emotions, while the former would be freer to say “Yes” or “No” to them. And we can further suppose that these two people are identical twins, and were raised in the same family, but over the course of their lifetimes, they freely made very different sets of choices.

In conclusion, a question to ponder: if you adopt the view that there’s no such thing as moral responsibility, which of these two people are you probably going to become more like?