Making Sense of Wilson, pt. 1

I finally completed James Q. Wilson's The Moral Sense.  I have mentioned the book in previous posts; I will again -- and for good reason.  The late Prof. Wilson's accessible writing is marked by his massive erudition and incisive reasoning.  It offers much from which one may learn, even if one disagrees with parts or the whole.

Because I find the volume so worthwhile, I plan to post a series of reflections on it.  As with this entry, summaries will be followed by ruminations.  I do not pretend that my posts of gleanings will do justice to the book.

The book is about human nature.  In particular, it is about the moral sensibility that is inherent in human nature and cultivated accordingly.  In arguing that there is such a sensibility, Prof. Wilson finds himself at odds with many academic gatekeepers.  He contends that "an older view of human nature than is now current in the human sciences and moral philosophy is the correct view; thinking seriously about the kinds of animals we are will help us understand our persistent but fragile disposition to make moral judgments and the aspects of human relations that must be cultivated if that disposition is to be protected and nurtured" (vx).

To say that this disposition is something that may be "protected" assumes that it exists, and Prof. Wilson marshals plenty of supporting evidence.  That is the point:  "This book is a modest effort to supply the evidence that man has a moral sense, one that emerges as naturally as his sense of beauty or ritual (with which morality has much in common) and that will affect his behavior, though not always and in some cases not obviously" (25).

To say that one might want this moral disposition be "nurtured" affirms that that to which this sensibility disposes humans is potentially valuable.  Indeed, this positive moral trajectory seems to be where Prof. Wilson places the accent in his discussion:  "Beneath our wars, crimes, envies, fanaticisms, persecutions, snobberies, and adulteries; beneath, that is to say, all of those human traits that might be said to constitute our original sin, there is a desire not only for praise but for praiseworthiness, for fair dealings as well as for good deals, for honor as well as for advantage" (vx).  It is these desires, or sensibilities, and their sources that Prof. Wilson examines.

Although one can reasonably argue for more such moral senses common to almost all people than those that Prof. Wilson treats, he covers much ground with these four:  (i) sympathy, (ii) fairness, (iii) self-control, and (iv) duty.  Next time I will focus on these.  For now, I wish simply to comment on some overarching, framing matters.

To identify these ethical inclinations as Prof. Wilson does is not to identify a set of moral rules (see 11).  But it is in various ways "an attempt to clarify how we evaluate human behavior, and so [the book] starts with judgments in order to discover what we are praised for doing.  Almost everyone has a moral sense that is evident when we speak disinterestedly about our behavior or that of others.  We regularly praise and condemn other people's speech and conduct" (24-25).  There may be a place for rules.  What is more interesting to me is the everyday nature of morality, or moral sensibility, that is highlighted.  This is where most people live.

First, how conscious are we that when we condemn or praise others we are making moral claims?  This may be apparent for things like cheating (it violates our sense of fairness, which is a form of justice) or adultery (it violates our sense of loyalty, which is a form of self-control).  But it extends to more mundane behaviors, too.

When we say that someone is meanspirited, we are judging that meanspiritedness as behavior that ought not to occur; the person should have behaved with kindness instead.  Why?  Because we generally value or find praiseworthy kindness more than we do spite.  The former is the virtuous or moral alternative to the latter.

In this vein, Prof. Wilson discusses sympathy.  This is getting ahead of ourselves somewhat, but it will help to advance the present point.  He writes that sympathy is

the human capacity for being affected by the feelings and experiences of others.  Sometimes sympathy leads us to act altruistically; usually it does not.  More often it restrains us from acting cruelly.  And even when it does not inspire benevolent actions, sympathy is an important source of the moral standards by which we judge both others and ourselves.  Sympathy, in other words, is both a motive and a norm. (30)

We probably agree that sympathy is a motivation for our behavior, but we might ask, How does sympathy also function as a standard, a moral norm, for behavior?  Professor Wilson suggests that our motivation derives from our natural (biological and emotional) sociability.  We desire to be admired by others and so to please them, not to offend them.  In other words, we exist in relationship with others and desire to promote the mutual relational interaction.  To this end, "we must imagine" what others think and feel.  In imagining, we judge in this way:

More particularly, we judge whether the actions and feelings of another person are proportionate.  A rich boy distraught at the loss of a penny arouses not sympathy but derision; a boy indifferent to the loss of a loving dog arouses not sympathy but disdain.  We approve of the conduct and character of another person if, when we imagine ourselves in this position, our feelings correspond to those that we think motivate him. ... Sympathy -- our sense of another's feelings and of their appropriateness given the circumstances -- is the basis of our judgment.  (32)

If this account is roughly accurate, then feelings have a much larger role not just in our moral motives but also in our moral standards than perhaps many of us have been conditioned to suppose.

This is a second noteworthy item of the first section of The Moral Sense:  the role of emotions or feeling in both moral interactions and moral calculations.

To admit a place of emotions in moral reasoning may seem odd, but it also seems to make perfect sense.  As I thought about this from the perspective of engaging others on often controversial topics (because morality is typically a disputed subject), it struck me that a perhaps (more) fruitful way of conducting these conversations is to be sensitive to and aware of other people's emotional responses to the topics under consideration.

Some of us find it relatively easy to explain why we think what we do about a moral topic.  Others do not.  Often it is also the case that people have difficulty mustering arguments for their firm position on a moral topic.  It is therefore helpful to remember this:  "The feelings on which people act are often superior to the arguments that they employ" (8).

Why is this helpful?  It will help us to learn to practice patience in our own lives as we interact with people who may display inconsistency (as we all do) between our words and actions and who may not be able to verbalize their moral feelings.

Second, the feelings on which people act may give us a better barometer of what positions people actually hold, despite what they say.  It will help us to understand -- to sympathize with, as it were -- our family members, friends, or other conversation partners, because we understand the integrity of moral sensibility in persons:  it involves not just their mental senses but also their emotional senses, which prompt physical actions.  We become, as it were, more holistic readers of moral philosophy.

Third, in being patient with others and sympathizing with them so as to understand them better, we will also likely perceive more constructive avenues to pursue in our actual dialogues and interactions.  Where is there more common ground than we might otherwise have assumed?  What is the heart of the matter or disagreement, if there still in fact is one?  Are we approaching the same point in different ways?  How should we best carry on the conversation from here?

Fourth, we will learn to be more self-aware.  We will hone the ability and discipline to discern when emotions are compelling us to respond to justice or injustice, to something praiseworthy or condemnable. And we will better be able to identify which ones they are and why.

In this connection, we may wish to ask ourselves these questions or ones like them.  "Why am I feeling this way about what she just said?  Is it a moral response?"  Or, "Why do I have this physical reaction to what he just did?  What is the connection with my sense of what is right?"  In so doing, we will actually deepen our social relationships with people, because we will be more in tune with, and frankly concerned about, the deeper principles that individual occurrences reflect.  I suspect that we will also be led to better appraisals of ourselves and others.  And in time, with faltering steps -- and by honing our senses of sympathy, fairness, self-control, and duty -- we will probably be able to cultivate not only more substantive relationships but also more virtuous responses to them.