Month: July 2021

Law Journal Application Sample

The Associate Editor position resonates with my strong interests in exploring and contributing to legal scholarship. I look forward to sharpening my skills in legal research while aligning myself with the vision and high standards of the Osgoode Hall Law Journal (OHLJ).


My Master’s degree has equipped me with the necessary skills for legal scholarship and publication. My research explored the relationship between law and morality by looking closely at how related concepts, like “impartiality” and “duty”, are framed by legal and moral philosophers. Here, I had the opportunity to work closely with a cohort of faculty, authors, and peers specializing in the philosophy of law, and I had the opportunity to edit abstracts, papers, and manuscripts for publication. My contributions to the editing process was multilayered. Careful attention to grammar and citation were crucial for shaping and refining a final product that met the high standards of publication; however, my role extended to strengthening arguments, clarifying ideas, and ensuring that the author’s vision is realized through text. Moreover, as a Teaching Assistant, I enjoyed guiding students through rich philosophical texts and articulating complex ideas in writing. I am passionate about supporting writers of all kinds, because I can relate to the joy and pride of creating a satisfying final product.


I am particularly drawn to OHLJ’s collaborative working environment. I believe that collaboration fosters the best work as it utilizes and highlights a diversity of individual strengths, while creating a support system for team members. Prior to law school, I worked at the Ontario Medical Association where I was a part of an interdepartmental team that managed the nominations and election procedures for over 40,000 medical professionals across the province. My role was to act as the liaison between departments to solve technological issues and investigate policy constraints for the shared goal of a successful election cycle. This role has taught me to take ownership of and accountability for assigned tasks and working in a dynamic environment to meet multiple tight deadlines. I hope to bring this experience to a team devoted to legal scholarship


The value of legal scholarship is tied to the quality of ideas communicated through writing. A crucial part of communicating through writing an article for publication is the cogency of the argument, which consists of three elements: rigor, clarity, and flow. Rigor is achieved by engaging and situating ideas within the existing community of scholarship. This makes for a more balanced argument by considering objections in the existing literature. Next, clarity is essential for creating scholarship that can communicate complex ideas in a transparent and easily digestible manner to audiences. Often, the familiarity of our own ideas blinds us from the conceptual gaps and points of vagueness in our own writing. Finally, after situating an argument and ensuring that it is clearly presented, it is important to consider the writing as a freestanding entity and assess the overall coherence of the argument. The flow of argumentation can be achieved by pruning off any irrelevant or inconsistent pieces. The elements of rigor, clarity, and flow are constituent parts of the cogency of an argument, and the cogency of an argument (with a dash of creativity and originality) is the defining feature of a good academic article.


I look forward to sharing my values in a collaborative team. Speaking to the OHLJ editors at the club’s fair and open house confirmed that it is a fun and collegial environment. I hope to sharpen my skills and take the experiences gained as an Associate Editor further in my upper years in the role of a Senior Editor.

Commentary: Reproductive Technology–Savior Siblings and the Wrong “Rightness”

Is creating a baby as a means to saving another human right or wrong? The question of “savior siblings” seems to be a question within the domain of normative ethics. The science around this question might help frame the issue by assessing things like harm, risk, or feasibility, but it does little to adjudicate the “rightness” or “wrongness.” In what follows, I will explicate an argument for the rightness of savior siblings proposed by Michelle Taylor-Sands (Savior Siblings and Collective Family Interests), which might be analyzed further as an argument from “special” obligations. Although I think Taylor-Sands has the right approach by investigating the nature of obligations, I think she comes to the wrong conclusion; in effect, my aim is to argue against the sort of “rightness” of savior sibling proposed by Taylor-Sands.

Let us begin with a (fairly crude) outline of Taylor-Sands’ argument. She pushes back on harm arguments that savior siblings are harmed in one way or another, and that therefore the creation of savior siblings is wrong. develops her argument by basing welfare on human flourishing and drawing a picture of how a child’s welfare is “inextricably connected” (122) to the general welfare of the family unit. With these pieces in place, she can argue that a savior sibling is engaging in a shared familial project to save another family member.

This is all very quick, so let us further dissect what the relevant moral players in Taylor-Sands’ argument. First, there is a dilemma: we have a positive duty to help sick children (especially if it is your child), but we also have a negative duty (ceteris paribus) to not cause harm. Here are the popular ways of dealing with this dilemma: (1) argue that the negative duty (tout court) to cause harm outweighs the positive duty to help (or argue vice versa), (2) argue savior siblings are not harmed and that there is no dilemma, or (3) argue that the consequences of subscribing to one duty permissibly outweigh the other duty (and its consequences). Second, Taylor-Sands argues that the “we” in the dilemma is not restricted to the parents but also includes the savior sibling. This is important because it might dissolve the second horn of the dilemma by shifting the “harm to others” to “harm to oneself”; as such, the issue becomes a matter of self-sacrifice on the part of the savior sibling for the sake of helping a sick sibling. Third, to establish that the “we” in the dilemma includes the savior sibling, Taylor-Sands provides a story about how the welfare (construed as general “flourishing” (126-128)) of the savior sibling is tied to their family.

Grounding duties within the family unit is to say that there are duties which apply to a “special” subset of people, namely, family members. We have duties we owe to all people, say, not to cause harm; however, we often say we have a “special” duty to (say) look after our elderly parents. Taylor-Sands thinks that savior siblings have these sorts of duties to their siblings (and obliquely to their parents). The general content of these duties all relate to promote the flourishing of the family which consequently benefits all family members. Taylor-Sands thinks that since savior siblings are the savior sibling’s welfare is “inextricably connected” to the welfare of the family, the savior sibling would obviously want to further the welfare of the family. There are two questions I would like to raise which point to some problematic areas of this story: first, is the savior sibling’s welfare really inextricably linked to the family’s welfare; and, a second related question, by merely speculating on what the savior sibling would do, is there a worry about the savior sibling’s autonomy?

I am sympathetic to Taylor-Sands’ approach to this topic of savior siblings, but I think she makes a mistake by grounding special obligations in mutual welfare. Barring this issue, we might still have a picture of a savior sibling’s defeasible (or pro tanto) duty to their family, but we need some further motivation or justification for believing that these duties hamper autonomy for the right reasons. Perhaps a better “relational” model might not need to appeal to mutual welfare. It might say that the duties we have to our family members are primary and more familiar to us than natural duties (i.e. duties we owe to everyone and which we have no say in accepting or denying).

Sample Cover Letter: In-house Tech

I am a second-year law student at Osgoode Hall Law School and I am writing to express my interest in a summer position at [●]. I am immediately drawn to [●] dedication to fostering the growth of its employees through mentorship and professional development programs.

In my role as a Senior Associate at the Ontario Medical Association, I oversaw the nominations and election procedures for over 40,000 medical professionals across the province. Noticing a need for streamlining the election process, I modernized the election process using business intelligence tools, especially in database management and data visualization through reports, summaries, and dashboards. I gained a deep appreciation for how much dedication and scrutiny is required to produce high-quality work under strict time constraints and advancing corporate strategy, which fostered a keen eye to detail and scrutiny in analysis. 

In addition to my full-time job, I cultivated my passion for innovation and project management through starting Safe6ix, an e-commerce store specializing in personal alarms. Through this experience, I developed strong business acumen and creativity. When starting out, I made the cost-effective decision to target local markets in the city when overcoming a heavily saturated market proved challenging. Using a client-focused lens, I successfully developed community and business partnerships and leveraged connections to establish a client list. Leveraging my experience in market research, I developed a long-term digital marketing strategy based on A/B testing social media advertisements. This experience was particularly crucial for equipping me with the ability to develop detailed work plans, establish timelines, and navigate unique challenges. I hope to leverage my experience in data analysis and project management to the intersection of law and business, especially within the corporate setting. I believe my passionate for technology and innovation coupled with my background in research makes me the ideal candidate for this role.

During my time at Osgoode Hall Law School, I have started to build practical legal skills through my extracurriculars. As the Business Manager of the school newspaper, Obiter Dicta, I was tasked with auditing and consolidating their finances to ensure that student fees are used effectively and ethically. I conducted negotiations with staff to develop a comprehensive and mutually agreeable funding plan on an annual basis. Such communication skills were also key in my role as Head of Sponsorship role in the National First Generation Network, particularly in securing funding and curating new partnerships with firms for all school chapters across Canada. I am drawn to the prospect of cultivating my interest in the intersection of law, innovation, and business. I am eager to contribute my entrepreneurial experience coupled with my background in research and data analysis.

Thank you for your consideration. I believe I can make a valuable contribution to the team at [●], and I look forward to hearing from you.

Sample Cover Letter: Social Justice Law

I am a second-year law student at Osgoode Hall Law School and I am writing to express my interest in a summer position at [●]. After receiving my permanent residence, I carried a strong interest in how these issues could be remedied, particularly at a global level given the transnational nature of migration. I further developed on these ideas at the graduate level through a seminar on the ethics of migration. Here, I strengthened my passion for studying the complex, multidimensional interactions between social institutions, globalism, unequal power relations, colonialism, and the historical roots of current issues. Given the rate of globalisation, the modernization of the economy, and the exponential growth of technology, the platform of international and transnational law are particularly timely and relevant, as it carries immense potential in governing these issues. Through this program, I strive to further develop specialized knowledge of international and transnational law through policy analysis, advocacy, research, and praxis. A strong point of consideration for me is the hands-on experience offered by the program, which allows the opportunity to apply knowledge areas. I am drawn to the opportunity to connect with peers and professionals within a diverse, collaborative, transnational setting, to cultivate discussions and synthesise ideas which I believe is crucial for social change.

I aspire to bring with me my strong communication, research, and analytical thinking competencies, honed through my graduate studies, to engage in critical discussions with a diverse body of peers and professionals. My skills as a researcher are an asset to the development of evidence-based policy. I am thoroughly experienced in researching relevant scholarly material in scientific journals, legal textbooks, and statistical databases. In addition, my academic discipline has honed my writing to be clear, comprehensive, and concise. Finally, I have presented my work to audiences beyond areas philosophy, such as interdisciplinary conferences, and this shows research versatility. My interests in the issues surrounding public policy push me to understand the moral, legal, and political ramifications of specific policies through my graduate studies. I learned to juggle the deadlines of graduate courses, working on original research, and teaching students.

Alongside my research, I worked as a Teaching Assistant over four courses, where I had the opportunity to guide students through complex topics, such as global health ethics, the ethics of war and torture, and the legal theory of international law. In particular, I played a key role in leading lectures and small-group discussions which encouraged students to engage in critical thinking and pose questions on the underlying root causes of structural issues in the contemporary world, while acknowledging assumptions, and privileges. Upon graduation, I joined the Ontario Medical Association (OMA) as a Senior Associate where I oversaw the organization’s election process. I coordinated the nominations and elections for over 40,000 members across Ontario, which involved developing, reviewing, and updating policy documents and by-laws around OMA governance and operations.

Sample Cover Letter: On Campus Interviews

I am a second-year law student at Osgoode Hall Law School and I am writing to express my interest in the 2021 Summer Student position at [●]. After speaking to previous Summer Students, I resonate with your firm’s culture of teamwork and excellence in the face of challenging work. I am especially drawn to [●]’s dedication to fostering growth through mentorship and professional development programs.

Prior to law school, I oversaw the internal governance election and nomination procedures for over 40,000 medical professionals across the province in my role as a Senior Associate at the Ontario Medical Association. I worked with the legal department to ensure compliance with governing statutes, the external stakeholders to promote member satisfaction, and the senior management to facilitate risk management. To streamline the election process, I modernized procedures by automating data analytics and implementing new business intelligence tools. Through this position, I gained a deep appreciation for the dedication and scrutiny required to produce high-quality work under strict time constraints.

During law school, I joined three law journals to build on the research skills that I gained from my Master’s degree. As an Associate Editor of the Osgoode Hall Law Journal, I developed strong legal research, drafting, and editing skills. To diversify my substantive knowledge and technical competencies, I took on an editorial role for the Intellectual Property Journal and the Transnational Legal Theory Journal. This past summer, I also worked with four Professors to assist with their research projects. I enjoyed the challenge of undertaking complex tasks and juggling multiple projects across various subject matters, from contracts to telecommunications law. I am confident that I can apply my attention to detail and legal analysis to the Summer Student position.

Since beginning my legal studies, I cultivated my interest in business through my extracurriculars. As the Business Manager of the school newspaper, Obiter Dicta, I audited and consolidated their books to ensure that student fees were used effectively, and I conducted negotiations with Obiter Dicta staff to develop a comprehensive annual funding plan. As the Head of Sponsorship at the National First Generation Network, I secured funding and curated new partnerships with firms for first generation law student programing. In response to funding shortages due to the pandemic, I organized new strategies to promote sponsorship, including firm recognition initiatives, pre-law scholarships, and government grants. This process of developing business relationships and initiating new projects has prepared me to be agile in problem solving and servicing a variety of client needs. I am eager to bring the same tenacity and adaptability to [●].

Thank you for your consideration and I look forward to hearing from you.

Sample Cover Letter: International Law Firm

I am a second-year law student at Osgoode Hall Law School and I am writing to express my interest in a summer position at [●]. My desire to join [●] is driven by the opportunity to join a passionate team at a leading, global law firm. I am immediately drawn to [●]’s dedication to fostering the growth of its employees through mentorship and professional development programs. With an academic curiosity in business law, I am interested in the cross-border, interdisciplinary nature of the firm’s mergers and acquisitions and transactional practice groups. I am especially drawn to the flexible structure of [●]’s summer programs, which will allow me to explore these areas further, while simultaneously exploring other practices.

I believe my ability adapt to changing environments, my attention to detail, and my comfort with solving problems under pressure will be an asset to [●]. During my graduate studies, I worked closely with faculty, authors, and peers to development new research projects in philosophy, and this resulted in my thesis focusing on ethics. I was further given the opportunity to be a Teaching Assistant for a pilot program that taught the fundamentals of ethics to business students. I enjoyed guiding students through dense philosophical texts and learned how to breakdown abstruse ideas into more manageable pieces. In my capacity as a Senior Associate at the Ontario Medical Association, I developed a technical expertise in business intelligence tools, especially in database management and data visualization through reports, summaries, and dashboards. I was entrusted to oversee the nominations and election procedures for over 40,000 medical professionals across the province. This role involved interdepartmental collaboration with respect to reviewing governance documents to ensure their compliance with governing statutes, stakeholder satisfaction, and risk management. From this experience, I learned how much dedication and scrutiny is required to produce high-quality work under strict time constraints and advancing corporate strategy.

During my time at Osgoode Hall Law School, I have started to build practical legal skills through my extracurriculars. As the Business Manager of the school newspaper, Obiter Dicta, I was tasked with auditing and consolidating their finances to ensure that student fees are used effectively and ethically. It was crucial to negotiate with the rest of the staff how an agreeable way to spend funds can be achieved. Such communication skills were also key for my Head of Sponsorship role in the National First Generation Network, particularly in securing funding and curating new partnerships with firms for all school chapters across Canada. As an Associate Editor of the Osgoode Hall Law Journal, I developed strong legal research, drafting, and editing skills. In order to diversify competency, I additionally took on editorial role for the Intellectual Property Journal and the Transnational Legal Theory Journal. Moreover, during my summer, I had the opportunity to work with four Professors to assist with each of their research projects. I enjoyed the challenge of undertaking increasingly complex tasks and juggling multiple projects. I intend to expand on my skills through participation in the Advanced Business Law Workshops in Corporate Finance and Mergers and Acquisitions, and I hope to further grow under the mentorship of [●].

Thank you for your consideration. I believe I can make a valuable contribution to the team at [●], and I look forward to hearing from you.

Sample Cover Letter: Supreme Court of Canada

I am pleased to submit this letter as a part of my application for a clerkship position with the Supreme Court of Canada. My chief contribution is my experience in research and writing. Prior to law school, I completed my Master of Arts degree in Philosophy, and my thesis primarily focused on ethics. This experience provided the opportunity to engage in interdisciplinary approaches to scholarship, particularly in areas of law, psychology, and sociology. I learned new ways to approach classical problems and, as a Teaching Assistant, this allowed me to analyze complex ideas into more manageable components for undergraduate students. During my first-year summer, I had the opportunity to assist four Professors with their research projects. Here, I further developed my legal research skills and enjoyed comparing nuanced lines of argumentation by judges, lawyers, and scholars. For example, Professor Jennifer Nadler’s work on contract law theory focused on the theory underlying the doctrine of expectation damages, while Professor Carissima Mathen’s work on Section 7 of the Charter focused on the theory underlying the principle of arbitrariness. These narrow issues gave me the opportunity to explore caselaw, commentary, and textbooks.

I continue to sharpen my research and writing skills through my law school extracurriculars. As an Associate Editor on the Osgoode Law Hall Journal, I reviewed and analyzed articles for publication. I also completed substantive checks of citations to ensure that they conformed to the McGill Guide. To expand the legal scholarship I engaged with, I took on an editorial role for the Intellectual Property Journal and the Transnational Legal Theory Journal. In these roles, I provided substantive feedback on preliminary drafts and copyedited final versions for publication. My exposure to diverse scholarship has renewed my passion for the importance of advocacy, the complexity of social justice issues, and the varied nature of policy reform.

Studying both philosophy and law has led me to consider how questions of ethical, political, and economic theory have a role in illuminating judicial decision-making. Currently, I am interested in tracking normative moral claims in the law, especially in contract law theory, theories of criminal punishment, and Section 7 of the Charter. I am confident that my research skills and enthusiasm for legal analysis would be a valuable asset for the clerkship program.

Draft Essay: Filial Obligations — Revisiting the Friendship Theory

Most of us agree that we have some special duties to our parents, and these duties seem weightier than what we owe to our friends. We might have a duty to pay our parent’s medical bills, but we do not have the same duty to pay our friend’s medical bills; such a friend would be acting from generosity and supererogation, or beyond the call of duty. But why do we owe these things to our parents? You might say that you owe it to them because they sacrificed just as much in raising you, or you might point to the special relationship you have with you parents. Following this intuition, there have been three main suggested theories of filial duty: the Debt Theory, the Gratitude Theory, and the Friendship Theory. Recently, Simon Keller (2006) proposed a Special Goods Theory, stating that our filial duties arise from parents and children being able to provide “special goods” to one another – that is, goods which can be provided only by child or parent. Brynn Welch (2012) identified some counterintuitive cases in Keller’s theory, and added some amendments which resulted in the Gratitude for Special Goods Theory.

However, both of these “special goods” theories, along with their predecessors, have the issue of being too stringent. On these views, filial duties are “weighty,” they demand much, and interfere with our plans and projects; in other words, these theories suggest that they “override almost everything else” (Welch, 726). This issue requires a closer look into the nature of these filial duties, which consequently requires a closer look at their structure and motivation. Diane Jeske (2001) offers a unique perspective of how the reasons behind intimate relationships can be “objective” and “agent-relative” by using an analogy to one’s relation to one’s future self. This paper will use Jeske’s concepts to supplement the Friendship Theory with the “weightiness” of filial duties. On this new model of the Friendship Theory, filial duties are analogous to duties of friendship, and therefore less weighty; however, the intuition that filial duties ought to be more stringent are captured by reducing them to projects (I call this the “familial project”). Although projects are within the domain of permission and supererogation,[1] the intuition that filial duties ought to be more stringent is not undercut if, following Jeske, we see this “familial project” as  “objective” and “agent-relative,” which are “weightier” than other projects. This model captures our normative intuition of filial duties within the Friendship Theory, making this theory tenable and comprehensive.

Debt Theory, Gratitude Theory, and Friendship Theory

Before looking at the Special Goods theory and the Gratitude for Special Goods theory, I will quickly gloss over the other competing theories prominent in the literature. My exposition of these other theories is only aimed at providing context for the contemporary “special goods” theories.  Starting with the Debt Theory, it claims that parent-child relation is analogous[2] to the creditor-debtor relation. Parents provide various resources, like financial support, time or effort to rearing a child. The debt theory says that all of these goods provided by a parent are on credit, and that the child is in debt to the parent which they must repay. In essence, filial duties are the child’s duties to pay their debts back to their parents.

Filial duties, however, seem to be different from a duty to repay a debt in several ways. First, filial duties do not look like they can be “discharged, once and for all.” (Keller, 256) Imagine if a parent’s services were reduced to a monetary amount, say, one-million-dollars; it seems wrong to think that a child can pay one-million-dollars to this parent and be released from any subsequent familial duties. Second, filial duties do not have the same proportionality concerns as duties of debt might have. That is, “you may have been a healthy and angelic child, undemanding and a delight to nurture,” (Keller, 256) but that does not mean you have weaker filial duties, whereas on the Debt Theory you might have a smaller debt.[3] Third, filial duties are sensitive to the relationship itself. The parent-child relationship can be affected by some irreconcilable differences, and this can leave the child with fewer filial duties, whereas duties of debt would be insensitive to these changes in the relationship. By and large, duties of debt do not seem to be adequately analogous to filial duties.  

The Gratitude Theory claims that “to fulfill your filial duties is to perform appropriate acts of gratitude in response to the good things your parents have done for you” (Keller, 257). The Gratitude Theory meets the proportionality concerns of the debt theory because gratitude is less strict about proportionality. If somebody saved your life, duties of gratitude do not demand you to be their personal servant or take a bullet for them.  The duty of gratitude might be satisfied by something as small as a nice dinner or at least something proportionally smaller than the price of one’s life. The gratitude theory seems much more plausible than the debt theory so far.

The criticism with the gratitude theory is that it, too, fails to capture our intuitions of filial duties. First, there is a similar proportionality concern with the gratitude theory. Gratitude might be lax in its demands to reciprocate proportionally, but it still asks to give gratitude in some proportional manner. Again, if filial duties were analogous to duties of gratitude, they would demand less if you were “undemanding and a delight to nurture,” and demand more if you were a little hell-raiser. This seems counterintuitive to notions of filial duties because filial duties are thought to be indifferent to these proportionality concerns. Second, filial duties are “ongoing and open-ended, and can be very demanding,” (Keller, 260) whereas duties of gratitude are not. The general thought here is that gratitude fails to capture the weight of the demands of familial duties. If a parent fell deathly ill, filial duties might demand that the child invest significant amounts of time and money for their parents, even more than what is demanded by the duties of gratitude. In contrasts, duties of gratitude might be discharged with a card, a bottle of wine, or whatever, and one might be subsequently released from the duty; however, filial duties seem to go on for a lifetime, and cannot be discharged and released. Again, duties of gratitude are not analogous to filial duties.

The Friendship Theory claims that filial duties are analogous to duties of friendship. Friendships are aimed at sustaining an ongoing relationship rather than meeting duties of debt or gratitude. This view meets the proportionality concerns because friendships do not require strict reciprocity. It would be odd to think that friends keep a record of every benefit bestowed on one another; in fact, this would be the sign of a bad friendship. Friendships rather have the general positive duty to care for the well-being of one another. By and large, Friendship Theory is more tenable than the Gratitude Theory and the Debt Theory.

The Friendship Theory seems like the most plausible account of filial duties. But again, there are reasons to think that the analogy fails. Like families, friendships can have fallouts and disagreements which change their respective duties. However, families are more demanding in that reasons which affect friendship duties do not apply with familial duties. For instance, paying the medical bills of a parent appears to be a duty whereas paying the medical bill of a friend appears not to be a duty. Friendship duties are less demanding and do not seem to be completely analogous to filial duties.

Special Goods Theory and the Gratitude for Special Goods Theory

Keller’s Special Goods theory does away with analogies altogether. According to Keller, filial duties should be understood on “its own distinctive terms” (Keller, 265). The other theories fail because the family relationship is a different kind of relationship than the friendship or debtor-creditor relation. The family relationship is unique and gives rise to its own sui generis duties. The idea here is there are unique (“special”) goods and needs which can only be provided and satisfied by reciprocity between parent and child. This is not to be confused with generic goods, like your mother cooking you dinner or helping your mother move furniture. A special good, for instance, can be a parent’s “sense of continuity and transcendence, a feeling that they will, in some respect, persist beyond their own deaths” (Keller, 267).[4] Another is a child’s “special value in having a parent from whom to seek advice” (Keller, 267). A less starry-eyed example is the comfort of having someone who is “committed to ensuring that your needs and interests will be met.” (Keller, 267) A child then has filial duties because the parent-child relationship bestows special goods to them and they have duties within that relationship to bestow special goods to their parents.

It looks like this theory does better than its alternatives. It can explain why filial duties are “ongoing and open-ended” because parents will have special needs as long as they are alive. It explains the proportionality concern by making it irrelevant; that is, as long as the conditions of a good (on the “special goods” picture) family are met, the aim becomes providing special goods without tally, like the Friendship Theory. It can also explain the demands of filial duties and why they cannot be easily escaped. If the aim of filial duties is to provide special goods, then it does not matter how great the special needs are; moreover, terminating the relationship does not change the duties arising from these special needs.

However, Welch raises problematic cases for the Special Goods theory. An “elderly woman suffering from dementia requires medical care, and she has a wealthy daughter who can provide such care for her” (Welch, 728). According to the Special Goods theory, the daughter has no duty to care for the mother since the mother cannot reciprocate the contributions of special goods with the daughter.  Welch’s complaint is that Keller’s view “cannot offer a reasonable, theoretical limit to filial obligations” (Welch, 728). Another problem case, “the Abandonment Case,” (Welch, 727) is of a mother who selfishly abandons her daughter and is reunited to now provide her daughter with special goods. Here, the daughter seems to have filial duties to this negligent mother. It seems counterintuitive to say that the daughter owes less in the first case than the second.

Welch offers an alternative hybrid theory to settle these issues with the Special Goods Theory: the Gratitude for Special Goods Theory. This theory stipulates the value of providing special goods in the past, and further adds the following new condition to the Special Goods theory: “expressing gratitude by meeting the parent’s needs would not undermine the mutual respect on which moral relationships are based” (Welch, 730). Applied to the Abandonment Case, it releases the daughter from her duties to the mother because an expression of gratitude would violate the new clause.

A criticism Welch must deal with is that filial duties are too weighty and demand too much from us. Filial duties may ask us to devote unreasonable amounts of effort to our parents. A move to deal with this problem is to argue that excessive self-sacrifice is a failure of self-respect. Perhaps we want to say that some “serious”[5] projects take priority over filial duties. Keller writes that “the child’s duties to provide special goods to the parent should not be such as seriously to impede the child’s ability to live a good life” (Keller, 269). But little argument is provided for this, and we can think of problem cases, for instance, where a child makes various serious projects to escape filial duties. Where does this leave the force of filial duties? Surely some serious projects ought to be put aside for filial duties, but which ones? It seems there is some worry to one’s autonomy if we purport that the push of filial duties override all other endeavors. The rest of this paper will explore this issue.

“Familial Project” Theory

It seems counterintuitive to say that all instances of serious projects are precluded by filial duties to provide special goods, as “special goods” theories suggest. Perhaps familial duties really should override everything else, and it might be an entirely western view which places undue importance on individualism. This seems farfetched, as autonomy is generally very important to us. Or perhaps one might want to endorse some perfectionist account of the value of being a virtuous person outweighing the value of personal projects – this, however, seems equally unconvincing. On the other hand, to allow serious projects to take priority over filial duties may be a serious precedence to set, and may undercut the force of filial duties. This is an issue from the Friendship Theory, namely, that it fails to reflect the robust nature of familial duties. Friendships can change, grow apart and the duties of friendship correspondingly fade, but filial duties are not like that – filial duties appear to be more robust in the sense that they more resilient to change and have stronger demands.

The Friendship Theory may not match our intuition of filial duties, but perhaps it is too early to jettison this theory altogether. There is a worry that familial duties are not acquired voluntarily. Nobody chooses to be in a family yet everybody has filial duties thrust upon them, and these filial duties can affect choices, plans, and projects, and (ipso facto) impede autonomy. Duties of friendship, on the other hand, seem to be voluntarily taken when one voluntarily enters into the relationship. This might be further motivation for taking the Friendship Theory, but we need an explanation of its counterintuitive results if it is to be a comprehensive theory. Before sketching this new Friendship Theory, we must first explicate some concepts offered by Jeske.

Jeske analyzes the reasons for entering and maintaining friendships, and recognizes two sets of distinctions: “subjective” and “objective,” and “agent-relative” and “agent-neutral.” First, subjective reasons are reasons for an agent to desire (or to bring about) a state of affairs, whereas objective reasons are agent neutral. (Jeske, 330) Subjective reasons are thought of as “agent-relative,” meaning one’s reasons (per se) for promoting a state of affairs are not reasons for anybody else. My liking for a particular chair, for instance, might be subjective agent-relative because my reason for liking it are not reasons for you to like it. In contrast, objective reasons are thought of as “agent-neutral,” meaning they are reasons for everyone; to go back to the illustration, perhaps there is a chair with universally appealing features, like perfect lumbar support. Jeske suggests that the reasons for friendships are unique because they are “objective” and “agent-relative.”

What does it mean for a reason to be objective and agent-relative? Jeske uses a parallel case to illustrate. She relates the relationship one has to one’s future self as a case of objective agent-relative reasons. Private projects have reference to a particular agent, and one’s self in the distant future will have private projects that differ from one’s present self. One’s present projects are subjective agent-relative, but it would not be appropriate to call the projects of one’s future self “subjective,” because subjectivity is defined by current values. (Jeske, 342) Reasons one has to one’s future self are objective agent-relative reasons, and can be analogous to reasons of intimacy. Taking into account the subjective agent-relative reasons of a friend in one’s deliberative process is to treat them as objective because they belong to your friend and not yourself. As it follows, reasons can be both objective and agent relative.

Jeske’s picture offers a richer foundation to reply to the criticism of the Friendship Theory. My view is not committed to Jeske’s overall view of friendships and duties; rather I borrow her distinctions, particularly objective agent-relativity. To reiterate the issue at hand, the main objection to the friendship theory is that it does not match our intuitions of filial duties. Filial duties seem more stringent than duties of friendship; again, duties of friendship can be released on laxer grounds than filial duties, and duties of friendship seem to be less demanding. Let us begin by distilling our notions of filial duties from our duties of friendship, demarcating the duties of friendship from the(sui generis) filial duties. Let us further generalize duties of friendship to something along the lines of “to care for each other’s well-being,” and call everything else (the weightiness, the robustness, the stringency, etc.) “mere familial duties.” My suggestion is that “mere familial duties” are to be understood as an objective agent-relative “familial project,” although projects are commonly understood to be subject and agent-relative. This of course makes filial duties not duties at all; rather, they are within the realm of permissions. This leaves only the duties of friendship to be duties proper, meaning they are objective and agent-neutral. Let us take a closer look at this view.

To begin, it may be helpful to clarify the features of a “project.” Projects have a feature of intentionality, meaning there is some goal or aim which generates actions; moreover, this goal can be open-ended and subject to change. For instance, a private project of mine could be to become a better philosopher, and this leads me to read more philosophy. There is no “end” to becoming a better philosopher, and it is entirely possible for me to change this goal to becoming a better philosopher of religion. Goals or aims direct action in prudential ways, and can generate pro tanto rules or constraints. If my aim was to train to win a marathon, it might generate rules which are prudent to follow, such as running ten miles every day; however, perhaps if I only have time to run five miles today, I would feel disappointment or compunction. Projects can also be shared among people – for example, when a community comes together to raise money for a cause. Again, failure of prudential actions is met with a feeling of guilt, not in moral failure but a failure to bring about better results.

The familial project is a project of shared narrative. The aim is to preserve the family unit and foster its continuation. Let me explain this without appealing to neo-Darwinian principles or some collectivistic normative theory.[6] I think this is where the Special Goods Theory can help. “Special” goods, previously distinguished from “generic” goods, are particular to family members having special needs. There is a mutual understanding that special needs can only be satisfied within the family unit. With this mutual understanding, a common project is formed to meet these needs through the shared project. With this project, there are prudential rules to follow, and these are the “mere familial duties” which are conflated with duties of friendship. Due to the diversity of special needs, the family unit must be sustained and preserved. One might begin with a special need of a parent with wisdom and knowledge, then a special need to be taken care of, and a further special need to have some continuity after death through children or grandchildren.

The familial project is properly understood as objective and agent-relative, and not subjective and agent-relative. The shared project is agent-relative in that it only applies to the particular members of a family, yet it is objective because the familial project is not a project contrived by me. There is an element of externality to the familial project because I am merely a subscriber to the project and not the provider. Private projects are subjective because they are built around what I value. There is a sense in which I similarly value the familial project, but this seems incidental because other private projects often conflict with the familial project.[7]

When projects conflict, we assess the motivation for subscribing to projects and see how important they are to us. This weighing of the options and subscribing to projects is within the realm of permissions and has no (ceteris paribus) moral bearing. Again, thinking of a daughter who chooses to travel the world rather than help with her mother’s medical bills, it seems the daughter is callous and doing something wrong. But one must keep in mind that weighing the options is difficult; there is still a realm of regret, doubt, and compunction. On this view, she has no strict duty to choose the option of helping her sick mother, and her choosing to do so would be beyond the call of duty. This might be a novel case since the daughter’s private project of travelling the world seems obviously outweighed by her familial project, but more serious cases may shed light on the importance of having the freedom to choose between projects.

The motivation for taking this view is that on the “special goods” theories filial duties seem stringent enough to violate one’s autonomy. Familial duties can preclude other projects that are genuinely important to us and living a good life. Arguments from self-respect, which say that being concerned only about meeting familial needs violates respect to oneself, leave room for problem cases where self-respect is not violated but familial duties ask us to sacrifice important projects. This is the motivation for casting off familial duties and reframing them as mere projects. Weighing projects leaves room for autonomy. The familial project is also important to add to the picture because the friendship theory seems too lax. Duties of friendship alone are often not enough to motivate certain actions.

It is possible to make a further ambitious claim that is not an essential piece of my argument, but might suggest another motivation for taking this view. Jeske suggests at the end of her paper that “a mark of moral reasons” (Jeske, 345) is the fact that they are objective rather than subjective. Since on this view, the familial project is objective, it may suggest that they have a quasi-ethical role in affecting our actions. This might sound like a case of “having your cake and eating it too,” as this might fall into the pitfalls of the other theories of filial duties and violate autonomy; however, we still have the choice of subscribing to the familial project, whereas we would not have the choice to take on filial duties on the other theories. In any case, this is just a complementary motivation for my argument, and its only use would be to give more weight to familial projects when they conflict with private projects.

Theories preceding the “special goods” theories have been counterintuitive to our notions of filial duties in one way or another. The “special goods” theories, however, have the issue of being too weighty and plausibly restricting autonomy. The Friendship Theory’s fault was that it was not stringent enough, but we can build a model which contains the intuitions of mere familial duties within the familial project. My suggested theory amounts to a return to the Friendship Theory and while explaining away the counterintuitive aspects. This is more than just a descriptive account of how to settle the autonomy worry. It makes the stronger claim that other theories of filial duties are mistaken in their normative grounding. Filial duties proper are analogous to the mere duties of friendship.

Sources

Jeske, Diane. (2001) “Friendship and Reasons of Intimacy.” Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, Vol. 63, No. 2, 329-346.

Keller, Simon. (2006) “Four Theories of Filial Duty.” The Philosophy Quarterly, Vol. 56, No. 223, 254-274.

Welch, Brynn F. (2012) “A Theory of Filial Obligations.” Social Theory and Practice, Vol 38, No. 4, 717-737.


[1] This claim might be contentious to some, but nothing of importance hinges on my narrow use of “projects.” 

[2] By “analogous,” I mean that they give rise to the same duties; I do not mean that they are the same type or kind of relationship.

[3] In response to the proportionality concern, some have tried to propose an “insurance theory,” which says that investments from the parent can yield duties indifferent to the proportionality of good bestowed by the parent. This theory fails for the same reasons: filial duties are not analogous to exchanging goods and services.

[4] The idea here is that parents (qua existential beings) gain some solace in their legacy through their child. Keller is not completely clear on the “specialness” of special goods, but there seem to be plausible examples of goods only attained by the relationship between children and parents (or vice versa). (Although, in principle, “special goods” relations can be instantiated in friendships and romantic relationships.

[5] “Serious” interests are not “basic” enough to impede on a good life, but not trivial (“peripheral”) enough that it is obviously outweighed by duty.

[6] I do not want to be committed to some innate need to protect the family unit or some culturally relative zealous value of the family unit.

[7] The ontology of the familial project is not a concern here.

Draft Essay: A Challenge to the Proper Basicality of Theism

Alvin Plantinga purports a “reformed epistemology” in his paper Is Belief in God Properly Basic? He says the modern foundationalist’s formulation of the criterion for proper basicality (viz. self-evident, incorrigible, or evident to the senses) fails because it is “self-referentially incoherent.” He then says that one does not need a criterion for proper basicality to rationally or justifiably believe that something is properly basic. This is met with two objections: groundlessness or gratuitousness, and arbitrariness. Plantinga answers these objections by saying that rather than appealing to a criterion, we can use an inductive approach of using a relevant set of examples. He then applies all this to theistic belief. I argue that this approach cannot be applied to theism because one cannot arrive at a rational relevant set of examples. More specifically, Platinga’s principle of “relevance” fails to account for contradictory examples, which consequently makes belief in God arbitrary.

Plantinga begins by contextualizing his thesis. He says that those who object to theism and those who affirm theism both do so on the basis of evidence. This evidentialist approach is based upon classical foundationalism, which says some propositions are properly basic, while others are based on evidence tracing back to propositions that are properly basic. Properly basic beliefs are beliefs which are not based on another belief; conversely, beliefs that are not properly basic are accepted on the basis of evidence. Evidentialists think theists violate normative standards of rationality by believing in the existence of God without sufficient evidence. If a belief is irrational – that is, not based on evidence – then it should be rejected. Moreover, evidentialists minimally think that God is not a properly basic belief. Plantinga argues the contrary, namely, he argues that belief God is properly basic.

Plantinga also rejects the modern foundationalist approach[1]. He tells us that the modern foundationalist’s criterion for proper basicality is “self-referentially incoherent.” Their criterion is as such: “For any proposition A and person S, A is properly basic for S if and only if A is incorrigible for S or self-evident to S.” In essence, Plantinga says that the criterion itself fails to meet its own criterion.

In refining his views, Plantinga deals with two objections to the claim that belief in God is properly basic: groundlessness (or gratuitousness), and arbitrariness. First, basic beliefs are not groundless because there is some “circumstance or condition that confers justification.” For instance, for perceptual judgements, there are conditions that justify taking a judgement as basic – for example, in seeing a tree, the condition would include the characteristics of that tree being “appeared to” in a certain fashion. It has a “characteristic sort of experience” which acts as a “grounds” for justification.  Similarly, we may have the same grounds, the same justifying conditions for belief in God – to name a few, “guilt, gratitude, danger, a sense of God’s presense, a sense that he speaks, perception of various parts of the universe.” These do not amount to the belief in God’s existence, but merely belief in propositions such as, “God is speaking to me,” or, “God forgives me,” which ipso facto entail God’s existence.

The next objection Plantinga deals with is arbitrariness. The objection is as follows: because the reformed epistemologist rejects the criteria for proper basicality, she is committed to supposing anything can be properly basic. Plantinga argues that it is possible to eliminate arbitrary and meaningless basic beliefs without a criterion. Consider, again, the basic belief from the perceptual judgement, “I see a tree”.  There must be a way to eliminate, without a criterion, the prima facie basic belief: “I am hallucinating that I am seeing a tree.”

For Plantinga, the proper way to arrive at a criterion for proper basicality, that is not self-referentially incoherent, is by induction; or in other word, it must be “argued to and tested by a relevant set of examples.” For instance, perhaps we have the “grounds” for justifying the preceding events as properly basic: “I remember waking up this morning,” “I remember walking to the park,” and “the park ranger is telling me to watch out for trees.” These examples can give us a framework for properly basicality which we may use to inductively infer the proper basicality of the proposition, “I see a tree,” and dismiss the proposition, “I am hallucinating that I am seeing a tree.” Reformed thinkers, Plantings says, can hold that “certain propositions are not properly basic in certain conditions.” He adds that not “everyone will agree on the examples.” In the case of theistic belief, the “Christian community is responsible to its set of examples.” Granted, the theist would need to discern the “neighbourhood” of conditions which justify and ground belief in God, and demarcate such beliefs from irrational beliefs (like the existence of the Great Pumpkin).

Plantinga suggests that the relevant set of examples to justify a properly basic belief in God is derived from a Calvinistic sensus divinitatis. This is a “sense of divinity” which is akin to perception in that it is a faculty that can sense the divine; specifically, “God has implanted us to see his hand in the world around us.” As such, the “grounds,” or conditions for justifying the proposition “God is hearing my prayers” is the sensus divinitatis. In effect, we can gather similar instances to give us an inductive framework for properly basicality, and we can subsequently apply this framework to eliminate irrational propositions, like “there exists a Great Pumpkin.” Plantinga admits that one may object to the notion of an ingrained sensus divinitatis; yet, this irrelevant because what is in question is how rational the theist is in her belief in God, and she would readily attest to the notion of sensus divinitatis. In other words, the set of relevant examples regarding the “grounds” for justification may differ between the theist and the atheist, but they are both rational in their respective beliefs so long as they have proper “grounds.”

However, the issue is that propositions like “God is hearing my prayers” cannot be distinguished from the proposition “I merely have the feeling that God hears my prayers.” They entail two contradictory propositions: “God exists,” and, minimally, “I do not know if God exists.” Even if one accepts the sensus divinitatis as a “grounds” for justification, one cannot determine which proposition is more salient since all of the relevant sets of examples have the same issue. For whatever example is used – whether it is a sense of forgiveness or a sense of guilt – a contradictory example can be thought of which stipulates that one has the mere feeling of the sensus divinitatis. As such, it is not possible to come up with an inductive framework for proper basicality with satisfactory examples to eliminate irrational propositions, like “there exists a Great Pumpkin,” as not properly basic.

I have attempted to give an adequate account of Plantinga’s views. For the most part, I did not attack Plantinga’s general method; rather, I challenged Plantinga’s application of the sensus divinitatis to his inductive approach. To be charitable, perhaps the sensus divinitatis can somehow distinguish between the two contradictory propositions. But this seems highly ad hoc. Anywhere the sensus divinitatis goes wrong, it can be attributed to human fallibility. This may be a satisfactory explanation for the theist who has a first-hand account of the sensus divinitatis, just as it may be sensible for somebody with clairvoyant powers to maintain that information from their clairvoyant faculty is properly basic – of course, there is a way to verify the accuracy of one’s clairvoyant powers, and no way to verify one’s sensus divinitatis. In any case, somebody without direct access to such faculties would rightly question its warrant as rational grounds for belief.

Source

Plantinga, Alvin. “Is Belief in God Properly Basic?” (1981) Nous 15: 41-52


[1] Modern foundationalism is a subset of classical foundationalism – the other, according to Plantinga, being “ancient and medieval foundationalism.”

Draft Essay: Godwin, Cottingham, Baron, and the Partialist Challenge to Consequentialist Moral Impartialism

This paper attempts to outline the partialist challenge to consequentialist moral impartialism by drawing from the works of William Godwin, John Cottingham, and Marcia Baron. The aim is to situate the discussion between these writers and provide a brief (and somewhat crude) overview of the dialectic. Finally, I will develop some reasons to adopt a distinction between impersonal and personal morality, and how the distinction may alleviate some tensions between the partialism and impartialism.

Godwin’s model of utilitarianism seems to demand complete impartiality. Godwin tells us that it is our duty to maximize “the benefit of the whole.” (40) Obviously the whole entails the part – that is, a population consists of an aggregate of individuals – yet, actions that seem to be prudent on an individual basis may not maximize the benefit on the grander scale. Every decision must be tested by its contribution of maximizing benefit to the whole, and apart from this, other factors are of little relevance. We can thus evaluate decisions on the basis of how much a decision contributes to the benefit of the whole.

This model implies that certain individuals are of “more worth and importance than the other.” (41) Godwin considers a scenario where we are forced to choose between the life of the archbishop of Cambrai and the life of his chambermaid. Here we have some salient intuition[1] that we should save the archbishop. This is consistent with Godwin’s model that the archbishop contributes more to the benefit of the whole; in his words, “that life ought to be preferred which will be most conducive to the general good.” (41) Perhaps we would let the archbishop die if the chambermaid was our mother or wife. He famously remarks, “What magic is there in the pronoun ‘my’ to overturn the decision of everlasting truth.” (42) Godwin says that the chambermaid being our mother or wife does not “alter the truth” (42) of the principle of maximizing the good of the whole. It looks like relational properties have little relevance on Godwin’s picture.

Nevertheless, relational properties have some relevance for Godwin insofar as it helps us with the application of his principle to our day-to-day activities.[2] He considers a scenario where somebody in need asks for money, but it is not entirely clear if it maximizes the good of the whole. Godwin answers, “if only one person offer himself to my knowledge of search, to me there is but one.” (47) Godwin understands that we cannot omnisciently apply his principle, so the fact that some individual makes their needs known to us is relevant for the application of his principle.[3]

Let us now look at a partialist challenge against consequentialist moral impartialism. [4] Baron’s quip on the matter is that “partiality is shortchanged.” (836) This is particularly true when it comes to personal relationships, which appear to “thrive on partial treatment.” (837) The worry is that impartialism precludes the possibility of personal relationships. Partialists want room for the special treatment of some individuals, but this conflicts with the impartialist’s agenda. As Baron suggests, Godwin’s type of consequentialist moral impartialism seems to be the prime target for the partialist’s challenge. Indeed, the partialist would say, “my relation, my companion, or my benefactor will of course in many instances obtain an uncommon portion of my regard,” (43) to which Godwin replies, “This compulsion however is founded only the present imperfection of human nature.” (43) It is clear that the detached impartialist outlook ought to always take priority over the partialist’s treatment loved ones.

An argument that the partialists bring is that it would be absurd to hold a moral theory that ignores the significance of personal relationships. We have a salient intuition that the fact that person “X” is my child has significance on how I act as a moral agent. For instance, Cottingham says that impartiality frowns upon tending to our sick child when we could be making a “greater contribution to human welfare by helping any other child in greater need of care and attention.” (88) This aspect of impartialism – that is, asking us to ignore personal relationships to maximize the good of the whole – appears to be unacceptable.  A moral theory should be rich enough to capture our basic moral intuitions.

Cottingham coins the impartialist’s positions as the “impartiality thesis.”[5] Godwin’s view seems to fit the mold. As earlier outlined, Godwin suggests that we should be blind to the fact that person “X” is our friend, mother, or child. Godwin goes further and says that we cannot show preferential treatment to ourselves; that if “I can promote the general good by my death […] I should be content to die.” (46) Even my personal projects should solely be directed for the general good, not a “shilling at the will of […] caprice,” and that I should “maintain my body and my mind in the utmost vigor and in the best condition for service.” (46) Cottingham thinks all this leads to “repugnant and absurd consequences which ultimately threaten the very basis of our humanity.” (83)

Cottingham has two challenges for the impartialist: first, is impartialism consistent with our psychology; second, if it is consistent, is it the right model for moral decisions? The first challenge takes an empirical form – namely, day-to-day life seems to indicate that impartiality is inconsistent with our general psychology. “To be a person […] implies the possession of plans, projects and desires,” (87) which all inevitably entail partiality towards oneself; moreover, friendships and family ties seem essential to us. The concern here is that various aspects of what is normally considered to be fundamental aspect of humanity are jettisoned. Perhaps adherence to the “impartiality thesis” is like asking us to have perfect memories or to never make mistakes.

Cottingham’s second challenge builds on his first. Hence, even if impartiality was feasible given human psychology, it does not follow that it is a good model to adopt. It is evident from our psychology that we value “special” (87) relationships with oneself and others. Conceptually, a “special” relationship “necessarily requires a certain exclusiveness: the concentration on particular individuals at the expense of others.” (89) If impartiality eliminates the “specialness” (90), then the impartialist model eliminates all “special” relationships. This leads to more absurd consequences – for instance, a parent giving no special attention to their child, which seems neglectful and contradictory to a parent’s duty. A proper model should not, as Cottingham puts it, “sever the crucial link between ethics and Eudaimonia, the good for man or human fulfillment.” (90)

Baron thinks Cottingham misinterprets Godwin. Baron suggests Godwin “never says that relational characteristics are per se morally irrelevant.” (840) Perhaps Godwin is not a staunch impartialist. As Baron puts it, “Godwin’s extreme views thus turn out to be based not primarily on a conception of impartiality or on moral notions which motivate it, such as fairness or equality.” (842) She thinks Godwin’s absurd conclusions are motivated by his “rather crude notion” (842) of utilitarianism. It is Godwin’s utilitarian principle of maximizing the good of the whole that overshadows any remnant of partialism. For instance, the chambermaid being my mother may significantly influence my decision to save her, but Godwin’s utilitarianism may have more robust demands that trump the significance of any relational properties. By and large, Baron’s approach is to demarcate Godwin’s utilitarianism from impartialism.

With this in mind, Baron believes Cottingham fails to distinguish “levels” (842) “at which impartiality might be deemed requisite.” (842) On this view, there are two levels of thinking: impartiality at the level of “rules or principles,” and impartiality at the level of deciding what to do in one’s “day-to-day activities.” (842) Baron thinks Cottingham’s “impartial standpoint” is ambiguous as to which level the impartiality thesis applies to. It would be fine if Cottingham’s thesis applies only to level 2 thinking, but some of his conclusions only work if they also apply to level 1 thinking; according to Baron, this is an unjustified jump, and Cottingham would need to provide a reason for saying impartiality as applied to level 2 thinking necessarily also applies to level 1 thinking as well.

All things considered, I find myself sympathetic to a view Baron opposes: namely, that personal relationships are only partly within the jurisdiction of impersonal morality, and in some special cases, completely independent of impersonal morality. Baron’s distinctions of levels for applying impartiality may even find extreme cases of partiality on the level of day-to-day activities excusable,[6] such as helping a friend dispose of a body; however, no interpretation would go as far as to require that one violate morality, that is, require that one help the friend dispose of a body. I think, however, there is some “specialness,” some je ne sais quoi, to certain relationships that make it completely independent of the realm of impersonal morality. For instance, if my wife, the woman I share this “specialness,” in her sane mind, asked me to help her dispose the body of a person she brutally murdered, I would find it my duty to oblige. This “specialness” might be called “love,” as described by C.S. Lewis, “Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person’s ultimate good as far as it can be obtained.” This might suggest that this morality qua “special” relationship also has a sort of consequentialist principle.[7]

What would this mean to the partialist challenge to consequentialist moral impartialism? The challenge would turn into a dilemma of which moral realm to appeal to for a verdict – that is, choosing between impersonal morality and personal morality. For instance, in Godwin’s case, we can say that impersonal morality demand that we save the archbishop over the unknown chambermaid; however, if that chambermaid was our wife, personal morality demands that we save her instead. 

Adjudication is beyond the scope of this paper, but aim of this paper is to develop the partialist challenge to consequentialist moral impartialism. We have seen one formulation of impartialism, in the form of Godwin’s utilitarianism, and one version of a challenge, provided by Cottingham’s two arguments; furthermore, we have seen Baron’s challenge to Cottingham’s challenge. Lastly, I provided some reasons to think that a distinction between personal and impersonal morality may have some use in this discussion.

References

Marcia Baron (1991), “Impartiality and Friendship,” Ethics 101(4): 836-857.

Godwin, W. (1798), ‘Enquiry concerning political justice’

John Cottingham (1983), “Ethics and Impartiality,” in Philosophical Studies 43(1): 83-99.


[1] By “salient intuition,” I mean something like a general idea or inclination of what the right course of action is. 

[2] I use some of Baron’s terms here because it is not far off from her “level” talk.

[3] The relational property in this case would be something like, “having knowledge of only this person’s specific need.”  

[4] For now, general definitions will suffice: partialism can be thought of as “being partial” (having certain exceptions or preference) when applying certain moral principles; the other camp, consequentialist moral impartialism, stipulates that one aim at the best consequence, without any exception. Impartialism can be looked at schematically, which in this case is applied to consequentialist principles.

[5] He states it as such: “when we are making moral decisions […], we ought not to give any special weight to our own desires and interests; instead of giving preferential treatment to ourselves, or to members of our own particular social group, we should try to adopt a neutral standpoint, detaching ourselves as far as possible from our own special desires and involvements.” (83)

[6] “Excusable” implying some degree of morality violation, whereas “permissible” would be morally neutral.

[7] Perhaps another illustration will reinforce my point. If a stranger were to ask me to hide a body, impersonal morality would demand that I turn them in. If this resulted in the stranger receiving the death penalty, I would not feel guilt but compunction – that is, some ill feeling, but not because I did something wrong. It may be more difficult to decide whether to appeal to personal or impersonal morality if a mere friend were to ask me to hide a body. If I turned the friend in and they were hanged because of it, I may again feel compunction because I did what impersonal morality demanded of me; however, I think that we are more inclined to feel guilt from personal morality.