A Question of Free Will

What should we do the morning after the day when a metaphysician finally proves that free will cannot exist given causal determinism?

A question I had after stumbling across this interesting and new (to me) philosophy web site. Basically, the site collects video lectures from newly-minted Ph.D.'s on (presumably) their area of specialty. I watched a lecture on free will this evening- unfortunately, the video cuts out before the end of the lecture, but you get a flavor for some of it.

Religious Intent and Public Law

Some back-and-forth on the topic of my last post can be found here. There, on one loose description of what is going on, Russell Blackford and I may or may not disagree about the proper liberal response to Stanley Fish's view that religious reasons (and concomitant hopes and intents) ought to influence public debates. I have more or less taken on the unenviable task of defending what I take to be Fish's conclusion-- unenviable because, even on my charitable interpretation, Fish himself only gets the right conclusion for the wrong reason.

Should Religion be Banned from Debate over Public Laws?

Stanley Fish (or, as I sometimes refer to him, the man with my Times column)* thinks that we should allow explicit appeals to religious values in public debates, such as debates over whether to enact a law or pursue a policy. In other words, Fish does not think that there is anything wrong with explicitly appealing to religious values as reasons to enact a law or pursue a policy. Against Fish stands the accusation that he would legitimate state-imposed religion. The counter-Fish thought is that sanctioning the injection of religious values into the public sphere either just is state-imposed religion or else the very slippery slope thereto.

Here, despite myself, I agree with Fish, although maybe not for the reason he seems to give. Debate should be unconstrained, not because religious values are presumptively the equal of every other kind of value (maybe they aren't), but simply because it is better to have everything out in the open. It is always better if participants in a debate don't sublimate their real values or concerns; only by being open can debate-participants know where they stand in relation to each other and have a chance at addressing each others' concerns in a real way.

I also agree, incidentally, with Fish's critics insofar as I agree that state-imposed religion is worth avoiding. In line with the critic above, I would justly feel myself to be a victim of a sort of tyranny if the law required me to practice a religion or observe edicts which could only be understood as religious.

In case it's not obvious, the two positions here are eminently reconcilable. Only distinguish between a) any citizen or legislator's particular reason for supporting this or that law, and b) the content of that law itself. Let any citizen or legislator have any reason they like for supporting or opposing a law; only don't let the law itself impose religion on me. If my representative wants to outlaw murder because he thinks that God commands it, I will not feel myself to be oppressed by the ensuing law, because I don't think that such a law, as the law it is, amounts to an imposition of religion.

Obviously, there is an interesting question concerning just what makes a law an imposition of religion or not--why would some laws have that character while others would lack it (especially where the law allows of both secular and religious motivating reasons for enactment)? But we do clearly have some rough idea of this distinction, and it has nothing necessarily to do with the motivations of the legislators who enacted the law. A law requiring church attendance would be an imposition of religion even if the legislator's goal was simply to force people to avoid Sunday morning sloth.

(As an aside to legal readers- incidentally- understanding this distinction between intent and content illuminates our understanding of some legal rules. Particularly, rules of Constitutional review which determine a law's legitimacy by assessing legislators's intentions should be seen as using intentions merely as evidence indicating the likelihood that the law itself has a particular character. The intention does not constitute the law as having any character at all; but it may be evidence of that character. This also suggests that it should be possible in principle for a case to hold that a legislature's intentions, however objectionable, are not dispositive of the character of the law.) (For example, consider rules governing cases under the Religion Clauses of the First Amendment, or Dormant Commerce Clause cases. In such cases, legislators's intentions can be dispositive, as, for example, if there was hostility (in the one case) or protectionist impulse (in the other).)

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* - I say this because, on some topics, I have clearly better opinions than Fish; and, on the rest, I'm pretty sure I've never had a worse opinion. Moreover, Fish has a general unfortunate postmodern bent; I lack any such defect. So, clearly, I'm a better candidate for that column than Fish. And anything you're tempted to say here about serious academic achievement and reputation is frankly besides the point- I'll frankly admit that Fish has got it and I don't. The criterion of a good opinion columnist isn't that the columnist has got credentials, but that he's got good opinions--obviously, a point where I shine.

A mild bugaboo-

Am I the only person to notice that Nationwide's new "best spokesperson in the world" television commercial generally misses the ordinary business distinction between 'spokesperson' and 'salesperson'? The guy in the commercial is in sales, not media relations.

Call it a small bugaboo.

Is there possibly a moral case for imperialism?

In the wake of the Haitian earthquake, David Brooks penned a column assessing Haitian poverty and the general failure of foreign aid to mitigate that poverty. Brooks offers a fair amount of reason for general pessimism, but he does attempt to be constructive and prescriptive in the end. Here, one particular suggestion caught my attention:

[I]t’s time to promote locally led paternalism. In this country, we first tried to tackle poverty by throwing money at it, just as we did abroad. Then we tried microcommunity efforts, just as we did abroad. But the programs that really work involve intrusive paternalism.

These programs, like the Harlem Children’s Zone and the No Excuses schools, are led by people who figure they don’t understand all the factors that have contributed to poverty, but they don’t care. They are going to replace parts of the local culture with a highly demanding, highly intensive culture of achievement — involving everything from new child-rearing practices to stricter schools to better job performance.

What interests me about this is that it is basically an open argument for a kind of imperialism. Brooks unapologetically seeks to impose a view of the good on Haitians who, left to determine their own fate, presumably would not embrace the Brooks's recommendations if left to their own devices. ("Presumably" on Brooks's view.) In fact, Brooks himself pretty much recognizes this point, because he uses the word "paternalism" to describe his recommendations. It's a word worth brief reflection; it views the Haitians as wards incapable of mature self-determination, and those running the Brooks-recommended programs as akin to parents. And, of course, parents generally may impose their (just) rules on their children regardless of what their children think.

What's so interesting, you say, about arguing for imperialism of this sort? Well, for one thing, I had sometimes thought that imperialism and paternalism were presumptively disreputable, both as policy recommendations and as the things they are intrinsically. So, first, it was surprising to find such a recommendation made with a straight face in the Times, even if made by the resident conservative opinion columnist. Secondly, even more suprising and interesting from my perspective is that I'm not sure that Brooks's prescription is necessarily wrong qua applied ethical theorizing.

On this last point: leave aside the issues of fact--about which I'm no expert--and assume for the sake of argument that Haiti is as Brooks describes: culturally backward and incapable at the present moment of solving its own pressing problems, or of meeting its own needs (social, economic, governmental, and whatever else). Now, if that were the case, and if some particular paternalistic program of intervention could mitigate this circumstance, doesn't that provide a fairly strong reason to actually do that intervention? And, potentially, to do it imperialistically--i.e., regardless of Haitian resistance?

Let's tighten the hypo a little further: suppose that some particular paternalistic program of imperialistic intervention was, practically speaking, the only way to improve a backward nation. (Liberia as a candidate?) Would an intervention then necessarily violate the rights of that nation, or its people, in the event that they objected? Here, I confess to conflicting intuitions. But it is an interesting question.

Transcultural Moral Judgment

It may be that you suffer from a common and unfortunate aversion to transcultural ethical judging-- that is, to ethically judging or appraising aspects of (foreign?) culture as such. Maybe you think that ethical appraisals of culture can't make sense because you think (as a matter of theory) that ethical judgment is itself necessarily bound up with culture; or maybe the point is not your theoretical commitments, but simply your fear that this sort of judging will necessarily be insensitive to the legitimate concerns and perspectives of other cultures. On this view, avoiding transcultural moral evaluation is key to avoiding a sort of hegemonic ethnocentrism.

Of course, you can tell that I think that this position is mistaken, and that there are no good reasons to be either agnostic or skeptical with regard to transcultural moral judgment. Generally, I think people ought to take their own ethical judgments seriously, even when the object of such judgment is their own or another culture, or aspects thereof; the problem with ethical skepticism or agnosticim (of whatever kind) is that it fails to seriously and soberly regard our own ethical judgment, or seriously enough.

Rather than preach myself, though, I instead mean to recommend what I consider to be a classic essay on this topic, an essay which should provide the therapy (and arguments) needed- Trying Out One's New Sword by Mary Midgley. So click!- and read! and take courage!

An open letter, and a bit on criminal defense ethics

Dear Blog,

I know I've been neglectful, and I know you've taken it kind of hard. But please understand that I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just that I've been caught in the maw of the Law School Beast, studying and studying with nary a day off. And then, of course, there was the Great Break In, a little occurrence which saw my apartment burgled, and then a subsequent hunt and move to a replacement apartment, with all of the headache that entails. (Fortunately, there were friends to help; and you really should have seen the Great Couch Episode--but that is fodder for another time.) And then there's always more or less focused Job Hunting. (Mostly less, but hey, it's early, and, anyways, a career as a hobo could be manageable, even if it involved learning to play guitar and drink corn liquor.)

All of this to say: it's not you, and it's not me; it's just the circumstance. You know I still love you, and I know you still love me. If we're apart now, it won't be for long.

And, to tide you over until I can post something proper, there is this little blurb, a hasty comment on a law blog about the ethics of criminal defense.

Yours,
Michael