After Virtue Ch. 11-15

What sticks out initially in these chapters of After Virtue are MacIntyre’s comments on Aristotle and his discussion of telos and the good of man.  Our discussion in class on the “call no man happy until he is dead” quote brought us into the following question: How do we define what human life is or is supposed to be? If accurate time telling makes a good watch, can we find a functional concept that defines human life in order to draw conclusions on what makes a good man?  In this sense, we were discussing the meaning of life and how to fulfill life’s purpose.  While the descriptions are vague, as Macintyre notes, it appears to me as if Aristotle’s claims of eudaimonia as the “good for man” are more specific than any current arguments.  Macintyre’s comment that the educated moral agent “does what is virtuous because it is virtuous” therefore answers our earlier questions on intention and habit.  The virtuous person acts in virtuous ways simply due to a devotion to virtue.

            Macintyre’s first, and admittedly tentative, definition of virtue on page 191 gives a unique perspective.  The concept of internal goods is interesting.  Macintyre’s claim, or at least the claim that I interpret, says that virtues give us the means to achieve the good that is inherent in any particular practice, without the allure of an external good that would blemish the use of such virtue.  His analogy with chess and candy gives an understandable account of this.  This seems difficult, however, in a world so heavily based on economics and personal financial status.  People often say that they love their job, but money is also a huge factor in how we live.  Does the fact that we strive for better income damage our chances to achieve a virtuous nature?

After Virtue: Ch. 5-10: The Individual, Fact, and Explanations of Human Behavior

          MacIntyre methodically demonstrates the disparity between arguments involving factual premises with evaluative conclusions and those that use “man” as a functional concept (as the former does).  Outside of societal/family roles, “man” cannot be used in terms of functional concepts, and therefore the “no ‘ought’ conclusion from ‘is’ premises” principle fails in making moral arguments.  Although this is slightly over my head, it is certainly interesting.  To remove a random individual from all functional concepts that arise from roles is to reduce such an individual to the “modern self.”  It may seem unnerving to think that, today, we often draw conclusions like these.  We create certain functional standards for the human race, and draw moral conclusions when others uphold or neglect such standards.  But are these conclusions 100% wrong? I understand MacIntyre’s hypothesis and I appreciate his assertions, but sometimes I think it may be okay for our methods of moral thinking to change.  In reference to our class discussion, is the prideful person guilty of moral misconduct even if he exhibits humble behavior?  Was Benjamin Franklin moral because he made those virtues habit, or does habit not constitute a purely virtuous person?

            Macintyre’s assertions on experience and scientific knowledge are also intriguing.  Our experiences cannot be deemed as concrete scientific knowledge, since they require validation from theory.  I take from this that a holistic approach is necessary in transition from individual experiences to scientific conclusions.  This is somewhat obvious.  No broad knowledge can be derived from a specific event.  MacIntyre also notes the suggestion following Quine’s position that the inability to remove “beliefs and enjoyments and fears” from the study of human behavior means that no “law-like generalizations” may follow.  It seems backward that we believe theory and experience are a necessary basis for scientific knowledge, yet we also allow moral generalizations to be easily upheld as fact.  Are they not similar concepts? Doesn’t morality have as many gray areas as science?

After Virtue: Chapters 1-4

         Although Alasdair MacIntyre presents his hypothesis initially as implausible by necessity, it is hard for me to consider the paramaters surrounding his arguments without a proper background in philosophy.  For this reason, I could not necessarily consider the credibility of his contentions from experience.  Rather, MacIntyre’s defense is the sole influence for the inexperienced philosopher.  His initial claim about the idea that modern rival arguments often are based on different values and therefore cannot be rationally solved was a simple yet new conclusion to me. MacIntyre’s claims on emotivism are striking, as they setup his assertion that the language of morality is in disorder.  His distinction of emotivism as a theory of use rather than a theory of meaning, seen in the “7x7 = 49!!” example, explain how emotivism could be rejected by philosophers of the past. MacIntyre claims that today emotivism is not only the most widely accepted platform, but it is also widely considered to be true.  His claims that this misunderstanding is the basis for our current stage of moral despair are plausible and coherent.  It is interesting to read MacIntyre’s book and consider that our current debates on morality may not only be solvable, but that they are also built on a false set of principles.  

Benjamin Franklin (Cont'd 71-156)

          Other than the obvious difference in language, this section in Franklin’s autobiography might be indistinguishable from a popular issues debate.  Franklin reveals himself as a proponent of education for women, an increasingly hot topic today, as women have both caught and surpassed their male counterparts in earning several types of degrees yearly.  Franklin also holds a stark position on vaccinations, noting that it is an inherent responsibility of parents to give their children the best ability to avoid disease.  His stance on war preparation, the availability of affordable education, consideration of an educational system without a predominant religious ownership, and his suggestion for free health care for the poor all resonate with popular issues in our country today.  But rather than labeling him in contemporary political terms, perhaps it is more useful to look at the root of these opinions.  Are these values that Franklin holds timeless?  Does the existence of debate on these positions reveal anything about their worth? 

            Franklin often speaks of vanity as an unavoidable consequence of mankind.  His autobiography notes every achievement, and reasonably so. But his opinions on the church and his own development of a virtuous group are the most interesting.  Franklin notes that he usually enjoys sermons, unless they focus less on virtue and too heavily on the practice of religion just for the sake of it.  The creation of his own organized “creed of virtue” bears a remarkable resemblance to the church.  He solicits young men to join such a community and initiates members through his practice and their devotion. However dangerously close he gets, however, Franklin impresses me in joining members together to form a non-religious pursuit of virtue.  I believe his view on religious is a fair one.  His universal method is uncommon, but focuses on the moral instruction of the conscious in the pursuit of moral perfection. 

Benjamin Franklin: Beyond the Kite and the Key

          Ben Franklin’s writing often parallels Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe from several angles. Other than Franklin’s direct mention of a longing for the sea, minute details regarding food and specific amounts of money owed allude to Defoe’s novel, considered the prototype for all English novels.  Colonial interpretations of Robinson Crusoe fit this autobiography in the sense that both Crusoe and Franklin find ways to display vanity in knowledge and experience.  Franklin holds almost every person he introduces in his autobiography to some amount of debt, and he often places his prose in competition not with his peers, but rather those much older than him.  Franklin’s emphasis on reason and understanding also highlights some themes from the Enlightenment period.  Franklin writes that he endeavored to strengthen both his “elegance of expression” and his “arrangement of thoughts” (15-16).  Both of these thoughts are consistent with that of the 18^th century as a whole, which placed a large significance on the advance of science and understanding.  Today, science still relies on a valuable understanding of past studies, as they often form a basis for all subsequent studies.

            Franklin also sheds light on what could be considered the central themes of both science and philosophy.  His father’s suggestion that “nothing was useful which was not honest” holds great value when considering the establishment of scientific finding and moreover the delivery of such knowledge to the general public (11).  Franklin also notes that he avoids use of absolute words when making an argument, as to uphold the idea that no argument can be certain.  Scientific theories are known as theories for a reason, and scientists work with the understanding that no finding is an absolute truth.  It seems discouraging that a career could be spent establishing theories that will most likely be outdated in the future.  However, this process is necessary. Right?

            To reflect more freely, I think an interesting theme of this writing is idea that people are meant to go into specific professions.  Often times in his autobiography, Franklin mentions his doubts that an acquaintance of his will have success in a certain career, and he goes as far as suggesting that they do not pursue these paths.  While this discouragement does still exist today, it is significantly limited when compared to Franklin’s suggestions.  Our society is much more supportive of youth exploring all options for their future.  Major changes en route to a college degree are more common than ever.  Does this disparity between Franklin’s time and the present have any effect on the successes or failures in certain professions?  Are we scientists, or are we attempting to be?