To Delight in His Will and Walk in His Ways:
A New Anglican Moral Theology
Daniel Westberg
Nashotah House
Chapter 2
PRACTICAL REASON
[D R A F T
October 2005]
I Human
Action
We tend to separate
the ordinary “every-day” actions of our
lives from the difficult and
genuinely “moral” decisions that occasionally need to be
made. Thus brushing one’s teeth, writing
an e-mail, going out for a walk, washing the dishes, and so on, are not seen as
ethical decisions or part of moral theology, whereas the decision to report to your superior someone at work you
suspected of misusing funds would be a moral decision, as would thinking about
whether to get a divorce or not.
There are
several reasons for this: (1) everyday
decisions are quick and easy. These
decisions are often made without much reflection, and with no moral agonizing
or pondering. There is no need to “figure
out” what to do. Occasionally one may not “feel like” doing the dishes, or
getting exercise, but that seems to be a matter of mood rather than of
morality. (2) There are no major moral
rules or principles at stake, such as the duty to tell the truth, or the
protection of life. If there is no
moral problem to be solved, it does not seem to belong to ethics. This
sense of what moral actions are has been reinforced by the traditions of both
moral theology and philosophical ethics that focused on “cases of conscience”
(the dubitantium or matters of doubt), or on crisis situations. Should I let myself starve or save my life by
becoming a cannibal? Would it be
possible and ethical to find a way for one or two on this over-crowded lifeboat
to volunteer (or be selected at random) as sacrificial victims so that the rest
of the group could have a chance to make it back to land?
In reality,
all of our genuine actions (setting aside unconscious actions such as doodling
while on the telephone or drumming your fingers while thinking of something
else) have moral import and are moral actions.
That is, they are expressions of purpose, desires, and attitudes
revealed in a decision to do something.
Brushing your teeth is not just a mechanical habit or piece of learned
behavior; it reflects a well-founded
concern for good health, and a desire to be presentable in society.
Having a
meal with friends or family can serve a number of different purposes besides
simple nourishment. It might be the
occasion for trying new cuisine, honoring someone’s birthday or retirement, or
sharing joys and disappointments. Making
a decision to show hospitality and include others at your table is definitely a
moral action! It is the variety of
purposes that can be served that constitute the range of moral actions.
Motivation
In an Aristotelian-Thomist view of human action the
motivation prompting action is a desire for fulfillment–to achieve a more
complete level of being. The ultimate
goal, that final end which exists as the remote purpose behind all other
actions, is perfect well being and happiness.1
The
classical and medieval model of action in nature included a metaphysics in
which natural objects were described as “desiring” or “seeking” a form
corresponding to their natures. Fire
would seek to rise to its proper sphere; acorns would seek the form of an oak
tree, the completion of their nature, and so on. Modern physics and biology of course no
longer allow us to describe the operations of natural agents in this
fashion.
There are
alternatives to a metaphysics of the desire for the good, based more on
empirical study of the behavior of human beings. Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs is
an outline of the varying types and levels of human needs which provide the
basis for human motivation. At the
bottom level are physiological needs for food, warmth, activity, sex, and so
on. The next level would be safety and
security needs, but a person will not focus on these needs until the basic
survival needs are first dealt with.
Once security needs are met one will turn to needs for belonging, and
then esteem (both from others and from one’s self), and finally
self-actualization.
Another
alternative to an Aristotelian scheme, developed within conservative Roman
Catholic circles, is to posit certain “basic human goods” that simply describe
what all people make fundamental to their behavior. These are
life (including health), knowledge, play, aesthetic experience, friendship, practical
reasonableness (living with freedom and reason and integrity), and religion.2 The advantage of a system of goods like this
is that while universal claims about human nature are made, the starting point
is observable reality with no dependence on an underlying metaphysical
explanation. As fixed characteristics of
human beings, without a hierachy of value, these basic goods become the
foundation for a new “natural law” furnishing inviolable moral axioms, based on
not violating any the basic human goods.
We need not
give up the Aristotelian-Thomist picture completely, however. If one takes a theological starting
point with a doctrine of creation as expressive of God’s will, then there is a
certain truth in speaking metaphorically of the “desire” of the acorn to become
an oak tree, of stars to shine and of cats to hunt. This language is not explanatory in any kind
of scientific sense, but descriptive of
creatures’ actions in that they are living in accordance with purposes immanent
in the created world.
Actions and Purpose
Animals and plants fulfill their natures by responding to the
world around them in a fairly predictable stimulus-response pattern. Squirrels build nests, bees construct hives,
and cats chase birds and rodents because they are pre-programmed to respond to
certain objects and environmental stimuli.
The ability of higher animals to be trained in new beheavior patterns
indicates a certain flexibility and openness, so that “instinct” should not be
made too rigid; but there remains a basic stimulus-response pattern behind
natural movement.
Human action
follows patterns on a completely different level. Instinct and biological urges still operate,
of course, but there is a much larger range of possibilities opened up by the
use of the mind. This is not to deny
that a few animals have some capacity for using elements of language and
tools. But the difference between animal
actions and human action is analogous to the difference between the song of a
nightingale and a great composer producing a new piece of music.
Human beings are able to put their actions
into a means-end structure that expresses purpose. It makes sense to ask someone why they are
doing something that may not be immediately obvious. Why are you digging a ditch in your front
yard? Why have you joined this political
organization? “Why?” can even be asked
of someone who is just lying down: he might tell us that he is meditating, or
nursing a sore back, or simply resting.3 Human beings give shape and structure to
their lives by purposeful action. It
makes no sense to ask an animal (even if communication were possible) what is
the purpose of your life? Human beings
can have plans and projects, and then figure out the best way to achieve their
goals. That is what is meant by
practical reasoning: a person directing his mind to concrete action in the
service of life’s goals.
Actions make
sense, have meaning, and can be freely chosen in the context of a means-end
pattern of reasoning. If the purpose is
clear and desirable, the action required to achieve that purpose are
intelligible. We understand why someone
might get up before dawn to run and train for a marathon race, even if we
disagreed about the desirability of the goal.
Actions are
the result of desire guided by reason.
Some desires are felt strongly and urgently, but many are not. The task of practical reasoning is to
identify the particular action to be undertaken in order to accomplish the
desired goal.
II The Character of Practical Reasoning
Practical reason is thought leading to action, or the
reasoning process that leads to doing something. Practical reasoning does not end with an item
of knowledge, but with an action. As
Aristotle described the process of deliberation and choice, deliberation ends
with a choice (prohairesis), and the choice becomes an action.4 As we shall consider below, this is a bit too
succinct; however, Aristotle wanted us to see that the conclusion of the
process of reasoning is an action, and that is what makes the process “practical”
reasoning.
We
distinguish this process leading to genuine action from hypothetical reasoning
which remains an item of reasoning.
What would you do in such a situation?
Would it be correct to tell a lie in this situation? This requires a consideration of principles,
circumstances, and so on, and good
ethical analysis may yield a conclusion one concludes is the “right one”–but
this is not practical reasoning. It is
the kind of moral reasoning that the authors of moral handbooks were trained to
do. It involves deliberation (about
options available) and judgments about what is the best line of reasoning, but
it was not practical reasoning either at the beginning of the end.
Practical
reasoning starts with the desire to achieve something, an intention to do
something. We then set the process of practical
reason in motion, and the perception that the time and the occasion is right,
produces a choice and an action. This
has been diagramed for us as Aristotle’s outline of practical reasoning5:
desire
º Action º
end
perception
This is too simple for complex actions which require
deliberation and direction, but it does characterize a certain basic kind of
everyday action such as getting up in the morning, eating lunch, answering the
telephone, and so on.
We may
suppose a kind of reasoning which includes these elements:
Desire: “I feel hungry; I want some food.”
Perception: Awareness of the time of day, that a
suitable gap has occurred since the last meal; that lunch is being served
downstairs; or that you have an appointment for lunch and the clock indicates
it is time to go, etc.
Action: Follows the conjoining of desire and
perception.
It will be
seen that the hinge element is the perception one brings to the situation which
then generates the action. In the eating
example, we may be biologically driven and share with Pavlov’s dogs an
automatic arousal of interest in food when encountering the smell of freshly
baked bread, or sizzling steaks. But the
perception of the situation includes not only our own feelings of hunger and
interest in food, but also the time (too short an interval since the last meal;
we are on a diet and trying to cut back; food will be waiting at home later on,
etc.). Thus the awareness of the various
relevant factors to apply to the situation leads to the judgement “Go ahead and
buy that doughnut or hotdog” or “Don’t eat now, wait for a proper meal later
on.” It is a mixture of understanding
the reality of the situation (e.g. my calorie intake does not really need a big
boost right now) and the reasons for taking one course over another, plus
control over one’s emotional disposition.
The perception
also includes the recognition of the means-end structure of the action, the
purpose for which it serves. Thus both
the circumstances of the agent and occasion, but also the purpose one is doing
the action for. (In the case of eating,
this hardly applies, because the reason for eating is so self-evident). Further, the action chosen is in accordance
with our desires.
Let us
consider an action which is chosen purely because we can understand the reason
for it and not because we are inclined to it.
Principle: People
ought to go to the dentist when their teeth need repairing.
Perception: I am a
person with a bad tooth (and have the means and opportunity to visit the
dentist, etc.)
Conclusion: I ought to go to the dentist.
The decision go to the dentist is contrary to the
inclinations of most people since it costs money, might be painful (or at least
represents that possibility). There are
a number of people in fact with irrational fears about the dentist. Nevertheless there can be a kind of desire to
go the dentist, which we will call a “rational desire”. It is that aspect of our minds which can
desire to do certain actions in accordance with the reasons for them. It is the desire for the end--in this case a
set of attractive, healthy teeth--that carries over to choose willingly the
means to achieve the end, namely a visit to the dentist.
Aristotle
was able to distinguish both types of practical reason in his brief discussion
in the work De Motu Animalium (On the Movement of Animals). In the first case of taking a walk,
Aristotle is clearly describing the decision to act. In the second instance about a cloak, there
are two parts: the conclusion of the
first line of reasoning is a speculative proposition, specifying the need for a
cloak; while in the second part, “the
conclusion which results from the two premises is the action.”6 Here is the somewhat cryptic fashion with
which Aristotle put it:
For example, whenever someone thinks
that every man should take walks, and that he is a man, at once he takes a
walk. Or if he thinks that no man should
take a walk now, and that he is a man, at once he remains at rest. . . .
I need covering; a cloak is a
covering. I need a cloak. What I need I have to make; I need a
cloak. I have to make a cloak. And the conclusion, the “I have to make a
cloak,” is an action.7
Aristotle distinguished these two types of reasoning as
through the “good” and through the “possible.”8 Though not yet crystal clear, Aristotle has
identified the difference between the line of reasoning which looks at an end
to achieve and then reasons back to a specific means to achieve it; and the
kind of reasoning involving perception of the circumstances which results in an
action. The first type is means-end
deliberation, and leads to or prepares the way for a decision to act; the
second is the decision resulting in action, and has been called the “practical
syllogism.”
III The Thomistic Practical Syllogism
The practical syllogism or “operative syllogism” (as it was
sometimes called by Aquinas) is the syllogism of action. It represents that confluence of desire,
perception of the circumstances and judgment that results in an action, or in a
decision not to act. (The practical
syllogism should not be confused with the reasoning from end to means, the
process of figuring out what steps to take to accomplish a certain
goal.)
For Thomas,
the practical syllogism includes a major premise of the form “do this” or “avoid
this,” along with the judgment about a particular action here and now as an
instance covered by the major premise, with the conclusion to do or to avoid
following deductively, as in this example:
Operative principle: Avoid
stealing.
Minor premise: This
action would be an act of stealing
[Judgment about
the action and circumstances]
Conclusion: Avoid
this action.
This line of
reasoning focuses on the morally relevant features of an action which would
make it unacceptable under the principles one has. Alternatively, one can see the line of
reasoning under a positive principle as in this example:
Operative principle: Get
revenge on my previous employer.
Minor premise: This
act would be a good way to get some revenge.
Conclusion: Perform
this act.
Needless to
say, this is hardly a reasoning “process” because it is often virtually
instantaneous, and we are mostly not aware that it occurs. The key is in the minor premise, the
perception and judgment that the action considered is of a certain type. That perception is what guides the recognition
of the major operative premise governing the action. Or one might say that the act of judgment
involves the simultaneous selection of principle and action.
Further, an
operative principle is simply a principle for action that one holds. By “holding” a principle such as “honor your
father and mother” we indicate that a person agrees with the principle, has
some understanding of its basis and range of application, and has determined to
make it operative in her life–she wants to fulfill it.
In the example immediately above, someone
might know the biblical teaching “Do not repay anyone evil for evil” and yet
the emotional reaction to an injustice still produces a principle of
revenge. There may well be in a person’s
mind a dissonance between principles he has been taught (or thinks he ought to
have, and would claim to agree with when asked), and those which actually are
operative for him.
Note also
the pivotal nature of the minor premise.
A particular action may be seen as an instance of stealing rather than
achieving justice (or getting back at someone); or a fancy restaurant meal may
be seen as legitimate enjoyment or avoided as an expensive self-indulgence; the
perception and judgment will change with the circumstances and the person’s
temperament, experience, maturity and character. One does not really think about the operative
principle until the mind perceives that the particular action which seems
relevant in this situation falls under a relevant operative principle.
Thomas
Aquinas also thought that we could subsume all actions under one basic
principle, “do good and avoid evil” also known as the first principle of
practical reason (ST I-II q. 94. a. 2).
We can thus express the basic generation of human actions in syllogistic
form:
Operative principle: Do
good.
Premise: This
act is good.
Conclusion: Do
this.
Or in negative form:
Operative principle: Avoid
evil.
Premise: This
act is evil.
Conclusion: Avoid
this.
It implies that every human being has an operative principle
to pursue good and avoid evil as the motivation for action. Its generality allows all actions to be
encompassed, but naturally provides no help for pointing to specific
actions. That is the “job” as it were of
the act of judgment in the minor premise, the ability to perceive what in the
present situation is “the good” action that one should do. Since we will see that the Thomistic account
of sin is based on pursuing what is apparently good, the importance of
sound judgment is paramount.
The Centrality of Judgment
The key to the effective integration of thought and action is
the stage of the minor premise in the syllogism, the perception and judgment
about the action. Everything that goes
into moral instruction, experience, awareness of emotional reactions, attitude
toward others, goals and desires, comes into play in the perception and
judgment expressed schematically as the major and minor premise of the
practical syllogism.
Take for
example a man who works too much, a workaholic.
He is the man who doesn’t know when to stop working–he makes the choice
in favor of work when others would have returned home to be with spouse or
family, or enjoyed some recreation.
(Note that we are speaking not of the need to work long hours to finish
a special project, but of a habitual pattern of overwork) We begin to see signs of unhealthiness–the
results of lack of exercise, remoteness from family, and no hobbies or outside
interests. The workaholic may pride
himself in his “will power” and stamina, or evidence of loyalty to the firm, or
his strong “work ethic.” There are probably other emotional issues involved:
the avoidance of family and intimate relationships; or, various fears of not
measuring up; or a magnified sense of importance to the firm. When other people are able to make the
judgment “It’s time to stop working for today” our workaholic friend continues
to see work as a good to pursue, or free time as an evil to avoid. His attitudes, emotions, and lack of
self-awareness cause him to distort
his ability to judge his situation clearly.
The person
who is wise in biblical terms is the one who not only is well informed about
the priorities and values in relation to God, but who has the self-awareness,
and insight into the nature of situations so that these values may be properly
expressed in decisions and actions.
III Practical Reason, Actions, and Character
Our moral vision–the way we look at the world, others, and
ourselves–is what determines our judgments and actions. This vision is made up not just of our
principles and convictions and beliefs, but also attitudes, and desires, our
affective response to the real world–our goals, and what we value in life. All of these go into shaping the more
specific intentions we make judgments about and turn into concrete actions.
The atomized
view of ethics in which the moral life is seen as a series of decisions where
moral principles and criteria are sifted through, is wrong on a number of
accounts. One of the major errors is to
convey a false sense of freedom, as if we are neutral agents weighing options
and discerning the correct moral balance.
In fact, however, we bring to each situation the moral vision we already
have. The kinds of thing we desire and
are important to us and the framework we use to interpret our situation are
part of our character which shapes our judgments.
When we make
a judgment about some action “this is the good I want to do here and now” we
are deciding about something proposed by the set of qualities of character that
make up who we are. This is part of the
limitation of practical reason. Choice
is not about the ends, but about the means, according to Aristotle.9 Those things which are important for us to
achieve are already part of our view of the world, and we use practical reason
to discern how to fulfill them. As
Aquinas put it in discussing prudence (practical reason when it functions
well), practical reason “does not appoint the ends. . .but only to arrange our
activities which serve to reach them.” (ST II-II, q. 47, a. 6). Our total character–the outlook and
attitudes of reason, will, and emotions–in a sense pre-determine what we are
going to decide to do.
Let us
suppose that a middle-aged man decides to buy a Harley-Davidson motorcyle. He may do research on comparative resale values,
the savings in money for gas, and so on, but the decision is probably being
made in terms of the need for a little excitement, the fulfillment of a boyhood
fantasy, a desire to look cool in the neighborhood. His practical reasoning is done about the
object which has already deeply captured his vision.
We can make
this more explicit in reference to an action which is of greater moral import–a
decision to break up a marriage. Since
the divorce rate among Christians is virtually the same as in society at large,
we can assume that these decisions to divorce are being made in spite of
knowing the church’s teaching on the permanence of marriage, the importance of
sacred vows, and the often unfortunate consequences of broken marriages on
children and society at large. In the
case of a marital break-up where the husband “wants out,” let us say, such a
decision is obviously not made by a rational weighing of the pros and cons or a
consideration of validity of the church’s understanding of the teaching of Jesus,
but is a product of the vision and character the man has developed up to that
point. As a Catholic Thomist philosopher
puts it:
It is an unsettling thought that
decisions of an important kind, the kind we tend to concentrate on in doing
ethics, are not simply a matter of assessing a situation in the light of
principles and then deciding, but are in some mysterious way made before we
make them. Does it not seem reasonable
to assume that, when a man leaves his wife, or vice versa, the decision is the
cumulative effect of a whole series of minor decisions, each of them, when
taken singly, of little moment–what the moralist would call indifferent acts–which
yet, in the aggregate, in unforeseen and also unintended combinations,
constitute the person we are when the momentous decision is to be made? Our dreams, our fantasies, our unspoken way
of seeing ourselves and others, the shifting furniture of imagination, all
those innocent reveries. . .are, in the view of the moral life which emerges,
important because they are elements of our vision of ourselves and others. That is, the moral life is a continuum, not
episodic as if were composed of discontinuous puncta or moments.”10
The common
view that our actions are the product of discrete individual decisions gives us
the illusion that we can separate who we are from our sinful actions. Even when we Christians engage in confession
and repentance, the superficial recognition of our overall waywardness limits
the possibility of our repentance. We
limit self-awareness and repentance by distancing ourselves from our actions: “Yes,
that was wrong and embarrassing, but that wasn’t really me;” or “I’m not really like that–that was out of
character;” or “I was under pressure.”
We nurture an illusion of ourselves as good Christians and separate our
Christian identity from some of the actual decisions we make by treating them
as exceptional occurrences rather than seeing the connection between who we
really are and the decisions we make.
Surveys show
that many Christians (including Catholics) who will affirm a pro-life stance as
their ethical position, are often likely to procure an abortion for
convenience, allowing themselves an “exception” in an otherwise unblemished
anti-abortion stance. And an ethical
model which sees actions as individual isolated decisions is useful in sustaining
such illusions. We fail to see the
distorted vision of ourselves and the world which underlies the pattern of our
actions. The character
a person has determines the actions he performs; a person’s actions reveal his
character. Karl Barth has stated this
point well in a section “The Man of Sin in the Light of the Obedience of the
Son of God”:
It is for the whole man, man in his
unity of being and activity, for whom He [Christ] has died–in the ordered
integrated unity in which he does what he is and is what he does. This disposes of the idea that actions are
merely external and accidental and isolated.
They are not, as it were derailments.
A man is what he does. Their
wickedness and folly counts. They are
his wicked thoughts and words and works, and by them he is judged. As the one who does them, who produces these
wicked thoughts and words and works, he is the man of sin who would perish if
Jesus Christ had not taken his place.
Nothing that he does or leaves undone is neutral or indifferent or
irresponsible or outside the sphere of his accountability. He is inwardly the one who expresses himself
in this way outwardly. And this disposes
of the idea of an Ego which is untouched by the evil character of its actions,
an Ego in which a man can remain neutral because he, too, is not touched or
touched only remotely by the evil character of his actions.11
The central
role in our actions is played by moral vision and the judgment about good and evil
actions. The act of judgment was for
Thomas the definition of conscience, and in the next chapter we consider the
formation of Christian moral vision and conscience.
O God, who on this day taught the
hearts of your faithful people
by sending to them the light of your
Holy Spirit:
Grant us by the same Spirit to have a
right judgment in all things,
and evermore to rejoice in his holy
comfort;
through Jesus Christ your Son our
Lord,
who lives and reigns with you, in the
unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
Collect for Pentecost; Book of Common Prayer, 227.