| Posted per request... my great beast of a philosophy paper. There are footnotes.  Have fun!
********************************************************************** Immanuel Kant’s moral philosophy places the highest importance on motivation. It is so important, in fact, that two seemingly identical actions could have totally different levels of moral worth depending on the incentive according to which they were chosen. For Kant, morality is not as concerned with particular, temporal actions as it is with a person’s fundamental disposition toward the moral law. The morally good person acts from duty—respect for the moral law—whereas the morally evil person acts primarily from self-love. He might still act in accordance with duty, but only because it happens to coincide with his self-interest. Kant explains this further in Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason, Hence the difference, whether the human being is good or evil, must not lie in the difference between the incentives that he incorporates into his maxim (not in the material of the maxim) but in their subordination (in the form of the maxim): which of the two he makes the condition of the other. It follows that the human being (even the best) is evil only because he reverses the moral order of his incentives in incorporating them into his maxims. He indeed incorporates the moral law into those maxims, together with the law of self-love; since, however, he realizes that the two cannot stand on an equal footing, but one must be subordinated to the other as its supreme condition, he makes the incentives of self-love and their inclinations the condition of compliance with the moral law—whereas it is this latter that, as the supreme condition of the satisfaction of the former, should have been incorporated into the universal maxim of the power of choice as the sole incentive (Kant 59). On a first reading of the passage cited above, one might get the impression that self-love and respect for the moral law are mutually exclusive incentives, and that respect for the moral law is good and self-love is evil. However, Kant does not view it in quite this way. Self-love does not have to be subordinated to the moral law because it is inherently evil, but rather because the moral law alone is unconditionally good. Self-love (the simple desire to live or to be happy) is a natural and inevitable part of being human, and as such is good, or at least morally neutral. But self-love is only conditionally good, and so moral evil results when one seeks to satisfy it without proper regard for the unconditionally good moral law. This choice of which incentive will be the “supreme condition” of the other is the basis of a person’s moral character, and imbues particular, temporal actions with their moral quality. This fundamental disposition is not the result of phenomenal actions or choices about morality, but is established noumenally—outside of the determined world of time and space. This, as can be imagined, creates some difficult philosophical puzzles, but a further understanding and development of Kant’s idea of respect for the moral law can help to provide a solution which both solves the problems arising from the divide between noumena and phenomena and gives an answer to the question of why someone would choose to follow the moral law in the first place. But first we must see why Kant believes our fundamental moral choice must be noumenal and why this position might be philosophically troublesome. One of the main reasons for positing a noumenal moral choice is Kant’s conviction that freedom cannot exist in the phenomenal realm. He writes, To look for the temporal origin of free actions as free (as though they were natural effects) is therefore a contradiction; and hence also a contradiction to look for the temporal origin of the moral constitution of the human being, so far as this constitution is considered as contingent, for constitution here means the ground of the exercise of freedom which…must be sought in the representations of reason alone (Religion 62). For Kant the phenomenal realm is determined by necessary laws of cause and effect, and so it is absurd to seek for the temporal origin of a free action. If an action is free (and all moral actions must be), then it must be somehow outside of the determined order of time. Furthermore, a person can only become autonomous if she follows the purely rational, formal law. If she is acting from other phenomenal considerations then she has chosen to be ruled by something other than herself instead of following the moral law within her. If this heteronomy exists, then her actions are more or less determined by her circumstances. These determined actions may themselves be contrary to the moral law, but the more serious moral problem is that she chose to let this heteronomy to develop in the first place. In any case, it is absurd to search for the origin of moral good or evil in a person in determined or heteronomous actions. Autonomy, heteronomy, and all phenomenal actions have their origin in the fundamental noumenal choice to follow either self-love or duty. So far, the idea that one’s all-important fundamental moral disposition is noumenal rather than phenomenal seems to fit well with Kant’s overall ethical project. In “Kant’s Ethics in a Phenomenological Perspective,” John Caputo argues that Kant’s insistence that freedom must be pure and noumenal replaces humans with a more-than-human pure reason. He writes that Kant ought to resist the “transcendental illusion of pure practical reason. Morality must b confined to the world and time in an immanent ethics, an ethics based upon man and world” (Caputo 146). Failure to do this results in a radically divided conception of the self and several problems. On Caputo’s account, the biggest problem that arises from Kant’s theory of pure noumenal freedom is that it renders moral conflict impossible. Pure practical reason, is not subject to or influenced by empirical data—it is not concerned with the content of maxims but only the form. Self-love is almost entirely concerned with subjectively satisfying content, not a formalist, purely rational moral law. If this is the case, then the incentives of pure practical reason and the incentives of self-love really have no point of contact. A pure, free decision to abide by the categorical imperative makes no reference to the empirical content which is supposedly the source of temptation, and so it should not be affected by it. This lack of contact seems to render conflict impossible, since “conflict, like friendship, must be between equals” (Caputo 138). But, according to Caputo, if one strictly adheres to Kant’s division of noumena and phenomena this equality or contact cannot be theoretically maintained. One might answer that a solution to this problem can be found in the passage cited in the beginning of this paper. A person must noumenally decide whether she will make the incentive of moral law or of self-love her chief maxim. If she chooses self-love, she relinquishes her autonomy and is ruled by the law of others and her own desire for physical and intellectual pleasures. This, however, does not mean that she has forgotten the moral law entirely. Both incentives will always be present, but one will be stronger than the other. If she has chosen self-love but still has a relatively strong feeling of the importance of the moral law, the primacy of self-love will leave her vulnerable to phenomenal temptations and the presence of true moral feeling will leave her conflicted about her phenomenal actions and choices. In his introduction to Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason, Robert Merrihew Adams takes a similar line of argument. He claims that Kant accounts for the phenomena of moral conflict and progress by positing the simultaneous existence of good and evil in both the phenomenal and noumenal realms. In Caputo’s reading the noumenal disposition is either simply good or simply evil. When Kant uses temporal language in his description of noumenal revolution and conflict, Adams takes it to “refer to a timeless condition of the self as it is in itself, in which both a good disposition and a morally defective disposition are present…each moment of one’s temporal existence is grounded in both timeless dispositions” (Adams xx). On Adams’ view, both good and evil are noumenally present, and one is stronger than the other. Even though one is actually stronger, a person will sometimes act from one principle and sometimes from the other. Adams’ recognition of the fact that conflict can only occur between equals does not cause him to abandon Kant’s noumenon/phenomenon division, but rather to propose that conflict occurs on a noumenal level. This seems to be a satisfactory Kantian solution. It is, unfortunately, somewhat inconsistent with certain other elements of Kant’s thought. For Kant, a person is not evil because of the mere presence of self-love, since self-love is itself morally neutral. Evil only arises when he pursues self-love over obedience to the moral law, because he recognizes that the two cannot simultaneously take first priority. Though the emphasis on priority is necessary here if the moral neutrality of self-love is to be maintained, it forces the question of moral conflict back to its unresolved state. If a person has noumenally chosen duty as his primary incentive, then his phenomenal actions should always manifest that choice. The presence of self-love might cause him to feel conflict phenomenally, but if his noumenal decision is pure and genuine, he should always overcome the temptation in the end. Similarly, a person who has chosen self-love as his chief incentive will always commit morally deficient phenomenal actions, even if some hidden reverence for the moral law causes him to feel conflicted for a while. This gives rise to a related problem. A pure, noumenal conception of moral character makes conversion as problematic as temptation. Take the example of a person who lives life in unabashed pursuit of pleasure, and who views the moral law as nothing but an irritating obstacle to subjective satisfaction. Suppose then that this person has an experience in which he is so moved by goodness that his resulting reverence for the law turns his moral world upside down, and his entire life becomes an outgrowth of this new attitude. A brief glance at history, literature, or the writings of the Saints will provide many examples of conversions like this one. Kant might claim that such a case is a dramatic phenomenal manifestation of a noumenal revolution. The only trouble with this explanation is that the whole conversion was rooted in phenomena. The person recognized and responded to the good given in a conscious experience. But all conscious experiences and choices are phenomenal. They cannot alter noumenal dispositions; they emanate from noumenal dispositions. If Kant is to remain faithful to his own principles, then the phenomenon of conversion is either a chimera or it is simply evidence of a noumenal disposition which somehow “became” good independently of any conscious, phenomenal experience or choice. But neither of these options seem to provide an adequate explanation for a genuine conversion experience, in which a person gains a new respect for the moral law and his fundamental disposition changes. Kant gives an account of pure will that operates without reference to phenomena, and so cannot adequately explain the evident influence that conscious (phenomenal) experience of good and evil has on our moral lives. Conversion occurs when someone recognizes the value of moral goodness and begins to act accordingly. This brings us back to the beginning: to the phenomenon of respect. Kant recognizes its importance, and it takes a central (though often unexamined) place in his moral philosophy. Caputo argues that by developing Kant’s notion of respect for the moral law and for human beings, one can break free of the noumenon-phenomenon division entirely and avoid its unnecessarily complicated results. He writes, The feeling of “respect” plays a central role in the phenomenological restatement of Kant which we are pursuing here, even though—or better: precisely because—it is incompatible with the dichotomy between phenomena and noumena to which Kant himself adhered. Kant held the impossible theory that the moral feeling of respect was the sole feeling in our ‘pathological’ nature to originate in the pure will. But if respect is a feeling, it belongs entirely to the phenomenal world and is wholly determined by phenomenal causes (Caputo 141). Caputo goes on to give a brief summary of Kant’s account of the phenomenon of respect. In the Critique of Practical Reason Kant writes that respect is a two-fold movement. The first part consists in being humbled and having one’s inclinations checked by the moral law. The second is a feeling of awe and admiration in response to the good. It is clear that Kant himself felt and valued this respect for the moral law. A famous example is his professed admiration for the “starry heavens above [him] and the moral law within [him].” Kant’s description of respect and its importance is also clearly seen in his remarks on the true spirit of and value of prayer. He writes: The consideration of the profound wisdom of divine creation in the smallest things and of its majesty in the great whole… not only has such a power as to transport the mind into that sinking mood, called adoration, in which the human being is as it were nothing in his own eyes, but is also, with respect to the human moral determination, such a soul-elevating power, that in comparison words…would have to vanish as empty sound, because the feeling arising from such a vision of the hand of God is inexpressible (Religion 188). Clearly this respect is not simply a strictly rational response of pure rational will. It has not only the features of reason which is able to intend the good’s existence (here God’s wisdom), but of a heart attuned to recognize its importance and respond with that “sinking mood called adoration”. Kant’s writing on the potential value of outward religion indicates that he sees intentional fostering of the disposition of respect to be morally beneficial. Of course, this would be impossible if phenomenal actions cannot alter noumenal dispositions, but if human beings are not as divided as Kant proposes, then his insight here retains its validity. A person’s fundamental moral attitude might determine the moral value of her actions in the world, but if phenomenal, “moodful” reverence compels her to follow the moral law, then the relationship between the self and the world might be more dynamic than Kant suspected. Kant further explains the important role of respect for the law in his discussion of the origin of good in the human person. He distinguishes three types of good inclinations: the predisposition to animality (a purely physical self-love), the predisposition to humanity (a rational self-love), and the predisposition to personality. Personality is the deepest and most morally important level. Kant writes, “the predisposition to personality is the susceptibility to respect for the moral law as of itself a sufficient incentive to the power of choice…the idea of the moral law alone, together with the respect that is inseparable from it, cannot be properly called a predisposition to personality; it is personality itself” (Religion 52). Not only is the moral law inherently valuable, but the ability to recognize and respect it is an integral part of our dignity as humans. The autonomy that results from following the moral law also evinces a respectful response. In the Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals Kant writes, “the [autonomous] lawgiving itself, which determines all worth, must for that very reason have a dignity, that is, an unconditional, incomparable worth; and the word respect alone provides a becoming expression for the estimate of it that a rational being must give” (Groundwork 43). The recognition of this “incomparable worth” leads into another of Kant’s moral imperatives, that humans should always be treated as ends rather than means. The deep reverence which the moral law (as unconditionally good) incites in us enables us to subordinate our self-love to fulfillment of the moral law. The greater our respect for the moral law, the easier it will be to make obedience to it the highest priority in our actions. And, much to the relief of people who are not quite so philosophically minded as Kant, one does not need to resort to proofs of pure practical reason to recognize that the value of the moral law is higher than that of self-love. Kant writes, “the free power of choice incorporates moral feeling into its maxim: so a power of choice so constituted is a good character” (Religion 52). Human affective responses are already attuned to the different levels of moral value. Our response to a saint has a different character than our response to a genius, and a still different character from our response to a person who only cares for her physical well-being. This is best explained by example. We can see a certain kind of value in taking care of one’s own physical and emotional health. We see a different, higher kind of value in the actions of someone like Mother Teresa, who served the poor and sick even at great personal risk. We might be deeply moved by Mother Teresa’s actions, but it is extremely unlikely that we would respond to someone’s health-consciousness in the same way, even though it is also good. One possible reason for the difference in response is that compassionate service of another person is always unconditionally good, whereas caring for one’s health is really only morally neutral. It can be very good, but it can also take on a negative moral character if it is pursued over and above one’s other obligations or without regard for other people. It lacks the unconditional moral importance of something like kindness or compassion, and so we do not respond to it in the same way. One could argue that helping someone in need is not unconditionally good, but can become evil if it is only undertaken as (for example) a way to gain personal glory. However, in such a case the moral deficiency does not come from a corrupted concern for another, but from a lack of genuine concern. If a person is kind and consoling simply because he wants to exercise power over another person by controlling that person’s emotions, then he is really only serving himself. Instead of seeing the value of another person and working to diminish his or her pain, he sees only an opportunity for gaining power. To him, the other person is not an end, but a means. Such a person is morally evil, no matter how “kind” his external actions might be. The fact that devilish wickedness can appear as angelic kindness does not in any way diminish from the unconditional goodness of genuine kindness. Kant’s human imperative expresses a very important aspect of respect. Humans ought always to be treated as ends and never as means. The importance of respect for other humans also serves to soften the cold formalism of the categorical imperative. It does not, however entirely succeed in this. Since Kant holds that noumenal moral decisions are made without reference to phenomenal, empirical data, he is hesitant to base the moral worth of an action on a response to the value of a particular, phenomenally encountered person. He tends instead to look for a commitment to respecting humanity in general, which is manifested in some particular action for an individual. In Religion he writes that “love…is not directed toward the good received by the needy person, but instead merely to the benefactor’s generosity of will which is inclined to confer it” (Religion 205). However, if Kant allows for both the moral importance of phenomenal experience and the intrinsic value of human beings, his account of love might change for the better. If the sharp distinction between noumena and phenomena is dropped, then one no longer has any compelling reason to defend ethical formalism. Hence, actions resulting from a response to the value of a particular person can have great moral value even if they are not chosen from a purely rational commitment to duty. In fact, a notion of love which is built upon response to the value of an individual rather than a mere unfolding of one’s sense of duty comes closer to expressing the nature of genuine love as it is experienced. Kant touches on something very deep in his account of respect for moral goodness and human dignity and its influence on the whole of moral life, but it simply does not fit into his metaphysical moorings and resulting epistemology. Caputo’s solution to this is to throw out the noumenon/phenomenon distinction altogether in light of Kant’s phenomenology of respect and its implicit immanentism. He writes, “if it belongs to the metaphysics of morals to keep the pure and empirical elements apart, just as a good chemist might do, it belongs to a hermeneutic of morals to show that such a distinction is from the start a fiction” (Caputo 141). Kant’s clear acknowledgement of the importance of respect and moral feeling for true morality provides a starting point for reuniting the moral agent with the phenomenal world, and releasing him from ethical formalism and radical divisions. A reinterpretation of Kant in light of his account of the fundamental attitude of respect allows his moral insights to come into their full meaning and power. |
