Part A: 1. What is the distinctive feature of the form of consequentialism defended by Peter Railton? What is the main objection to that form of consequentialism and how would Railton best respond to this objection?
- Richard Chappell
Traditional utilitarian theories focused on the deontic categories of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. Railton suggests a rethinking of this approach, to keep consequentialist evaluation -- the categories of ‘better’ and ‘worse’, or what is more or less ‘morally fortunate’ -- at centre-stage. Rather than beginning with a theory of right action, Railton’s valoric utilitarianism primarily concerns itself with direct evaluations of the degree to which any target of assessment promotes the non-moral good, impartially considered. To explicate: it is like traditional forms of utilitarianism in concerning itself with the impartial promotion of the non-moral good. It is like act utilitarianism, and unlike variants such as rule utilitarianism, insofar as it assesses the target directly for its consequences. But it differs in yielding evaluative rather than deontic judgments. As such, it is fully general: able to take more than just acts as its target of moral assessment, but also rules, motivations, institutions, etc., whether they be taken as types or tokens. And the output is no mere binary distinction (right/wrong, obligatory/impermissible), but a fine-grained measure of moral fortunateness, which properly distinguishes between the barely sub-optimal and the thoroughly atrocious.
This approach seeks to capture what Railton calls “the guiding utilitarian idea” that what fundamentally matters is the impartial promotion of the non-moral good. Considered in this light, the binaries and sharp lines drawn by deontic theories appear ad hoc and misguided, imputing great significance to intrinsically minor differences. Valoric evaluation seems better suited to playing the fundamental role in a consequentialist theory, sensitive as it is to the varying shades of gray.
We need not do away altogether with the deontic categories, though. Railton suggests that they play an important role in our moral practice -- guiding us and regulating our reactive attitudes, blame, etc. -- it is just that they are not theoretically fundamental. So the valoric consequentialist is free to construct his theory of right action in a much more “indirect and intricate” manner than is typically found in purely deontic forms of consequentialism (which, due to their limited scope, lose any claim to the guiding utilitarian idea if they do not stick to it here). Railton suggests the theoretically satisfying option of deriving an account of rightness from whatever “normative practices--comprising rules, motivations, dispositions, etc.--that would be fortunate.” One might alternatively seek to cater more explicitly to ‘common sense’ and existing moral practice, but at the risk of diluting the normative significance of the resulting deontic judgments. So I will stick to Railton’s suggestion, above, on the grounds that the most morally fortunate practical morality (as we might call it) presumably has some normative significance for how we should live our lives.
Or does it? These indirect recommendations may, after all, come into conflict with direct assessments of moral fortunateness. This leads to the main objection to valoric consequentialism: what are we to do when faced with a conflict between that which is morally right (or recommended by the most fortunate moral practices) and that which is morally fortunate (or utility-maximizing) in itself? Which mode of evaluation trumps? Which of these purported sources of moral reasons has the strongest claim on us -- what is it that we really ought, all things considered, to do?
Railton begs off answering this question: “it is the office of practical reason to answer questions about the place of morally fortunate--or morally right--action in a rational life.” But this is less than wholly satisfying. Setting aside the other domains and demands of a rational life, we might expect that our moral theory should at least have something to say about what reasons have a claim on us considered purely from the moral perspective.
A better response, I think, would hark back to the “guiding utilitarian idea” that good consequences are what fundamentally matters. I take this to suggest that the objective ‘ought’ tracks moral fortunateness. If someone wants to know what they have most moral reason to do, the answer is simply whatever would in fact best realize the non-moral good. But it is important to see that this need not trivialize the moral significance of obligation and impermissibility. After all, we are typically not in a position to know what would in fact best realize the non-moral good. So it cannot just be assumed that we should allow ourselves to be guided exclusively by our estimates of what really ought (in the above sense) to be done. So far, we have merely addressed the question of how we should act, not how we should go about deciding how to act. Indeed, the valoric consequentialist will give an entirely different answer to the latter question: we ought to decide by employing whatever decision-procedure would prove most morally fortunate.
At this point, one might be tempted to object that we have been given inconsistent aims. (Suppose that the most morally fortunate decision procedure would have us decide to do A, whereas B is the more morally fortunate act.) But this is to miss the vital point: we have not yet been given any aims at all. The objection assumes that we must aim to do what we ought, but such an assumption fits ill with the guiding utilitarian idea that all moral “musts” are ultimately to be traced back to considerations of utility. Thus valoric consequentialism provides an alternative formula to determine what aims we ought to have, and by now its structure will be familiar: we ought to have whatever aims would be most morally fortunate!
Note that the various ought-claims made so far are perfectly consistent with one another. Our initial suspicions to the contrary derive from the illicit assumption of principles of normative transmission, e.g. that good motives imply the goodness of acts done from those motives. But it is clear that the optimal motives may sometimes lead one to perform sub-optimal acts. So it should come as no surprise that such transmission principles will not work for a fundamentally evaluative theory like valoric consequentialism. The actions we have most reason to perform are not necessarily those that are recommended by the rules we have most reason to be guided by, and nor will they necessarily stem from the character traits that we have most reason to inculcate. We should not expect these separate domains to always converge and support each other. But by consistently affirming whatever is for the best, valoric consequentialism runs no risk of inconsistency. (There are no contradictions to be found in the facts about what would best promote the good.) There would be such a risk if the theory were interpreted as a form of ‘subjective consequentialism’, where all its verdicts are taken to have further implications for what we should try to do. But that would be to misinterpret the theory. Again, it offers but a singular, self-consistent answer to the question of what aims we should have, namely, the most morally fortunate aims (whatever they turn out to be). Sure, it offers a different answer to the question of what we objectively ought to do, but that’s a different question; it doesn’t entail any recommendation that we try to do this or even subjectively acknowledge it at all. Whether we should or not depends, of course, on the consequences!
Compare: the ‘sophisticated’ consequentialist will try to bring it about that he leads an objectively utility-maximizing life, which will often involve adopting personal projects as ends, and so acting from motives other than that of promoting the impartial good. He may endorse his resulting partial and suboptimal actions on the grounds that more good is ultimately produced this way than if he were to try directly to maximize the good. He is not fixated on always trying to do the most morally fortunate thing, because he knows that this would be self-defeating. Instead, he tries to shape his life and character in ways that will prove morally fortunate overall.
This helpful example gives us some grasp of the ‘objective’ nature of consequentialism’s demands, but in fact valoric consequentialism goes even further. It is an open question whether we should try to promote the good even in such an indirect manner as the ‘sophisticated’ actor does. Maybe the most morally fortunate thing would be for us all to be committed Kantians, or unrepentant amoralists. Valoric consequentialism tells us that this is an empirical question, to be settled by the objective facts about what moral beliefs have the greatest tendency to produce good outcomes.
We can now see that valoric consequentialism is not straightforwardly action-guiding in the way that moral theories are often expected to be. This explains why the ‘main objection’ gets such a grip on us, despite proving ultimately toothless. As far as the objective ‘ought’ or what fundamentally matters is concerned, valoric utilitarianism privileges assessments of moral fortunateness as a matter of principle. (Though it need not privilege any particular target of assessment: acts, rules, etc.) So we have most objective reason to do what is objectively best. But, crucially, this verdict should not be taken as a guide to action. Rather, the theory tells us that we should heed whatever guidance would be most morally fortunate. We should embed ourselves in morally fortunate normative practices, which need not be utilitarian at all. It is here that the derivative deontic concepts of ‘rightness’, ‘obligation’, etc., come into play. It remains an empirical question what subjective guidance we ought to follow. But it is plausible that these deontic categories will have an important role to play in practice.