Thursday, 12 April 2012

Empirical Moral Theory


Empirical Moral Theory (EMT)

Reasons for a new moral theory:

The EMT attempts to address the shortfalls of moral realism and moral anti-realism. For the sake of simplicity I will define moral realism primarily in terms of the claim that objective, mind-independent moral truths exist. I will refer to these truths as moral facts. Conversely, moral anti-realism denies the existence of moral facts.

Moral realism is attractive because it asserts that moral facts are discoverable, and the truth of these moral facts is independent of human opinion. Moral imperatives can carry far more weight if they refer to objective facts, as opposed to subjective opinion. However, moral realism suffers from serious flaws, one of which is lack of evidence. If there are moral facts that are mind-independent, what then imbues the moral fact with truth? Whence does the “ought” originate?

Moral anti-realism appears far more defensible, as it does not assert the existence of mind-independent moral truths. The position does make a positive claim about the nonexistence of mind-independent moral facts, which suffers similar problems to strong atheism’s outright denial of gods. There is little room between realism and anti-realism for remaining agnostic about the existence of moral facts due to lack of evidence. Moral anti-realism is also difficult to draw general conclusions from in practice, and many people find moral arguments made from an anti-realist perspective to be unconvincing.

The EMT seeks to improve upon both positions by assuming nothing about the existence of moral facts, and focusing instead on pre-existing values and empirically testable hypotheses.

One could argue that the EMT is not meaningfully distinct from Utilitarianism, however this is not entirely true. Utilitarianism asserts that we ought to maximise good universally. There have been several attempts to justify this, although it’s often treated as axiomatic. Justifying this assertion is a fundamental problem for Utilitarianism. The EMT neatly sidesteps this problem by making no such assertion: instead, all moral prescriptions made by the EMT are framed in terms of existing values held by the individual or group in question.

Other attempts have been made to capitalise on the strengths of moral realism while remaining within an empirical framework. Sam Harris notably claimed that moral facts are accessible to the scientific method. Where I think he fails is in capturing the nuances of the distinction between moral facts (as mind-independent truths) and facts about moral beliefs. To maintain credibility, we must avoid assuming universality of any value, and we must recognise the origins of any moral ought.

The upshot of the EMT is this: Once a common ground of shared values is established in a discussion, moral propositions are no longer a matter of opinion; they are a matter of evidence and scientific enquiry.

Characteristics:

The EMT assumes no moral rules, axioms or value judgements to be true or preferable. It assumes no objective moral facts/truths, although it doesn't rule out the possibility.

The EMT is concerned with observations about what people value, and the different ways these values may be applied.

Moral Propositions with EMT:

All moral propositions with EMT must refer to existing or assumed values. Such a proposition would follow the form, "If a person values X, what derived moral principles & actions should they follow in order to optimise and remain consistent with X?"

Observations:

·         We observe that people have values and moral rules (these are distinct concepts). An individual's values may be inconsistent with their moral rules or their behaviour. Additionally, values may compete with one another.

·         Moral rules tend to follow directly from values. This is because people prefer to have consistency between their values, their moral rules, and their actions.

·         Most people value personal happiness (although the specifics vary between individuals). Most people also value pleasure and not-suffering. These values are so common as to be virtually universal among humans.

·         People tend to prefer to subscribe to a set of general moral principles. An advantage of general principles is that they can apply to unknown/unanticipated situations. Another advantage is simplicity (when compared to a large set of special-case rules). We might believe a principle like "suffering is bad" is true in general, even if we might not feel bad for every instance of suffering that we hear about. The justification for such a moral principle seems to follow when inductive reasoning is applied to all the cases of suffering that we have previously felt were wrong.

·         If a moral principle is informed by evidence and sound reasoning, it has a greater likelihood of producing actions that are not regrettable in hindsight.

·         We often prefer not to think about moral consequences beyond those in their immediate proximity, because to do so may threaten our comfort, self-image, finances, ability to indulge without guilt, plans, or liberty. We may subscribe to a moral principle (e.g. "suffering is bad"), but choose not to apply it consistently. Then, in order to maintain a sense of consistency and moral justification, we must employ cognitive dissonance. This can often be less than ideal.

Hypotheses:

·         Knowledge about others' situations, perspective-sharing and proximity all increase empathy (i.e. value-transferability). This should be empirically testable.

·         Virtually everyone values their personal happiness. Our beliefs & assumptions about what will make us happy are often (usually?) incorrect in retrospect. Watch this TED Talk by Dan Gilbert for some more on this idea. Empirical analysis may show that practising empathy and considering others' preferences produces more happiness than a more selfish or cognitive-dissonant approach.

Do we have a choice?

Consider two scenarios:

1. I intentionally and maliciously press a button to cause two trains to collide
2. I intentionally and maliciously *do not* press a button, resulting in two trains colliding

Why base our ethics on the distinction of pressing a button / not pressing a button? We don't value that. We value the result (avoiding train collision), so our moral distinction should be based on the *consequence*, not on the perception of whether a choice was made.

Do we really have the ability to choose? Should our answer to this question affect the way we punish crimes?

If we accept determinism, then our choices are already made, and there is no altering them. Does that mean we aren't responsible for our actions?

Another way of looking at it: Our brain is a decision-making machine. Input goes in, and a decision comes out deterministically. The brain can also be reprogrammed so it makes different decisions based on different inputs. We punish destructive actions because the result is that the brain's decision is influenced against deciding to take the destructive action.

Why does intent matter, if we didn't even have a real choice about having the intent? If we are not ultimately responsible for the intent, then how do we justify factoring the intent into the punishment?

Intent matters because a person who decides to act with intentional malice is more dangerous, and more difficult to correct, than a person who unintentionally causes harm (assuming it wasn't out of negligence). So if we look at it in terms of the *consequences*, we could try to prevent the accidental harm by either punishing, or by educating. Both might have a similar effect in terms of preventing the person from causing harm in the future (although one could argue that imprisonment may influence a person to intentionally commit crimes in the future). But education produces far less suffering than imprisonment.

On the other hand, if we attempt to educate the malicious offender instead of punishing them, we achieve nothing because the crime was committed intentionally and with full knowledge. Rehabilitation or punishment in this case makes sense, in terms of the consequence of doing so, since the consequence of not rehabilitating or punishing is that the offender is likely to reoffend. So the suffering caused by rehabilitation / punishment is justified by the consequence.*

Laws and ethical principles should be based on what matters to us. Whether or not a button was pushed does not matter to us. What matters to us is the consequence in terms of lives & overall suffering, and the likelihood of it happening again. So I would argue that a reults-based ethical philosophy (consequentialism) makes more sense than an action-based ethical philosophy.


* I've said "rehabilitation or punishment" because it's not clear whether punishment actually has a positive consequence in terms of the offender's likelihood of reoffending. Many have argued that, if anything, it has a negative effect. Although we must of course consider the wider effect of deterrence for people other than the offender.

Dawkins' scale and the spectrum of beliefs about God

I have some problems with the often-cited Dawkins scale for describing the spectrum of beliefs. The scale is described here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spectrum_of_theistic_probability#Dawkins.27s_formulation

I think it represents the probability distribution assigned to the two propositions "god" and "no god", but fails to represent certainty attached to those distributions. In practice I think almost nobody would say, "I believe there is 50% chance god exists and 50% chance god doesn't exist, and I'm 100% certain these probabilities are correct".

So, I propose an alternate representation for belief distribution:




* technically atheistic positions are restricted to the left-hand line of the triangle, but people may self-identify a little differently in practice.

Are we living in a simulation?

Things that might suggest the universe is a simulation:


1. Accelerating expansion of universe suggests non-cyclical nature of universe (i.e. the simulation started at the big bang)

2. We've yet to discover physical "stuff" -- so far it's rules & information all the way down.
- Counter-argument: would physical stuff look any different to this? Would we know it when we saw it?

3. The apparent inaccessibility of "hidden variables" in quantum physics. Perhaps there are causal mechanisms behind the apparent randomness of wave collapse, but these might be inaccessible within our universe.

Thursday, 16 December 2010

Is it rational to act on empathy?

The basis for empathy -- pleasure-seeking and suffering-avoidance -- is not rational. Our value of those things is hard-wired and instinctual. But given that people & animals do value these things, is the application of empathy rational?

My contention is that empathy results from understanding, and a lack of empathy results from incomplete understanding. If I do not feel what another person feels, I haven't fully understood their perspective. If it's rational for me to take action to avoid my own suffering, then it's rational to help others avoid suffering, whether I *feel* empathy or not.

I think lots of intelligent people end up dismissing empathy because it doesn't appear to have a rational basis. Granted, it does *seem* to be based on an emotion. But let's think about what's rational. Is it rational to take my hand off a stove's hot-plate after accidentally placing it there? Sure. I was suffering with my hand on there. Given that I have this pre-existing value of not suffering, the rational course of action is to take my hand off the hot-plate.

The point where it's difficult to intuitively see why empathy is rational is when suffering/pleasure is separated from our own experience. So let's add a degree of separation: Let's say I'm on some dissociative drugs, and I experience my hand on the hot-plate as though it's happening to someone else. I know my other self would want to remove the hand, because he is either suffering right now, or will definitely suffer later. But I'm in control. And I don't have a pressing reason to act, because I'm not suffering right now, in my dissociated state. So, is it rational to remove my hand from the hot-plate? I understand that part of me is suffering (and certainly I will suffer later), and I understand that this suffering is subjectively bad. If I fully understood my other self's suffering (i.e. felt the full force of it), I can be reasonably certain that I would be motivated to take action.

We could extend that degree of separation to arbitrary levels (a person drowning in front of you; people being persecuted elsewhere in your country; people starving in another country). The reasoning is the same. Why place value on something I'm not presently feeling empathy for? And why should one scenario "deserve" more of my empathy or consideration than another? Does my proximity to suffering have ethical weight (practical considerations aside)?

I have to decide whether to act on my current, limited perspective, or on the larger perspective (inclusive of others' suffering), which I know to be there. Not feeling empathy is a kind of ignorance. Does that ignorance justify an inconsistent, selfish application of the principle: suffering == bad? I would suggest it doesn't. To disregard others' suffering is to value the ignorant state over the less-ignorant state. I can choose to value the limited perspective, or I can value the complete perspective.

To think about it another way: Is my criteria for taking action such that I will take action based on the knowledge of suffering alone? Or do I need to also feel that suffering (via empathy) to take action? I think the knowledge itself is sufficient.

Tuesday, 7 December 2010

A comprehensive solution to the question of free will

I posit that this question is answerable -- in fact I'd go as far as to say that it's rather trivial, if approached correctly. My claim there seems to contradict the fact that virtually all serious attempts to answer the question are lengthy and convoluted. I think the fundamental problem is in our approach.

Debates about free will invariably become mired in a heap of conflicting definitions and unstated assumptions. Furthermore, we tend to frame the question as though it has an absolute answer. I think a better approach is to ask: Do we have x definition of free will, given y set of assumptions about the world?

To that end, I've drawn up a matrix in an attempt to comprehensively answer the question of free will. It covers many of the properties that are commonly associated with free will. Want to know whether we or not we have free will? Just pick your worldview on the horizontal, and the properties of free will you think are correct / meaningful on the vertical, and let the magical matrix do the philosophy for you:


(Click for full size)

Some clarifications:
Presumably we don't have access to a truly random decision generator, so consider it there as a thought experiment. I included it to illustrate how some of the aspects of free will (listed on the vertical) are meaningfully distinct.

For further clarification, see the associated diagram which helps visualise the distinctions I've made about ways of escaping determinism: Click here.

Idealism

Do you consider yourself an idealist? I don't, but I've often been labeled as one.

I think there's a disparity in the types of people we label idealists. The term often carries strong connotations that the person in question holds unrealistic views about the world. It is used in direct contrast to the term "realist". The term can also describe "a person who cherishes or pursues high or noble principles". I think we often conflate these ideas, and as a result we tend to apply both ideas to individuals who might only fit under one of these definitions. This can easily lead to fallacious thinking, where we might mistakenly reject a person/philosophy/idea as unrealistic because we've mentally classified it as idealistic (in the "noble principles" sense).

Let's look at three hypothetical people as examples:

Heather believes humanity can put its differences aside and unite in a peaceful, utopic society. Every day when she sees all the hatred and violence on the news, she longs for the day when these things no longer exist. Heather fits the criteria of an idealist. However, some might think that her ideals are on the unrealistic side, considering humanity's track record.

Nicole is a human rights, animal rights and environmental activist. She campaigns for a withdrawing of combat troops from Iraq; she organises rallies against old forest logging, and she avoids consuming animal products. Her campaigning has in many cases effected changes in laws and policies, and she feels as though her efforts make a difference. Many would consider Nicole an idealist because she aspires to and pursues "noble principles". This would be a correct classification according to certain definitions of idealism.

Peter thinks of himself as a pragmatist: He believes people should take care of their own problems, and that real change happens by way of a free market and hard work. He is concerned about the fact that many people in the world are in poverty, and in fact holds similar ideals to Heather and Nicole. Where he differs is in his beliefs about how to solve these problems. He thinks charity, protests and activism do nothing to address the problems of the world. He believes people like Nicole are wasting their time.

I think it is fairly uncontroversial to call Heather and Nicole idealists. But is Peter actually a realist? And which views line up best to the facts? Which are unrealistic?

I would suggest that Heather's optimistic view of a utopic future is somewhat unrealistic, considering humanity's historical inability to coexist without some incidence of hostility. Nicole, on the other hand, has achieved measurable success through her campaigning, and has made progress towards her ideals. Her environmental footprint is low, and her boycotting of animal products has had a quantifiable effect. By these measures, her actions realistically contribute to her ideals.

If this is the case, Peter's view doesn't line up with the facts. Nicole's actions have made quantifiable progress towards their shared ideals, whereas Peter's beliefs have prevented him from taking action to improve the situation of anyone except himself and his family. In actuality, Nicole is the realist; not Peter. Peter would be better termed a skeptic. He is perhaps overly skeptical, since his conservative approach has led him to disregard Nicole's activism prematurely.

And yet this is the reverse of how most people would tend to classify Peter and Nicole. I think this is for two main reasons:

  1. Mistakenly conflating the ideas of *unrealistic* and *noble* principles, both of which fall under the umbrella of idealism.
  2. A vested interest in disregarding Nicole's actions as unrealistic, which allows us to take no action towards our ideals, while feeling as though our inaction is justified and not in conflict with our ideals.