Our time thinks in terms of ‘knowing how to do it’, even where there is nothing to be done.
Karl Jaspers
We can now do what we want, and the only question is what do we want? At the end of our progress we stand where Adam and Eve once stood: all we are faced with now is the moral question.
Max Frisch
This page is covered by the Demos open access licence. Some rights reserved.
Full details of licence conditions are available at www.demos.co.uk/openaccess
Introduction
The great Danish theologian and moral philosopher, Knud Logstrup, mused: ‘It is a characteristic of human life that we mutually trust each other… Only because of some special circumstance do we ever distrust a stranger in advance… Initially we believe one another’s word; initially we trust one another’.
Not so another religious philosopher, Leon Shestov, a Russian refugee and professor at the Sorbonne: ‘Homo homini lupus is one of the most steadfast maxims of eternal morality. In each of our neighbours we fear a wolf… We are so poor, so weak, so easily ruined and destroyed! How can we help being afraid!… We see danger, danger only… ’
Surely, Logstrup and Shestov cannot both be right. Or can they? True, they contradict each other, but don’t we all get contradictory signals from the experience of our own lives? Sometimes we trust, sometimes we fear. More often than not, we are not sure whether to trust and disarm, or to sniff danger and be on guard – and then we are confused and unsure what to do. Of which has there been more in our lives, of trust or of fear? The answer seems to depend on the kind of life we have lived.
Logstrup was born and died in tranquil, serene, peaceful Copenhagen, where the royals bicycled the streets together with their subjects. When they finished their rides they were able to leave their bicycles on the pavement knowing that, in the absence of thieves,
Demos 1
This page is covered by the Demos open access licence. Some rights reserved.
Full details of licence conditions are available at www.demos.co.uk/openaccess
Alone Again: Ethics After Certainty
they would be there when they needed them again. Shestov was hunted down and refused university posts by the tsarist regime for being born in the wrong faith, then hunted down and exiled by the anti-tsarist revolution for professing the wrong faith, then drank his fill from the bitter chalice of exile in a foreign country. The two wise men reported two stridently different experiences. Their generalizations contradicted each other, but so did the lives they generalized from.
And this seems to apply to all of us.We generalize from what we see. Whenever we say ‘people are what they are’, what we mean is the people we meet; people shaped and moved and guided by the world we together happen to inhabit. And if we say once that people can be trusted, and at another time that they are wolves to be feared, and if both statements ring true or at least partly true – then it seems that what people are or appear to be depends, wholly or in part, on the kind of world we live in. Moreover, if what we think about each other reflects what we are, it is also true that what we are is itself a reflection of what we believe ourselves to be; the image we hold of each other and of all of us together has the uncanny ability to self-corroborate. People treated like wolves tend to become wolf-like; people treated with trust tend to become trust-worthy. What we think of each other matters.
We will never know for sure whether ‘people as such’ are good or evil (though perhaps we will go on and on quarrelling about it). But it does matter whether we believe them to be ‘basically’ good or evil, moral or immoral, and consequently how we treat them. What matters even more is whether people are trusted with the capacity of making moral judgments, and consequently considered to be moral subjects – that is, persons capable of bearing a moral responsibility, not just a legal one, for their deeds.
2Demos
This page is covered by the Demos open access licence. Some rights reserved.
Full details of licence conditions are available at www.demos.co.uk/openaccess
The Rise of Reason:
Bureaucracy and
Business
In 1651, at the dawn of what later came to be known as the modern era, Thomas Hobbes passed the verdict which was to guide the thought and action of modern legislators, educators and moral preachers:
…men have no pleasure (but on the contrary a great deale of griefe) in keeping company, where there is no power to overawe them all… And upon all signes of contempt, or undervaluing, naturally endeavours, as far as he dares (which amongst them that have no common power to keep them in quiet, is far enough to make them destroy each other,) to extort a greater value from its contemners, by dommage…
Hereby it is manifest, that during the time men live without a common Power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which we called Warre: and such a warre, as if of every man, against every man…
The message was straightforward: if you wish men to be moral, you must force them to be so. Only under the threat of pain will men stop paining each other. To stop fearing each other, men must fear a power superior to them all.
The corollary was another briefing: you cannot build on people’s impulses, inclinations and predispositions. Their passions (that is,
Demos 3
This page is covered by the Demos open access licence. Some rights reserved.
Full details of licence conditions are available at www.demos.co.uk/openaccess
Alone Again: Ethics After Certainty
all passions except the passion for better life, the one passion that lends itself to logic and reason) must instead be rooted out or stifled. Instead of following their feelings, people should be taught, and forced if need be – to calculate. In a moral world, only the voice of reason should be heard. And a world in which only the voice of reason is heard is a moral world.
Thus arose the great divide which was to become the trademark of modern living: one between reason and emotion, taken to be the substance and the foundation of all life-and-death choices: like those between order and chaos, civilized life and the war of all against all. In particular, the divide separated the regular, predictable and controllable from the contingent, erratic, unpredictable and going out of hand. Indeed, for every problem there is by definition one, and only one, true, reason-dictated solution, but a virtually infinite variety of erroneous ones; where reason does not rule,‘everything may happen’, and thus the whole situation is hopelessly beyond control.
The moral world can only be, therefore, a regular, orderly world (an ‘orderly’ world is one in which probabilities of events are not random; some events are considerably more probable than others, some have virtually no chance of happening). Moral persons cannot be buffeted by erratic impulses; they can only be guided, consistently and in a systematic fashion by laws, rules and norms; principles which clearly specify what in a given situation one should do and what one should desist from. Morality, like the rest of social life, must be founded on Law, and there must be an ethical code behind morality, consisting of prescriptions and prohibitions. Teaching or coercing people to be moral means making them obey that ethical code. By this reasoning, becoming moral’ is equivalent to learning, memorising and following the rules.
Modernity came up with two great institutions meant to achieve that purpose; to assure the prevalence of morality through following rules. One was bureaucracy, the other was business. The two institutions differ from each other in many respects, and are often at loggerheads with each other, but they agree on one quite seminal thing: they are both bent on the eradication of emotions or at least keeping them
4Demos
This page is covered by the Demos open access licence. Some rights reserved.
Full details of licence conditions are available at www.demos.co.uk/openaccess