IPublic justification and identity-constitutive reasons and narrative justification

 

(to be published in: Maureen Sie, Bert van den Brink & Marc Slors (eds.)

Reasons of One’s Own, Aldershot (Ashgate) 2004)

 

Albert W. Musschenga

 

Introduction

Most people, includingNot only moral philosophers, are convinced that a person but almost everyone firmly believes that people should be able and willing to justify theirhis or her judgements, decisions and actions, especially when they affect others. We want to be able to count onhave an interest in the rationality, reliability, and integrity of those we are dealing with, and we ourselves wantprefer to be known as rational, responsible and reliable persons. Unwillingness to justify one’s actions is seen as disrespectSomeone who is not willing to justify his actions, will be accused of lacking respect for other personsone’s fellows. Essentially, then, Jjustification is therefore essentially a social, public enterprise. It presupposes an audience, a public, even when it takes place in foro interno. Justification is also public in that it draws from the shared resources of a particular community.

The nature and the limits of justification are much- debated topics in moral philosophy. ‘Principlists’ and ‘casuists’ or ‘particularists’ differ in opinion about the nature of justification. The growing insight in the cognitive and rational under-determination of choices puts the issue of the limits of justification on the agenda of moral philosophy. A widely recognised nichearea where of underdetermination is rampant is that ofare choices between incommensurable options. If Joseph Raz (1997)were right when saying argues that such choices are wide-spread,. If he is right it means that would imply that a large areamuch of our practical life falls outside the domain where rational discussion is possible.

                   I am convinced that this phenomenon of rational under-determination confronts us, not with the limits of justification as such, but with the limits of a view on justification in which it is essentially tied up with taking an impersonal public, impartial perspective. David Wiggins , in his article( ‘Universalizsability, Impartiality, Truth’, 1987, p. 82) argues that there is a connection between the moral perspective and the intersubjective, and between the intersubjective and the public perspective (1987, p. 82) (1987, p. 82). In his view a public is an audience situated in a particular time and place. In speaking about formal constraints on the concept of right, John Rawls, in ( A Theory of Justice, 1972, p. 133)  distinguishesmakes a distinction between the condition that principles are to be universal in application from the condition and that of  ‘publicity’. The last onePublicity  “’arises naturally from a contractarian standpoint. The parties assume that they are choosing principles for a public conception of justice. They suppose that everyone will know about these principles all that he would know if their acceptance were the result of an agreement. ( ....) The point of the publicity condition is to have the parties evaluate conceptions of justice as publicly acknowledged and fully effective moral constitutions of social life’ (1972, p. 133)” (1972, p. 133).

                   Rawls is undoubtedly right that the condition of publicity ‘arises naturally from a contractarian standpoint’. His suggestion that this condition is confined to principles of justice is wrong. Every justification is public in the sense that it is addressed to a public. When principles for the basic structure of society are the subject of justification, the public comprises all members of that society. Thus, dDepending on the nature of the subject however, the forum to which public justification is addressed, may be smaller or larger than the whole of a society. This implies that questions on the agenda of public justification need not be ‘public’ in the sense of ‘political’. Even the choice of the destination of a family’s holidays, can be the subject of a public justification. In my case the forum would consist of my wife, my daughter, and myself.

                   My aim in this paper is a modest one. I argue that also in the very niche of under-deter­mination, that of choices between incommensurable options, a kind of public justification is possible. This justification has the shape of a narrative, told from the personal perspective of the agent’s life-story. It makes use of what I will call ‘identity-constitutive reasons’. The standard view on the aim of justifying an action is: to convince the public that it was the right thing to do, not only for the agent but for any other relevantly similar person in relevantly similar circumstances. The justifier seeks agreement fromhopes and expects to get the assent of other members of his community. The aim of narrative justification is to show that an action coheres with the agent’s self-narrative. Although narrative justification does not proceed from a public point of view, it is still public in that it has to draw its reasons from the public resources of a community.

In section one I deal with the phenomenon of incommensurability. In section two I introduce the distinction between identity-constitutive and identity-neutral reasons. Section three contains my view on narrative justification. I close, in section four, with discussing the relation between making the incommensurable commensurable and establishing unified agency.

 

1. Incommensurable options

Let’s Ssuppose that I have a discussion with a friend about the literary quality of the books of Chaim Potok and John Le Carré – two authors whom we both appreciate. In our discussion, we concentrate on Potok’s The Chosen and Le Carré’s The Spy Who Came in From the Cold. ‘Literary quality’ is thus the covering value with respect to which we want to compare the two books (Chang 1997, p. 5). In reflecting upon the concept of literary quality we identify several criteria or contributory values (Chang 1997, p. 5) such as suspense, vividness, emotional depth, imaginative force of the language, richness of language, composition, and so on. Literary quality appears to be a multi-criterial concept. Although we agree that one book is better than the other with respect to some of these criteria, we are unable to come to a conclusion about their overall quality. This is what Steven Lukes calls ‘overall incommensurability’ (1991, p. 34). Since my friend and I have sufficient resourcescan afford to buy both books, this case of incommensurability does not constitute a real problem of choice for us.

                   Suppose that I ask myself,: wWhich satisfies me more, at offers me the most satisfaction, eating the best pizza Calzone I know in our local pizzeria, or attending an organ concert by a famous organist on the Hinsz-organ in the Dutch Reformed church in Leens, a village near my place of birth.? Since I value both, that question makes no sense for me. With respect to satisfaction, neither outweighs one of the two activities is higher in value than the other, yet their value differs vastlywhile they are also not of equal value. In this case we are confronted with ‘specific incommensurability’ (Lukes 1991, p. 34).

                   On the market we can exchange everything. Money, as the medium of exchange, functions as the common denominator. With the money I get by selling my old bike, I can buy one of Potok’s books. Although bothtwo objects both of which have a price, --  i.e. can be compared and ranked in economic value, -- nonetheless we can still regard them as incommensurable if those of their properties which we deem relevant, are incommensurable. Lukes speaks here of ‘relevant incommensurability’ (1991, p. 34).

                   Those of you who, like me, only go shopping for clothes when they need something, say, a suit, will know the situation that you selectend up with a couple of very diverse suits that you like and find appropriate to wear, e.g. at work. Since you don’t want to spend money on more than one suit, you have to choose. Since all the remaining suits are roughly equal, reason cannot determine my choice. One suit is not better than another. Usually it doesn’t take me much time to decide. For me, such a choice is trivial. Why should I waste my energy and free time with endlessly comparing garments, when there is no best choice possible? This is also what I used to say to my daughter when I went out with her to buy her some clothes and she could not come to a decisionde. She was then too young to quarrel with me about whether such choices are, or are not, rationally underdetermined. But it was clear that such choices were weightier for her than for me.

                   There are many situations in which we have to choose between incommensurable options, whenre the choice is not trivial as in the above examples, but of utmost importance. I regard the choice between two diverse, career options as non-trivial. This is, as Joseph Raz rightly remarks, a choice that one ought not be indifferent about. If you are indifferent, you do not have a proper respect for yourself (Raz 1985/6, p. 126). Jonathan Dancy explains in Moral Reasons why we cannot be indifferent in such existential situations, why tossing a coin to determine the choice would be inappropriate. When a choice between incommensurable options is trivial, the pictures we can draw of one option can be superimposed on that of the other, resulting in a single picture which showsing that the reasons in favour and those against are equally salient. In existential situations the salience of the features recommending or advising against are at odds with each other (Dancy 1993, p. 124).

                   In his later publications on this subject Raz argues that it is the will that determines the choice between incommensurable options. Reasons determine the rational eligibility of options, the ‘will’, that is, “’the ability to choose and perform intentional actions”’, steps in to determine the choice between them. Agents can choose among them as they feel inclined, do what they want to do or what they feel like doing. Although reason cannot determine the choice between incommensurable options, this does not imply that justified choice is impossible. Once eligibility is determined, justified choice is no longer dependent on comparison between alternatives. The brute fact that you came to realise that you want career A more than career B seems to make for Raz your choice for A justified (Raz 1997, p.p. 126-7 f.). Although Raz recognises that these are the kindsort of choices that determine the kind of person you are and will be, he neglects, fails to comment on, overlooks???goes by the fact that choices about, say, a career, are not isolated events in someone’s life, but a constitutivemake part of its continuing story.

Several authors argue that a justifiable choice between incommensurable options can be made by answering the question what kind of a person I am/ or want to be and what kind of a life I want to have (Kekes 1993, Taylor 1985). Taylor characterizses what that person must do: as ‘makinge the incommensurable commensurable’. A comparison always presupposes a specific point of view. The classical utilitarian calculator determining the relative value of two alternatives by using a common denominator, makes a judgement from an impersonal point of view. What Taylor means is that in a situation of choice between incommensurable options commensuration has to take place, not from an allegedly ‘objective’ point of view, but from the particular, subjective, point of view of the agent himself. Lukes calls this ‘specific commensurability’ (Lukes 1991, pp. 48f.-9). When reflecting upon several career options, it is often not clear to an agent in which direction he wants his life to taketo go with his life. It does not help him to focus upon the intrinsic merits of the respective options. He has to find out whether for example to becomeleading the life of, say, a lawyer or of a professional musician fits into the kind of life he wants to live. A career not only consumes a lot of your time and energy, it also influences the kind of person you become and need to become. The virtues of a good lawyer are not the same as those of a good musician. To choose a career is to discover what is important for you, which of your talents you want to develop.

 

2. Identity-constitutive and identity-neutral reasons

While facingStanding before an inevitable choice between incommensurable options it makes no sense for an agent to ask what is, from an impersonal and  objective, impartial point of view, is the best thing to do. If the issue at stake is non-trivial, he cannot display an attitude of indifference. He has to seek reasons that can tip the balance in favour of one of the options. The kind of reasons needed for that job areWhat kind of reasons can do that job?  Rreasons that do not refer to intrinsic merits of  an option, but to facts about the meaning of an option, regarded from the perspective of the agent’s life-plan or life-story.

Suppose that one of your friends,you have a friend, Carla, who confesses that she has a love affair with the husband of another friend of hers. Carla has not told her own husband about the affairthis, and does not intend to do so. You know this husband, a mere acquaintancebut he is not a friend. Carla however means a lot to you; a close, she is a great friend. But you dislike her lack of honesty and sincerity towards her husband. In your view she is treating him badly, which he does not deserve. You find it hard to stay friends with her when she continues this love affair. You feel yourself standing beforefaced with a choice. If you don’t tell Carla what you really think of her behaviour and act as if nothing has changed, you feel yourself, as it were, an accomplice to something immoral. But if you tell Carla the truth and press her to be honest towith her husband about the love affair, this will certainly mean the end toof your friendship. Both options are supported by incommensurable values: the first one by the value of friendship, the second one by the values of sincerity and honesty. If you decide to tell your friend that you cannot longer be friends with her when she keeps her love affair secret to her husband, she will undoubtedly ask you for your reasons. As a friend, she also has a right to know your reasons. You then will have to tell her that the values of sincerity and honesty are central to, even constitutive of the kind of life you want to live. Your reasons are what I call ‘identity-constitutive reasons’.

What then are ‘identity-constitutive reasons’? [voor mijn gevoel zit hier een hiaat in het betoog, waardoor het voor mij rommelig wordt. Kun je hier niet beter even invoegen wat je gaat doen, namelijk jouw tegenstelling contrasteren met twee andere tegenstellingen? Kunnen subjectieve en objectieve redenen beide òf identity-constitutive òf identity-neutral zijn?] It is quite common to distinguish between subjective and objective reasons. Subjective reasons refer to a person’s interests. I can justify my buying a certain type of carautomobile by referring to subjective reasons. But if a couple justifies its decision to have an abortion, the public will not accept it when they solely refer to subjective reasons. In public justification one expects reasons to be objective. Objective reasons are based upon shared values and principles. An objective reason is only then a reason for action for someone if it refers to values, principles, projects or relationships that he has recognised as valuable, as worthwhile. Thus, all objective reasons that are reasons for action for someone, are in a sense related to his values, projects, and so on.W That being so, what then distinguishes someone’s identity-constitutive reasons from his other – ‘identity-neutral’ – reasons for action? I will try to answer this question by confronting this distinction between identity-constitutive and identity-neutral reasons with a more familiar one, that between agent-neutral and agent-relative reasons.

  

According to Thomas Nagel in The View from Nowhere, agent-neutral reasons are reasons for action which are independent of the particular perspective and system of preferences of the agent. They stem from values such as pleasure and pain, satisfaction and frustration that are connected to the objective point of view. Agent-relative reasons stem from the subjective point of view, the perspective of a person’s own life, which, though they can be publicly recognised, do not in general provide reasons for others and do not correspond to reasons that the interests of others provide him. Nagel distinguishes three categories of values which provide agent-relative reasons. The agent’s special relationships to his own projects provide ‘reasons of autonomy’, his special relationship to his own actions provide ‘deontological reasons’ and his special relationships to relatives and friends provide ‘reasons of obligation’. As will become clear in the following, my distinction between identity-constitutive and identity-neutral reasons cuts across Nagel’s distinction between agent-relative and agent-neutral reasons (Nagel 1986, pp. 170 ff.).

Nagel assigns the diverse categories of values to two distinct points of view. My distinction between identity-constitutive and identity-neutral reasons is different from Nagel’s distinction between agent-relative and agent-neutral reasons in that it centres upon  the nature of the relationship between the agent and certain values. My basic distinction is between items (traits, characteristics, conditions, etc.) that I recognise as values, and items that I do not recognise as values. I do, and do not, recognise as values. [zoiets bedoel je, geloof ik, jouw Engelse zinnetje is logisch onmogelijk; je kunt namelijk niet zeggen: ‘die waarde erken ik niet als waarde’ Wel: ‘Sommigen zien dit als een waarde, ik ook’ of ‘ik niet’] Only those values provide an agent with reasons for action that he has recognised as values. . One has to The distinguish second distinction I make is between a) judging something as valuable – a process in which I determine the general characteristics of an object, and b) valuing ­­– a process in which I determine its desirability for me.[1] The observation that there are more things worthy of being valued which might provide me with reasons for action than I, with my limited talents and limited resources, can realise in my limited lifespan, necessitates making such a distinction.1 Although I may come to recognise many things as intrinsically good, not all of them can be equally important to me.[2] No one can have a special relationship with all the values he recognises as values. Everyone who thinks about what kind of a life he wants to lead, will have to make some choices.

Like everybody else, I will have to decide to dedicate my life to furthering some,  values and projects rather than and not others values and projects. These are the values and projects that constitute my identity. Before taking such a decision, I will ask myself what kind of values and projects I (i)  care about most and (ii) have the talents and opportunities to actually serve.

Personal projects are not just desires or preferences, they are responses to values shared within a particular community. These values are thus not less ‘objective’ than other values.[3] . They do differ in providing the agent special, identity-constitutive, reasons for action.[4] 2  Someone who dedicates his life to preservation of nature, cannot be expected also to work with the same intensity for homeless people. But he may recognise the values inspiring people to aid the homeless behind helping the homeless as values. He can endorse these values, even when he hasn’t identified with them – didn’t dedicate his life to realising them.

 

3. Narrative explanation and narrative justification

Reasons for action have different functions. They are used in justifying, guiding and explaining. Reasons to guide actions and reasons to justify actions are two sides of a coin. Deliberating a decision one must make, or the stance one will take, one looks for reasons to orientate one’s thought and action. While justification relates to decisions made or judgements passed, and in that sense is backward-looking, guidance is forward-looking.

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

  The goal of explaining a decision is not to seek assent, but to make the decision intelligible. Explanatory reasons are sometimes identified with motives. Whether that is correct, depends on one’s concept of motives. In her Intention Elisabeth Anscombe makes a distinction between ‘backward-looking motives’, and ‘forward-looking motives’ which can be redescribed as intentions (Anscombe 19582, pp. 20f-1). If I decide to report myself as a witness of a murder, my intention is to advance that the criminal is found and convicted. If the murderer is someone I know and hate, my motives will probably be hate.

                   Suppose all John’s friends think that he is happily married. A friend happens to run into John, exchanges some pleasantries and  inquires how he and his wife are doing.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     When meeting one of them, this friend asks John how his wife is doing. HeJohn tells him that they are going to be divorced. This friend is stupefiedflabbergasted and wants to know why. John answers that he hates her. Hate is an understandable motive for divorce. However, this answer does not satisfy John’s friend because it does not fit into the image he has of John. A simple statement of motive does not really explain my – or our –one’s decision to divorce. InFor such cases Ricoeur is right when he says – in a debate with Gadamer, criticizsing Anscombe – rightly says that  ‘“... in order for a motive to have explanatory force, it must be given in the form of a kind of small autobiography. By that I mean that I must put my motive under the rules of story-telling”’ (Ricoeur 1991a,  p. 227). John will have to tell his friend a story about how it could happen that he, who seemed to be so happily married, came to hate his wife so thatdid develop such strong and enduring feelings of hate against his wife, that a divorce became is now unavoidable.

                   In Ricoeur’s theory of narrative, stories have plots, aslike Aristotle’s argued in his Poetics prescribed. The operation of ‘emplotment’ is a synthesis of heterogeneous elements:-- events, incidents, actions, discoveries, and so on, -- into the totality of a story. From a temporal point of view, composing a story is ‘drawing a configuration out of a succession’ (Ricoeur 1991b, p. 21f). There is an analogy between the role of narrative in practical reasoning and in the historical and social sciences. Historians distinguish between ‘chronicles’ and ‘narratives’. Chronicles are chronological lists of events. Following Ricoeur, the philosopher of history   Hayden [Henry?]White argues that the function of a story is to attach a meaning to an event (White 1984, pp. 22f-3.). Ricoeur says that history is about people’s actions in the past. For ‘reading’ actions, the same hermeneutical principles apply as for reading a text (Ricoeur 1979). A historical narrative should make clear the point of a certain course of events. An event can be called ‘historical’ only if it is more than a single, unique occurrence, something unique. It has significance inasmuch as it adds something to the development of a ‘plot’. The historical narrative does not impose a meaning on events that are in themselves meaningless,. as iIt is an interpretation of meaningful human experience and actions, for human experience as such has a narrative structure.

The point of using narratives in practical argumentation is analogous to the function of historical narratives in historical explanations. A narrative can make the point of a subject’s decisions and actions understandable; it can explain why from the narrator’s point of view a decision or an action was right and inevitable, from his point of view. A narrative argument has succeeded when the audience shares the conclusion which a person has presented as the plot of the story. When John tells his friend how many times his wife has betrayed him with other men, and how deeply she has humiliated him, this friend will come to understand how John’s came to develop an intense hatered for her and why he concluded that there was nothing left for him but to divorce from  her.

The usual view is that a narrative may explain why a decision or an action was, from the agent’s point of view, right and inevitable. The narrative then reveals the agent’s motivating reasons. However, I would suggestwant to defend that a narrative is sometimes also able to justify an action. In such cases the reasons that motivated an agent to do some action,act simultaneously also justify itthat act. In my view, we need to distinguish between two goals of justification. The first one is to establishing that an action was the/a right thing to do; the second is to establishing whether an action was done for the right reasons. In Kantian approaches you act for the right reasons when the reasons that justify that action, are also the reasons why you do it. However, when choosing between two incommensurable options, your reasons for a particular choice cannot be the reasons that justify that choice. Both options are equally supported by reasons. The only reasons that can tip the balance are identity-constitutive reasons. Such reasons refer not just to the action you intend, but, much broader, to what you intend with that action. At this point the narrative of your life comes to the fore. However, even if the person is honest, sincere and does not deceive himself, and even if a narrative is plausible – succeeds to explain someone’s choice between two incommensurable options – the narrative does not necessarily also justify that choice.

Those who are willing to justify their choices between incommensurable options want to be recognizsed as serious and responsible persons striving for a good and valuable life. They will only get recognition if the identity-constitutive values they refer to in their justification are also accepted as values by their audience. The normative power of these reasons does not just stem from their role in constituting someone’s identity. The reasons need to be morally acceptable. Imagine the owner of a company owner who is searchinglooking for a new manager. After conducting a series of interviews with applicants, he ends up with two excellent, but quite diversefferent candidates. One is male, the other is female. The two options he has to choose between, are overall incommensurable. He decides to take the woman. He justifies his decision by saying that he regards it as unfair that women are underrepresented in managerial positions and that the struggle against that injustice is an important aim in his hiring policy. In our (Dutch) society this a perfectly acceptable story. Imagine

Imagine that in an alternative scenario the owner concedes, after some pressure, that he preferred the female candidate because she is a beautiful woman. Also,He adds to that that he likes to be surrounded by beautiful women. He finds that there is nothing wrong with his decision because she is as qualified as the male candidate. The latter has no reason to complain about his decision. He has just the misfortune of not being a beautiful woman.

The term  ‘decision’ – and this applies also to the term ‘choice’ – may refer to the outcome of a process of decision, as well as to the act of deciding.  A decision (as outcome) may be justifiable although the decision (as action) is unjustified.  In our society it is generally accepted that sexism is morally wrong.  In a case like this, the object of moral disapproval is not the director’s decision (as outcome), but his motives and reasons. His character is questioned.  He did a  – not the – right thing which he presents as being the right thing for him to do, but he did it for the wrong reasons. [you mean: his decision (as outcome) was not wrong, but the (identity-constitutive) reasons that led him to the decision (as act) were? ik heb moeite met ‘He did a -- not the -- right thing…’]

                   This conclusion needs a further explication. In evaluating someone’s actions, we can either take his subjective point of view, or the point of view of one’s community, or both. When discussing the rational eligibility of the option chosen by an agent, we abstract from the agent’s point of view. We are then not interested in whether the action coheres with his self-narrative. Paul Gauguin’s contemporaries may have criticised him for leaving his wife and children. They were right, fFrom the point of view their community’s morality rightly so. If he repliedhad countered that he would not only have become unhappy by staying at home, but also would have been disloyal to his calling as an artist, they would probably answersay that he didn’t have the right priorities. One should not sacrifice one’s commitments to one’s wife and children for such a calling. They would criticise his character, the person he had become. Even in situations that only identity-constitutive reasons can tip the balance, these are not beyond moral criticism. They can only publicly justify the decision as an act if they refer to a community’s shared moral values and principles.

 

4. Integrity

Some authors such as Elijah Milgram claim that rendering competing considerations commensurable is a central part of the process through which unified agency, or the practical unity of the self, is achieved (Milgram 1997, p 162). In this view, justifying decisions between incommensurable options also serves the goal of proving that we have unified agency. I will end my paper with discussing three cases which illustrate that making the incommensurable commensurable not always requires, or results in, establishing unified agency.

The first onecase figures also in some of my other publications (Musschenga 2001, 2002). Second or third-generation members of ethnic-cultural groups in the Netherlands are often said to ‘live between two cultures’. They experience conflicts and tensions between the norms and values of Dutch culture and of that of their own group. This is especially the case with children whose parents’ culture differs substantially from Dutch culture, such as Turkish and especially Moroccan children. The experience of conflict and tension is probably more intense among girls than among boys, because of the great differences in ideas about the equality of the sexes between traditional Turkish and Moroccan culture and mainstream Dutch culture. It often happens that daughters leave their parents because they are not granted the freedom and independence that is enjoyed by indigenous Dutch girls. Since familial bonds are of great importance to the Turks and Moroccans, breaking contact with the family or being expelled from the family constitutes a severe emotional loss to these girls. They value and need their family as well as their independence. That is why many girls try to avoid a situation in which a breach with their family becomes unavoidable.inevitable.  They decide not to choose between the Dutch way of life and the way of life of their parents. Therefore they choose to submit at home to the traditional authority of their father, while striving for independence in the world outside. I assume that most of them are perfectly able to justify their split existence. They regard living in two worlds as inevitablyescapably constitutive of their identity as members of the second or third generations of immigrants.

                   The other case is completelyrather different. Most of the incommensurable options I discussed, are non-trivial, comprehensive options that concern the direction of one’s future life. A different category of incommensurable options are dilemmas. Dilemmas are conflicts, not between ideals, but between moral requirements of which neither overrides the other. A person involved in such a dilemma, will act morally wrong whatever choice he makes. If the dilemma is non-trivial, an agent usually will usually seek some reasons that might help him in taking a decision. Imagine an intelligence officer who is taken prisoner on a mission together with four of his helpers. He is tortured but did not reveal anything valuable to the enemy. The enemy now threatens that they will kill the four helpers if he does not give them all the information they *want. This information is vital to his country’s military interests. The man decides to sacrifice the helpers. He justifies this decision by saying that, being an intelligence officer, it would be impossible for him to go on living whenif he had betrayed his country. This is a typical identity-constitutive reason. Although many people outside the spheres of army and intelligence may be inclined to say that they shwould have decided differently, the decision is perfectly understandable and legitimate from the officer’s point of view. Although the officer affirms by this decision the central place of his military duties to his identity, the decision-making process does not result in establishing unified agency. On the contrary, the decision tears him up. Since tragic dilemmas are part and parcel of human existence, and no-one will escape the burdens of guilt connected with decisions he had to take, it does make sense to ask oneself what kind of guilt feelings one can endure best. After deciding in a tragic dilemma, a person has to restore his unified agency, which requires learning to cope with feelings of guilt.

                   I end with a case in which rendering competing considerations commensurable, though unavoidable, even seems to destroy unified agency . It is the case of ‘Sophie’s Choice’, a much- discussed example in the literature about dilemmas. Sophie arrives with her two children at a concentration camp. A guard tells her that she must choose one of her children to be killed, and the other will be send to the children’s barracks. If she refuses to choose, both children will be killed. To illustrate the point I want to make, I need to rewrite the story. Suppose that one of the children is weaker than the other. His chances of surviving the concentration camp are therefore lower than that of the other child. Confronted with such an immoral choice, a morally responsible agent will force himself to take that fact into account. The rational thing to do is to choose for the stronger child. Suppose that Sophie is a moral person. But she is also a mother who always trieds to give the weaker child extra care. If she decides for the stronger child, the very reason that justifies her decision, which is also her reason, destroys her identity.



 

Endnotes

 

1  This insight is central to objective pluralist theories which hold that the good is not one but plural, that there are many, possibly conflicting, incommensurable, values.

 

[2] Elisabeth Anderson regards the distinction between ‘value’ and ‘importance to a person’ as crucial to the theory of value (1993, p. 238).

 

[3] It is quite common to distinguish between subjective and objective reasons. Subjective reasons refer to a person’s interests. I can justify my buying a certain type of automobile by referring to subjective reasons. But if a couple justifies its decision to have an abortion, the public will not accept it when they solely refer to subjective reasons. In public justification one expects reasons to be objective. Objective reasons are based upon shared values and principles. However, not all objective reason are reasons for action. An objective reason is only then a reason for action for someone if it refers to values, principles, projects or relationships that himself  has recognised as valuable, as worthwhile. Thus, all objective reasons that are reasons for action for someone are in a sense related to his values, projects, and so on

 

[4] I agree with Christine Korsgaard in her ‘The Reasons We Share’ when she says that the ‘agent-relative’ component of personal projects – or ‘ambitions’ as she prefers to call them – is not the source of subjective reasons. The act of identification does not confer value upon the things an agent identifies with. They already have value for him. But it does seem to motivate the agent to do a lot of work he would otherwise not do (Korsgaard 1996, p. 288). The same applies to my identity-constitutive reasons

 

 

2 I agree with Christine Korsgaard in her ‘The Reasons We Share’ when she says that the ‘agent-relative’ component of personal projects – or ‘ambitions’ as she prefers to call them – is not the source of subjective reasons. The act of identification does not confer value upon the things an agent identifies with. They already have value for him. But it does seem to motivate the agent to do a lot of work he would otherwise not do (Korsgaard 1996, p. 288).

 

 

References

Anderson, E, Value in Ethics and Economics. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1993.

Anscombe, G.E.M, Intention, Oxford: Blackwell, 19582.

Chang, R, “Introduction” in R. Chang (ed.), Incommensurability, Incomparability, and Practical Reason, Cambridge, Mass./London: Harvard University Press, 1997, 1-35.

Chappell, T, Practical rationality for Pluralists about the Good. Ethical Theory and Moral Practice, 2003: xx-xx

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