Is virtue ethics a self-effacing moral theory?

Is virtue ethics a self-effacing moral theory?
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Virtue ethics is a moral theory which, unlike its deontological and consequentialist counterparts, places virtue at its centre. Virtues, as Rosalind Hursthouse and Glen Pettigrove (2023) explain, are an “excellent trait of character” – such as honesty or altruism (2023:1). Whilst any moral theory can make space for virtues, consequences, and rules, virtue ethics guides action with ‘doing as a virtuous person does’ as the primary goal. However, if any theory allows individuals – in certain instances – to be guided by a motive different to the theory, they are also self-effacing. Using the case of Mahatma Gandhi, I argue that – under a reasonable alteration – virtue ethics undeniably remains a self-effacing moral theory. Specifically, I argue that non-virtuous motives, when understood either de dicto or de re, cannot be contained within the virtue ethicist’s ordinary guidance for moral action.

Note, Gandhi is taken as a case study here to demonstrate our intuitions behind virtuous motives, rather than to give a fact-of-the-matter account of Gandhi’s actual motives. Likewise, ‘virtue ethics’ is taken as synonymous with Hursthouse’s formulation, both for a concise analysis, and since her formulation remains most compelling.

Before we can consider whether virtue ethics is self-effacing, we require an understanding of what constitutes the virtuous motives in question. Thus, Hursthouse’s account is first explored, and its relation to Gandhi. Following this, the question of whether these motives render virtue ethics self-effacing, both in de re and de dicto terms, is considered.

First, Hursthouse and Pettigrove (2023) set out specifically what virtues are. Unlike other moral theories – which work with deontic or axiological notions – virtue ethics deals in aretaic concepts of virtues and vices. For instance, virtues include honesty, charity, justice, and kindness; correspondingly, vices include dishonesty, greed, injustice, and callousness.[1] In addition to virtues, one must possess ‘continence’, or a strength of will; that is, that “the fully virtuous do what they should without a struggle against contrary desires” (2023:1). Taking on the neo-Aristotelian tradition, Hursthouse explains that such virtues are more than just “useful or agreeable”, they are necessary for eudaimonia – for a human “to flourish or live well” (1998:23). Crucially, however, to possess both virtue and continence, one first requires moral education; specifically, to cultivate a ‘practical wisdom’ of how to apply virtues, from our ‘natural virtue’ (or disposition) to avoid vice and tend towards virtue.

Indeed, Hursthouse’s account of virtue seems initially compelling; it remains intuitive that, for instance, children generally have similar dispositions of kindness and fairness, yet these also undoubtedly require the cultivation that comes from the moral education of parents and situational awareness of “experience of life” (2023:1). For example, it is not uncommon for children to tend towards full honesty as a natural virtue yet lack the situational awareness to understand when their honesty can lead to wrongdoing, such as in offending others. Thus, it seems no great leap to suggest that – despite our general intuitive awareness of vices and virtues – each of us requires further moral education before we can truly hold practical wisdom.

The intuitive appeal of Hursthouse’s account of virtue is further demonstrated in the case of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi (Mahatma Gandhi). Revered around the world for his non-violent activism in both South Africa and India in the 20th century, Gandhi has been attributed as the main cause of Indian independence from oppressive colonial rule in 1947. Considering virtue ethics, Gandhi undeniably possessed both virtue and continence: from his philosophy of Ahimsa (non-violence) and Satyagraha (universal truth, love, and respect), to his dedication to embody it despite imprisonment, hunger strikes, and eventually, assassination. Furthermore, despite initially training as a lawyer from a middle-class family, Gandhi clearly cultivated his natural virtue into practical wisdom during his time living in Sabarmati Ashram, meditating and reflecting on how to truly embody virtue (2010:1).

Whilst virtue and continence remain convincing, however, Hursthouse needs to further apply these in moral guidance. For those who are yet to hold practical wisdom, she explains that – to strive towards becoming virtuous and acting rightly – they must adopt a motive to do “what a virtuous agent would…do in the circumstances” (1998:22). That is, though lacking full moral education or situational awareness, we should always aim to act as fully-virtuous people, or ‘v-persons’, do.  Whilst it is possible to question how we are to know who these v-persons are, without ourselves being fully-virtuous, Hursthouse explains that, given our natural virtues, we can still identify cultivated practical wisdom. This is convincing; the case of Gandhi demonstrates our intuitive ability to recognise his full virtue and continence, without declaring ourselves able to embody or act as he did.

Yet, even if we are able to identify v-persons, it is another thing to accurately understand what they would do in any particular circumstance. For example, whilst recognising that Gandhi is indeed a moral exemplar, how is a parent – who lacks practical wisdom, and thus the ability to properly apply virtue in her actions – to know whether Gandhi would send his children to medical school or the front lines of war? Indeed, if practical wisdom is the ability to identify the moral and virtuous action, it is unclear how someone lacking this ability could accurately discern this themselves, simply by guessing what a v-person would do.

Assuming – as is the case with Gandhi – that one is not able to simply “go and ask” a v-person, Hursthouse suggests creating rules of virtue ethics (‘v-rules’) which instead focus on our ability to identify virtue and vice (1998:24). She writes: “a great deal of specific action guidance can be found…employing the virtue and vice terms”, such as ‘do what is charitable’ and ‘do not do what is uncharitable’ (2023:1, 1999:20). This seems largely compelling; whilst noting, as Hursthouse does, that in many cases what a v-person would likely do will be obvious to us, it certainly appears more intuitive to couch our guidance in remaining cases in terms of virtue and vice, to reach the same aim of moral action and cultivation of virtue. As such, the parent in the previous example – unable to ask him herself – should consider the v-rules which are implied by Gandhi’s virtues.

However, this reply prompts another concern about Hursthouse’s account. If, for example, Gandhi decided to act in a way which was out of his normal character and not an embodiment of his practical wisdom, would we also recommend people to do as he has done? Clearly not, as if we did, the necessary and sufficient condition of virtue for morally right action would become worryingly doubtful. Instead, Hursthouse reverts to the v-rules of Gandhi’s usual virtue (2023:1). This said, for our guidance for moral action to be convincing, it appears inevitable to alter Hursthouse’s original formulation. Our use of v-rules either when a v-person’s action is not clear, or wrong by our identification of vice, suggests that we should simply aim to do that which is consistent with the underlying v-rules of a v-person, independent of whether the v-person chooses that act. Thus, our virtuous motive is to do ‘that which we would expect a v-person to do, on average’, rather than what a v-person may actually do.[2] This alteration will be instrumental later in my analysis.

Having established a compelling formulation of the virtuous motive, we can now consider whether virtue ethics can always recommend this motive – or, if it becomes self-effacing. For Austin Keefe (2021), self-effacing moral theories essentially “recommend their own erasure”; in certain cases, to do the right thing and cultivate our virtue, it is necessary to disregard the virtuous motive for some other motive (2021:1).

First, Simon Keller (2007) applies this argument to propose how virtue ethics is a self-effacing theory. Referencing Michael Stocker’s (1976) example, Keller explains that someone who only visits their friend in hospital because ‘that is what a fully-virtuous person would do’, fails to capture the point of genuine friendship; in Michael Smith’s (1994) phrase, he has “one thought too many” (2007:222, 1994:75). Instead, in order to embody virtue and value their friendship, they ought only to be motivated by real concern for their friend’s wellbeing – not simply what someone better would have done. This argument is compelling; for instance, it would seem to undermine Gandhi’s virtue if, instead of from genuine care for the socio-economic conditions of Indians, he led the 1930 Salt March simply because he thought that someone more virtuous than himself would have done it. As such, here, the use of the virtuous motive undermines his status as a v-person, suggesting that virtue ethics requires self-erasure to achieve its goal.

Furthermore, Keller argues not merely that in some cases a virtuous motive alone is insufficient, but further that a non-virtuous motive may alone be necessary and sufficient. Recognising a challenge uniquely provided by virtue ethicists, he writes: “it may seem that [virtue ethics’ goal] cannot come apart from its…good motives” (2007:224). That is, in aiming to cultivate virtue, virtue ethics recommends acting from virtue. Yet, for Keller, this argument fails to recognise the limitations of being moved by the virtuous motive; in his case of helping lost hikers, the only person able to be fully virtuous does so because they act “out of the truest and deepest generosity” (2007:227). Someone else, only trying to “emulate [the virtuous] person”, fails to embody the same level of virtue, since they act like someone who is acting generously – rather than acting generously themselves (2007:226). Indeed, Keller’s argument is highly persuasive; returning to Gandhi, it seems that not only would the virtue of the Salt March be undermined by holding the virtuous motive alone, but also that only by acting directly from Satyagraha – not simply like someone who acts from Satyagraha – could Gandhi have achieved full virtue. In this case, it indeed appears that virtue ethics must recommend a motive different to the virtuous motive – rendering itself self-effacing.

On the other hand, however, Bernard Williams (1995) argues that virtue ethics may be able to claim that this non-virtuous motive is in fact still the virtuous motive. Williams argues that the virtuous motive may be read in two ways: ‘de dicto’ or ‘de re’. Under the de dicto reading, one acts with the motive of doing what the v-person would do; under the de re reading, one does what the v-person would do, without necessarily having the aim of doing so. With this clarification, the virtuous motive – to emulate what a v-person would do – can be expressed as theoretical aims, or the substance of actions. Indeed, this distinction seems intuitively appealing, and has the potential to save the virtue ethicist from becoming self-effacing; in Gandhi’s Salt March, whilst likely not holding the virtuous motive de dicto, it appears convincing that he nevertheless held it de re.

That said, even if such a distinction can be made, two substantive problems remain. First, as Keller rightly notes, just as the motive of generosity can be interpreted as virtuous de re, it can equally be interpreted as non-virtuous de dicto. That is, there still “exists an informative account of what makes acts right that should not…motivate” – just because there are two formulations possible, Williams would have to further prove that the de re interpretation is exclusively informative about Gandhi’s motives, to avoid self-effacing (2007:229). Second, de re formulations lack conceptual ‘bite’, since any motive under this interpretation can be understood as the virtuous motive, as long as they lead to the outcome of cultivating virtue. This is indeed problematic, as the purpose of highlighting motives – to distinguish between intentions and outcomes – is obscured. I argue, further, that this obscuring undermines the purpose of a moral theory – to provide guidance on moral action – since it prevents it from recommending a motive prior to the outcome. For these reasons, it seems inevitable that de re formulations of the virtuous motive cannot convincingly be included in our account; thus, if only de dicto remains, it remains to be seen how virtue ethics can avoid being self-effacing.

However, to exhaust all options, it is worth presenting one last potential escape for virtue ethics: that non-virtuous motives can still be understood as the virtuous motive, de dicto. It is possible, in my view, to utilise Keller’s interpretation of Aristotle’s argument – that “one who is learning to be virtuous may find it useful” to use a non-virtuous motive, until “true virtue is achieved” (2007:227). That is, all individuals, prior to becoming v-persons, require non-virtuous motives to fully cultivate their practical wisdom. As such, it is possible to argue that Gandhi – before becoming fully virtuous – intended de dicto to ‘do as a v-person would do’, by adopting a Satyagraha motive. If indeed we can establish that all v-persons at some point required a non-virtuous motive to become virtuous, then it may be possible that one can emulate a v-person – in adopting a non-virtuous motive – by trying not to emulate a different v-person. Thus, it is possible for a non-virtuous motive, de dicto, to be understood as a form of the virtuous motive, and so avoid self-effacing.

Whilst multiple problems intuitively arise from this final argument, I will consider only the greatest. Recall our previous alteration of Hursthouse’s virtuous motive: from ‘do what a v-person would do’, to ‘do what we would expect a v-person to do, on average’. Crucially, the claim that adopting a non-virtuous motive de dicto can be interpreted as the virtuous motive, cannot stand under this alteration. That is, the virtuous motive does not necessarily include any act that a v-person may actually do – but simply, what we would expect the average v-person to do, congruent to the underlying v-rules. Just because Gandhi may have adopted a Satyagraha motive to become a v-person, this can only be seen as emulating a v-person if we would expect an average v-person under v-rules to do the same. In this way, it remains unconvincing that de dicto formulations of non-virtuous motives can by this argument be interpreted as the virtuous motive, and thus, virtue ethics remains unable to avoid being a self-effacing moral theory.

In conclusion, it remains clear that virtue ethics is a self-effacing moral theory. We have seen how Hursthouse’s original formulation of the virtuous motive requires a reasonable alteration, to reflect the tension between v-person action and v-rules. Likewise, the case of Mahatma Gandhi revealed how non-virtuous motives in certain cases are both necessary and sufficient for one to fully achieve the cultivation of practical wisdom and right action. Whilst attempts were made to internalise this non-virtuous motive into an account of the virtuous motive, it is both clear that de re formulations are untenable, and that de dicto formulations are incompatible with our reasonable alteration. As such, virtue ethics is left with no clear route to recommend the virtuous motive in all situations, and therefore remains a self-effacing moral theory.


[1] For a more comprehensive list, see Hursthouse and Pettigrove (2023). Despite differences between Western and Eastern philosophical traditions, Gandhi’s principles are contained within this larger list, hence why his relevance as a v-person here is not questioned.

[2] Whilst the distinction may seem minor, my alteration of Hursthouse’s criterion in terms of ‘expectation’ and ‘average’ importantly reflects how v-rules hold primacy over the potential actions of a v-person. There is much overlap between the two, of course, since what we expect to happen will usually indeed happen.


Bibliography:

  • History.com Editors (2010), “Mahatma Gandhi”. History, 2019, URL: https://www.history.com/topics/asian-history/mahatma-gandhi .
  • Hursthouse, R. (1998), “Normative Virtue Ethics”; in Crisp, R. (ed.), “How Should One Live? Essays on the Virtues”. Oxford University Press.
  • Hursthouse, R. (1999), “On Virtue Ethics”. Oxford University Press, pp. 19-36.
  • Hursthouse, R. and Pettigrove, G. (2023), “Virtue Ethics”. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, URL: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2023/entries/ethics-virtue/ .
  • Keefe, A. (2021), “What Is Wrong With Self-effacing Ethical Theories?”. Georgia State University.
  • Keller, S. (2007), “Virtue ethics is self-effacing”. Australasian Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 85, No. 2, pp. 221-231.
  • Smith, M. (1994), “The Moral Problem”. Blackwell Publishers.
  • Stocker, M. (1976), “The Schizophrenia of Modern Ethical Theories”. Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 73, pp. 453-466.
  • Williams, B. (1995), “Acting as the Virtuous Person Acts”; in Heinaman, R. (ed.), “Aristotle and Moral Realism”. UCL Press, pp. 13-23.

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