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Alan Gewirth, Alasdair MacIntyre, Friedrich Nietzsche, Jean Piaget, John Rawls, John Stuart Mill, Ken Wilber, Lawrence Kohlberg, modernism, modernity, Thomas Aquinas, Zhu Xi
While recently poring over Ken Wilber‘s works, I’ve thought repeatedly about his ideas in relation to Alasdair MacIntyre‘s. Wilber, ever since he identified the pre-trans fallacy, has been an arch-modernist: the world from the Enlightenment onwards has been far better than the traditional world that preceded it. His most recent phase has taken a more postmodern, relativistic turn, but even as a postmodernist he is still a modernist: for Wilber the pluralism of a postmodern worldview is a clear advance, a development, and a pretty unambiguous one.
This is not the worldview one finds in MacIntyre. MacIntyre, in the 30 years since his famous After Virtue, has been telling us a story of regret and decline – one focused largely on ethics, but ethics broadly defined. In After Virtue, MacIntyre described the Enlightenment project of “justifying morality” as performed most famously by Kant and Mill, but also more recent analytic figures like Alan Gewirth. And he argues that this project has not only failed, but had to fail. (MacIntyre picks Gewirth for entirely the right reason: he sees Gewirth as the smartest and most incisive of such analytic figures, and his argument is that even someone as well suited to the task as Gewirth can’t manage to figure this out.)
“Morality”, in this sort of modern context, nearly always stands opposed primarily to “self-interest”. (In Aristotle or the Pali suttas, any words one could translate as “morality” would have quite a different connotation.) What the modern figures cannot answer, he thinks, is the question “Why should we be moral?” The moderns set up an opposition between egoism on one hand and universal concern on the other, and they have no compelling way of justifying the transition from one to the other. In Three Rival Versions of Moral Inquiry he makes his claim explicit: that the idea of “morality” in a modern context is a survival, an atavism, something very much akin to the taboos of Hawai’i. And it was the genius of Nietzsche to figure this point out.
Now contrast Wilber’s account of ethics. Like a good deal in Wilber’s thought, it revolves around Jean Piaget‘s theory of child development, where children progress from a magical “pre-operational” stage of thinking to a myth-focused “concrete operational” stage and then a rational “formal operational” stage. Most of Wilber’s ethical writings derive in turn from Lawrence Kohlberg‘s extension of Piaget into a psychology of moral development in relation to social conventions, where where the pre-operational stage is also “preconventional”, the concrete-operational is “conventional” and the formal-operational is “postconventional”. At the first, a child is simply egocentric and refuses to go along with social convention; at the second, the maturing child absorbs the conventional teachings of her parents and teachers; and finally, if things go well, eventually learns to criticize those conventions and think independently.
But Wilber adds an additional element to Kohlberg. For him, the story of moral development is a story of wider, expanding concern: preconventional is “egocentric”, conventional is “sociocentric” and postconventional is “worldcentric”. What’s more, this pattern of child development follows the development of human history: the warlike pre-Axial empires were themselves egocentric, the age of the great traditions (from the Axial Age to modernity) sociocentric and modernity worldcentric. And despite the avowedly universal ambitions of premodern Christianity, Islam and Buddhism – their aims to save the whole world – they counted as sociocentric because truth could only be found within their tradition. (“All Christians anywhere, of whatever color or race or sex, were equally saved; but all Hindus would go to hell.” Sex, Ecology, Spirituality 181)
MacIntyre, by contrast, argues explicitly for the idea that truth about ethics can only be found within a tradition. There’s a break with the premodern in MacIntyre, in that he argues only for a tradition rather than for this tradition. But what one cannot fruitfully do, in MacIntyre’s view, is present a universal account like Wilber’s that does not situate itself specifically within a historic tradition of inquiry (or perhaps two specific traditions that one combines after long and detailed study, as Thomas Aquinas did with the traditions of Augustine and of Aristotle). That is what the Enlightenment project tried to do – and why it failed.
Why did the Enlightenment project fail? Because it abstracted the individual self from its commitments and relationships, rather than viewing those as constituting the self. When the self is viewed as an autonomous individual, MacIntyre says, it has no reason to choose to help others in ways that go against its long-term self-interest. I’m not sure whether MacIntyre is right about this, but I see his point when it comes to thinkers like Mill and Rawls – and, I would argue, Wilber himself. Asked why someone would be a utilitarian rather than an egoistic hedonist, or why someone should care about the original position rather than her own position, Mill and Rawls both respond with psychological and sociological accounts of how we might socialize people so that they will be altruistic. They don’t provide reasons that can convince an egoist why he should be altruistic.
And the modernist Wilber also does not offer a logical transition from egocentrism to sociocentrism to worldcentrism. I noted before that this transition is not dialectical. The later levels are larger, more encompassing, and typically later in human development; but none of these is a reason why Ayn Rand, say, should expand her concern beyond herself to the world (or even her society). There is no attempt to show why egocentric or sociocentric ethics breaks down on its own terms and needs to move to a higher level. That it typically comes later in human development does not matter, unless we wish to take Alzheimer’s patients as the highest model of human achievement: the move from sociocentric to worldcentric could be a simple degeneration. MacIntyre, I think, suggests that that is exactly what it is, at a social and individual level: a loss of the social conditions of community that cause altruistic behaviour to make good sense, once the modern self is abstracted “from its place as a member of a set of hierarchically ordered communities within which goods are so ordered and understood that the self cannot achieve its own good without achieving the good of ohers and vice versa.” (Three Rival Versions 192)
As I understand it, that ordering of communities has been central to Zhu Xi’s neo-Confucianism: a key reason why MacIntyre’s engagement with Asian thought has been primarily with Confucianism. We may note here again that mentions of Confucianism appear extremely rarely in any of Wilber’s works. I think this absence points to deeper elements missing in Wilber’s ethics. That’s not to say MacIntyre is right and Wilber wrong – MacIntyre similarly leaves Indian thought aside, and misses the potential of individual Ascending traditions. But it does suggest a reason why a full synthesis needs to draw heavily on both South and East Asian thought. For my own part, that’s a reason I’ve been trying to think about East Asia more in the past couple months and will likely continue to do so – both sides are important, but I’ve personally so far spent too much time on Wilber’s side of the fence.
I’ve reflected some more on the recent issues on my commenting style and Amod’s concerns and policies and thought that it would be an interesting challenge to find out to what extent I can practice my “rational radical criticism” of religious and philosophical views, and the views expressed by commentators such as Jim, Skholiast, Justin, Ethan, et al., within the framework of Amod’s recently stated comment policies.
Now a quick look at the “pre-trans fallacy”:
What is it?
As Amod has put it: “Wilber refers in this light to the “pre-trans fallacy”: someone who has not developed proper ego boundaries seems a lot like someone who has transcended them, because neither have strong egos; but that does not mean the two are the same.”
I think Wilber has also maintained somewhere in his writings that it is a “pre-trans fallacy” to conflate the pre-rational, i.e., that which precedes the development of reason with the trans-rational, i.e., that which “transcends” or “goes beyond” reason.
Thus, the fallacy here is one of failing to distinguish two different developmental levels contrary to the appearance of their identity.
But it would make sense to claim that there is such a “fallacy” only if we can coherently and plausibly distinguish the “pre” and the “trans” forms or levels concerning ego development or the development of reason.
What is the distinction, then, between the “pre” and the “trans” forms or levels of ego development or the development of reason?
Of course, this cannot be a matter of merely stipulative definitions!
So, what’s the substantial difference between the “pre” and the “trans” forms or levels of ego development or the development of reason?
Further, since Wilber presupposes or assumes that the “pre” and the “trans”, at least in the context of ego development or the development of reason, are apparently very similar, there is the critical problem of explaining why there is this (alleged) strong similarity between such disparate developmental levels of “pre” and “trans”.
Given the gulf we should naturally expect between the “pre” and the “trans” levels of development, why are they so similar (assuming that Wilber is correct in thinking that they are very similar!)?
I think that Aurobindo who proffered a complex and sophisticated developmental theory would reject the notion that the “pre” and the “trans” levels of development are strikingly similar.
In Aurobindo’s somewhat Hegelian logic of development, although the achievements of previous stages are assimilated and integrated, in varying degrees, into the subsequent higher stages, any aberrations or deformations at the “pre” or lower stages will have to be overcome before the transition to the “trans” or higher stages can be securely made.
Thus, in Aurobindo’s theory of development, The latter “trans” stages or levels have specific qualitatively higher features which clearly distinguish them from the lower, “pre” stages.
Hence, the persistence of “pre” level characteristics in their native form, or the persistence of “pre” level aberrations or deformations, in a person who has allegedly has attained the “trans” level would be evidence, from Aurobindo’s standpoint, of the fact that the crucial developmental transitions in the passage to the higher “trans” stages or levels have not been securely achieved.
There is also a problem raised by the “excluded middle” in Wilber’s account of the alleged “pre-trans” fallacy, i.e., the “excluded middle” of what lies between the “pre” and the “trans”!
Since there is the intervening stage of level between the “pre” and “trans”, a new problem arises:
In Wilber’s account, the “pre” AND the “trans” are different from the “middle” or the intervening stage, as they must be obviously.
For instance, a person who has developed ego boundaries and operates within their confines must be different from a person who has not developed ego boundaries.
And a person who has allegedly transcended ego boundaries must also be different from a person who has developed ego boundaries and operates within their confines.
Since this is indubitably the case, how is it developmentally possible for the “pre” and the “trans” to be very similar?
In other words,why is it that a person who has passed through the middle level of development of the formation of ego boundaries show striking similarity to a person who has not yet formed those boundaries?
Indeed, is this even likely to happen in any coherent process worth the name of “development”?
Isn’t it like saying that the work of a composer who has mastered the basic principles of harmony in the art of musical composition and gone beyond them will be strongly similar to the work of a beginner in composition who is yet to master those principles of harmony?
Although I would acknowledge that the musical freedom exhibited by a master who has assimilated and transcended the confines of basic principles of harmony may occasionally resemble that of a person who is yet to master those principles, it is extremely unlikely that there will be any great and consistent similarities between the two.
Hence, I am inclined to reject the crucial assumption underlying Wilber’s proposal of a “pre-trans fallacy”: that the “pre” and the “trans” have any great and significant similarities.
Of course, it is perfectly logical and plausible to argue that A and C are both different from B, but that A and C are very similar.
But I think that the requirements of a process of development, in contrast to random change, rule out any strong similarity between the lowest level or the “pre” and the highest level or the “trans” level.
“They don’t provide reasons that can convince an egoist why he should *be* altruistic.”
Going back to (my recent comments) re: Korsgaard’s book, the Sources of Normativity, G.A. Cohen writes a response in the book arguing much the same, that Korsgaard also fails to give good reasons for an egoist to jump camps. But he also suggests that this *might not be possible*. And perhaps a good account of ethics should simply be one that allows the moral person to cogently defend his/her own actions.
To me it is a bit like giving good reasons why a solipsist or young-earth creationist should abandon his or her position. If a person is REALLY convinced of these theories, any evidence or argument given to the contrary can simply be subsumed or deflected.
A humble defense of Kant (and Kohlberg, Korsgaard, and Wilber) is that they are simply trying to give an account of the moral intuitions that they *thought* were universal. If a person really doesn’t have this moral intuition, then there’s little hope in their arguments or explanations working.
“MacIntyre, by contrast, argues explicitly for the idea that truth about ethics can only be found within a tradition.”
What or which “truth” about ethics? And what is “a tradition” and how do we distinguish it or demarcate it?
One can readily think of a few universal truths about ethics which are not tethered to any particular tradition: that ethics must evaluate and regulate conduct or action, that it must contain prescriptions and prohibitions, that it must require consistency of judgment, prescription, and prohibition in identical or relevantly similar cases, and so forth.
“There’s a break with the premodern in MacIntyre, in that he argues only for a tradition rather than for this tradition.”
Does he, then, have a universal concept of “a tradition” in terms of which particular traditions are identified and distinguished from each other?
I don’t know what his “argument for a tradition” is. Indeed, what is it to argue for “a tradition” and not this or that tradition?
And which particular tradition does this “argument for a tradition” derive its force from? The tradition of the “Counter-Enlightenment”?
“But what one cannot fruitfully do, in MacIntyre’s view, is present a universal account like Wilber’s that does not situate itself specifically within a historic tradition of inquiry (or perhaps two specific traditions that one combines after long and detailed study, as Thomas Aquinas did with the traditions of Augustine and of Aristotle). That is what the Enlightenment project tried to do – and why it failed.”
Again, what is the tradition in which MacIntyre’s own account is situated? And how do we know that this is so?
“Why did the Enlightenment project fail?”
This assumes that the “Enlightenment project” has failed. In which sense has it “failed” and what is the evidence for believing that it has “failed”?
The universalist approach of the Enlightenment tradition (It IS a tradition!) is still with us and growing strong in some respects, e.g., the idea of human nature as a universal, science as a paradigm of universally rational inquiry, the idea of universal human rights, the importance of individual freedom, the ideal of equality, etc.
The central failure of the “Enlightenment project”, as I see it, pertains to its view of religion and of the relationship between religion and reason or science.
The Enlightenment’s central error is its view that hold of religion over the masses will diminish considerably with the advance of science or the development of rationality.
This judgment was based on a faulty assumption concerning the place of religion in the scheme of human life or condition: that religion is purely cognitive in nature and consists of beliefs about the nature of the world.
The fact is that the hold of religion, by virtue of early cultural conditioning and indoctrination, extends much further into the recesses of the human psyche than its cognitive apparatus.
Religion has important social and psychological functions for the masses. And the Enlightenment ignored these functions.
“Because it abstracted the individual self from its commitments and relationships, rather than viewing those as constituting the self.”
What does it mean to say that “commitments and relationships” constitute the self? If this is true, it would imply that any change in a commitment or relationship would bring about a change in the self.
Barring an attempt to make this true by definition, it is empirically false that the self necessarily undergoes any significant change in the wake of a change of commitment or relationship.
One can think of a number of cases or examples in support of this claim, e.g., people continue to exhibit the same traits even after ending an intimate relationship with another person which lasted for decades!
“When the self is viewed as an autonomous individual, MacIntyre says, it has no reason to choose to help others in ways that go against its long-term self-interest.”
This also false if we treat it as an empirical claim. Many people in the West “view the self as an autonomous individual”, but it is not true that they do not act to help others in ways that go against their long-term self-interest.
And it is false that in societies, e.g., Asian societies, in which the self is viewed as “constituted by its commitments and relationships”, there is any disproportionate incidence of altruism in comparison to Western societies.
In fact, in some Asian societies, e.g., India, the contrary is true.
Witness the wretchedness of its so-called “Daridra Narayana” (to use Vivekananda’s memorable expression which means “God in the Form of the Poor”) who live and die miserably in its streets without eliciting even a flicker of altruism from a great majority of their compatriots.
“When the self is viewed as an autonomous individual, MacIntyre says, it has no reason to choose to help others in ways that go against its long-term self-interest.”
I think there is a non-sequitur here.
The ideal of heroism is compatible with viewing the self as an autonomous individual.
This ideal of heroism requires helping others in ways which go against long-term self-interest.
Hence, helping others in ways which go against long-term self-interest is compatible with viewing the self as an autonomous individual.
This notion of viewing the self as an autonomous individual is, hopefully, not a strawman.
What is it to view the individual as an autonomous being?
Whatever it means, it surely cannot involve the denial of the obvious fact that every individual depends on some individuals for his or her means of life.
The fact that the life of every individual begins in the context of the family makes this dependence irrefutable.
No thinker can deny this. So, they cannot possibly conceive of the “autonomy” of the individual in ways which imply a denial of this obvious dependence, direct or indirect, on other individuals.