Grice has been, so far, in the early stages of an attempt to estimate the prospects of what Grice shall now rename as an "Aequi-vocality Thesis" with respect to certain common modals — that is, a thesis, or set of theses, with respect to particular common modals, which claims that
they are *univocal* across the practical/alethic divide,
or, if they are multi-vocal, their multi-vocality appears equally on each side of the barrier.
Grice’s strategy has been to put up as good an initial case as he could in favour of representing the use of certain modals on different sides of the barrier as explicable in terms of a single set of acceptability modals, which are to be semantically barrier-indifferent.
The differences between an alethic acceptability and a practical acceptability being attributed to
the semantic differences between judicative and volitive mode-markers (*F' and T),
together with
structural differences,
such as
— the appearance, on the practical side of a "two-slot" antecedent, with a ‘mixed' mode-marker, in an acceptability conditional,
which might reasonably themselves be attributed to a difference between 'H'and 'T.
Grice has so far considered only a volitive acceptability which might be thought of as more or less analogous to Kant's Technical Imperative
and Grice has not yet raised any question about the inferential relations which might obtain across the barrier, in particular about the possibility that volitive acceptabilities (or some of them) might be equivalent to, or inferable from, certain alethic acceptabilities.
It is time to attend to these lacunae, starting with the second.
The existence of such a cross-barrier inferability would be of interest in more than one way.
It would be of interest in itself, as providing some interesting general logical facts;
anyone who regarded a practical acceptability as philosophically problematic, but did not feel the same way about alethic acceptability, might be reassured in so far as he could think of practical acceptabilities as derivable from alethic acceptabilities;
someone who did not regard either variety of acceptability as specially problematic, might well (and no doubt should) regard both as in need of philosophical justification, and it would be a step towards such a justification to show that, provided certain alethic acceptability is justifiable, certain practical acceptability is also justifiable;
the display of such a cross-barrier relation might itself be relevant to the prospects of the "aequi-vocality Thesis".
Grice begins the substantial discussion of this topic by taking a common modal which I have not so far associated with any of the sub-varieties of acceptability, namely, the modal "should".
In a certain sense, this is a slight cheat, since Grice’s purpose in so doing is to cover up some of the intricacies of detail which would complicate matters if he were to proceed with direct reference of modals already invoked;
but as Grice intends shortly to lay bare some of that detail, perhaps Grice’s procedure might be regarded as an expository device, and so as only a temporary cheat.
Let us take as our example the following acceptability sentence:
"To preserve a youthful complexion, if one has a relatively insensitive skin, one should smear one's face with peanut butter before retiring at night."
This fascinating recipe can be thought of as being, in Grice’s scheme of representation, expressible as
It should be, given that let one preserve a youthful complexion and that one has a relatively insensitive skin, that let one smear one's face with peanut butter before retiring",
or
in an abbreviated general symbolism
“Should (! E, - F; I G)".
Now there is at least some initial plausibility in the idea that this practical acceptability statement is satisfactory (qua true) just in case the following alethic acceptability statement is also acceptable (qua true):
"It should be, given that it is the case that one smears one's skin with peanut butter before retiring and that it is the case that one has a relatively insensitive skin, that it is the case that one preserves a youthful complexion."
More generally, there is some plausibility to the idea that an exemplar of the form 'Should (I E, - E; ! G) is true just in case a corresponding examplar of the form Should (FE, -G; FE) is true.
Before proceeding further, Grice will attempt to deal briefly with a possible objection which might be raised at this point.
Grice can imagine an ardent descriptivist, who first complains, in the face of someone who wishes to allow a legitimate autonomous status to practical acceptability generalizations, that truth-conditions for such generalizations are not available, and perhaps are in principle not available;
So such generalizations are not to be taken seriously.
We then point out to him that, at least for a class of such cases, truth-conditions are available, and that they are to be found in related alethic generalizations, a kind of generalization he accepts.
He then complains that, if finding truth-conditions involves representing the practical acceptability generalizations as being true just in case related alethic generalizations are true, practical acceptability generalizations are simply reducible to alethic generalizations, and so are not to be taken seriously for another reason, namely, that they are simply transformations of alethic generalizations, and we could perfectly well get on without them.
Maybe some of you have heard some ardent descriptivists arguing in a style not so very different from this.
Now a deep reply to such an objection would involve (Grice thinks) a display of the need for a system of reasoning in which the value to be transmitted by acceptable inference is not truth but practical value, together with a demonstration of the role of practical acceptability generalizations in such a system.
Grice suspects that such a reply could be constructed, but Grice does not have it at his fingertips (or tongue-tip), so Grice shall not try to produce it.
An interim reply, however, might take the following form:
even though it may be true (which is by no means certain) that certain practical acceptability generalizations have the same truth-conditions as certain corresponding alethic generalizations, it is not to be supposed that the former generalizations are simply reducible to the latter —in some disrespectful sense of reducible.
For though both kinds of generalization are defeasible, they are not defeasible in the same way;
more exactly, what is a defeating condition for a given practical generalization is not a defeating condition for its alethic counterpart.
A generalization of the form '
should (LE, - F; ! G)'
may have, as a defeating condition,
'E"; that is to say, consistently with the truth of this generalization, it may be true that should (! E & | B*, - F: 1G*) where 'G* is inconsistent with 'G.
But since, in the alethic counterpart generalization should (F E, - G; - E):
'E does not occur in the antecedent, '
E* cannot be a defeating condition for this generalization.
And, since liability to defeat by a certain range of defeating conditions is essential to the role which acceptability generalizations play in reasoning, this difference between a practical generalization and its alethic counterpart is sufficient to eliminate the reducibility of the former to the latter.
To return to the main theme of this section.
If, without further ado, we were to accept at this point the suggestion that
'should (I E, - F; I G)
is true just in case
should (F F, F G; F E)
is true, we should be accepting it simply on the basis of intuition (includ-ing, of course, linguistic or logical intuition under the head of "intuition'").
If the suggestion is correct, we should attain, at the same time, a stronger assurance that it is correct and a better theoretical understanding of the alethic and practical acceptability, if we could show why it is correct by deriving it from some general principle.
Kant, in fact, for reasons not unlike these, sought to show the validity of a different but fairly closely related Technical Imperative by just such a method.
The form which he selects is one which, in Grice’s terms, would be represented by
It is fully acceptable, given let it be that B, that let it be that A" or "
It is neces-sary, given let it be that B, that let it be that A".
Applying this to the one fully stated technical imperative given in Grundlegung, we get
"It is necessary, given let it be that one bisect a line on an unerring principle, that let it be that I draw from its extremities two intersecting arcs".
Call this statement, (o).
Though Kant does not express himself very clearly, Grice is certain that Kant’s claim is that this imperative is validated in virtue of the fact that it is, analytically, a consequence of an indicative statement which is true and, in the present context, unproblematic, namely, the statement vouched for by geo-metry, that if one bisects a line on an unerring principle, then one does so only as a result of having drawn from its extremities two intersecting ares.
Call this statement, (B).
Kant’s argument seems to be expressible as follows.
It is analytic that he who wills the end (so far as reason decides his conduct), wills the indispensable means thereto,
So (2) it is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one wills that A, and judges that if A, A as a result of B, one wills that B.
So 3) it is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one judges that if A, A as a result of B, then if one wills that A then one wills that B.
So (4) it is analytic that, if it is true that if A, then A as a result of B, then if let it be that A, then it must be that let it be that B.
From which, by substitution, we derive (5):
it is analytic that if ß o.
Now it seems to me to be meritorious, on Kant's part,
first
that
he saw a need to justify hypothetical imperatives of this sort, which it is only too easy to take for granted, and
second
that
Kant invokes the principle that "he who wills the end, wills the means";
Machiavelli
intuit-ively, this invocation seems right.
Unfortunately, however, the step from (3) to (4) seems open to dispute on two different counts.
It looks as if an unwarranted 'must' has appeared in the consequent of the conditional which is claimed, in (4), as analytic;
the most that, to all appearances, could be claimed as being true of the antecedent is that "if let it be that A let it be that B.
Perhaps more serious.
It is by no means clear by what right the psychological verbs 'judge' and will, which appear in (3), are omitted in (4);
how does an (alleged) analytic connection between (i) judging that if A, A as a result of B and (ii) its being the case that if one wills that A then one wills that B yield an analytic connection between (i) it's being the case that if A, A as a result of B and (ii) the 'proposition' that if let it be that A then let it be that B?
Can the presence in (3) of the phrase "in so far as one is rational" legitimize this step?
Grice does not know what remedy to propose for the first of these two difficulties;
but Grice will attempt a reconstruction of Kant's line of argument which might provide relief from the second.
It might, indeed, even be an expansion of Kant's actual thinking:
but whether or not this is so, Grice is a very long way from being confident in its adequacy.
Let us suppose it to be a fundamental psychological law that, ceteris paribus, for any creature x (of a sufficiently developed kind), no matter what A and B are, if x wills A and judges that if A, A only as a result of B, x wills B.
This I take to be a proper representation of "he who wills the end, wills the indispensable means";
and
in calling it a fundamental law Grice means that it is the law, or one of the laws, from which 'willing' and 'judging' derive their sense as names of concepts which explain behaviour,
So, Grice assumes, to reject it would be to deprive these words of their sense.
If x is a rational creature, since in this case his attitudes of acceptance are at least to some degree under his control (volitive or judicative assent can be withheld or refused), this law will hold for him only if the following is true:
(2) x wills (it is x's will) that (for any A, B) if x wills that A and judges that if A, A only as a result of B, x is to will that B.
In so far as x proceeds rationally, x should will as specified in
only if x judges that if it is satisfactory to will that A and also satisfactory to judge that if A, A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory to will that B;
otherwise, in willing as specified in (2), he will be willing to run the risk of passing from satisfactory attitudes to unsatisfactory ones.
So, given that x wills as specified in (2):
x should (qua rational judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory to will that A and also satisfactory to judge that it A.
A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory to will that B.
Since the satisfactoriness of attitudes of acceptance resolves itself into the satisfactoriness (in the sense distinguished in the previous chapter) of the contents of those attitudes (marked by the appropriate mode-markers), if x judges as specified in (3) then:
(4) x should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory that ! A and also satisfactory that if it is the case that A, A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory that ! B.
And, if x judges as in (4), then (because (A & B → C) yields A → (B → C)):
(5) x should judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory that if A, A only because B, then it is satisfactory that, if let it be that A, then let it be that B.
But if x judges that satisfactoriness is, for any A, B, transmitted in this particular way, then:
x should judge that (for any A, B) if A, A only because B, yields if let it be that A, then let it be that B. But if any rational being should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) the first 'propositional' form yields the second, then the first propositional form does yield the second; so:
(7) (For any A, B) if A, A only because B yields if let it be that A, then let it be that B.
A special apology for the particularly violent disregard of use and mention';
Grice’s usual reason is offered.)
Fig. summarizes the steps of the argument.
1. Kant's steps
a = It is necessary, given let it be that one bisect a line on an unerring prin-
ciple, that let it be that 1 draw from its extremities two intersecting arcs. ß = If one bisects a line on an unerring principle, then one does so only as a result of having drawn from its extremities two intersecting arcs.
It is analytic that (so far as he is rational) he who wills the end wills the
It is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one wills that A, and judges that if A, then A only as a result of B, then one wills that B.
It is analytic that (so far as one is rational) if one judges that if A, A as a result of B, then if one wills that A one wills that B.
It is analytic that if. if A, then A as a result of B, then, if let it be that A, then it must be that let it be that B,
It is analytic that if B, then or.
Reconstruction steps
Fundamental law that (ceteris paribus) for any creature x (for any A, B), if x wills A and judges that if A, then A as a result of B; x wills B.
x wills that (for any A, B) if x wills A and judges that if A, A as a result of B, then x is to will that B,
x should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory to will that A and also satisfactory to judge that if A, A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory to will that B.
× should (qua rational) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory that !
A and also satisfactory that if + A, then I A only as a result of B, then it is satisfactory that ! B.
x should (qr.) judge that (for any A, B) if it is satisfactory that if + A, FA only because B, then it is satisfactory that, if let it be that A, then let
x should (q.r.) judge that (for any A, B) if A, A only because B, yields if let it be that A, then let it be that B.
(For any A. B) if A, A only because B yields if let it be that A, then let it
FiG. 4. Validation of technical acceptabilities
It will be convenient to initiate the discussion of this topic by again referring to Kant.
Kant thought that there is a special sub-class of Hypothetical Imperatives (which he called "counsels of prudence") which were like his class of Technical Imperatives, except in that the end specified in a full statement of the imperative is the special end of Happiness (one's happiness).
To translate into Grice’s terminology, this seems to amount to the thesis that there is a special subclass of, for example, singular practical acceptability conditionals which exemplifies the structure "it is acceptable, given that let a (an indi-vidual) be happy, that let a be (do) G"; an additional indicative sub-antecedent ("that it is the case that a is F") might be sometimes needed, and could be added without difficulty.
There would, presumably, be a corresponding special subclass of acceptability generalizations.
The main characteristics which Kant would attribute to such prudential acceptability conditionals would, I think, be the following.
The foundation for such conditionals is exactly the same as that for technical imperatives; they would be treated as being, in principle, analytically consequences of indicative statements to the effect that so-and-so is a (the) means to such-and-such.
The relation between my doing philosophy now and my being happy would be a causal relation not significantly different from the relation between my taking an aspirin and my being relieved of my headache.
However, though the relation would be the same, the question whether in fact my doing philosophy now will promote my happiness is insoluble; to solve it, I should have to be omniscient. since I should have to determine that my doing philosophy now would lead to "a maximum of welfare in my present and all future circumstances"
The special end (happiness) of specific prudential acceptability conditionals is one which we know that, as a matter of
"natural necessity", every human being has; so, unlike technical imperatives, their applicability to himself cannot be disclaimed by any human being. (4)
Before we bring in the demands of morality (which will prescribe concern for our own “eudaemonia” as a derivative duty), the only positive evaluation of a desire for one's happiness is an alethic evalu-ation; one ought to, or must, desire one's own happiness only in the sense that, whoever one may be, it is acceptable that it is the case that one desire one's own happiness; the 'ought' or 'must' is non-practical.
This position seems to Grice akin to a Humean appeal to "natural dispositions, in place of justification.
Grice would wish to disagree with Kant in two, or possibly three, ways.
Kant, Grice thinks, did not devote a great deal of thought to the nature of “eudaemonia,” no doubt because he regarded it as being of little importance to the philosophical foundations of morality.
So it is not clear whether he regarded happiness as a distinct end from the variety of ends which one might pursue with a view to happiness, rather than as a complex end which includes (in some sense of "include ) some of such ends. If he did regard it as a distinct end, then I think he was wrong.
Grice thinks that he was certainly wrong in thinking of something's being conducive to happiness as being on all fours with, say, something's being conducive to the relief of a headache; as, perhaps, a matter (in both cases) of causal relationship.
Grice would like to think him wrong in thinking that (morality apart) there is no practical interpretation of 'ought' in which one ought to pursue (desire, aim at) one's own happiness.
We have, then, three not unconnected questions which demand
some attention.
What is the nature of happiness?
In what sense (if any) (and why) should I desire, or aim at, my own happiness?
What is the nature of the connection between things which are conducive to happiness and happiness? (What, specifically, is implied by 'conducive?)
Though it is fiendishly difficult, I shall take up question (C) first.
I trust that I will be forgiven if I do not present a full and coherent
answer.
Let us take a brief look at Aristotle. Aristotle was, I think, more
sophisticated in this area.
Though it is by no means beyond dispute, I am disposed to think that he did regard Happiness (eudaemonia) as a complex end 'containing' (in some sense) the ends which are constitutive of happiness; to use the jargon of recent commentators, I suspect he regarded it as an 'inclusive' and not a 'dominant' end.
He certainly thought that one should (practical should') aim at one's own happiness.
(The matter directly relevant to my present purpose.) I strongly suspect that he did not think that the relationship between, say, my doing philosophy and my happiness was a straightforward causal relationship. The passage which I have in mind is Nicomachean Ethics Vl. 12, 13, where he distinguishes between wisdom ("prac-tical wisdom") and cleverness (or, one might say, resourcefulness).
He there makes the following statements: (a) that wisdom is not the same as cleverness, though like it, (b) that wisdom does not exist without cleverness, (c) that wisdom is always laudable (to be wise one must be virtuous), but cleverness is not always laudable, for example, in rogues, (d) that the relation between wisdom and cleverness is analogous to the relation between 'natural' virtue and virtue proper (he says this in the same place as he says (a)).
Faced with these not exactly voluminous remarks, some commentators have been led (not I think without reluctance) to interpret Aristotle as holding that the only difference between wisdom and cleverness is that the former does, and the latter does not, require the presence of virtue; to be wise is simply to be clever in good causes.
Apart from the fact that additional difficulties are generated thereby, with respect to the interpretation of Nicomachean Ethics, to attribute this view to Aristotle does not seem to indicate a very high respect for his wisdom, particularly as the text does not seem to demand such an interpretation.
Following an idea once given to Grice, long ago, by Austin, Grice would prefer to think of Aristotle as distinguishing between the characteristic manifestation of wisdom, namely, the ability to determine what one should do (what should be done), and the characteristic manifestation of cleverness, which is the ability to determine how to do what it is that should be done.
On this interpretation cleverness would plainly be in a certain sense subordinate to wisdom, since opportunity for cleverness (and associated qualities) will only arise after there has been some determination of what it is that is to be done.
It may also be helpful (suggestive) to think of wisdom as being (or being assimilable to) administrative ability, with cleverness being comparable with executive ability. I would also like to connect cleverness, initially, with the ability to recognize (devise) technical acceptabilities (though its scope might be larger than this, while wisdom is shown primarily in other directions.
On such assumptions, expansion of the still obscure Aristotelian distinction is plainly a way of pursuing question (C), or questions closely related to it; for we will be asking what other kinds of acceptabilities (beyond 'technical acceptabilities) we need in order to engage (or engage effectively) in practical reasoning.
I fear my contribution here will be sketchy and not very systematic.
We might start by exploring a little further the 'administrative/ executive distinction, a distinction which, I must admit, is extremely hazy and also not at all hard and fast (lines might be drawn, in different cases, in quite different places).
A boss tells his secretary that he will be travelling on business to such-and-such places, next week, and asks her to arrange travel and accommodation for him.
I suspect that there is nothing peculiar about that.
But suppose, instead of giving her those instructions, he had said to her that he wanted to travel on business somewhere or other, next week, and asked her to arrange destinations, matters to be negotiated, firms to negotiate with, and brief him about what to say to those whom he would visit. That would be a little more unusual, and the secretary might reply angrily, "I am paid to be your secretary, not to run your business for you, let alone run you." What (philosophically) differentiates the two cases?
Let us call a desire or intention D which a man has at t "ter-minal for him at t" if there is no desire or intention which he has at t, which is more specific than D; if, for example, a man wanted at ta car, but it was also true of him that he wanted a Mercedes, then his desire for a car would not be terminal. Now I think we can (roughly) distinguish (at least) three ways in which a terminal desire may be non-specific.
D may be finitely non-specific; for example, a man may want a large, fierce dog (to guard his house) and not care at all what kind of large, fierce dog he acquired; any kind will do (at least within some normal range). Furthermore, he does not envisage his attitude, that any kind will do, being changed when action-time comes; he will of course get some particular kind of dog, but what kind will simply depend on such things as availability.
D may be indeterminately non-specific: that is to say the desirer may recognize, and intend, that before he acts the desire or intention D should be made more specific than it is; he has decided, say, that he wants a large, fierce dog, but has not yet decided what kind he wants. It seems to me that an indeterminately non-specific desire or intention differs from a finitely non-specific desire in a way which is relevant to the application of the concept of means-taking. If the man with the finitely non-specific desire for a large, fierce dog decides on a mastiff, that would be (or at least could be) a case of choosing a mastiff as a means to having a large, fierce dog, but not something of which getting a large, fierce dog would be an effect. But, if the man with the indeterminate desire for a large, fierce dog decides that he wants a mastiff (as a further determination of that indeterminate desire), that is not a case of means-picking at all.
There is a further kind of non-specificity which I mention only with a view to completeness: a desire D may be vaguely, or indefinitely, non-specific; a man may have decided that he wants a large, fierce dog, but it may not be very well defined what could count as a large, fierce dog; a mastiff would count, and a Pekinese would not, but what about a red setter? In such cases the desire or intention needs to be interpreted, but not to be further specified.
With regard to the first two kinds of non-specificity, there are some remarks to be made.
We do not usually (if we are sensible) make our desires more determinate than the occasion demands; if getting a dog is not a present prospect, a man who decides exactly what kind of dog he would like is engaging in fantasy.
The final stage of determination may be left to the occasion of action; if I want to buy some fancy curtains, I may leave the full determination of the kind until I see them in
Circumstances may change the status of a desire; a man may have a finitely non-specific desire for a dog until he talks to his wife, who changes things for him (making his desire inde-terminately non-specific).
Indeterminately non-specific desires may of course be founded (and well founded) on reasons, and so may be not merely desires one does have but also desires which one should have.
We may now return to the boss and his secretary. It seems to me that what the 'normally' behaved boss does (assuming that he has a very new and inexperienced secretary) is to reach a finitely non-specific desire or intention (or a set of such), communicate these to his secretary, and leave to her the implementation of this (these) intention(s); he presumes that nothing which she will do, and no problem which she will encounter, will disturb his intention (for, within reasonable limits, he does not care what she does), even though her execution of her tasks may well involve considerable skill and diplomacy (deinotes). If she is more senior, then he may well not himself reach a finitely, but only an indetermin-ately, non-specific intention, leaving it to her to complete the determination and trusting her to do so more or less as he would himself. If she reaches a position in which she is empowered to make determinate his intentions not as she thinks he would think best, but as she thinks best, then I would say that she has ceased to be a secretary and has become an administrative assistant.
This might be a convenient place to refer briefly to a distine-tion which is of some importance in practical thinking which is not just a matter of finding a means, of one sort or another, to an already fixed goal, and which is fairly closely related to the process of determination which I have been describing. This is the distinction between non-propositional ends, like power, wealth, skill at chess, gardening; and propositional or objective ends, like to get the Dean to agree with my proposal, or that my uncle should go to jail for his peculations of the family money.
Non-propositional ends are in my view universals, the kind of items to be named by mass-terms or abstract nouns. I should like to regard their non-propositional appearance as genuine; I would like them to be not only things which we can be said to pursue, but also things which we can be said to care about; and I would not want to reduce caring about' to 'caring that, though of course there is an intimate connection between these kinds of caring. I would like to make the following points.
Non-propositional ends enter into the most primitive kinds of psychological explanation; the behaviour of lower animals is to be explained in terms of their wanting food, not of their wanting (say) to eat an apple.
Non-propositional ends are characteristically variable in degree, and the degrees are valuationally ordered; for one who wants wealth, a greater degree of wealth is (normally) preferable to a lesser degree.
They are the type, I think, to which ultimate ends which are constitutive of happiness belong; and not without reason, since their non-propositional, and often non-temporal, character renders them fit members of an enduring system which is designed to guide conduct in particular cases.
The process of determination applies to them, indeed, starts with them; desire for power is (say) rendered more determinate as desire for political power; and objectives (to get the position of Prime Minister) may be reached by determination applied to non-propositional ends.
Though it is clear to me that the distinction exists, and that a number of particular items can be placed on one side or another of the barrier, there is a host of uncertain examples, and the distinction is not easy to apply.
Let us now look at things from her (the secretary's) angle.
First, many (indeed most) of the things she does, though perhaps cases of means-finding, will not be cases of finding means of the kind which philosophers usually focus on, namely, causal means. She gets him an air-ticket, which enables, but does not cause, him to travel to Kalamazoo, Michigan; she arranges by telephone for him to stay at the Hotel Goosepimple; his being booked in there is not an effect but an intended outcome of her conversation on the telephone; and his being booked in at that hotel is not a cause of his being booked at a hotel, but a way in which that situation or circumstance is realized. Second, if during her operations she discovers that there is an epidemic of yellow fever at Kalamazoo, she does not (unless she wishes to be fired) go blindly ahead and book him in; she consults him, because something has now happened which will (if he knows of it) disturb his finitely non-specific inten-tion; indeed may confront the boss with a plurality of conflicting (or apparently conflicting) ends or desiderata; a situation which is next in line for consideration. Before turning to it, however, I think 1 should remark that the kind of features which have shown up in this interpersonal transaction are also characteristic of solitary deliberation, when the deliberator executes his own decisions.
We are now, we suppose, at a stage at which the secretary has come back to the boss to announce that if she executes the task given her (implements the decision about what to do which he has reached), there is such-and-such a snag; that is, the decision can be implemented only at the cost of a consequence which will (or which she suspects may) dispromote some further end which he wants to promote, or promote some "counter-end" which he wants to dispromote.
We may remark that this kind of problem is not something which only arises after a finitely non-specific intention has been formed; exactly parallel problems are frequently, though not invariably, encountered on the way towards a finitely non-specific intention or desire. This prompts a further comment on Aristotle's remark that, though wisdom is not identical with cleverness. wisdom does not exist without cleverness.
This dictum covers two distinct truths; first, that if a man were good at deciding what to do, but terrible at executing it (he makes a hash of working out train times, he is tactless with customs officials, he irritates hotel clerks into non-cooperation), one might hesitate to confer upon him the title 'wise'; at least a modicum of cleverness is required Second, and more interestingly, cleverness is liable to be manifested at all stages of deliberation; every time a snag arises in connection with a tentative determination of one's will, provided that the snag is not blatantly obvious, some degree of cleverness is manifested in seeing that, if one does such-and-such (as one contemplates doing), then there will be the undesirable result that so-and-so
The boss may now have to determine how 'deep' the snag is, how radically his plan will have to be altered to surmount it. To lay things out a bit, the boss might (in some sense of might'), in his deliberation, have formed successively a series of indeterminately non-specific intentions (1, L, I... I,), where each member is a more specific determination of its predecessor, and 1, represents the final decision which he imparted to the secretary.
He now (the idea is) goes back to this sequence to find the most general (least specific) member which is such that if he has that intention, then he is saddled with the unwanted consequences.
He then knows where modification is required. Of course, in practice he may very weil not have constructed such a convenient sequence; if he has not, then he has partially to construct one on receipt of the bad news from the secretary, to construct one (that is) which is just sufficiently well filled in to enable him to be confident that a particular element in it is the most generic intention of those he has, which generates the undesirable consequence.
Having now decided which desire or intention to remove, how does he decide what to put in its place? How, in effect, does he
"compound his surviving end or ends with the new desideratum, the attainment of the end (or the avoidance of the counter-end) which has been brought to light by the snag? Now I have to confess that in connection with this kind of problem, I used to entertain a certain kind of picture. Let us label (for simplicity) initially just two ends E' and E?, with degrees of "objective desirability" d and d. For any action a, which might realize E', or E%, there will be a certain probability P, that it will realize E', a certain probability P, that it will realize E, and a probability P., (a function of p, and p.) that it will realize both.
If E' and E are inconsistent (again, for simplicity, let us suppose they are) Pre will be zero. We can now, in principle, characterize the desirability of the action a,, relative to each end (E' and E*), and to each combination of ends (here just E' and E*), as a function of the desirability of the end and the probability that the action a, will realize that end, or combination of ends. If we envisage a range of possible actions, which includes a, together with other actions, we can imagine that each such action has a certain degree of desirability relative to each end (E' and (or) E*) and to their combination.
If we suppose that, for each possible action, these desirabilities can be compounded (perhaps added), then we can suppose that one particular possible action scored higher (in action-desirability relative to these ends) than any alternative possible action; and that this is the action which wins out; that is, is the action which is, or at least should, be performed.
(The computation would in fact be more complex than I have described, once account is taken of the fact that the ends involved are often not definite (determinate) states of affairs (like becoming President), but are variable in respect of the degree to which they might be realized (if one's end is to make a profit from a deal, that profit might be of a varying magnitude); so one would have to consider not merely the likelihood of a particular action's realizing the end of making a profit, but also the likelihood of its realizing that end to this or that degree; and this would considerably complicate the computational problem.)
No doubt most readers are far too sensible ever to have entertained any picture even remotely resembling the "Crazy-Bayesy" one I have just described. I was not, of course, so foolish as to suppose that such a picture represents the manner in which anybody actually decides what to do, though I did (at one point) consider the possibility that it might mirror, or reflect, a process actually taking place in the physiological underpinnings of psychological states (desires and beliefs), a process in the 'animal spirits, so to speak. I rather thought that it might represent an ideal, a procedure which is certainly unrealized in fact, and quite possibly one which is in principle unrealizable in fact, but still something to which the procedures we actually use might be thought of as approxima-tions, something for which they are substitutes; with the additional thought that the closer the approximation the better the procedure.
The inspirational source of such pictures as this seems to me to be the very pervasive conception of a mechanical model for the operations of the soul; desires are like forces to which we are sub-ject; and their influence on us, in combination, is like the vectoring of forces. I am not at all sure that I regard this as a good model; the strength of its appeal may depend considerably on the fact that some model is needed, and that, if this one is not chosen, it is not clear what alternative model is available.
If we are not to make use of any variant of my one-time pic-ture, how are we to give a general representation of the treatment of conflicting or competing ends? It seems to me that, for ex-ample, the accountant with the injured wife in Boise might, in the first instance, try to keep everything, to fulfil all relevant ends; he might think of telephoning Redwood City to see if his firm could postpone for a week the preparation of their accounts. If this is ineffective, then he would operate on some system of priorities.
Looking after his wife plainly takes precedence over attention to his firm's accounting, and over visiting his mother. But having settled on measures which provide adequately for his wife's needs, he then makes whatever adjustments he can to provide for the ends which have lost the day. What he does not do, as a rule, is to com-promise; even with regard to his previous decision involving the conflict between the claims of his firm and his mother, substantially he adopted a plan which would satisfy the claims of the firm, incorporating therein a weekend with mother as a way of doing what he could for her, having given priority to the claims of the firm. Such systems of priorities seem to me to have, among their significant features, the following.
They may be quite complex, and involve sub-systems of priorities within a single main level of priority. It may be that, for me, family concerns have priority over business concerns; and also that, within the area of family concerns, matters affecting my children have priority over matters concerning Aunt Jemima, whs been living with us all these years.
There is a distinction between a standing, relatively long-term system of priorities, and its application to particular occasions, with what might be thought of as divergences between the two.
Even though my relations with my children have, in general, priority over my relations with Aunt Jemima, on a particular occasion I may accord priority to spending time with Aunt Jemima to get her out of one of her tantrums over taking my son to the z00 to see the hippopotami.
It seems to me that a further important feature of practical think-ing, which plays its part in simplifying the handling of problems with which such thinking is concerned, is what I might call its 'revi-sionist character (in a non-practical sense of that term). Our desires, and ascriptions of desirability, may be relative in more than one way.
They may be 'desire-relative in that my desiring A, or my regarding A as desirable, may be dependent on my desiring, or regarding as desirable, B; the desire for, or the desirability of, A may be parasitic on a desire for, or the desirability of, B. This is the familiar case of A's being desired, or desirable for the sake of B. But desires and desirabilities may be relative in another slightly less banal way, which (initially) one might think of as fact-relativity. They may be relative to some actual or supposed prevailing situation; and, relative to such prevailing situations, things may be desired or thought desirable which would not normally be so regarded. A man who has been sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered may be relieved and even delighted when he hears that the sentence has been changed to beheading; and a man whose wealth runs into hundreds of millions may be considerably upset if he loses a million or so on a particular transaction.
Indeed, sometimes, one is led to suspect that the richer one is, the more one is liable to mind such decre-ments; witness the story, no doubt apocryphal, that Paul Getty had pay-telephones installed in his house for the use of his guests.
The phenomenon of 'fact-relativity scems to reach at least to some extent into the area of moral desirabilities.
It can be used, I think, to provide a natural way of disposing of the Good Samaritan paradox; and if one recalls the parable of the Prodigal Son, one may reflect that what incensed the for so long blameless son was that there should be all that junketing about a fact-relative desirability manifested by his errant brother; why should one get a party for that?
It perhaps fits in very well with these reflections that our practical thinking, or a great part of it, should be revisionist or incremental in character; that what very frequently happens is that we find something in the prevailing situation (or the situation anticipated as prevailing) which could do with improvement or remove a blemish. We do not, normally, set to work to construct a minor Utopia, It is notable that aversions play a particularly important role in incremental deliberations; and it is perhaps just that (up to a point) the removal of objects of aversion should take precedence over the installation of objects of desire. If I have to do without something which I desire, the desired object is not (unless the desire is extreme) constantly present in imagination to remind me that 1 am doing without it; but if I have to do or have something which 1 dislike, the object of aversion is present in reality, and so difficult to escape.
This revisionist kind of thinking seems to me to extend from the loftiest problems (how to plan my life, which becomes how to improve on the pattern which prevails) to the smallest (how to arrange the furniture); and it extends also, at the next move so to speak, to the projected improvements which I entertain in thought; I seck to improve on them; a master chess-player, it is said, sees at once what would be a good move for him to make; all his thought is devoted to trying to find a better one.
When one looks at the matter a little more closely, one sees that'fact-relative' desirability is really desirability relative to an anti-cipated, expected, or feared temporal extension of the actual state of affairs which prevails (an extension which is not necessarily identical with what prevails, but which will come about unless something is done about it). And looked at a little more closely still, such desires or desirabilities are seen to be essentially comparat-ive; what we try for is thought of as better than the anticipated state which prompts us to try for it.
This raises the large and difficult question, how far is desirability of its nature comparative? Is it just that the pundits have not yet given us a non-comparative concept of desirability, or is there something in the nature of desire, or in the use we want to make of the concept of desirability, which is a good reason why we cannot have, or should not have, a non-comparative concept? Or, perhaps, we do have one, which operates only in limited regions? Certainly we do not have to think in narrowly incremental ways, as is attested by those who seek to comfort us (or discomfort us) by getting us to count our blessings (or the reverse); by, for example, pointing out that being beheaded is not really so hot, or that, if you have 200 million left after a bad deal, you are not doing so badly.
Are such comforters abandoning comparative desirability, or are they merely shifting the term of comparison? Do we find non-comparative desirability (perhaps among other regions) in moral regions? If we say that a man is honest, we are likely to mean that he is at least not less honest than the average; but we do not expect a man, who wants or tries to be honest, just to want or try to be averagely honest. Nor do we expect him to aspire to supreme or perfect honesty (that might be a trifle presumptuous). We do expect, perhaps, that he try to be as honest as he can, which may mean that we don't expect him to form aspirations with regard to a lifetime record of any sort for honesty, but we do expect him to try on each occasion, or limited bunch of occasions, to be impeccably honest on those occasions, even though we know (and he knows) that on some occasions at some times there will or may be lapses. If something like this interpretation be correct, it may correspond to a general feature of universals (non-propositional ends) of which one cannot have too much, a type of which certain moral universals are specimens; desirabilities in the case of such universals are, perhaps, not com-parative. But these are unworked-out speculations.
To summarize briefly this rambling, hopefully somewhat dia-gnostic, and certainly unsystematic discussion. I have suggested, in a preliminary enquiry into practical acceptability which is other than technical acceptability:
that practical thinking, which is not just means-end think-ing, includes the determination or sharpening of anteced-ently indeterminate desires and intentions;
that means-end thinking is involved in the process of such determination;
that a certain sort of computational model may not be suitable;
that systems of priorities, both general and tailored to occasions, are central;
that much, though not perhaps all, of practical thinking is revisionist and comparative in character.
I turn now to a brief consideration of questions (A) and (B) which I distinguished earlier, and left on one side. These questions
are:
What is the nature of happiness?
In what sense, and why, should I desire or aim at my own happiness?
1 shall take them together.
First, question (B) seems to me to divide, on closer examina-tion, into three further questions.
Is there justification for the supposition that one should, other things being equal, voluntarily continue one's existence, rather than end it?
Given that the answer to (1) is 'yes.) Is there justification for the idea that one should desire or seck to be happy?
(Given that the answer to (2) is 'yes.) Is there a way of justifying (evaluating favourably) the acceptance of some particular set of ends (as distinct from all other such sets) as constitutive of happiness (or of my happiness)? The second and third questions, particularly the third, are closely related to, and likely to be dependent on, the account of happiness provided in answer to question (A); indeed, such an account might wholly or partly provide an answer to question (3), since
"happiness" might turn out to be a value-paradigmatic term, the meaning of which dictates that to be happy is to have a combination of ends which (the combination) is valuable with respect to some particular purpose or point of view.
I shall say nothing about the first two questions; one or both of these would, I suspect, require a careful treatment of the idea of Final Causes, which so far I have not even mentioned. I will discuss the third question and question (A) in the next chapter. H. P. Grice


No comments:
Post a Comment