Douglas Portmore on Philosophy and Moral Disagreement

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oBq-2vpbS60

8:15 - 13:24

"Philosophy is unique as a discipline in that you do not have to accept any disciplinary assumptions or methods in order to count as doing philosophy. You can do philosophy so long as you are investigating certain questions like whether we have free will, whether there are moral facts, and you don't have to accept Rene Descartes' method of doubt or foundationalism or coherentism or X-phi or any other particular methodology to count as doing philosophy. You also don't have to accept any kind of particular assumptions, like you don't have to accept classical logic, or the law of non-contradiction, or the principle of bivalence to count as being a philosopher.

Now that's different from other disciplines. You don't count as doing science if you don't employ the scientific method. You don't count as doing science if you don't accept or assume that there's a world that exists independently of our perceiving it, a world that we can learn about via our empirical observations. And that's why we don't teach creationism in science class, and we don't look at the argument from design in science class. To count as science you have to do empirical investigation and creationism doesn't involve doing that kind of empirical work, and the argument from design for the existence of God doesn't do that kind of empirical work, so it just doesn't count as science.

Same thing with mathematics: if you don't accept Euclid's axioms and you don't accept classical logic as the method of inferring certain theorems and postulates from those axioms using classical logic, then you just don't count as doing geometry.

So philosophy is unique in that in order to count as doing philosophy you don't have to accept any particular assumptions or even particular methodology. And this is why philosophers don't converge on views in the way that scientists and mathematicians do. And this is why, with respect to philosophical disagreement, you don't have a resolution of these philosophical questions in the way that you have a resolution in mathematics and in science. . . . 

Why is there so much moral disagreement? Because we do moral inquiry via philosophical inquiry. And when we do philosophical inquiry, we are not required to start from any certain assumptions, and we are not required to follow any particular methodology. . . . 

So we've had three explanations for moral disagreement: One explanation is the disagreement is due to the fact that there are no moral facts for us to agree on. The second explanation is that although there are moral facts for us to agree upon, we fail to agree because some people are just ignorant of those facts. And then a third explanation is that the reason why there is so much moral disagreement is because moral disagreement is done in the mode of philosophical inquiry, and the nature of philosophical inquiry is such that it doesn't result in convergence on certain particular views.

I think the third is the best explanation, and to see that, notice that we don't find that there's any greater disagreement about moral issues among philosophers than there are about other philosophical questions among philosophers. So we find that the kind of disagreement we have with respect to morality is the same as the kind of disagreement we have with respect to whether there's free will . . . how to solve the mind-body problem, and so on and so forth. So it's no surprise then that we find that there's so much moral disagreement . . ."

Philosophy is like acting

We associate good acting with genius, because it requires a powerful imagination to put yourself in the shoes of a character who is perhaps radically unlike you – different voice, different mannerisms, different vocabulary, attitudes, beliefs, and so on, requiring a deep sense of irony, and the removal of oneself, on the part of the actor. The actor follows through, adding all the necessary bits that this character would do or would say, and how they would do or say it, given complex and varied situations, and removing those things the character would not do or say.

The (competent) philosopher engages in a similar kind of genius, placing themselves in the position of different believers. One day I'm a Muslim, another I am a Christian, another I am an atheist, or a pro-life advocate or a pro-choice advocate or a moral realist or an anti-realist. The best acting shows a deep immersion, a sincerity – a true embodiment of the character, doing the character justice. The philosopher too immerses themselves in each worldview, steelmanning them, doing them justice. The philosopher too follows through, building out each competing theory, adding and taking away what's needed, removing themselves, suspending their own intuitions, and doing this over and over, debate after debate, in an honest, heart-felt search for truth.

Philosophy is a performance. Performance is present, you pass or fail then and there, and the stakes are high. When asked a smart question, you either will give a smart answer or not. The best philosophers interview well, and can do philosophy on the spot – really, oral exams have always been the best test to separate the frauds from the real ones, especially today with AI.

Socrates on skepticism of argument, Phaedo, 90

"It would be pitiable, Phaedo, he said, when there is a true and reliable argument and one that can be understood, if a man who has dealt with such arguments as appear at one time true, at another time untrue, should not blame himself or his own lack of skill but, because of his distress, in the end gladly shift the blame away from himself to the arguments, and spend the rest of his life hating and reviling reasonable discussion and so be deprived of truth and knowledge of reality."

"Yes, by Zeus", I said, "that would be pitiable indeed."

"This then is the first thing we should guard against, he said. We should not allow into our minds the conviction that argumentation has nothing sound about it; much rather we should believe that it is we who are not yet sound and that we must take courage and be eager to attain soundness, you and the others for the sake of your whole life still to come, and I for the sake of death itself."

Socrates, Phaedo, 82 - 83

"The lovers of learning know that when philosophy gets hold of their soul, it is imprisoned in and clinging to the body, and that it is forced to examine other things through it as through a cage and not by itself, and that it wallows in every kind of ignorance.

Philosophy sees that the worst feature of this imprisonment is that it is due to desires, so that the prisoner himself is contributing to his own incarceration most of all.

As I say, the lovers of learning know that philosophy gets hold of their soul when it is in that state, then gently encourages it and tries to free it by showing them that investigation through the eyes is full of deceit, as is that through the ears and the other senses. Philosophy then persuades the soul to withdraw from the senses in so far as it is not compelled to use them and bids the soul to gather itself together by itself, to trust only itself and whatever reality, existing by itself, the soul by itself understands, and not to consider as true whatever it examines by other means, for this is different in different circumstances and is sensible and visible, whereas what the soul itself sees is intelligible and invisible. 

The soul of the true philosopher thinks that this deliverance must not be opposed and so keeps away from pleasures and desires and pains as far as he can; he reflects that violent pleasure or pain or passion does not cause merely such evils as one might expect, such as one suffers when one has been sick or extravagant through desire, but the greatest and most extreme evil, though one does not reflect on this."

"What is that, Socrates?", asked Cebes.

"That the soul of every man, when it feels violent pleasure or pain in connection with some object, inevitably believes at the same time that what causes such feelings must be very clear and very true, which it is not."

Jaegwon Kim on philosophy

"We shouldn't do philosophy by first deciding what conclusions we want to prove, or what aims we want to realize, and then posit convenient entities and premises to get us where we want to go."

-Jaegwon Kim, "Lonely Souls"

Notable Quotes: Plato on being an expert

 ". . . yet in a case where you set up to have knowledge and are ready to stand up and advise as though you knew, are you not ashamed to be unable, as appears, to answer a question upon it?"

-Socrates, Alcibiades I 108e - 109a

From: Plato. Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vol. 8 translated by W.R.M. Lamb. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1955. URL: https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0176%3Atext%3DAlc.%201%3Asection%3D109a

And so to be a philosopher is to ask yourself endless questions, poking and prodding your own views, to see that they stand up to scrutiny. A single smart question is all it takes to bring down a theory, or at least cast it in doubt. So one of the great challenges of philosophy is to anticipate all smart questions against your theories and have ready answers to them. 

Five Reasons to Love Philosophy

I love philosophy 🥰 

here are five reasons why:

1) Catharsis

Writing philosophy allows me to get things off my chest. Without doing that, all those words would be weighing me down. I'm nearly at 100,000 words on the blog -- thank goodness I'm not trying to hold all those words in! There's great relief in unloading my brain and getting it out in writing.

2) Trail of learning

Certainly I will get things wrong. Hopefully I will have a chance to correct my mistakes and leave behind a record of the evolution of my thinking. How cool that philosophy lets me do that! Then, if anyone wonders why I changed my mind, I can show them.

3) Cultivating intellectual virtues

I hate to say it, but I feel like a lot of normal jobs fail to cultivate any virtues in their workers. If anything, most jobs cultivate various vices instead. When I worked a 9-5 office job, I certainly noticed this being true of me, which was one of the many reasons I quit to pursue something I'm passionate about. I was surprised to discover how much my worldview was affected by my job, and I was sad to see how cynical and bitter I was becoming. It makes sense: you have a choice to line up your beliefs with your work or not. If you don't, you will be miserable working a job you don't believe in. But if you do, then your beliefs will be shaped by the culture of your job, for better or worse. Corporate culture is pretty awful.

Only a fool would quit their job to pursue philosophy, but I love philosophy so much that I realized I'd be happy to die trying and miserable to live having never tried at all.

Not only do the intellectual virtues of curiosity, bravery, discipline, and so on, make you a better person, but they make you a deeper, more interesting person too. Being well-read gives you something interesting to say on interesting topics.

4) Never-ending content

Philosophy is so big! There's always another question to explore. Even if I get tired or stuck on one topic, I can work on another area and come back to it later.

5) Legacy

No offense to the chefs of the world, but I'd hate to be a chef! All that work and it doesn't last a day. I'd have to do a cooking show or something. I deeply appreciate art's ability to capture time and to outlive the artist. Your philosophy gives you something to leave behind, allowing you to provide value from beyond the grave, and make a more permanent mark on the world. I know how much I've benefited from reading past philosophers. It's a beautiful thought that I could have a similar effect on someone from the future.

Notable quotes: Kant on philosophy

Section 381, page 83 of Jonathan Bennett (https://www.earlymoderntexts.com/assets/pdfs/kant1783.pdf):

“Mathematics, natural science, law, arts, even morals etc., don’t completely fill the soul; there’s always a space staked out for pure, speculative reason. The emptiness of this space prompts us to resort to grotesque masks and worthless glitter, or to mysticism, ostensibly in search of employment and entertainment though really we are just distracting ourselves so as to drown out the burdensome voice of reason, which, true to its own nature, demands something that can satisfy it, and not merely something that started up so as to serve other ends or to satisfy our inclinations. So a study that is concentrated on •this territory of reason existing for itself must (or so I have reason to hope) have a great attraction for anyone who has tried in this way to stretch his thought, because it is just precisely •here that all other kinds of knowledge—all other goals, even—must come together and unite into a whole.”

David Hume on philosophers

"Many philosophers have consumed their time, destroyed their health, and neglected their fortune, in the search for truths that they regarded as important and useful to the world; although their over-all conduct showed that they weren’t endowed with any share of public spirit and had no concern for the interests of mankind. We have here something that seems to be a contradiction: These philosophers •would lose all enthusiasm for their studies if they became convinced that their discoveries wouldn’t matter to mankind; and yet they •haven’t the least interest in the welfare of mankind!"[*1]

This is I think largely incorrect. It's probably true that philosophers tend to not share in the "interests of mankind" if we're talking about what people find interesting. A great deal of people find the following interesting: live entertainment, traveling, nightlife, watching sports, playing golf, hiking, camping, shopping, and so on. I would guess that most philosophers would rather stay inside and read philosophy books. So sure, philosophers will generally have "little concern for the interests of mankind" if philosophers simply do not share those interests.

But given the context, Hume is talking about welfare and not hobbies. Though it is worth pointing out that what people generally find interesting is not necessarily what they should find interesting, and so insofar as philosophers do not share in the general interests of people, that's hardly an indictment against philosophers. (Philosophers who stay away from social media, trashy TV shows, playing golf, watching dumb movies, playing video games, etc., are not missing out on anything, and if anything their lack of interest in these things says something good about their character. Not to be judgy about it – we all have our vices.)

But saying philosophers "haven’t the least interest in the welfare of mankind" is incredibly incorrect. How many billionaires and millionaires are there who hoard their wealth and deliberately keep more than they need to selfishly maximize their own power over others? If we are to accuse anyone of failing to have the welfare of humans in mind, we should accuse the rich of this. How many businesses fail to raise salaries after scoring record profits? Certainly, there is massive, unchecked, rampant greed in this world, but philosophers carry so little of that guilt, if any. Hume said it himself—philosophers forsake money in the pursuit of truth. And yet we are somehow to think less of philosophers for this? So, are we all to care about money more than truth? Is that the noble way?

Hume might be thinking of the fact that philosophers spend all their time and focus on reading and writing, instead of helping people, and that this is a selfish thing to do. But helping people in what way? By becoming a doctor? But what if a certain person was cursed with 'philosopher brain', which means facing an unyielding barrage of philosophical questions that pop into the mind, making it impossible for him or her to pursue any kind of work lest he or she be a useless, permanently distracted worker? And what if this person was not blessed by the constitution for medical work? I do not have the mental health, or talents, or determination, or morbid curiosity needed to become a good doctor or nurse. I am squeamish. Am I to blame for this? If a genie appeared to me and gave me healing powers, and instead of going out and using them I stayed inside, then you could accuse me of failing to care about others. But whether I have the talents to heal, or to become a good doctor – that's not up to me.

Besides, how noble is it to become a doctor? We know rates of depression are high among healthcare workers. They are overworked, face harassment from co-workers and patients, and must withstand very high stress, literal life-or-death situations, on a regular basis.

If I knew all of this, and I further knew that I do not have the wherewithal to withstand the stress and pressure of being a healthcare worker, and I further knew of my own internal existential struggles and how they likely would be worsened by being around the sick and dying, and I knew of my own disinterest of learning about how the human body works, and I still pursued medical school because I "didn't want to be selfish" or I "wanted to help people", I would be fairly accused of being incredibly imprudent. Inevitably, my healthcare career would be very short, assuming I somehow made it past medical school or nursing school. There would be nothing noble at all about me or something like me trying to become something they never could.

There is another way in which being a doctor could be less noble than we tend to think. Imagine two doctors, the happy doctor and the not-so-happy doctor. The first doctor has wanted to be a doctor since they were little. It's been their lifelong dream. Even as a teenager they began reading all about human anatomy and medicine. By the time they started their pre-med classes in college, they found their classes easy, and their affinity for medical science grew. They felt they were exactly in the right program. They go on to complete a successful residency program and become a well-respected doctor, taking pride in their practice. They are happy and at peace with themselves and treat their patients with warmth and kindness. They pull their nurses aside and talk to them with concern and ask them if they need a break. They pay attention, absorb the world around them, fit into it, and are on top of things. They have a deep understanding of what they are doing and why.

Then you have the not-so-happy doctor. This person goes into medical school purely out of pressure from their parents, and out of financial pressure in general. They struggle in their classes. They force themselves through and become a doctor, but they wonder what could have been. Their head isn't in the game – they are terse with patients and do the minimum to get through the day. It's too exhausting to try hard at something you don't care about. They are distracted and feel out of place. Their misery infects their worldview and they become cynical. Surrounded by death and misery, they come to see humans as nothing more than walking bags of flesh produced by a chaotic, uncaring universe.

We do not need more doctors. We need more good doctors. Repeat for any profession.

So what does it mean to help people? Trying to become something you aren't meant to be helps no one. Some people say following your passion is silly; instead, you should follow what's practical, or helpful to others, and let your passion come later. While this will apply to some people, it won't for others. Specifically, it won't apply to those people who already have a passion and forsake it only to end up distracted and regretful.

What's funny is that some people will say that the inner feelings of the doctor don't matter, as long as the doctor is saving lives. Likewise, we should pursue the work that will help others the most regardless of how we feel. (Or, we should somehow get over ourselves and choose to feel differently about things, enough to enable ourselves to be of use to others.) But whenever I extol the virtues of consequentialism, folks try to shut that down with typical objections, and yet those same folks may just be the ones who say that the consequences of the doctor's work is what matters, not his or her inner worldview. And yet clearly, the not-so-happy doctor is failing to flourish. Besides, consequentialism, as it always does, applies: not only does the suffering of the not-so-happy doctor result from him "doing the right thing" and pursuing a noble profession, but so does the suffering of his patients and colleagues, who are worse off, as his disposition makes him more liable to make mistakes, and more liable to fail to do the right thing when the time comes.

Anecdotally, philosophers in my experience deeply care about the feelings of others, and about the welfare of people. If they had the power to help, they would. We only have so many hours in the day, and we only have one body, one mind, and one life. Naturally, we will move in that direction that is most urgent to us, and for some of us, we are paralyzed by philosophical questions. Working through them is, for us, a matter of life and death.

If only the not-so-happy doctor had some philosophy under his belt, then he might have learned that persons are loci of value, producers of intrinsic value-states, which means that humans are not only valuable, but objectively so, and therefore a fully rational person need not arrive at a cynical, pessimistic view of human nature.[*2] The genuine truthseeker attends to the real value of persons, and their understanding generates their love for humanity. A love produced by faith is shy and unsure, but a love in concert with understanding is proud, affirmed by reason. The good doctor isn't just good, he is correct.

---

*1 - https://www.earlymoderntexts.com/assets/pdfs/hume1739book2.pdf (Jonathan Bennett version; accessed 25 Oct 2024); from David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, Book II, "Curiosity, or the love of truth"

*2 - Cf. Joshua Rasmussen, Who Are You, Really (2023), pgs. 127-142.

Philosophers should not use '-ist' words

I used to be a Christian. Christians have a strong identity (= sense of self; beliefs about oneself). The Christian identity runs deep. Christians attach many lofty ideas to themselves. The Christian identity can be expressed in a number of ways:

1) I am a Christian; a follower of Christ.

2) I am a Child of God. (Galatians 3:29; Ephesians 1:5; John 1:12; Romans 8:16)

3) I am an heir of the covenant. (Galatians 3:29; Romans 8:17)

4) I am dead in Christ and born again as a new creation. (2 Corinthians 5:17; Romans 6:3)

5) Jesus died for my sins; God, the creator of the universe, loves me. (John 3:16; Romans 5:8)

5) I am going to the place prepared for me; I am going to heaven when I die. (John 5:24; John 14:2)

6) I am a member of the church—the body of believers—which is the bridegroom of Christ.

7) I am a kingly creature; in God I live and move and have my being (Acts 17:28); I participate in a grand story with God as my king, and I will be lifted up and glorified through Christ at the end of the world. (Revelation 21:3) 

Having a strong identity causes problems when it comes to seeking truth. By being too attached to an idea, your bias will prevent you from being willing to give up your belief even if it's false.

To be a truth seeker, we must weaken our identities. Philosophers should, at all times, keep a comfortable distance from their views. Detachment is an intellectual virtue.

Because of this, I don't think philosophers should use 'ist' terms like "I am an atheist; I am a naturalist; I am a moral realist; I am an error theorist; I am an Aristotelian" and so on.

It's better to say "I am convinced of atheism; My view says that reality is exhausted by natural objects; I believe that moral realism is true; I lean toward error theory." Or, "I adhere to naturalism; I defend moral realism; I'm a proponent of the argument from evil" and so on.

Now, philosophers all the time use '-ist' words. I'm not trying to make a mountain out of a molehill. In fact, as long as philosophers acknowledge worries of identity and bias up front, then I think it's perfectly fine to resume '-ist' language because, frankly, it often feels natural and easy. Or, if this understanding becomes common knowledge, then we can use '-ist' words knowing that we are detached from the view and do not stake our deepest sense of self on the view.

As always though, there is the counterargument, which might go like this. As philosophers we do not want to be wishy-washy; we want to make confident claims when we can. We want to take a real stand on real issues and declare our allegiance to a view we feel strongly about. Being too detached faces the charge of spinelessness, or dishonesty. The brave, honest, and noble thing to do is to stick your neck out and plant your flag on a position that you are willing to defend, and to do this you must call yourself a Platonist or a nominalist or a substance dualist or what have you.

I'm open to this view too. After all, while I defend anti-istism, I wouldn't call myself an anti-istist!