MARTHA NUSSBAUM
Non-Relative Virtues
From: “Non-Relative Virtues: An Aristotelian Approach,” Midwest Studies in Philosophy 13 (1988) 32–39.
I. The virtues are attracting increasing interest in contemporary philosophical debate. From many different sides one hears of a dissatisfaction with ethical theories that are remote from concrete human experience. Whether this remoteness results from the utilitarian’s interest in arriving at a universal calculus of satisfactions or from a Kantian concern with universal principles of broad generality, in which the names of particular contexts, histories, and persons do not occur, remoteness is now being seen by an increasing number of moral philosophers as a defect in an approach to ethical questions. In the search for an alternative approach, the concept of virtue is playing a prominent role. So, too, is the work of Aristotle, the greatest defender of an ethical approach based on the concept of virtue. For Aristotle’s work seems, appealingly, to combine rigor with concreteness, theoretical power with sensitivity to the actual circumstances of human life and choice in all their multiplicity, variety, and mutability. But on one central point there is a striking divergence between Aristotle and contemporary virtue theory. To many current defenders of an ethical approach based on the virtues, the return to the virtues is connected with a turn toward relativism- toward, that is, the view that the only appropriate criteria of ethical goodness are local ones, internal to the traditions and practices of each local society or group that asks itself questions about the good. The rejection of general algorithms and abstract rules in favour of an account of the good life based on specific modes of virtuous action is taken, by writers as otherwise diverse as Alasdair Macintyre, Bernard Williams, and Philippa Foot, to be connected with the abandonment of the project of rationally justifying a single norm of flourishing life for and to all human beings and with a reliance, instead, on norms that are local both in origin and in application.
The positions of all of these writers, where relativism is concerned, are complex; none unequivocally endorses a relativist view. But all connect virtue ethics with a relativist denial that ethical, correctly under-stood, offers any trans- cultural norms, justifiable with reference to reasons of universal human validity, with reference to which we may appropriately criticize different local conceptions of the good. And all suggest that the insights we gain by pursuing ethical questions in the Aristotelian virtue- based way lend support to relativism.
For this reason it is easy for those who are interested in supporting the rational criticism of local traditions and in articulating an idea of ethical progress to feel that the ethics of virtue can give them little help. If the position of women, as established by local traditions in many parts of the world, is to be improved, if traditions of slave holding and racial inequality, if religious intolerance, if aggressive and warlike conceptions of manliness, if unequal norms of material distribution are to be criticized in the name of practical reason, this criticizing (one might easily suppose) will have to be done from a Kantian or utilitarian viewpoint, not through the Aristotelian approach.
This is an odd result, where Aristotle is concerned. For it is obvious that he was not only the defender of an ethical theory based on the virtues, but also the de-fender of a single objective account of the human good, or human flourishing. This account is supposed to be objective in the sense that it is justifiable with reference to reasons that do not derive merely from local traditions and practices, but rather from features of human-ness that lie beneath all local traditions and are there to be seen whether or not they are in fact recognized in local traditions. And one of Aristotle’s most obvious concerns is the criticism of existing moral traditions, in his own city and in others, as unjust or repressive, or in other ways incompatible with human flourishing. He uses his account of the virtues as a basis for this criticism of local traditions: prominently, for example, in Book II of the Politics, where he frequently argues against existing social forms by pointing to ways in which they neglect or hinder the development of some important human virtue. Aristotle evidently believes that there is no incompatibility between basing an ethical theory on the virtues and defending the singleness and objectivity of the human good. Indeed, he seems to believe that these two aims are mutually supportive.
Now the fact that Aristotle believes something does not make it true. (Though I have sometimes been accused of holding that position!) But it does, on the whole, make that something a plausible candidate for the truth, one deserving our most serious scrutiny. In this case, it would be odd indeed if he had connected two elements in ethical thought that are self- evidently incompatible, or in favour of whose connectedness and compatibility there is nothing interesting to be said. The purpose of this paper is to establish that Aristotle does indeed have an interesting way of connecting the virtues with a search for ethical objectivity and with the criticism of existing local norms, a way that deserves our serious consideration as we work on these questions. Having described the general shape of the Aristotelian approach, we can then begin to understand some of the objections that might be brought against such a non- relative account of the virtues, and to imagine how the Aristotelian could respond to those objections.
II. The relativist, looking at different societies, is impressed by the variety and the apparent non- comparability in the lists of virtues she encounters. Examining the different lists, and observing the complex connections between each list and a concrete form of life and a concrete history, she may well feel that any list of virtues must be simply a reflection of local traditions and values, and that, virtues being (unlike Kantian principles or utilitarian algorithms) concrete and closely tied to forms of life, there can in fact be no list of virtues that will serve as normative for all these varied societies. It is not only that the specific forms of behaviour recommended in connection with the virtues differ greatly over time and place, it is also that the very areas that are singled out as spheres of virtue, and the manner in which they are individuated from other areas, vary so greatly. For someone who thinks this way, it is easy to feel that Aristotle’s own list, despite its pretensions to universality and objectivity, must be similarly restricted, merely a reflection of one particular society’s perceptions of salience and ways of distinguishing. At this point, relativist writers are likely to quote Aristotle’s description of the “great- souled” per-son, which certainly contains many concrete local features and sounds very much like the portrait of a certain sort of Greek gentleman, in order to show that Aristotle’s list is just as culture-bound as any other. But if we probe further into the way in which Aristotle in fact enumerates and individuates the virtues, we begin to notice things that cast doubt upon the suggestion that he has simply described what is admired in his own society. First of all, we notice that a rather large number of virtues and vices ( vices especially) are nameless, and that, among the ones that are not name-less, a good many are given, by Aristotle's own account, names that are somewhat arbitrarily chosen by Aristotle, and do not perfectly fit the behaviour he is trying to described. Of such modes of conduct he writes, “Most of these are nameless, but we must try . . . to give them names in order to make our account clear and easy to follow” (NE 1108a16– 19). This does not sound like the procedure of someone who is simply studying local traditions and singling out the virtue names that figure most prominently in those traditions. What is going on becomes clearer when we examine the way in which he does, in fact, introduce his list. For he does so, in the Nicomachean Ethics, by a device whose very straightforwardness and simplicity has caused it to escape the notice of most writers on this topic. What he does, in each case, is to isolate a sphere of human experience that figures in more or less any human life, and in which more or less any human being will have to make some choices rather than others, and act in some way rather than some other. The introductory chapter enumerating the virtues and vices begins from an enumeration of these spheres (NE 2.7); and each chapter on a virtue in the more detailed account that follows begins with “Concerning X . . .” or words to this effect, where “X” names a sphere of life with which all human beings regularly and more or less necessarily have dealings. Aristotle then asks: What is it to choose and respond well within that sphere? What is it, on the other hand, to choose defectively? The “thin account” of each virtue is that it is whatever it is to be stably disposed to act appropriately in that sphere. There may be, and usually are, various competing specifications of what acting well, in each case, in fact comes to. Aristotle goes on to defend in each case some concrete specification, producing, at the end, a full or “thick” definition of the virtue. Here are the most important spheres of experience recognized by Aristotle, along with the names of their corresponding virtues:
1. Fear of important damages, esp. death courage
2. Bodily appetites and their pleasures moderation
3. Distribution of limited resources justice
4. Management of one’s personal property, where others are concerned generosity
5. Management of personal property, where expansive hospitality is concerned hospitality
6. Attitudes and actions with respect to one’s own worth greatness of soul
7. Attitude to slights and damages mildness of temper
8. “Association and living together and the fellowship of words and actions”
a. truthfulness in speech truthfulness
b. social association of a playful kind easy grace (contrasted with coarseness, rudeness, insensitivity)
c. social association more generally nameless, but a kind of friendliness (contrasted with irritability and grumpiness)
9. Attitude to the good and ill fortune of others proper judgment (contrasted with enviousness, spitefulness, etc.)
10. Intellectual life the various intellectual virtues ( such as perceptiveness, knowledge, etc.)
11. The planning of one’s life and conduct practical wisdom
There is, of course, much more to be said about this list, its specific members, and the names Aristotle chooses for the virtue in each case, some of which are indeed culture bound. What I want, however, to insist on here is the care with which Aristotle articulates his general approach, beginning from a characterization of a sphere of universal experience and choice, and introducing the virtue name as the name ( as yet undefined) of whatever it is to choose appropriately in that area of experience. On this approach, it does not seem possible to say, as the relativist wishes to, that a given society does not contain anything that corresponds to a given virtue. Nor does it seem to be an open question, in the case of a particular agent, whether a certain virtue should or should not be included in his or her life-except in the sense that she can always choose to pursue the corresponding deficiency instead. The point is that everyone makes some choices and acts somehow or other in these spheres: if not properly, then improperly. Everyone has some attitude and behaviour toward her own death; toward her bodily appetites and their management; toward her property and its use; toward the distribution of social goods; toward telling the truth; toward being kindly or not kindly to others; to-ward cultivating or not cultivating a sense of play and delight; and so on. No matter where one lives one can-not escape these questions, so long as one is living a human life. But then this means that one’s behaviour falls, willy nilly, within the sphere of the Aristotelian virtue, in each case. If it is not appropriate, it is inappropriate; it cannot be off the map altogether. People will of course disagree about what the appropriate ways of acting and reacting in fact are. But in that case, as Aristotle has set things up, they are arguing about the same thing, and advancing competing specifications of the same virtue. The reference of the virtue term in each case is fixed by the sphere of experience— by what we shall from now on call the “grounding experiences.” The thin or “ nominal definition” of the virtue will be, in each case, that it is whatever it is that being disposed to choose and respond well consists in, in that sphere. The job of ethical theory will be to search for the best further specification corresponding to this nominal definition, and to produce a full definition.
III. We have begun to introduce considerations from the philosophy of language. We can now make the direction of the Aristotelian account clearer by considering his own account of linguistic indicating ( referring) and defining, which guides his treatment of both scientific and ethical terms, and of the idea of progress in both areas.
Aristotle’s general picture is as follows. We begin with some experiences— not necessarily our own, but those of members of our linguistic community, broadly construed. On the basis of these experiences, a word enters the language of the group, indicating (referring to) whatever it is that is the content of those experiences. Aristotle gives the example of thunder. People hear a noise in the clouds, and they then refer to it, using the word “thunder.” At this point, it may be that nobody has any concrete account of the noise or any idea about what it really is. But the experience fixes a subject for further inquiry. From now on, we can refer to thunder, ask “What is thunder?” and advance and assess competing theories. The thin or, we might say, “nominal definition” of thunder is “That noise in the clouds, whatever it is.” The competing explanatory theories are rival candidates for correct full or thick definition. So the explanatory story citing Zeus’ activities in the clouds is a false account of the very same thing of which the best scientific explanation is a true account. There is just one debate here, with a single subject.
So too, Aristotle suggests, with our ethical terms. Heraclitus, long before him, already had the essential idea, saying, “They would not have known the name of justice, if these things did not take place.” “ These things,” our source for the fragment informs us, are experiences of injustice- presumably of harm, deprivation, unequal courage was a matter of waving swords around; now they have ( the Ethics informs us) a more inward and a more civic and communally attuned understanding of proper behaviour toward the possibility of death. Women used to be regarded as property, bought and sold; now this would be thought barbaric. And in the case of justice as well we have, the Politics passage claims, advanced toward a more adequate understanding of what is fair and appropriate. Aristotle gives the example of an existing homicide law that convicts the defendant automatically on the evidence of the prosecutor's relatives (whether they actually witnessed any-thing or not, apparently). This, Aristotle says, is clearly a stupid and unjust law; and yet it once seemed appropriate- and, to a tradition- bound community, must still be so. To hold tradition fixed is then to prevent ethical progress. What human beings want and seek is not conformity with the past, it is the good. So our systems of law should make it possible for them to progress beyond the past, when they have agreed that a change is good. (They should not, however, make change too easy, since it is no easy matter to see one’s way to the good, and tradition is frequently a sounder guide than current fashion.)
In keeping with these ideas, the Politics as a whole presents the beliefs of the many different societies it investigates not as unrelated local norms, but as competing answers to questions of justice and courage (and so on) with which all the societies (being human) are concerned, and in response to which they are all trying to find what is good. Aristotle’s analysis of the virtues gives him an appropriate framework for these comparisons, which seem perfectly appropriate inquiries into the ways in which different societies have solved common human problems.
In the Aristotelian approach it is obviously of the first importance to distinguish two stages of the inquiry: the initial demarcation of the sphere of choice, of the “grounding experiences” that fix the reference of the virtue term; and the ensuing more concrete inquiry into what appropriate choice, in that sphere, is. Aristotle does not always do this carefully, and the language he has to work with is often not helpful to him. We do not have much difficulty with terms like “moderation” and “justice” and even “courage,” which seem vaguely normative but relatively empty, so far, of concrete moral content. As the approach requires, they can serve as extension- fixing labels under which many competing specifications may be investigated. But we have already noticed the problem with “mildness of temper,” which seems to rule out by fiat a prominent contender for the appropriate disposition concerning anger. And much the same thing certainly seems to be true of the relativists’ favourite target, megalopsuchia, which implies in its very name an attitude to one’s own worth that is more Greek than universal. (For example, a Christian will feel that the proper attitude to one’s own worth requires under-standing one’s lowness, frailty, and sinfulness. The virtue of humility requires considering oneself small, not great.) What we ought to get at this point in the inquiry is a word for the proper behaviour toward anger and offense and a word for the proper behaviour toward one’s worth that are more truly neutral among the competing specifications, referring only to the sphere of experience within which we wish to determine what is appropriate. Then we could regard the competing conceptions as rival accounts of one and the same thing, so that, for example, Christian humility would be a rival specification of the same virtue whose Greek specification is given in Aristotle’s account of megalopsuchia, namely, the proper way to behave toward the question of one’s own worth.
And in fact, oddly enough, if one examines the evolution in the use of this word from Aristotle through the Stoics to the Christian fathers, one can see that this is more or less what happened, as “greatness of soul” became associated, first, with Stoic emphasis on the supremacy of virtue and the worthlessness of externals, including the body, and, through this, with the Christian denial of the body and of the worth of earthly life. So even in this apparently unpromising case, his-tory shows that the Aristotelian approach not only provided the materials for a single debate but actually succeeded in organizing such a debate, across enormous differences of both place and time.
Here, then, is a sketch for an objective human morality based upon the idea of virtuous action -- that is, of appropriate functioning in each human sphere. The Aristotelian claim is that, further developed, it will retain virtue morality's immersed attention to actual human experiences, while gaining the ability to criticize local and traditional moralities in the name of a more inclusive account of the circumstances of human life, and of the needs for human functioning that these circumstances call forth.