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.