This seems a good time to take up discussions of what is often called moral or ethical relativism, for the fact that we all see the same world differently has put us in quite a state of confusion. This postmodern conundrum has been in many ways dumbfounding.
In a certain sense, it is to their credit that scholars have developed an appreciation of the relativity of perspectives in contemporary conceptions of ethical theory, for we have come to respect that a practice that seems clearly wrong from one point of view might make perfect sense, and actually even be right, from another. This form of relativism has come to be called multiculturalism, or as some prefer, inter-culturalism.
The intellectual reason for accepting this multicultural form of relativism is that it seems clear, given the limits of any given view, that no one should be allowed a privileged perspective to judge for all, for no one has the right to define from any given point of view what is necessarily right or wrong from another. The moral reason for accepting it is to promote tolerance, and to guard against the imperialism of judging what we don’t understand. But the problem that arises from this view is that, because different cultures have different moral beliefs, intelligent people of good will can and do disagree on what is morally permissible.
Indeed, since we do not argue dialectically, this view can sometimes lead to a radical form of relativism, what is called pure relativism, by some. This view leads to what some call Moral Nihilism, that is, the belief that there is no right or wrong whatsoever, that there is no moral truth independent of how culture constructs it.
This view, said to have been advanced by the 19th century German philosopher, Frederick Nietzsche, holds that morality itself is only a conventional illusion. Nietzsche argued that knowledge was never objective, therefore always serving some interest or unconscious purpose, most often a ‘will to power’. For this reason, what some think of as ‘absolute values’ are really only a king of ‘slave morality’ imposed by certain religious views, Nietzsche argued. Nietzsche endorsed what he called ‘master morality,’ by which the self-actualizing few rule the world by creating their own values and morality. Reality is therefore only a matter of how one looks at it, he says, a view that has come to be called perspectivalism and which some claim to indicate that there is no objective reality beyond subjective appearances, but the ancients might argue this goes too far.[1]
When it comes to the treatment of others, certainly it is sometimes the case that one society considers right what another Society considers wrong (e.g. slavery). Can we therefore draw the conclusion that right and wrong are simply relative to and defined by particular societies? Just because one culture might consider, say, child or spousal abuse acceptable, does it follow that it is ever just?
To be clear, keep in mind that in discussing relativism in this context, we are concerned only with "moral practices," which is to say, behavior that is of ethical concern because it has the potential to do harm (or even good) to others. Keeping this in mind will help us guard against confusing "harmless conventions" (e.g. the British drive on the left side of the road) with "harmful practices" (e.g. Clitorectomy is customary among the Somali). The distinction between "morals" and "mores" is that the latter can be defined as "harmless customs" (e.g., "tea at 4"), while the former involves "treatment of others" (e.g., "the practice of Apartheid"), which may both benefit and harm them.
The problem with this conclusion is that, even if ‘moralities’ differ from society to society, it need not follow that morality itself is simply relative. We can say that one culture approves slavery at the same time that another doesn’t, but it does not follow that slavery is ever right, or even morally neutral, just because a given culture believes it is. Cultures themselves can be wrong, or still evolving toward better practices. It can still be the case that cultural mores and norms themselves can be more or less moral, therefore, one might be closer to right and good, while another is further away.
Nonetheless, this does not imply that one can fairly judge from one culture to another, anymore than individuals can judge from one set of shoes to another…So while ethical relativism is valuable for promoting tolerance of diversity, it does not follow that any practice is justified just because a given culture endorses it.
In other words, again, to say that everyone has a right to their opinion is not the same as saying that every opinion is as good as any other. Some opinions, like some cultures, are simply better informed, better reasoned, and thus wiser than others that have not gone through a similar process. Still, it does not follow that we are justified in judging any culture from outside looking in, no matter how right we may think we are. On the other hand, there may be a just qualification for judgment, but it would require a more inside-looking-out point of view. So again, we are led to a conclusion of the importance of dialogue.
Justice, according to most philosophers, is not simply whatever we say it is. While it’s true that what is just may look different from different points of view, it is also true that some points of view are simply closer to true understanding of what really is.
There may seem to us that there is no way to prove anyone else right or wrong, for there seems to be no method that all can agree (as they tend to in science, for instance) is the right way to decide these things. But let’s not forget the implications of that golden rule that shows up in one form or another in nearly every wisdom tradition. For we can discern that injustice is, in all cases, objectively wrong – because we ourselves would not want to be on the receiving end of it, so neither should we put others in that position.
The uniquely human capacity to cause suffering without justification, that is, unfairly, has as its counterpart the ability to avoid doing so – and this is what makes the choice to cause it objectively wrong. It is specifically because we have a choice that makes one right and the other wrong – because we have the power to avoid it for a better option. And it is precisely because we know something is wrong, that it could cause suffering and could be avoided, that makes it an ethical issue. That we do this thing anyway, knowing we cause harm when we could have done otherwise, is what makes the action wrong, and what makes the choice an immoral one. (Perhaps all this would benefit from a karmic context; we remember because we regret.)
Whether any given action is itself always unjust or always likely to cause suffering is another question, and one that can seem difficult to sort out once and for all. Because the same action that is wrong in one instance (e.g. killing a defenseless innocent) may in fact be right in another instance (e.g. killing a being to put it out of its misery). What matters is the reasoning behind it – is it justified? Or merely rationalized?
Therefore, to say that morality is merely conventional, that is, whatever a society defines it as, is to take the point or relativism too far. It is not just a matter of opinion to say that something is cruel, unjust, or exploitive. Relativity is about how we all see the same world differently and understand justice to different degrees, but it is not about how we all live in our own little (cultural or individual) worlds or simply make up reality and the rules of justice as we go.
Therefore, we might rightly argue that relativity is only properly understood in the context of complementarity. Which is to say, it is about reconciling differing perspectives on the same reality (as if by triangulation), not merely asserting the right of any point of view to claim to be the truth. *
True ethical and cultural relativity, properly understood in a complementary way, does not claim that culture itself is always right. In fact, cultures may evolve as people learn to be more moral (hence the popular uprising against slavery, Apartied, etc.). Likewise, they may sometimes devolve if they learn to be less moral (hence the failure to rise up when a democracy becomes a tyranny). What relative complementarity claims is simply that different cultures, like different people, are likely to see things differently, and may have different more or less justifiable reasons for doing the same thing. Therefore, what looks like savage cruelty from the point of view of one culture (e.g. exposing the old folks to the elements to die) may be inherently reasonable when seen in the fullness of the cultural reasons that give rise to it (e.g. limits of resources, will of the elders, etc.).
A universal morality would have to reconcile these differing points of view. And again, we see the importance of dialogue.
Consider the view of Michel Foucault, the French philosopher who gave us his thoughts on books as more than concrete objects. Foucault developed an analysis of power in modern society that did not lead to the same nihilistic conclusions that others had reached. Foucault studied and illuminated how human ‘subjectivity’ is constructed and constrained by institutions and practices (though we many use words like consciousness, conscience, inner voice, and inside-looking-out point of view to describe it), but Foucault was not a pure subjectivist nor a moral nihilist. He did not believe that there is no objective reality, only that when we single out an object of knowledge from the rest of the world, it is a ‘thing’ that is ‘clear and distinct’ (in Descartes words) only because we have chosen to focus upon it – not necessarily because it is objectively real in any tangible sense, although it certainly may be.
In his book, The Archaeology of Knowledge, Foucault writes:
"We must question those ready-made syntheses, those groupings that we normally accept before any examination, those links whose validity is recognized from the outset…And instead of according them unqualified, spontaneous value, we must accept, in the mane of methodological rigor, that, in the first instance, they concern only a population of dispersed events."
"[T]he system of formation that we have defined remains stable. But let there be no misunderstanding: it is not the objects that remain constant…but the relation between the surfaces on which they appear, on which they can be delimited, on which they can be analyzed and specified."
Surfaces in the physical world are easy to discern, but in the world of ideas, perception must be more deliberate. We have to deliberately think about fine and abstract distinctions to see them. But once we do, they become real and useful to us in a way that makes a practical difference. Again, atoms, ideas, and feelings are all as real as rocks – they are just more abstract.
The ancients would agree that our attention may be arbitrary, but it needn’t be, not if we seek the whole truth. Having the veracity to see things as they actually are is an element of good character that the ancients understood and taught, and arguably this is where we’ve dropped the ball.
So it does not disprove relativism to say that some cultures are not right about their views and that cultures themselves may have something to learn from one another. The most we can say is that right and wrong look different from different points of view – but not that the mere appearance of right or wrong is ever the final word.
Therefore, no one (person or culture) has the unqualified right to judge another without due consideration of all the relevant perspectives. In other words, without standing in the other’s shoes, we really don’t know what we’re talking about. Once again, we are led to a conclusion that emphasizes the importance of dialogue.
This brings us back to a form of relativism we have come to call multiculturalism, which more resembles complementarity, and differs from extreme relativism in that it is open-minded about the range of different ways there are to be human and solve the problems of being alive, but it is not uncritically so. We may all see the world (i.e. the universe, reality) differently, but it is the same world, the same universe, the same reality, and ultimately, the same truth. The good thing about the truth is that it stays truth – no matter how we might deny, ignore, or malign it. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth could unite all those who pledge allegiance to it. Perhaps then, and only then, will bullshit stop ruling our world. And the truth is, the world does make sense, but only those who seeks the truth will find it. So rather than taking each culture to simply make up the rules of morality as they go, we may have something to learn from other cultures, just as we may have something to teach. Therefore, we need dialogue between these points of view, because moral justification can be better or worse, and sometimes it is more rationalization than justification. In this way, inter-culturalism that does not imply pure and unjustified relativism, but rather involves something more like a relative complementarity of different points of view on the self-same world. This multicultural form of relativity calls for humility, empathy, dialogue, and reconciliation of dialectic points of view. To understand how different people or cultures see things differently, we have to look from inside-out. We may, upon full consideration, ultimately and justifiably judge a cultural practice unethical, but we cannot presume to be good judges of this merely from outside-looking-in. We must first listen and learn.
[1] It is unlikely Nietzsche actually held this view that many have attributed to him, but he does suggest as much. At any rate, Nietzsche was influenced by his ‘friends’, Schopenhauer and Wagner, but ultimately suffered a breakdown from what was said to be overwork and loneliness. Given his philosophy, which could not distinguish between a ‘master’ like Jesus or Gandhi and one like Hitler, it is entirely possible to conclude that Nietzsche did not understand ‘friendship’ well enough to have any actual friends, which might account for his loneliness in old age.
In a certain sense, it is to their credit that scholars have developed an appreciation of the relativity of perspectives in contemporary conceptions of ethical theory, for we have come to respect that a practice that seems clearly wrong from one point of view might make perfect sense, and actually even be right, from another. This form of relativism has come to be called multiculturalism, or as some prefer, inter-culturalism.
The intellectual reason for accepting this multicultural form of relativism is that it seems clear, given the limits of any given view, that no one should be allowed a privileged perspective to judge for all, for no one has the right to define from any given point of view what is necessarily right or wrong from another. The moral reason for accepting it is to promote tolerance, and to guard against the imperialism of judging what we don’t understand. But the problem that arises from this view is that, because different cultures have different moral beliefs, intelligent people of good will can and do disagree on what is morally permissible.
Indeed, since we do not argue dialectically, this view can sometimes lead to a radical form of relativism, what is called pure relativism, by some. This view leads to what some call Moral Nihilism, that is, the belief that there is no right or wrong whatsoever, that there is no moral truth independent of how culture constructs it.
This view, said to have been advanced by the 19th century German philosopher, Frederick Nietzsche, holds that morality itself is only a conventional illusion. Nietzsche argued that knowledge was never objective, therefore always serving some interest or unconscious purpose, most often a ‘will to power’. For this reason, what some think of as ‘absolute values’ are really only a king of ‘slave morality’ imposed by certain religious views, Nietzsche argued. Nietzsche endorsed what he called ‘master morality,’ by which the self-actualizing few rule the world by creating their own values and morality. Reality is therefore only a matter of how one looks at it, he says, a view that has come to be called perspectivalism and which some claim to indicate that there is no objective reality beyond subjective appearances, but the ancients might argue this goes too far.[1]
When it comes to the treatment of others, certainly it is sometimes the case that one society considers right what another Society considers wrong (e.g. slavery). Can we therefore draw the conclusion that right and wrong are simply relative to and defined by particular societies? Just because one culture might consider, say, child or spousal abuse acceptable, does it follow that it is ever just?
To be clear, keep in mind that in discussing relativism in this context, we are concerned only with "moral practices," which is to say, behavior that is of ethical concern because it has the potential to do harm (or even good) to others. Keeping this in mind will help us guard against confusing "harmless conventions" (e.g. the British drive on the left side of the road) with "harmful practices" (e.g. Clitorectomy is customary among the Somali). The distinction between "morals" and "mores" is that the latter can be defined as "harmless customs" (e.g., "tea at 4"), while the former involves "treatment of others" (e.g., "the practice of Apartheid"), which may both benefit and harm them.
The problem with this conclusion is that, even if ‘moralities’ differ from society to society, it need not follow that morality itself is simply relative. We can say that one culture approves slavery at the same time that another doesn’t, but it does not follow that slavery is ever right, or even morally neutral, just because a given culture believes it is. Cultures themselves can be wrong, or still evolving toward better practices. It can still be the case that cultural mores and norms themselves can be more or less moral, therefore, one might be closer to right and good, while another is further away.
Nonetheless, this does not imply that one can fairly judge from one culture to another, anymore than individuals can judge from one set of shoes to another…So while ethical relativism is valuable for promoting tolerance of diversity, it does not follow that any practice is justified just because a given culture endorses it.
In other words, again, to say that everyone has a right to their opinion is not the same as saying that every opinion is as good as any other. Some opinions, like some cultures, are simply better informed, better reasoned, and thus wiser than others that have not gone through a similar process. Still, it does not follow that we are justified in judging any culture from outside looking in, no matter how right we may think we are. On the other hand, there may be a just qualification for judgment, but it would require a more inside-looking-out point of view. So again, we are led to a conclusion of the importance of dialogue.
Justice, according to most philosophers, is not simply whatever we say it is. While it’s true that what is just may look different from different points of view, it is also true that some points of view are simply closer to true understanding of what really is.
There may seem to us that there is no way to prove anyone else right or wrong, for there seems to be no method that all can agree (as they tend to in science, for instance) is the right way to decide these things. But let’s not forget the implications of that golden rule that shows up in one form or another in nearly every wisdom tradition. For we can discern that injustice is, in all cases, objectively wrong – because we ourselves would not want to be on the receiving end of it, so neither should we put others in that position.
The uniquely human capacity to cause suffering without justification, that is, unfairly, has as its counterpart the ability to avoid doing so – and this is what makes the choice to cause it objectively wrong. It is specifically because we have a choice that makes one right and the other wrong – because we have the power to avoid it for a better option. And it is precisely because we know something is wrong, that it could cause suffering and could be avoided, that makes it an ethical issue. That we do this thing anyway, knowing we cause harm when we could have done otherwise, is what makes the action wrong, and what makes the choice an immoral one. (Perhaps all this would benefit from a karmic context; we remember because we regret.)
Whether any given action is itself always unjust or always likely to cause suffering is another question, and one that can seem difficult to sort out once and for all. Because the same action that is wrong in one instance (e.g. killing a defenseless innocent) may in fact be right in another instance (e.g. killing a being to put it out of its misery). What matters is the reasoning behind it – is it justified? Or merely rationalized?
Therefore, to say that morality is merely conventional, that is, whatever a society defines it as, is to take the point or relativism too far. It is not just a matter of opinion to say that something is cruel, unjust, or exploitive. Relativity is about how we all see the same world differently and understand justice to different degrees, but it is not about how we all live in our own little (cultural or individual) worlds or simply make up reality and the rules of justice as we go.
Therefore, we might rightly argue that relativity is only properly understood in the context of complementarity. Which is to say, it is about reconciling differing perspectives on the same reality (as if by triangulation), not merely asserting the right of any point of view to claim to be the truth. *
True ethical and cultural relativity, properly understood in a complementary way, does not claim that culture itself is always right. In fact, cultures may evolve as people learn to be more moral (hence the popular uprising against slavery, Apartied, etc.). Likewise, they may sometimes devolve if they learn to be less moral (hence the failure to rise up when a democracy becomes a tyranny). What relative complementarity claims is simply that different cultures, like different people, are likely to see things differently, and may have different more or less justifiable reasons for doing the same thing. Therefore, what looks like savage cruelty from the point of view of one culture (e.g. exposing the old folks to the elements to die) may be inherently reasonable when seen in the fullness of the cultural reasons that give rise to it (e.g. limits of resources, will of the elders, etc.).
A universal morality would have to reconcile these differing points of view. And again, we see the importance of dialogue.
Consider the view of Michel Foucault, the French philosopher who gave us his thoughts on books as more than concrete objects. Foucault developed an analysis of power in modern society that did not lead to the same nihilistic conclusions that others had reached. Foucault studied and illuminated how human ‘subjectivity’ is constructed and constrained by institutions and practices (though we many use words like consciousness, conscience, inner voice, and inside-looking-out point of view to describe it), but Foucault was not a pure subjectivist nor a moral nihilist. He did not believe that there is no objective reality, only that when we single out an object of knowledge from the rest of the world, it is a ‘thing’ that is ‘clear and distinct’ (in Descartes words) only because we have chosen to focus upon it – not necessarily because it is objectively real in any tangible sense, although it certainly may be.
In his book, The Archaeology of Knowledge, Foucault writes:
"We must question those ready-made syntheses, those groupings that we normally accept before any examination, those links whose validity is recognized from the outset…And instead of according them unqualified, spontaneous value, we must accept, in the mane of methodological rigor, that, in the first instance, they concern only a population of dispersed events."
"[T]he system of formation that we have defined remains stable. But let there be no misunderstanding: it is not the objects that remain constant…but the relation between the surfaces on which they appear, on which they can be delimited, on which they can be analyzed and specified."
Surfaces in the physical world are easy to discern, but in the world of ideas, perception must be more deliberate. We have to deliberately think about fine and abstract distinctions to see them. But once we do, they become real and useful to us in a way that makes a practical difference. Again, atoms, ideas, and feelings are all as real as rocks – they are just more abstract.
The ancients would agree that our attention may be arbitrary, but it needn’t be, not if we seek the whole truth. Having the veracity to see things as they actually are is an element of good character that the ancients understood and taught, and arguably this is where we’ve dropped the ball.
So it does not disprove relativism to say that some cultures are not right about their views and that cultures themselves may have something to learn from one another. The most we can say is that right and wrong look different from different points of view – but not that the mere appearance of right or wrong is ever the final word.
Therefore, no one (person or culture) has the unqualified right to judge another without due consideration of all the relevant perspectives. In other words, without standing in the other’s shoes, we really don’t know what we’re talking about. Once again, we are led to a conclusion that emphasizes the importance of dialogue.
This brings us back to a form of relativism we have come to call multiculturalism, which more resembles complementarity, and differs from extreme relativism in that it is open-minded about the range of different ways there are to be human and solve the problems of being alive, but it is not uncritically so. We may all see the world (i.e. the universe, reality) differently, but it is the same world, the same universe, the same reality, and ultimately, the same truth. The good thing about the truth is that it stays truth – no matter how we might deny, ignore, or malign it. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth could unite all those who pledge allegiance to it. Perhaps then, and only then, will bullshit stop ruling our world. And the truth is, the world does make sense, but only those who seeks the truth will find it. So rather than taking each culture to simply make up the rules of morality as they go, we may have something to learn from other cultures, just as we may have something to teach. Therefore, we need dialogue between these points of view, because moral justification can be better or worse, and sometimes it is more rationalization than justification. In this way, inter-culturalism that does not imply pure and unjustified relativism, but rather involves something more like a relative complementarity of different points of view on the self-same world. This multicultural form of relativity calls for humility, empathy, dialogue, and reconciliation of dialectic points of view. To understand how different people or cultures see things differently, we have to look from inside-out. We may, upon full consideration, ultimately and justifiably judge a cultural practice unethical, but we cannot presume to be good judges of this merely from outside-looking-in. We must first listen and learn.
[1] It is unlikely Nietzsche actually held this view that many have attributed to him, but he does suggest as much. At any rate, Nietzsche was influenced by his ‘friends’, Schopenhauer and Wagner, but ultimately suffered a breakdown from what was said to be overwork and loneliness. Given his philosophy, which could not distinguish between a ‘master’ like Jesus or Gandhi and one like Hitler, it is entirely possible to conclude that Nietzsche did not understand ‘friendship’ well enough to have any actual friends, which might account for his loneliness in old age.