03 June, 2000

Author: George Irbe

Back to George's Views

The "Good" and the Misguided

Aristotle begins his work The Nicomachean Ethics (the version used here is as translated by David Ross) with the statement in Book I: 'Every art and every investigation, and similarly every action and pursuit, is considered to aim at some good. Hence the Good has been rightly defined as "that at which all things aim".' A little further on, Aristotle discusses the good that is sought by men: 'If, then, there is some end of the things we do, which we desire for its own sake (everything else being desired for the sake of this), and if we do not choose everything for the sake of something else (for at that rate the process would go on to infinity, so that our desire would be empty and vain), clearly this must be the good and the chief good.'

The chief good - the totum bonum - is also known as "happiness". Later on in Book I, line 1097a25, Aristotle elaborates on the meaning of happiness: 'Since there are evidently more than one end, and we choose some of these for the sake of something else, clearly not all ends are final ends; but the chief good is evidently something final. Therefore, if there is only one final end, this will be what we are seeking, and if there are more than one, the most final of these will be what we are seeking. ... we call final without qualification that which is always desirable in itself and never for the sake of something else. Now such a thing happiness, above all else, is held to be; for this we choose always for itself and never for the sake of something else ...'

It seems that Aristotle was confident that most of the contemporary scholars and educated people who would read his work would understand what he meant by the word "good" and accepted as given that "good" is a real, qualitative term, that "good" exists, just as does its opposite -- evil. Aristotle certainly did not question the validity of the concept of "good" as such.

Only later on, in Book VI of the Ethics, and because he deemed it necessary to clarify the distinction between truth as arrived at by what he called "practical intellect" and "contemplative intellect", Aristotle indicated what the self-evident, categorical "good" is about by stating how men should decide what is really good for them, particularly in instances that involve moral decisions. Aristotle recognized the existence of real, self-evident goods, the kind that all men need and that all men, therefore, ought to desire whether they actually do or do not desire them; and when they do desire the right goods, they exercise the right desire.

This very important thought is stated by Aristotle in Nicomachean Ethics, Book VI, 1139a20:

'What affirmation and negation are in thinking, pursuit and avoidance are in desire; so that since moral virtue is a state of character concerned with choice, and choice is deliberate desire, therefore both the reasoning must be true and the desire right, if the choice is to be good, and the latter must pursue just what the former asserts. Now this kind of intellect and of truth is practical; of the intellect which is contemplative, not practical nor productive, the good and the bad state are truth and falsity respectively (for this is the work of everything intellectual); while of the part which is practical and intellectual the good state is truth in agreement with right desire.'

It is indeed regrettable that Aristotle did not devote more time and effort to elaborate on the meaning of "right desire" and its crucial role in determining what are the truly real goods for us. If he had done so, perhaps this crucial distinction would not have gone unnoticed for millennia by all but a very few scholars. The consequences of ignoring Aristotle's admittedly brief statement about "right desires" have been enormously detrimental to the development of Western philosophy on ethics and morals in the modern era.

To my knowledge, there is only one man today -- Mortimer J. Adler -- who has, literally single-handedly, brought the essence of Aristotelian ethics back into prominence, particularly by shining the spot-light on the very important concept stated by Aristotle in Book VI of the Nicomachean Ethics.

I venture that civilization itself will eventually recognize that it owes Mortimer J. Adler quite a lot for refurbishing this crowning jewel of Aristotle's thought after it had been neglected for centuries.

I personally must thank Adler for arousing my interest in Aristotle's Ethics and for the exhilarating reassurance he has provided to me that the "good" IS, without a doubt. To me that is next in importance only to having a reassurance that God exists. And for that reassurance, also, I must thank Mortimer J. Adler. He provided it for me in his book How to Think About God (1980). If this resembles a paean to Mortimer J. Adler, let it be so. I cannot think of a more deserving philosopher, ancient or modern.

In the rest of this piece I will make copious use of passages from Adler's works. I hope I have his blessings to do so -- after all, nobody on this earth can expound on the subject better than he can.

First of all, I want to present the argument -- via Aristotle and Adler -- in support of the "good." Afterwards, I will present the arguments of the gainsayers, also in Adler's words, and Adler's refutation of their arguments.

Defining the "Good"

Before the emergence of several modern schools of thought in the philosophy of ethics, starting in the seventeenth century, philosophers recognized that, quoting Adler: 'there are certain primitive terms that transcend the categories which make definition possible. Among them are such basic philosophical terms as "being" and "non-being", "one" and "many", "same" and "other". These terms are predicable of any subject, and as predicable of any subject, they are predicated in an analogical, not a univocal, sense; any term that is thus predicable must be indefinable. (Note from Adler's Philosophical Dictionary: We speak univocally when in naming things we use a word with exactly the same meaning every time we use it. When we speak analogically we use the word in neither the same sense, nor in a different sense, when the senses are related or unrelated. The distinguishing mark of the analogical predicate is that we find it impossible to say what it is that is common to the several uses of it; e.g. the word "sharp").' [4]

Aristotle was a commonsense philosopher who did not see the necessity to attempt defining the analogical predicate "good". Adler provides further explanation of the nature of the indefinables:

'The indefinables are, of all terms, the most intelligible, even though we cannot state their meanings in definitions. Instead, we state their meanings in axioms or self-evident propositions -- propositions that were called common notions because they do not belong to any particular discipline, propositions that Aristotle spoke of as correlating "commensurate universals" because their constituent terms are of equal scope as universal predicates. Such equi-valence makes these propositions convertible.

One example of this very special type of proposition is Euclid's common notion that a whole is greater than any of its parts. This statement, or the converse statement that any part is less than the whole, explicates the meaning of both of these indefinable terms, which are commensurate universals, by stating their relation to one another. That is why they were once called propositions per se nota -- propositions known to be true through the understanding of their terms.

The proposition about wholes and parts is a self-evident and necessary truth. When we understand its truth, no open questions of fact remain. We cannot ask, "Is it really true that this part is less than the whole to which it belongs?"

With respect to "good" as an indefinable term, its commensurate universal is expressed by the term "desire" -- or any of the synonyms for this word, such as "appetite," "yearning," "seeking," "aiming at," "tending toward," and so on. The correlation of these commensurate universals is stated by such terms as "satisfies" and "aims at"; thus we can say, "The good is that which satisfies desire," and "Desire is that which aims at the good." Here the correlating terms "satisfies" and "aims at" function exactly as the correlating terms "greater than" or "less than" in the case of the whole and part.

The self-evident propositions or axioms which correlate the good and desire not only show that good and desire, like whole and part, are primitive indefinable terms; the axioms also explicate the meaning of these terms.

The correlation of the good with desire can be summed up in the statement that the good is the desirable and the desirable is the good. However, "good" and "desire" are no more identical in meaning than whole and part are.' [4]

We must focus next on the sense in which Aristotle used the word "right" in "right desire". As everyone knows, there are different kinds of desires, and not all of them are commendable. But then, good and desire being commensurate universals, one can infer that there can also be less than commendable goods. However, that appears to be an illogical contradiction: can there be a "bad" good? Yes, in a sense, indeed there can be, as explained by Adler in the following passages:

'At the beginning of Western philosophy, Socrates repeatedly observes that no man seeks that which in fact he deems injurious, harmful, or disadvantageous to himself and, conversely, that everyone seeks that which in fact he deems beneficial, advantageous, or good for himself. Socrates immediately adds that the deeming or opining of what is beneficial or harmful, advantageous or disadvantageous, may, of course, be mistaken. In other words, that which appears good to the individual (that which he deems advantageous to himself) may in fact be bad for him (disadvantageous, injurious, or harmful). Here, in its seminal form, is the basic distinction between what later came to be called the real and the apparent good.

By the apparent good, we mean that which is called "good" by an individual because, and only because, it is in fact desired by him. By the real good, we mean that which is good for an individual whether or not he is aware of desiring it.

But, have we not now postulated a meaning for good other than the one that derives from the correlation of the good with desire? The solution of this problem lies in a distinction between two modes of desire, each correlative with a different mode of the good.

Certain desires are elements in the make-up of man, whether or not the individual consciously acknowledges them, whereas other desires come into existence only as a result of factors that operate on the individual. The philosophers prior to the seventeenth century who recognized this distinction between two modes of desire called desires of the first type "natural desires," and desires of the second type "conscious desires."

We can use the word "needs" for all desires inherent in the nature of man and common to all men, and "wants" for all the desires elicited by circumstances and thus as various as the circumstances of individual experience.

The axiom that the good is the desirable and the desirable is the good covers both modes of desire and both modes of the good, but not in the same way. The real good is the good that is correlative with needs, and the apparent good is the good that is correlative with wants. Real goods satisfy natural desires or needs; needs aim at real goods. The correlation of apparent goods with wants means that apparent goods are things we do in fact consciously desire. In contrast, the correlation of real goods with needs means that real goods are things we should or ought to desire, whether in fact, at this moment, we consciously do or not.

This last point adds to the intuitive truth that the good is the desirable another intuitive truth that takes the form of a normative judgment; namely, that the real good ought to be desired, and nothing but that which is really good ought to be desired. These two intuitive truths are the only self-evident principles required in order to establish ethics or moral philosophy as a relatively autonomous discipline.' [4]

Now we have the gist of it. There are two types of goods: apparent goods and real goods. Real goods correlate with needs and natural desires -- what Aristotle called right desires. Apparent goods correlate with wants and conscious desires.

Apparent goods, wants, and conscious desires can be innocuous and benign, but they can also be actually bad for a man. The real goods, needs, and natural (right) desires are always self-evidently true. This leads Adler to declare that 'the distinction between natural and acquired desires, or needs and wants, and the distinction between real and merely apparent goods enable us to state a self-evident truth that serves as the first principle of moral philosophy: We ought to desire whatever is really good for us and nothing else.'[1]

This first principle of moral philosophy contains the word "ought" which makes it a prescriptive statement. Adler can make this ought statement with confidence, because common sense indicates that 'the very understanding of the "really good" carries with it the prescriptive note that we "ought to desire" it. We cannot understand "ought" and "really good" as related in any other way.'[1]

This self-evident first principle allows us to promulgate the "oughts" and "ought nots" of a natural code of morals and ethics. Subsequently, Adler defines the entire foundation of this system of ethics in terms of a basic categorical ought, which he calls the normative principle that governs the making of a good life and also sets the standard of right desire:

'The standard of right desire is set by the one basic categorical ought that states our obligation to seek the complete good, the totum bonum that leaves no need unsatisfied. Formulated with maximum explicitness, that categorical ought with respect to the end can be expressed as follows: one ought to make a really good life for one's self by desiring each and every real good that is part of the totum bonum, and by seeking each in such order and proportion with respect to the others that all can be possessed to the fullest extent that each is really good; and one ought not to seek anything the possession of which would interfere with achieving a good life for one's self.' [5]

The Misguided

There are those who say with Immanuel Kant (1724-1804): "Act only on that maxim through which you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law."

There are others who basically say: "there is nothing good or evil but thinking makes it so."

The men who through the ages have ignored, or have been ignorant of, the content of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, have struggled through various philosophical approaches while trying to prove or disprove the validity of a categorical and universal moral code which sets the standard of good, evil, right, and wrong; and prescribes the oughts and ought nots for the implementation of such a code.

I call these men "misguided", because, be it due to either a naive or a willful ignorance of him, they have not been guided by Aristotle. Mortimer Adler simply says that they are mistaken; one of his books used as a source here is titled "Ten Philosophical Mistakes." In that book, and elsewhere, Adler refutes the claims and criticisms of the non-Aristotelians. Jousting in the philosophical arena is done with a plethora of terms and concepts. Adler has few equals in wielding this weaponry, as he vanquishes the "misguided" opponents. To start with, let's have Adler prepare the ground and describe the terms of engagement.

Here Adler defines some of the operative terms of the argument:

'The subjective is that which differs for you, for me, and for everyone else. In contrast, the objective is that which is the same for you, for me, and for everyone else.

The relative is that which varies from time to time and alters with alterations in circumstances. In contrast, the absolute is that which does not vary from time to time and does not alter with alterations in the circumstances.

On one side of the issue about moral values and prescriptive judgments are those persons who hold that they are subjective and relative. On the other side of the issue are those persons who hold that they are objective and absolute.'

There are two types of judgments: (1) descriptive - existential or characterizing assertions about what does or does not exist, or what is or is not the character of a existent thing; (2) prescriptive (also called normative because they lay down standards or norms of conduct) - assertions involving oughts and ought nots about what ought or ought not be sought or what ought or ought not be done.' [1]

'Clearly there is a chasm between judgments about what does or does not exist, or about what are or are not the characteristics of some existent thing, and judgments about what ought or ought not to be sought or what ought or ought not to be done. The first type of judgment, involving assertions that are existential or characterizing, let us call descriptive. The second type, involving oughts or ought nots, let us call prescriptive. Sometimes the latter are also called normative because they lay down standards or norms of conduct.

The chasm referred to above is the chasm between matters of fact on the one hand, and questions of value on the other hand, especially such values as good and evil, right and wrong. Judgments about these matters are intimately related to the type of judgment that I have called prescriptive or normative. If one thinks that something is really good, that is tantamount to saying that it ought to be sought. So, too, if one thinks that something is really right to do, that is tantamount to saying that it ought to be done.

There is one group of people who think that when we are dealing with reality, with matters of fact and real existence, we do have genuine knowledge and have some hold on truth, even though that truth may be subject to doubt and correction. But in their view, our judgments of value about good and evil, right and wrong, or our prescriptive judgments about what ought or ought not be done, are neither true nor false. They express nothing but our personal preferences, our likes and dislikes. Moral judgments are just mere opinion, concerning which there is no point in arguing, as there is no point in arguing about matters of taste or personal predilection. They may even quote Montaigne or Shakespeare to the effect that "there is nothing good or evil but thinking makes it so."

The other group of people takes the diametrically opposite view. For them there are absolute and universal standards of right and wrong, of what ought to be done or ought not to be done. They feel secure in their dogmatic assertion that the existence of objective moral values and standards is incontrovertible.

Both groups are equally dogmatic. The first group would be unable to defend its subjectivistic and relativistic attitude toward moral values, if that view were critically challenged. The second group would be unable to support the opposite view by rational arguments. It might appeal to articles of religious faith, but that is as far as it could go.' [1]

Men have tried to subject the concepts of good and evil, right and wrong, and their prescriptive derivatives -- the oughts and ought nots -- to various formalized, objective tests and treatments. All these efforts have been made either in ignorance of the Aristotelian concepts or in order to disprove their validity. Some of the philosophical methodologies which either question the existence of a categorical good, or try to prove its existence by other than Aristotelian means, have gained popularity to the extent where they are identified by the names of the philosophers who originated them. Continuing on in Adler's words:

'Of the two formal theses that have a critical impact on the common-sense view, the first is associated with the naturalistic or empiricist approach to moral philosophy and the second with the repudiation of naturalism and empiricism. The first thesis is that all evaluations are reducible to describable facts -- that, for example, whenever we call something good or bad, these words serve as short-hand for a state of facts that can be reported or described. Although this is the position of the philosophical school that goes by the name of "ethical naturalism" or "ethical empiricism," it might be more appropriately called "ethical reductionism", since it holds that whatever can be validly said in discourse that uses terms of value or makes moral judgments can be reductively equated to what we know about the nature of things through our empirical sciences or through other empirical knowledge. It denies that moral philosophy is even a relatively autonomous discipline that has principles of its own.

The second formal thesis is expressed in the proposition that the good is indefinable. This not only (1) excludes the possibility of defining good and bad by reference to the describable properties or observable natural things or processes; it also (2) excludes the possibility of defining good and bad by reference to unobservable or trans-empirical entities.

Being incompatible with one another, the position of the naturalists and that of the anti-naturalists cannot both be true; but they can both be false. Both are wrong, each for a different reason. No moral philosopher of note prior to the eighteenth century claimed absolute autonomy for ethics; none prior to the nineteenth century attempted to reduce all statements of value to statements of fact, or normative judgments to descriptive propositions.

A statement of fact is one that asserts that something is or is not, or asserts that it has certain observable properties, that it behaves in certain observable ways, that it stands in certain observable relations to other things; and that it may even take the form of an explanation of the facts described by positing the existence and operation of non-observable entities.

A statement of value is one that asserts that something that exists, or some property that it has, or something that it does, or something that has happened or will happen, is good or bad. And the apparent difference of such statements from statements of fact is that the words "good" and "bad" do not designate observable properties or attributes of existent things or processes. Goodness and badness are not matters of observable fact. This can be expanded to include descriptive and normative statements -- is-statements and ought-statements. Applied to human conduct, it appears to make all the difference in the world whether one says how men do in fact behave or how they should or ought to behave.

The naturalist in ethics contends -- and this is his central contention -- that it can be shown that every statement of value or normative judgment can be reduced to a statement of fact or descriptive judgment. The reduction can be accomplished only in the following two ways:

(1) The first consists in equating the good with the useful, and the better with the more useful. When we say that X is good, we are saying something that is subject to empirical observation and testing; namely, that in fact X serves as a means to or results in Y -- a state of affairs that we think is good. If all values can be reduced to matters of fact, then everything that is called "good" is so called because it is a means to something else. Nothing can ever be called good in itself, good without being in any way useful. Thus, if X is good because it results in Y -- a state of affairs that we also think is good, then Y is good in the same way that we called X good, because it in turn is a means to Z, and so on ad infinitum, because there is nothing that can be called good in itself or good simply as an end.

(2) The naturalist similarly reduces normative judgments or ought-statements to descriptive judgments or is-statements. This mode of reduction converts all ought-statements into hypothetical statements. Just as the first mode of reduction rested on the denial that anything can validly be called good simply as an end, so the second mode of reduction rests on the denial that there are any valid categorical ought-statements.

A hypothetical ought-statement always takes the following generic form: "If you want Y, then you ought to do X." There are many species of this generic form: the hypothetical penal ought: if you want to avoid the sanctions imposed by the law, then you ought to behave in conformity with it; the hypothetical approbative ought: if you want the approval of your fellow-men or of your community, then you ought not to behave in a certain fashion; the hypothetical technological or artistic ought: if you want to produce a certain result, then you ought to take the following measures; the hypothetical pragmatic ought: if you want to make a good life for yourself, then you ought to do this or that in order to achieve it.

Is-statements express the kind of knowledge that can be called "know-that", hypothetical ought-statements express the kind of knowledge that can be called "know-how." The second mode of reduction turns all ought-statements into statements of fact by making all of them hypothetical. For example, ought you to want Y, which is the condition given for asserting that you ought to want X as a way of getting it? The only answer admitted by the naturalist is that, if in fact you do want Z, and if in fact Y is a way of getting Z, then and only then ought you to want Y.

The ethical naturalist maintains that all statements of value can be reduced to statements of fact and all normative or ought-judgments to descriptive or is-statements. But that is not the case. The end posited in the question that common sense has tried to answer, "How can we make a good life for ourselves?" asks about something that is good as an end, not as a means. The second reason for saying that the reductionism of the naturalist is untenable is because it can be said categorically that I ought to make a good life for myself, and it can be said categorically that one ought to seek that which is really good for himself. This is self-evidently true when we understand the distinction between the real and the apparent good.' [3]

The last paragraph in the above passage says something of the greatest significance, i.e., that one should understand the meaning of a good life and be able to distinguish between real and apparent good. I would like to add the obvious implication in the above statement that, in order to have this understanding, one must be familiar with and comprehend the contents of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics.

Some philosophers, John Dewey for one, find it difficult to grasp the idea of good as an end in itself, as Adler uses the term when referring to the totum bonum of a lifetime. Adler gives the following response:

'John Dewey wages an unremitting attack on the notion of what he calls "fixed ends" or "ultimate ends." If, by an end, one must always mean a terminal end Dewey would be completely right, because there are no terminal ends in this life. However, long before Dewey struggled with this matter, philosophers had distinguished between two senses in which an end can be called ultimate -- terminally, and normatively. An end is a final or ultimate end in a purely normative sense of ultimate if (a) it is a whole good toward the achievement of which all other partial goods serve only as means, and if (b) that whole good is never attained at any moment in time. The only good that satisfies these two conditions is a good life as a whole.' [3]

As for the naturalists, Adler says:

'The refutation of naturalism in ethics rests on the truth of two propositions: (1) that there is at least one good to be sought entirely for its own sake and not as a means to anything beyond itself; and (2) that there is at least one categorical ought that is self-evident.' [4]

Among the misguided are the subjectivists of the Epicurean or hedonistic belief that the good is equivalent to pleasure, and therefore moral values and prescriptive judgments are subjective and relative. Adler disposes of them as follows:

'Identifying the good with pleasure, it is an easy step to conclude that what is deemed good by one individual because it gives pleasure may not be deemed good by another. But the facts of everyday life make it impossible to maintain that the only thing everyone in fact desires or regards as desirable is pleasure.

Aristotle, in the Nicomachean Ethics, argued that pleasure accompanies our activities, but "the pleasure proper to a worthy activity is good and that proper to an unworthy activity is bad."

In the modern world the leading self-avowed hedonist is John Stuart Mill who also cannot long maintain the simple-minded view that the only good is pleasure. Eventually he resorts to distinguishing between pleasures that are more or less desirable.

Sensual pleasures are certainly not the only things we desire. The pleasure we experience whenever any of our desires is satisfied -- the pleasure that is identical with the satisfaction of desire -- is an accompaniment of the good, but not identical with it.' [1]

The most substantial -- and at first glance invincible, but, as it turns out, misguided, nevertheless -- assault on the very notion that there can be any valid categorical ought-statements, and thus, any legitimate code of prescribed morals, comes from David Hume (1711-76). In the face of Hume's challenge of Aristotelian ethics we once again find Mortimer Adler and his unfailing philosophical lance answering the call and unseating an opponent of recognized renown:

'The logical fallacy to which Hume called attention is that it is fallacious to draw an ought-conclusion from premises that consist entirely of is-statements.' [4]

'Hume is entirely correct. A prescriptive conclusion cannot be validly drawn from premises that are entirely descriptive. He is responsible for the skepticism about the objective truth of moral philosophy that is prevalent in the twentieth century. This skepticism goes by the name of "noncognitive ethics." The content of noncognitive ethics is neither true nor false.' [1]

'Hume's "naturalistic fallacy" can be summarized in two sentences. (1) Our descriptive knowledge of matters of fact, even if it were complete, gives us no basis for affirming the truth of prescriptive imperatives -- statements of what ought or ought not to be done. (2) That being the case, an ethics that is deontological rather than teleological, i.e., an ethics of moral obligation rather than one of expediency, is impossible.

The first position is true, but the second does not follow from the first. It is a non sequitur. There need be only one self-evident, categorical imperative which combined with true statements of fact validates true prescriptive conclusions. "You ought to desire everything that is really good for you, and nothing else ought to be desired" is the required self-evident, categorical imperative. It is derived from Aristotle's conception of right desire and from his distinction between real and apparent goods.' [2]

'The very understanding of the "really good" carries with it the prescriptive note that we "ought to desire" it. We cannot understand "ought" and "really good" as related in any other way. With this self-evident truth as the first principle we can solve the problem posed by David Hume. By employing this first principle as a major premise and adding to it one or more descriptive truths about matters of fact (in this case, descriptive truths about human nature), we can validly reach a conclusion that is a further descriptive truth.' [1]

'But when we know the needs or natural desires of men, as a result of knowing the elements of human nature and the universal features of human behavior, and when, knowing what is really good for men, we let that lead us to normative conclusions about what all men ought to desire, are we not committing the modal fallacy Hume had in mind when he found ought-conclusions issuing from a series of is-statements about matters of fact? Aristotle had spotted the possibility of such fallacious inference twenty-two centuries earlier.

Aristotle had laid down the rule that in order validly to conclude that something ought to be done, the premises must involve at least one ought-statement. The paradigm of the practical or normative syllogism makes clear that a normative or ought-conclusion cannot be validly inferred from premises that consist entirely of non-normative propositions, that is, statements of fact, is-statements, descriptive propositions.

Our conclusions about what men ought to desire are drawn from the facts of human nature and behavior. However, they are not drawn exclusively from matters of fact. The facts about human nature and behavior constitute that which functions as the minor premise in the reasoning under consideration. The major premise is the normative principle that we ought to seek that which is really good for us. This self-evident or indemonstrable principle -- an ought judgment -- is intuitively known; it is known to be true when we understand the meaning of the good and the distinction between the real and the apparent good. As such, it is not only a normative proposition, but also one that is independent of all matters of fact; that is, of any empirical knowledge we may have or be able to obtain about human nature, and especially about human needs or natural desires. Being independent of all matters of fact, it can be validly combined with such matters of fact as we may know, to produce by valid inference a whole series of conclusions taking the following form: (since X as a matter of fact is something that we need) X ought to be desired.' [4]

Casting doubts on the existence of a categorical good has been advantageous to many proponents of ideological dogmas during the last 250 years. And there have been philosophers willing to accommodate the demands for a noncognitive ethics. Adler has recognized the possibility for misconstruing the relationship between "good" and "desire": 'Identifying the good with the desirable rather than with pleasure in either of its two senses still leaves them unprotected against subjectivism and relativism.' [1]

One of the early modern philosophers, Baruch Spinoza (1632-1677), 'advanced the view that whatever in fact we desire we call good. Whatever objects we happen to desire, we deem them good because we desire them, not the other way around -- desiring them because they are in fact good.' [1]

Spinoza's erroneous conclusions can be refuted relatively simply; as Adler says: 'the error it involves can be removed by calling attention to another relation between good and desire than the one considered by Spinoza. This involves a distinction between two kinds of desire, with which modern philosophers from Spinoza to Mill and others do not seem to be acquainted.' [1] Adler is here referring to the distinction between "natural desires" and "conscious desires".

Another philosopher, from more recent times, G.E. Moore (1873-1958), has had popular appeal because he claims that the "good" cannot be legitimately defined by conventional methods. Moore's mistake (or perhaps a deliberate logical legerdemain) is about the meaning of definitions, identities, and indefinable terms. Adler explains it in the following manner:

'The error revealed in Moore's discussion of attempts to define the good is the mistake that Moore himself makes in supposing that definitions are statements of identities. The argument by which Moore tried to show that the good is indefinable is itself based on a misunderstanding both of definitions and of indefinable terms.

It is necessary to correct this misunderstanding. To get this clear, let us begin by examining Moore's "open-question argument" in its own terms. The argument proceeds as follows:

Define the meaning of "good" by using the term "X" as the defining property, and let "X" stand either for something observable or something merely thinkable. The definition of good would then take the form "whatever is good is X". In Moore's view, it would also be true that whatever is X is good, because in his view of definition, the good and X are identical. The words "good" and "X" are strictly synonymous. But when we consider the proposition, "Whatever has the property X is good," we find we are still able to ask, "Is this particular instance of X really good?" Thus, according to Moore, the open-question argument shows that the good is indefinable.

Early philosophers knew on other and better grounds that the good is indefinable; they did not need this argument to discover it. They knew that not all terms can be defined, and that certain primitive terms transcend the categories which make definition possible. How, then, can we state their meanings? The ancient answer to this question is: in axioms of self-evident propositions that were called "common notions" because they do not belong to any particular discipline, propositions that Aristotle spoke of as correlating "commensurate universals" because their constituent terms are of equal scope as universal predicates. That is why they were once called propositions per se nota -- propositions known to be true through the understanding of their terms.

When Moore refers to analytic propositions, he does not have in mind what the philosophers prior to the seventeenth or eighteenth century would have called axioms or propositions per se nota, but only that conception of analytical or tautological propositions which he inherits from Locke and Kant. It is this sense of "analytic" that most twentieth-century philosophers employ when they regard self-evident or necessary truths as nothing but tautologies. That is clearly what Moore has in mind when he thinks that if there were a definition of good, it would produce an analytic proposition (in his view a statement of simple identity) that should preclude any further question.' [4]

Adler points out that if the meaning of "good" is understood in the Aristotelian sense as being an indefinable, commensurate universal term, Moore's argument that defining good is an open question turns out to be completely irrelevant.

A noted philosopher of our own times, A.J. Ayer (1910-1989), maintains that ethics is noncognitive, and uses what is called the correspondence theory of truth to show that, unlike a descriptive is-statement, a prescriptive ought-statement is neither true nor false, and thus meaningless. Adler responds, as follows:

'There is another critical point that tends to remove prescriptive judgments from the sphere of truth and put them in the realm of mere opinions that are neither true nor false. This point is made by A.J. Ayer, as well as others in his circle. It appeals to the correspondence theory of truth: We have a hold on truth when we assert that that which is, is, and that which is not, is not; and we suffer falsehood when we assert that that which is, is not, or when we assert that that which is not, is.

This correspondence theory of truth, of the agreement of the mind with reality, obviously applies only to descriptive statements -- statements that involve assertions about what is or is not. Just as obviously it does not apply to prescriptive statements. Ayer is justified in dismissing the prescriptive "ought" statement as neither true nor false if the only kind of truth consists in the agreement of the mind with reality, for there are no matters of fact or real existence with which a prescriptive judgment can agree.' [1]

'Aristotle also provides us with the refutation of Ayer's argument, by answering the question, "How can an ought-statement be true or false?" Aristotle explains the difference between the kind of truth that he calls practical (the kind that is attributable to ought statements) and the kind of truth he calls speculative or theoretical (the kind that is attributable to is-statements).' [5]

'In Chapter 4 of On Interpretation Aristotle proceeds, in terms of grammatical distinctions, to separate declarative sentences, which assert something, from other types of sentences, such as the interrogative, the subjunctive, and the imperative, which do not assert anything, but merely ask a question, express a wish, or give a command. He then says that only declarative sentences express propositions -- for only they make assertions, and nothing but an assertion can be either true or false. Every ought-statement can be expressed as a command, and a command does not assert anything, and so cannot be true or false. But, although all ought-statements can be expressed as commands, there are many commands that cannot be expressed as ought-statements. Ought-statements are grammatically of the same type as is-statements; they are declarative sentences and make assertions. In short, the declarative mode of sentence is equally available to express two logically different types of propositions, each equally assertive: the descriptive proposition, which asserts that something is the case, and the normative proposition, which asserts that something ought to be desired or done.' [5 - Note # 10].

'The truth of is-statements consists in an agreement or correspondence between what the statement asserts and the way things in fact are. The truth of ought-statements consists in an agreement of the statement "with right desire." Thus, an ought-judgment of the type "You ought to seek X" or "You ought to do Y" is true if it agrees with right desire, and false if it does not. In other words, in relation to ought-statements, conformity with right desire plays the same role that conformity with the facts, with the way things are, plays in relation to is-statements. The standard of right desire is set by one basic categorical ought: one ought to make a really good life for one's self by desiring each and every real good that is part of the totum bonum, and by seeking each in such order and proportion with respect to the others that all can be possessed to the fullest extent that each is really good; and one ought not to seek anything the possession of which would interfere with achieving a good life for one's self. This basic categorical ought concerning the ultimate end is the normative principle that governs the making of a good life and also sets the standard of right desire by reference to which all other normative propositions -- all of them conclusions about the means to a good life -- are to be judged true or false.' [5]

'The truth of the normative principle is not itself an instance of normative truth, but is rather the kind of truth called truth of understanding. It is the kind of truth that is possessed by any self-evident proposition, whether it be an is-statement such as "The whole is greater than its parts," or an ought-statement such as "One ought to make a really good life for one's self by seeking the totum bonum."

All normative propositions other than the one basic normative principle must have the twofold character of being (a) conclusions, and as such not self-evident, and (b) statements concerning the means to a good life -- the means that ought to be desired and employed in order to achieve the end that ought to be sought, the totum bonum. Other than the one normative principle, all normative propositions are either of the form "One ought to desire X," which is a normative conclusion about a constructive means to a good life, or they are of the form "One ought to do or have M," which is a normative conclusion about an instrumental means to the good life.

Although descriptive, empirical knowledge of matters of fact has entered into our reaching these conclusions, the conclusions themselves are normative propositions, and their truth is not descriptive, but normative truth. The conclusions are normatively true by conforming to the standard of right desire -- desire for the end, the totum bonum, that ought to be sought.

Normative conclusions are always drawn from mixed premises -- partly factual and partly normative. That is the only way they can be validly established. Though a normative conclusion would not be true if its factual premise were not true, it still remains the case that it has normative truth by virtue of conforming to the standard of right desire, not by virtue of the factual truth that underlies it.

Our knowledge of such matters of fact as are involved in reaching normative conclusions is empirical knowledge, subject to the same empirical tests by which any statement of fact can be falsified or have its degree of relative truth confirmed.' [5]

Immanuel Kant is the father of the school of moral philosophy which is based on reason. Kant and his followers are on the "good" side in the dispute about morals and ethics; but their absolutist view of moral standards lacks the human touch. Whereas Aristotelian ethics allow for the foibles of human nature and for exceptions to the general rule, Kantian ethics do not.

In Adler's view, one of Kant's failings is 'ignorance of the distinction between real and apparent goods, together with ignorance of the correlative distinction between natural and conscious desires. It is the source of the fundamental error made by Kant and Pritchard with regard to the primacy of the right over the good.' [5]

'Kant's solution of these problems is to make moral duty or obligation, expressed in prescriptive or "ought judgments," totally independent of our desires and totally devoid of any reference to matters of fact, especially the facts about human nature. His categorical imperative is a prescriptive statement that he regards as a moral law by which our reason must be bound because it is self-evidently true. In the first place, it is not self-evidently true. In the second place, it boils down to the golden rule which, however revered, is an empty recommendation. To say that one should do unto others what one wishes them to do unto oneself leaves totally unanswered the pivotal question: What ought one rightly to wish others to do unto one's self?

Kant's assertion that the only thing that is really good is a good will, a will that obeys the categorical imperative and discharges its moral obligation accordingly, flies in the face of the facts. To identify the good with a good will violates facts with which we are all acquainted, as much as to identify the good with sensuous pleasure.' [1]

Summary statements

Adler summarizes the main points in the great debate over morals and ethics:

‘The three main supports for the widely prevalent view, among philosophers as well as among people generally, that moral values and prescriptive judgments are entirely subjective and relative can be stated as follows:

One is Spinoza's identification of the good with that which the individual deems to be good, because the object deemed or called good is consciously desired by the individual. A second is Hume's criticism of arguing for a prescriptive conclusion on the basis solely of matters of fact or real existence. The third is the point made by the twentieth-century exponents of noncognitive ethics. If the only kind of truth is to be found in descriptive statements that conform to the way things really are, they are then correct in excluding prescriptive or "ought" statements from the realm of what is either true or false.

An error with regard to the relation between the good and the desirable is, in part, responsible for subjectivism and relativism. An error with regard to the relation between value judgments and judgments about matters of fact is also in part responsible for this. One other thing that is in part responsible is a failure to answer the question about how prescriptive judgments can be true.’ [1]

 

At the conclusion of Chapter 13 - Oughts can be true, in The Time of Our Lives, Adler makes a suggestion for improving the methods of how we look at and analyze the meaning of "truth", and he also recommends care in appraising the truth of normative conclusions.

'The twofold division of the modes of truth, which has reigned in modern philosophy since the days of Hume and Kant, must be replaced by the fourfold division that subdivides (I) a priori truth into (Ia) verbal truth and (Ib) truth of understanding; and (II) a posteriori truth into (IIa) descriptive and (IIb) normative truth.

The truth of normative conclusions depends, in the first place, on the truth of understanding that belongs to the basic normative principle about the ultimate end to be sought, and, in the second place, it depends on the empirical truth of a large number of descriptive propositions which relate to whether, as a matter of fact, something in question is or is not a means to the end. Hence the truth of normative conclusions is at best a relative degree of truth, lacking certitude. It is always the truth of doxa [opinion], never the truth of episteme [scientific knowledge].' [5]

Conclusion

This has been an effort, first and foremost, to clarify my own understanding of the foundations for the ethics of common sense which Aristotle discerned 2400 years ago. I imagine that Aristotle (like the noted Greek philosophers who preceded him) observed the characteristics and behavior of men and subjected his observations to a keen, rational analysis and drew some commonsensical conclusions regarding them.

I imagine that Aristotle had to shake his head in amazement at some of the foolish and evil things men did then, no less than we have to do so today. The nature of man has not changed that much in the last 2400 years. He still does foolish and evil things. More often than not, he still chases after the apparent good and over-looks the real good. And, more often than not, he ends this life bemoaning his unhappy state.

But even so, knowing that the real good always has been and always will be there for one to choose, and knowing that happiness can be had if one lives the good life, fills one's soul with a quiet joy and confidence.

References

[1] Ten Philosophical Mistakes; by Mortimer J. Adler (1985); Chapter 5

[2] Desires, Right & Wrong; by Mortimer J. Adler (1991); Chapter 5

[3] The Time Of Our Lives; by Mortimer J. Adler (1970); Chapter 9

[4] The Time Of Our Lives; Chapter 10;

[5] The Time Of Our Lives; Chapter 13;

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