Aristotle is well known for saying that virtue is a mean between two bad extremes: learning to live well is like learning to hit a target with an arrow, neither too high nor too low. Such an account seems sensible, even obvious, when it comes to virtues like courage. Too little courage makes one a coward; too much makes one foolhardy, taking unnecessary risks. Virtue here seems clearly in the middle.
But what about justice? Aristotle thought that this too was a mean. If we demand more than we deserve, we are greedy; fair enough. But what if we demand less than we deserve? Aristotle thought that this too was a vice. But isn’t it a good thing to be nice and generous in this way? The Dutch legal philosopher Hugo Grotius certainly thought so, and therefore disagreed with Aristotle. The essence of justice, said Grotius, “lies in abstaining from that which belongs to another.” Grotius’s claim moved society away from an understanding of justice based on virtue, and toward one based on law.
I think, however, that Aristotle is smarter than Grotius gives him credit for, in a way that has significant implications. If one asks for too much, Aristotle tells us, one commits injustice; but if one asks for too little, one suffers injustice, and both, in their way, are serious wrongs. It is unjust to refuse to stand up for yourself, to allow others to walk all over you.
The point is particularly important in an age where women are struggling for equality. The vice of submissiveness or meekness, of not asking for enough, is probably more prevalent in women than men. Sociological works like Women Don’t Ask note that gender wage gaps often arise because women don’t feel entitled to their fair share. Aristotle’s view is empowering.
Thanks a lot for this post! I think you are absolutely right. Accepting, for instance, to receive less than one deserves risks to make other people greedy and unjust, as they may not be aware that they are getting so much just because of one’s generosity. So, being just to oneself also is somehow a moral duty towards others. But –and as far as women and oppressed people are concerned– this implies that one knows what is just to receive/pretend/give, etc. Is the non-awareness of one’s rights to be morally blamed? Else, could one suggest that this implies that –as often with Socrates– one behaves badly just because of a lack of knowledge?
Good questions, Elisa. I think they take us toward the question of moral blame itself. Surely it is worse not to know one’s legitimate obligations than to know them, and one who doesn’t know is in some respect a worse person than one who does. But I don’t think that necessarily means we should blame the ignorant person. Blame seems to imply a separate level of criticism that the ignorant person doesn’t deserve – unless perhaps they’ve had plenty of very obvious opportunities to learn and have not taken them.
I’ve toyed with the idea that there shouldn’t be any such thing as moral blame; Śāntideva says words to that effect. Ultimately I disagree with him, at least to the extent that we are trying to live in the everyday world and not rise above it as monks. But I do suspect that blame often plays more of a role in contemporary ethics than it should.
I think this discussion can also benefit from a tie back to your previous post: the idea of virtue ethics, wherein (to simplify) good things are good because they make you a better person.
Presumably, to suffer injustice is to allow someone else (here, the “actor”) to commit injustice, by intent or ignorance on their part. If the victim (“subject”) stands up to the actor, this will -one hopes- discourage the actor from behaving this way in the future, train them out of their callousness or obliviousness.
Will the actor’s life actually be better if they become more virtuous? Quite possibly not; that’s a big problem with virtue ethics. But it will probably make life better not only for the subject (which one may or may not consider justice), but also for other future potential subjects.
Good points, Ben – to stand up for what is rightfully yours is at least potentially a major benefit for the person you’re standing up to (even if they refuse to see it at the time!) I know I’m grateful to people in my life who have refused to put up with my bad behaviour towards them.
It’s easy to lose track of these points because we so often think of good people as being “nice” – but niceness can often imply this exact problem, of servility and conflict aversion, in a way that ultimately isn’t good for the nice person or those around them.
I think I was unclear about part of my point in my last paragraph: standing up *might* be good for the person you’re standing up to, but quite possibly not. That requires a lot of assumptions about what other people need to have a “good life”. For most of us, being taught to be better people is a good thing for us. But I don’t think we (or anyone) has the grounds to specify what will make someone else’s life satisfying, because that’s a wholly subjective/internal measure.
Rather, I’d intended a much more utilitarian point: it’s good because it helps train people out of their bad behavior, possibly preventing future “victims”. It’s not necessarily about helping the actor, and it doesn’t have to be.
Ah – well, then I think we get into a meatier point: about the relationship between virtue, happiness, and the good life. The Stoics would have said that by making another person more virtuous, you are by definition making their life better, whether or not they’re any happier. I’m not sure whether I agree with them on that, but it’s a powerful and interesting claim. The issue deserves a whole post, probably more than one, and I’m hoping to go there in the not-too-distant future. We might take it up more then.