The dirty little secret about moral rules
April 21st, 2006 by Erich ViethMany people feel that to be moral is to follow a set of rules. But there’s an implicit unwritten preamble to every set of rules or commandments: they don’t apply equally to everyone.
Consider “Do not injure or kill other people,” for example. Assume that two people have fallen off a ship and you’ve only got one lifesaver. One of the people is a stranger and the other is your mother. Should you consider throwing the lifesaver to the stranger instead of your mother? Most people would say no.
A second example: you might voluntarily put your life in danger to save members of your immediate family, but most of us wouldn’t offer our extra kidneys to people we’ve never met. We walk around simply assuming that having an extra kidney (when someone else desperately needs one) is not a moral act.
Here’s a third example: You have $100. You want to spend it on a fancy dinner for yourself and your significant other. You are aware that if you sent that same $100 to your favorite African relief association you could save the lives of two starving people. Are you allowed to spend the money on the fancy dinner knowing that doing so will condemn two people to certain deaths? Most people would say yes. The same dollars that could be used to save human lives can also buy jewelry, souped-up car stereos and expensive tickets to sports events. If you ever bring up this undeniable fact to a guy who’s about to plunk down big money to buy a fancy new TV, though, don’t expect him to thank you. He will inevitably get perturbed because you just exposed him to the toxic thought that dollars are “fungible” (there aren’t special kinds of dollars that buy only luxuries–every dollar that can buy a luxury can also be used to buy food for a starving person).
We have great power to manipulate ourselves by roping off troublesome thoughts, such as the thought that dollars are fungible. Humans have limited attention. Our minds work like spotlights. When we shine our attention here, we don’t attend to what’s over THERE. We are thus exquisitely able to stop thinking about things that interfere with our immediate impulses. NOT thinking about desperately starving people allows us to buy amusements and luxuries with clear consciences.
Those who claim to live by rule-based morality (e.g., the Ten Commandments), like to pretend that all the rules simply “apply,” as though humans don’t retain the full power to decide when their favorite rules apply and to whom. We are therefore able to instinctively “take care of our own” without any pang of conscience. For most of us, it is OK to avoid those troublesome thoughts we’ve roped-off in some far corner of our brains. Out of sight out of mind is perfectly acceptable, we reason, as though deciding when rules apply is not a moral act in and of itself.
When desperate strangers beg from us on the street, we rarely hand over fifty cents, even though we’d empty our entire bank account to help a desperate sibling (even, for many of us, an undeserving one). When it comes to people we’ve never met, we are quite willing to let them starve so that we can pay for cosmetic surgery and vanity license plates. When we read that children in other countries are dying of horrible yet curable diseases, we think “that’s too bad.” When our own child falls and scrapes her knee, we immediately run out and buy her $50 worth of disposable toys to cheer her up.
The most primary real-life commandment is to decide which people we will care about–to designate who is in our realm of concern. This decision is the most important moral act, though the people who believe in rule-based morality don’t consciously consider these decisions at all. And if we decide that only a small group of people deserve the protection of our moral rules, we aren’t being very moral at all. The most important moral rule is not to love thy neighbor as thyself; it’s to decide who qualifies as your “neighbor.”
So tell this to the next person who claims that he lives his life based on the Ten Commandments (or any other set of moral rules). Tell that person this dirty little secret about moral rules: Unless you do the hard work to apply your moral rules far and wide, you’re living most of your life on the basis of impulse, prejudice and greed, not rules.
In fact, to fail to fully contemplate your realm of concern is to act as if there were no moral rules at all.
April 22nd, 2006 at 10:22 am
This essay opens up all sorts of intriguing issues. One that has rattled around inside my head for a long time goes like this:
1) The Bible says the Ten Commandments are supposed to be God’s moral laws that all people must follow, but…
2) The Bible also says people cannot possibly follow the Ten Commandments to God’s satisfaction, because of our fallen nature, so…
3) If God is perfect, then why did He create a set of moral laws that He knows people can’t possibly follow, especially if He was then going to damn us all to hell for not following them? Isn’t this like telling your child, “I command you to jump 400 feet into the air; if you don’t do it, then I’m going to punish you?” No parent in his right mind, much less one that truly loves his child, would ever do something like this…so, why would a loving God do so to the entire human race?
Christians will answer this question by saying that this is the reason God sent Jesus: to save us all from God’s catch-22. But this makes no sense, either: if God is perfect, then why did He create a catch-22 in the first place? Doesn’t the need to send Jesus to fix the problem suggest that God isn’t perfect after all?
And speaking of God not being perfect…the Bible also says that God is omniscient, but if that’s true then why doesn’t the Bible ever mention that 1800 years after Jesus dies scientists will discover dinosaur fossils that will seem to contradict the Genesis creation story? If I were as perfect and omniscient as the Bible says God is, then I would have put something like that into the Bible, to make it obvious that I really deserved to be worshipped for my perfection and omniscience. You know, something like telling us that the earth isn’t the center of the solar system (much less the center of the universe), or that boiling water will make it safe to drink, or that disease is carried by viruses and bacteria and not by evil spirits. Why didn’t God put just one previously unknown scientific advance into the Bible — something that would be verifiable — just to tip us off that He really does know everything? Forget all the stuff about the miracles that Jesus supposedly performed, or about dining with his pals three days after he supposedly died — wouldn’t it have been far more compelling if Jesus had taught people how to do calculus, how to forge steel, or how to harness electricity? Or even just mention that there was a whole new continent to be discovered by sailing west? Instead, we get stories that can never be substantiated about Jesus walking on water and turning water into wine — tricks that any magician of the time could have easily replicated. Just think of how many more faithful followers God might have if we could open the Bible and find Newton’s law of gravitation, or the atomic structure of a carbon atom, or a recipe for really good beer, or an explanation of how the pyramids of Egypt were built, or even something very simple like how to perform cardio-pulmonary resuscitation. I bet there’d be a lot more people striving to follow the Ten Commandments if God had used the Bible to tip us off to some of His natural mysteries, which could be confirmed, instead of just His supernatural ones, which can never be.
April 22nd, 2006 at 10:48 am
I’m applauding this thought. Really and truly. Well said.
July 17th, 2006 at 1:27 am
I enjoy the spotlight metaphor. I had a similar idealism explained in opposition to a claim in an article of my own, in which I claimed that true scientific methodology is explicitly lacking in bias. What an individual proceeded to point out that any inquiry, be it philosophical, scientific, moral, or any other nature, is always inherently biased.
This is shown because all inquiries are built upon wonder, in that we would not pursue truth if we were not biased to find an answer. And so human knowledge is not based upon its capabilities, but on only those capacities it has chosen to spotlight. The rest is in the dark.