What is Moral Truth?

‍Or “Why I am a Moral Realist: Part Two”

The idea of ‘truth’ is not old-fashioned or outmoded, and neither is the amazing art that reflects it. - GKK

3,800 words | 25 minutes

If the statement All humans are equal in intrinsic value is true, then statements that contradict it are false—statements like Only my life and happiness have intrinsic value or Certain kinds of people are inherently superior to others. But what does it mean to say that statements of moral value are true and others false? We need to understand what we are saying, and hold on to it if it’s valid, and discard it otherwise. Let us begin by examining the nature of truth in general.‍ ‍

The Nature of Truth

‍William James (1842-1910) offers the following commonsense definition of truth:

Truth, as any dictionary will tell you, is a property of certain of our ideas. It means their ‘agreement,’ as falsity means their disagreement, with ‘reality.’

‍Locke articulates essentially the same idea:

‍Truth is the marking down in words the agreement or disagreement of ideas as it is. Falsehood is the marking down in words the agreement or disagreement of ideas otherwise than it is.

‍Therefore, the statement there is tea in the cupboard is true or false depending on whether there really is tea in the cupboard.

‍Ideas or statements made about the state of physical reality can be verified empirically—by observing the relevant phenomena in the world. Other statements, however, do not pertain to physical reality, but to mental or conceptual reality. For example, 1 + 2 = 3 and If A = B and B = C, then A = C. Such statements are understood and verified not by sense observation, but by rational intuition or reason. Reason sees that certain propositions are true or false given the principles of logic and mathematics. These principles pertain to what we may call the logical-mathematical domain. The concepts one encounters in this domain exist nowhere but in the minds of thinking agents. In other words, if there were no thinking agents, such as humans and maybe gods, these concepts would not exist. The domain itself therefore represents a mental reality. True statements about objects of thought in this domain, by definition, agree with those objects, as in the examples just cited.

‍Like physical reality, the mental reality of logic and mathematics is compelling. The things we encounter in it force us to make concessions. Once I see something by reason, I cannot deny what I see (without deception) any more than I can deny that there is tea in the cupboard when I can see, touch, and smell it. Observing the reality forces me to make the concession. If I fail to do so, I subject myself to “inconsistency and frustration.”

‍To say that All humans have equal intrinsic value is true is to say that the sentence corresponds to or agrees with some reality. Clearly the other reality is not physical—there is no shrine in the forest proving the statement to be true; neither is there any logical or mathematical formula for it. Then to what does it correspond?

Aequitas embodies a certain feeling or attitude towards human beings and their welfare, namely one of benevolence and respect. Feelings, attitudes, values, and beliefs are all mental phenomena, so statements expressing or defining them can be true about the mind wherein they exist and nowhere else. Aequitas can therefore be said to be true with respect to the mental reality of a person who feels or sympathizes with it. We might call this reality a moral reality, or at least a moral perception for now, to distinguish it not only from physical reality, but from other mental realities such as syllogisms and mathematical theorems. So then, Aequitas is true with respect to the morally conscious mind that thinks it. The statement Humans have intrinsic value is true, quite simply, with respect to the one who values humans.

We might say, then, that Aequitas corresponds to what the authors of the Declaration of Human Rights felt about the inherent dignity of all members of the human family. But if all we mean by saying that Aequitas is true is that it corresponds to what a particular group of people, however prestigious, happens to think, while criminal gangs and terrorist groups disagree, then stating it is roughly analogous to stating something like caviar tastes good, or blondes are attractive: it is true with respect to certain people, but not to everyone. For Aequitas to count as true in a way that is similar to saying there is tea in the cupboard (when there is), or the speed of light is 186,282 miles per second (which is always true) then it must apply to everyone, not just to some.

How can a moral reality apply to everyone? And how can it do so as perfectly as physical reality, and as rigidly as logical and mathematical reality?

Let us be more clear. To apply to everyone means to affect everyone’s consciousness—or, more precisely, to affect the consciousness of everyone attentive to the relevant object. Physical reality does this by imposing sense impressions on people (and animals) according to fixed patterns; intellectual reality does this by allowing rational agents to perceive the equivalence or non-equivalence of ideas in light of logical-mathematical principles. The question, then, is how can a moral reality affect every attentive person’s consciousness in the same or similar way?

Mind and Reality

The theist will answer that the love of God fills heaven and earth, that his law shines like the sun, daily proclaiming the “invisible things of him from the creation of the world.” Creation testifies daily of God’s infinite love. As Handel’s chorus sings: “Their sound is gone out, and their words unto the end of the world.” If we confess Aequitas, our confession is true because it agrees with the divine omnibenevolence.

Pantheist-leaning people may appeal instead to the Universe as a conscious totality. If the Universe in some way thinks or feels what we are calling Aequitas, then virtually all of us will be sensitive to the impression that humans—and indeed all forms of life—have intrinsic value. A moral philosopher may state this concept explicitly; the rest of us may already possess this knowledge subconsciously. Either way, the statement is true sub specie aeternitatis—from the perspective of the universe—and is therefore as true and universal as any valid syllogism. As R.W. Emerson writes:

We lie in the lap of immense intelligence, which makes us receivers of its truth and organs of its activity. When we discern justice, when we discern truth, we do nothing of ourselves, but allow a passage to its beams.

The secularist may cite Raymond Tallis’ Community of Minds, which the British philosopher postulates as a mental fabric emerging from the collective experience of human beings past and present. It is through this mental fabric that we see ourselves as selves in a world of other people, physical objects, as well as ideas, possibilities, and principles. The Community of Minds is as ancient as humanity, and thus larger than the individual brain-in-body, or even group of brains-in-bodies. It is against this backdrop, Tallis writes:

…that we develop a feeling about how things ought to be as well as how they are, of rules that are to be respected that go beyond mere regularities….the sense of the proper, the logical and the true.

The thoughts of God, the Universe, or a Community of Minds are reality-defining. They determine our perception as morally aware creatures just as physical objects are said to determine our perception as sentient creatures. Interestingly, not all identifying theists, pantheists, and secularists will agree with the views expressed above. A Calvinist, for example, will deny that God sees all humans as intrinsically valuable, but sees many (or all) of them as a means to an end—namely the increase of his own glory. Practitioners of black magic may espouse a kind of pantheism while manipulating the spirit-realm without respect to their neighbor’s welfare. And the materialistic secularist will deny any scope to mind beyond individual brains currently operating in the bodies of living animals. This brief survey shows that Aequitas draws clear philosophical lines between humanistic and anti-humanistic worldviews. It does not, however, draw these lines between the perhaps more commonly emphasized rivalries such as theism and atheism, orthodoxy and heterodoxy, or even liberalism and conservatism.

‍Despite its friendliness to different philosophical systems or approaches, however, Aequitas is far from neutral. It contradicts any view that denies the existence of a benevolent mental reality transcending or encompassing all human groups and individuals, whether that reality be called God or otherwise. A moral axiom is true by definition. For it to count as true, it must apply to everyone; and to apply to everyone, it must make an impression on virtually all attentive people at some level of consciousness. For this to happen, there must be, broadly speaking, a mind that conveys its thought to us as morally aware beings. That mind must transcend the individual or the group, lest its authority extend no further than the individual or the group.

Without some kind of idealism (which regards mind rather than matter as the ultimate reality) the concept of moral truth becomes incoherent. Moral values shrink from the size of Stonehenge to eighteen inches. If there is no God, no Conscious Universe, no Community of Minds, and nothing like them in the world, then Aequitas can be “true” only of certain groups or individuals. There would be no reason to apply it to the whole human race just because the UN, the Catholic Church, or the American Humanist Association happen to affirm it. Some well-meaning authors try to simplify the problem of how to explain the powerful impression of moral reality by calling moral principles “brute facts” about the world or the like. Such descriptions do not address what it means for a moral axiom to be true. The idealist views do. Notably, the idealist conception of God, the Universe, or Humanity is reached as an inference—that is, Aequitas is not inferred from a metaphysical claim such as God exists!; rather, the metaphysical entity is inferred in light of the moral axiom. If other evidence corroborates the same inference, it is all the more probable; but this is outside the scope. In any case, we need a positive vision of reality that does justice to moral intuitions. The idealist systems provide such a vision, and the serious seeker of truth will take their claims seriously, however contrary they may be to prevailing intellectual current.

Opposed to this are various thought-systems falling under the heading of subjectivism, which rejects the idea of moral truth altogether. In the subjectivist’s eyes, Aequitas reflects nothing about the nature of the universe, but only the emotions or imaginations of those who believe it. Its truth-value is illusory.

The subjectivist position is not inherently illogical, but the one who holds it will find it difficult to justify his aversion for violence—if he is averse to violence—on moral grounds. If, for example, the idea that the rights of the weak are no less valid than those of the strong is only an opinion, an arbitrary consensus, or a cultural invention like the fork, why should one nation refrain from invading its neighbor if they can get away with it? On what ground is one to condemn the United States’ theft of Native American land, or Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, or any other instance of unprovoked aggression? And why should a group of marauders refrain from raping the women in the cities they conquer? The subjectivist is hard pressed to condemn such behaviors on rational grounds. Variations on We don’t like it, or So and so doesn’t like it are un-compelling. If Aequitas or something like it is not really true, how are we to rationally condemn violent conquest, or find the courage to resist it, or refrain from perpetrating it ourselves? As shown previously, appeals to the law or to social harmony are made in vain: the powers that be may or may not care about human rights, and racists may find all the love and companionship they feel they need without respecting the people they hate. Under the subjectivist scheme, no one is rationally compelled to accept Aequitas who doesn’t have a taste for it. But Aequitas must be true because morality depends on it, and conscience requires that we live morally.

How Can Aequitas be Verified?

To know that there is tea in the cupboard, you go and look; to know that an inference is valid, you use reason or rational intuition; to know that Aequitas is true, you use something else. Different word-labels have been suggested for this faculty: moral intuition, practical reason, and conscience. The latter term has Latin roots signifying “with knowledge.” Conscience manifests as a feeling of guilt or regret when we do harm or injustice; or discomfort and alarm if we contemplate doing harm or injustice. Moral intuition includes this as well as positive emotions such as vindication when justice is done, or joy when mercy is shown, etc. All these emotions are felt when we are practicing empathy, from Greek roots meaning with feeling. They relate to our sense of what ought to be in light of what others and we ourselves feel.

Let’s stick with the term moral intuition for now. This faculty is a sense organ by which we see moral reality and ourselves in relation to it. Another common metaphor is a voice. According to tradition, this voice remains clear when we follow it, but grows dim when we ignore it.

Moral intuition is a common human inheritance, though some may lack it. A psychopath or sociopath is identified as a person with weak or absent moral intuition. About one to four percent of people have antisocial personality disorder (the technical term for psychopath or sociopath). Interestingly, about the same number of people—three percent—are either legally blind or visually impaired. The fact that some people lack moral intuition does not prove that moral reality does not exist any more than the fact that some people are blind proves that light does not exist.

Practical Reason

One may rejoin that moral intuition speaks differently to different people, and that appealing to it, therefore, proves nothing about moral reality. For example, one person believes passionately that abortion is wrong, and another with equal passion that opposing it is wrong. This and a thousand other disagreements show that moral intuition does not speak with a unified voice, and that morality therefore exists nowhere but in the minds of individuals or the tribes to which they belong.

Such disagreements demonstrate the need for sound moral reasoning in light of humane moral principle. The one who condemns abortion does so because he sees a fetus as a human life distinct from that of the mother. The one who condemns attempts to limit abortion does so because he sees a fetus as part of a woman’s body, which no one else has the right to control. Both these positions take human dignity for granted. One is concerned with the dignity of the fetus; the other with that of the mother. It is the role of reason to determine whether a fetus counts as a distinct human life; and if so, when it becomes so; and moreover, what the role of government ought to be in relation to the practice, etc.

The emotions we feel depend on the logical connections between principles, facts, and conclusions. We may make these connections subconsciously, yielding a gut reaction; or consciously, after we have suspended judgment and tested the integrity of the logical steps involved. Either way, we feel emotion in light of moral principle and the relevant information. If there is an error in the reasoning process, or a failure to account for all the data, our emotions will be out of harmony with moral reality. This does not mean there is no moral reality; it means an error was made. And this does not necessarily make you or me a fool or a villain; it makes us human. Cuiusvis hominis est errare. Ideally, we will be flexible enough to change our minds when presented with new information. In any case (as stated in the previous chapter) the process of moral reasoning takes place once certain principles are given—meaning accepted, consciously or otherwise. Reason’s job in the domain of ethics, then, is to solve ethical problems in light of moral principle. It observes facts, processes their significance, and leads us to practical conclusions—hence the word-label practical reason.

Thornbushes

The traditional enemy of reason and conscience is prejudice, which ignores relevant facts and skips to the preferred conclusion. Prejudice may recruit the intellect to simulate rational argument in order to deceive ourselves or others into accepting the desired conclusion. This causes confusion and disagreement.

Various pitfalls may cause us to stumble into the thornbush of prejudice. The most obvious of these is the appeal of the personal benefit we gain if a preferred conclusion is true. There are a million examples. “That was definitely a foul!” “No it wasn’t, bastard!” There is also the tendency to think along with our group, whatever they happen to think. Less obvious, perhaps, is the aversion we feel toward the inconvenience of revising our belief-system if an unfavored proposition is admitted to be true. This aversion leads to confirmation bias—the tendency to interpret evidence so as to confirm the beliefs we already hold, and thereby avoid the need to return to the intellectual drawing board, or call the time we’ve already spent there a waste.

Still other factors may contribute to our fall into prejudice—factors beyond our control, such as access to quality education, subjection to propaganda from a young age, or the lack of luxury to reflect as a working adult. Economic necessity may prevent us from even beginning to reevaluate aspects of the worldview we inherited from our parents and teachers. Changing our mind requires time and sometimes courage—a willingness to risk losing relationships, or to subject ourselves to ridicule or persecution. Surely people deserve compassion despite their biases in light of these considerations. Nevertheless, the effects of prejudice are as undesirable when its causes are understandable as otherwise.

Whatever its cause or motivation, prejudice inhibits sound reasoning. It is graffiti spray-painted onto a window blocking and distorting the view. Once we clean the window, or replace it altogether, we can see the trees and sunshine more clearly.

Objective Reality

When I see the North Star and observe that others see it as well, I am justified in reasoning that it is not a hallucination. By inductive reasoning, I conclude that anyone who is not visually impaired who looks northward in the northern hemisphere on a clear night will also be able to see the North Star. Similarly, we may conclude that statements such as Humans are all equal in intrinsic value signify a real phenomenon that anyone whose moral intuition is not impaired will acknowledge. Prejudice or dishonesty may prevent us from acknowledging the moral reality; but we may overcome those pitfalls with open-mindedness and the willingness to empathize. If we are unwilling, we may deny that we see; but who is willing to hold steadfastly to such a denial, in word and deed? The egoist may verbally assent to Aequitas to avoid being seen as a moral ignoramus, but then treat inferiors at work with disdain while currying favor with superiors. He accepts moral reality in word but denies it in deed. Meanwhile, the progressive intellectual may oppose the idea of moral reality openly, and defend his position with apparent sophistication, but then advocate for racial equality and environmental justice. He denies moral reality in word but supports favored causes in deed, as if they really were worthy and not just personal preferences or emotions.

Aequitas is as verifiable in the domain of morality as the Pythagorean Theorem is in the domain of mathematics, the Pole Star in the night sky, and the principle of object permanence everywhere in nature. Empirical observation verifies physical realities; reason verifies intellectual realities; and moral intuition verifies moral realities. Just as humans are liable to make mistakes in math and in their beliefs about tea being in the cupboard, so they are liable to make mistakes in their description of moral reality. Human error, however, does not negate the objectivity of the domain in which the error occurs. To claim that it does can have no practical benefit. The physical world is just an illusion anyway! is not a reasonable response when your claim that there was tea in the cupboard was just proved wrong. Or when you get your sum wrong, Math is just a human invention! The statements are obviously absurd, and can serve no purpose, other than comedy.

The Pragmatic Method

Pragmatism is the philosophy that the value of an idea or belief consists in its ability to lead one towards desired ends. The belief that there is tea in the cupboard, for example, is true when, believing it, one can retrieve it and brew a cup. It leads one to do something fruitful rather than frustrating. “Truth in our ideas means their power to work,” James says. True beliefs are pragmatic because they empower us to get what is desired. Pragmatism, however, is a “method only.” It confirms beliefs that help carry us to desired ends, but does not define those ends. It does not dispute that we should seek our own good, such as the pleasure of a cup of tea; but it leaves moral questions like What should I be doing? or What is my duty? unanswered. This is no deficiency, but a delimitation. James, for one, answers the question in another text:

There is but one unconditional commandment, which is that we should seek incessantly, with fear and trembling, so to vote and to act as to bring about the very largest total universe of good which we can see.

A universe with moral reality is larger than one without. It induces “fear and trembling.” Like the stars of the night sky, it evokes awe and admiration. In this larger universe, moral value extends beyond yourself or your group. Given this generous and enlarged conception of the universe, pragmatism tells us to evaluate claims based on the kinds of behaviors results they tend to promote or inhibit. The claim that all members of the human family are equal in rights and dignity promotes peace, charity, and benevolent action. If the fruit is good, so is the tree.

If this idea of a large universe with a real moral dimension is valid, it should be able to withstand interrogation from any and all sides. We’ll consider some of those interrogations in the next post.

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Does the idea of moral reality make the world larger than it would be otherwise, and what does that mean for art and artistic creation?