- 1 More specifically, his ideas as set out in Mind and the World-Order (Lewis & Frye 1929), Symbolic L (...)
- 2 Part of the draft materials Lewis was working on was eventually published posthumously in Values an (...)
1C. I. Lewis may be most well-known for his logical contributions and his conception of a pragmatic a priori; but it is towards ethics that he devoted most of his attention in the later years of his life. That said, it would be wrong to view his ethical theory as separate and independent from his earlier works on logic, epistemology and value.1 In fact, Lewis himself intends that all of his other major works would connect and unite under his ultimate project on ethics (2017b [unpub.]). Unfortunately, Lewis passed away in 1964 and his final project did not come to fruition.2 Despite only having fragments of Lewis’s thoughts on the topic, I will attempt to reconstruct the outline of the overall ethical framework Lewis was working towards; and while doing so, to also show how his pragmatic conception of the a priori is critical in laying out the key arguments that ground his entire ethical theory.
2This paper will proceed as follows: in the next section, I will briefly outline Lewis’s views in “A Pragmatic Conception of the A Priori” (1923). I will then discuss how he used the idea set out therein to formulate an argument against the moral skeptic – an argument that he refers to as the “pragmatic contradiction.” The second half of this paper sets out Lewis’s basic ethical framework and goes on to show how Lewis uses the pragmatic contradiction argument to develop imperatives that guide our moral deliberations. I conclude with a brief evaluation of how well the pragmatic contradiction argument fares against the moral skeptic.
- 3 See Beck 1968, and Heney 2017 for more detailed discussions on how Lewis follows and differs from K (...)
3While we can see Kant’s influence in Lewis’s thought,3 Lewis’s concept of the a priori is fundamentally non-Kantian. Most notably, Lewis disagrees that the a priori is necessarily true, in that it may be alterable. Consider Lewis’s example “2 + 2 = 4” (1923: 171). Traditionally, when we say that this is true a priori (as opposed to a posteriori), we mean that nothing in our experience can change its truth value. And it is precisely this disconnect with experience that leads Lewis to argue that such a priori truths in themselves do not really tell us anything about the physical world. These propositions impose no limitation on actual experience and are in fact compatible with whatever may happen. Think carefully about how “2 + 2 = 4” can really affect our experience: It is not a guarantee of what must happen when I put two and two things together; it cannot ensure against chemical changes or illusions. When I put two apples together with another two but five appears, will I now think that “2 + 2 = 4” is false? Unlikely. I would rather think that I am dreaming or hallucinating, or any other possible explanations before I even consider rejecting “2 + 2 = 4.” In a way, this is my choice, that I choose to maintain the truth of “2 + 2 = 4.” This is why instead of thinking of them as representing something true about the world, Lewis refers to all such a priori principles as “a stipulation of the mind,” and “an attitude […] freely taken” (1923: 169). Accordingly, all principles of logic, arithmetic, inference, classifications, etc. are just human creations, assumptions that we choose to adopt and maintain to aid our thoughts and understanding.
4All this is not to say the a priori is not important to our pursuit of knowledge. In fact, here, Lewis agrees with Kant that such concepts are indispensable for human understanding. No knowledge is possible without concepts of logic, arithmetic, inference and classifications; a priori concepts are a system of rules and procedures which serve as our minimum framework of understanding. We need it to make sense of our empirical experiences and navigate the world. Although the a priori stipulations alone cannot tell us anything about our experience, they do function as our criteria to apprehend things; they are intellectual instruments that make inquiry possible; they are needed to obtain actual empirical knowledge. However, this also implies that a priori concepts are subject to alteration. After all, they are only instruments, they are there only to facilitate human understanding. Unlike brute facts, there is nothing in their fundamental nature that forces us to accept and adopt them. As Lewis notes “I am coerced only by my own need to understand” (1923: 175). Thus, if the physical world changes drastically or where extreme recalcitrant experiences happen, we may discover that certain long-established a priori concepts are no longer useful in helping our understanding. They are not technically rendered “false” since they were merely stipulations in the first place; instead, they would be considered useless and ousted as they lose their instrumental value.
5If the a priori in itself cannot really give us knowledge about the world, what else do we need in our pursuit of the truth? Lewis concludes his paper with the following:
[…] through all our knowledge runs the element of the a priori, which is indeed malleable to our purpose and responsive to our need. But throughout, there is also that other element of experience which is “hard,” “independent,” and unalterable to our will. (1923: 177; my emphasis)
6The “element of the a priori” and the “element of experience” – this is the two-part structure that Lewis gives us in relation to knowledge and belief. When we have to answer the question “Is X true?,” we need both the brute hard empirical facts from experience and we need also the a priori concepts that make inquiry and understanding of the experience possible. We will see in section 4 that when Lewis goes on to tackle the ethical question of “Is X the right action?,” he adopts a very similar two-part structure in his answer.
- 4 Lewis uses this argument in more or less the same way in several papers, including: “Practical and (...)
7Lewis never gave us an explicit and comprehensive account of how his conception of the a priori may apply to ethical questions. What he did instead is to develop what he calls the “pragmatic contradiction” argument against the moral skeptic.4 A pragmatic contradiction is different from the usual logical contradiction. It is not claiming that the content of the proposition itself is self-contradictory. Instead, it points to the contradiction between the act of asserting the proposition and the content of the proposition. To use Lewis’s favourite example: For Epimenides the Cretan to assert that all Cretans are liars is a pragmatic contradiction (1969 [1959]: 67). The proposition “All Cretans are liars” in itself is not problematic, it can be true without leading to any contradictions. But a problem arises when Epimenides asserts it. This is because an act of assertion carries with it the supposition that the speaker wishes to be taken seriously, to be given credibility, to be able to persuade. This means by making an assertion, Epimenides is hoping to be taken seriously; yet, the content of what he says is the exact opposite of this intent. Lewis explains how this argument relates to his view of the a priori:
A rule of decision is valid a priori if the repudiation of it would be self-contravening – a pragmatic contradiction. Such a non-repudiable principle is “pragmatically a priori.” (Lewis 1957: 100)
8Here, Lewis makes clear the relationship between the various concepts: “pragmatic contradiction” is the test for whether a certain rule, imperative or principle is non-repudiable; and if such a rule, imperative or principle is indeed non-repudiable, it is also “pragmatically a priori.” Recall how Lewis sees the a priori as something indispensable for human understanding and inquiry. While this does not make the a priori “true,” it is what makes justified belief and knowledge possible in the first place. In the same way, to reject the pragmatically a priori would be to take away the framework and foundation of our decision-making and deliberation. And, as we will see, this is precisely the mistake Lewis argues the moral skeptic is making.
9For Lewis, ethical judgments are as objective as scientific empirical statements. Most of us would agree that the statement “snow is white” is objective and falsifiable; and for Lewis, so is the statement “democracy is good.” How each of these can be verified may be different, but it is in the nature of both statements that they can be verified as true or false by the course of experience. For Lewis, there are objective categorical moral imperatives that apply universally, imperatives of right action that everyone ought to obey. The moral skeptic disagrees that there is any kind of objective moral imperative. In Lewis’s time, moral skepticism often took the form of relativism or emotivism – both of which claim that there is no fact of the matter to ethics and that statements such as “democracy is good” or “you should keep your promises” are not capable of being determined objectively true or false. Lewis’s strategy is to use pragmatic contradiction as a reductio ad absurdum against these positions. The contradiction will become apparent as soon as we understand how Lewis views the relationship between indicatives and imperatives.
10According to Lewis, all objective factual statements contain advice for rational action (1969 [1956]: 118), and are “correlative with […] some set of hypothetical statements of the consequences of possible action” (1970 [1954]: 223). To use his own example: “The stove is hot” is a statement of empirical fact. But if I am to say this to someone else, what it implies is so much more. For example, it implies the statement “If you touch the stove, you will get burnt,” or more directly it means “Don’t touch the stove”; and at the very minimum, it is an imperative for the hearer to respond by believing that the stove is hot. For Lewis, indicative and imperative statements are just different verbal forms (2017d [unpub.]: 72). This practical significance of empirical statements is a key tenet in pragmatism: a statement is meaningless and has no point if “it makes no difference to anybody or to anything” (1969 [1956]: 119). The significance of any statement lies in its potential to affect someone’s beliefs and actions; and for Lewis, “all truth has normative significance and constitutes an imperative for action” (1969 [1949]: 128).
- 5 For a more detailed discussion on how Lewis responds to the moral skeptic, see Dayton 1977.
11How does this argument work against the skeptic? Let us first consider the “Extreme Skeptic” – someone who rejects any kind of objective imperatives, who claims that there is absolutely no objective “ought” statements under any situation. When such a skeptic announces that “There are no objective imperatives,” it is problematic in two ways: Firstly, this seemingly factual statement implies an imperative. The skeptic is in effect advising that we should stop looking for objective ethical truths; or that we ought to believe his assertion as true (hereinafter, the “Imperative Mood Argument”). Secondly, for the skeptic’s statement to actually mean something, it must affect our beliefs and actions somehow. For example, we should take into account his advice the next time we are deliberating. But what does it mean to take certain advice into account? This will often involve weighing evidence for and against its justification, considering how it fits into my other beliefs, and how it might apply to the facts. But to do this, I need to appeal to various a priori principles, such as rules of inference, or principles governing consistency and cogency etc. All these principles are objective imperatives that I adopt in order to make sense of the world and to make deliberation possible (hereinafter, the “Deliberation Argument”). Thus, this Extreme Skeptic is self-contradictory in two ways: first, per the Imperative Mood Argument, he is saying there are no objective imperatives but what he says actually implies giving an imperative for our future actions. His view is that there is nothing we “ought” to do or believe objectively, yet he is advising we “ought” to stop looking for objective truths. Secondly, per the Deliberation Argument, objective imperatives (such as rules of valid inference) are necessary for us to take the skeptic’s claim seriously. Yet, the skeptic is rejecting the thing that makes his claim meaningful in the first place. Thus, while the content of such Extreme Skepticism itself may be true and consistent, anyone who asserts “there are no normative judgments which are genuinely valid” (1969 [1959]: 68) commits a pragmatic contradiction.5
12The above arguments are directed towards the rare extreme forms of skepticism. But what about the less extreme skeptics? There are “Practical Imperative Skeptics” – those who accept logical and rational imperatives as ways that govern our thinking, beliefs and knowledge; and only reject any objective practical imperatives for doing and action. The key point here is the separation of thinking from doing, which is clearly in tension with the basic tenet of pragmatism, as Lewis says:
[…] there can be no final separation of knowing from doing, of theoretical from practical, of cognitive aims from the ends of action. Thinking is itself a way of acting […]. (1969 [1949]: 127; my emphasis)
The validity of thinking is not finally separable from the validity of deliberate doing, because the deliberation itself is a manner of doing, and the deliberate doing is its characteristic and determined consequence. (Ibid.; my emphasis)
- 6 This argument relies on the credibility of a pragmatic theory of knowledge, see Lewis’s earlier wor (...)
13Lewis understands “action” broadly – thinking, believing and deliberating all involve “action” in one way or another. We cannot completely sever the mental process from the action itself. A belief is not a belief if it does not make a difference in our choices when interacting with the world; or in Lewis’s own words: “thinking has no point unless it bears upon our doing” (2017c [unpub.]: 6). As such, accepting imperatives for thinking, beliefs and knowledge is already, in a way, accepting imperatives for doing and action. This is the main idea in the pragmatic theory of knowledge.6 Thus for Lewis, all imperatives share the same basic nature, whether it be logical (“If P then Q; P, therefore Q”); or rational (such as the principle of consistency); or moral (“be helpful to your neighbour”). It is not the case that the former two relate to thinking while the last relates to action. Instead, all of these serve as guides for our future actions; they are all, in one way or another, practical imperatives. So, how well does the Practical Imperative Skeptic fare compared to the Extreme Skeptic? On the Imperative Mood Argument: recall how indicative statements always imply imperatives. When asserting “there are no objective imperatives of action,” the Practical Imperative Skeptic may argue that it is not a pragmatic contradiction, because the imperative mood implied here is merely that we should believe and think that the statement is true but the assertion contains no advice for action. But, as Lewis argues, believing and thinking are inseparable from “acting,” all of which involves making a difference towards a future choice. At the very least, isn’t the skeptic suggesting that we should act according to the belief that “there are no objective imperatives of action”? In this way, the Practical Imperative Skeptic makes the exact same mistake as the Extreme Skeptic: The content of the assertion contradicts what is implied by the act of assertion. As for the Deliberation Argument: does the Practical Imperative Skeptic reject imperatives that make her assertion meaningful in the first place? The Practical Imperative Skeptic in fact accepts logical and rational imperatives, and a priori principles that provide a framework for understanding. This skeptic gladly accepts these imperatives because these are typically thought of as rational imperatives for “thinking” instead of practical imperatives for “acting.” But as Lewis argues, thinking is a way of acting; and all imperatives are by nature the same. Thus, the Practical Imperative Skeptic is actually contradicting the content of her own assertion by relying on any logical or rational imperatives in order to make her assertion intelligible.
14The real problem for Lewis is actually an even less extreme form of moral skepticism, the “Moral Imperative Skeptic” – someone who accepts that there are objective practical imperatives, such as principles of consistency and prudence but rejects any narrower sense moral imperatives, that is, imperatives related to other agents such as “be a helpful neighbour.” For this, we need to dig deeper into Lewis’s ethical theory. In the following sections, I will first try to reconstruct Lewis’s overall ethical framework, and attempt to explain how he uses the pragmatic contradiction argument to show that there are indeed objective moral imperatives in relation to our duty towards others.
- 7 As mentioned, Lewis never completed his project on ethics. But we do have some materials he worked (...)
15Recall in answering the question “Is X true?” Lewis tells us that we need both the “element of the a priori” and the “element of experience.” Lewis proposes a similar two-part structure when dealing with the ethical question of “Is X the right action?” He says:
Any conclusion as to the rightness of doing in a concrete case calls for premises of two sorts. First, it requires some presumption as to rightness itself or the specific kind of rightness which is in question. It is such a premise which introduces the norm. And second, it requires some further premise or premises which introduce particularities of the case to be decided and relate it to the norm or rule of right doing. (1969 [1956]: 109; my emphasis)
- 8 Alternatively, see Heney 2017 for a tripartite interpretation of Lewis’s view.
16Thus, there is (1) the law or norm, or imperative as we have been referring to it (Lewis calls this the major premise); and (2) the particular facts of the case (Lewis calls this the minor premise).8 To illustrate with an example: I am deciding whether to help a friend move. A possible imperative would be “Always be a helpful friend”; or an egoist would adopt principles such as “Help a friend only if it ultimately benefits me.” To properly formulate and justify such principles is one of the most difficult issues in ethics. But let us set this aside for the moment and look at the minor premise – the particular empirical facts. What Lewis is referring to here is the relevant judgments and predictions of value-effects – what good or bad the contemplated action will bring to the lives of those affected. Will helping my friend move be good for her? Will it benefit me? Without considering such value-effects, the principle alone only gives us a criterion for judgment but cannot tell us what to do in any given situation. “Be a helpful friend” does not necessarily mean I should help my friend move, especially if I am really clumsy and keep breaking things. We always need to examine the action itself and consider what empirical effects it may bring, in order to properly determine how the principle would apply. For Lewis, this minor premise – the empirical facts, the judgment and prediction of value-effects, and, more specifically, predicting the potential “good” – lies at the core of all ethical theories, but is often neglected in ethical debates. Let us first look at this minor premise and how the pragmatic contradiction argument is important here.
- 9 See also Misak 2014 and 2016 for a more detailed discussion on how Lewis distinguishes between diff (...)
17To some, calling value-effects “empirical facts” sounds like an oxymoron. For the positivists and other empiricists in Lewis’s time, matters of the senses belong to the realm of science, of physics; these are objective and verifiable; these are matters of facts. On the other hand, values are often considered subjective and expressive, not suitable for cognitive judgments nor verifications. But this is not the case for Lewis. Lewis’s kind of empiricism sees value-judgments such as “The flower is beautiful” or “Apples are good for you” as representing a form of empirical knowledge and just as objective as statements like “The flower is red.” What affects the objectivity of a statement is not its subject matter (i.e. physics vs ethics); rather, the difference lies in the form and meaning we give to the statement itself. Compare the three scenarios: (i) when I’m enjoying the pizza I am eating and utter the words “This pizza is good”; (ii) when I pull a pizza fresh out of the oven, I say “This pizza will taste good when I eat it”; and (iii) when you ask me what I think of pizza and I say “Pizza tastes good.” In all of the scenarios, I connect the subject “pizza” with the predicate “good,” yet the meanings conveyed are quite different. Lewis refers to the first as “expressive statements,” the second as “terminating judgments”; and the last as “non-terminating judgments” (1970 [1941]: 163-4).9
- 10 I adapted this example from Lewis (1970 [1936]: 153). See also Heney 2016 for a more detailed discu (...)
18Expressive statements – These statements merely report on the immediate quality of experiences – what I see, hear or feel. They do not refer to any objects outside of myself; they say nothing beyond what appears to me. When saying “This pizza is good,” I am not judging the quality of the pizza, I am not making a prediction that I will take another bite; instead it is more akin to me saying “Yum!” Expressive statements are not judgments on the object, it is not capable of being “wrong” (other than the speaker lying). Or, more precisely, the speaker cannot be mistaken about its truth. Its complete certainty means it is not an appropriate candidate for verification, since there can be no doubt about it nor a possibility of error. According to Lewis, we use expressive statements for both value-properties and non-value-properties such as “red” or “2-feet long.” Both properties are given to us in experience as immediate sense-qualities. When I touch a stove, “hot” and “painful” hit me immediately and simultaneously. It is not the case that the sense of “hot” comes first, and I then judge that it is painful. Instead, the two are conjoined and I perceive both at the same time as part of my experience.10 These statements are all empirical and form the basis for all of our empirical knowledge. The fact that we can experience goodness and badness is the ultimate basis for why ethics is meaningful. If no conscious life can ever enjoy anything or suffer from anything, there is no reason nor basis for us to decide whether an action is right or wrong, because either way it makes no difference to anyone, anywhere. As Lewis says “without values there would be no imperatives” (1970 [1954]: 221). But to take the step from our immediate experience of goodness to ethical imperatives, we need to make “judgments.”
19Terminating judgments – This brings us to the statement “This pizza will taste good when I eat it” as a terminating judgment. Making a judgment means that I am not merely expressing an immediate feeling I am experiencing – I am not currently eating the pizza as I utter the statement, but am just looking at it and making a prediction of possible future experiences in relation to the pizza. For Lewis, this is an objectively verifiable fact, something that can be judged as true or false. While I could not be mistaken when I utter an expressive statement, I could be wrong when I judge that the pizza will taste good. Judgments represent a form of objective knowledge which is empirically verifiable. The statement in the second scenario is “terminating” in the sense that it is referring to a single possible future experience. If I go ahead and eat the pizza, I can “decisively and completely” verify whether my judgment of it is true or false (1970 [1941]: 164). Again, this applies regardless of the subject matter. “This pizza will taste good when I eat it” is equally verifiable as “The stove will burn my hand when I touch it.” I can eat the pizza to test whether I enjoy any “goodness”; and I can touch the stove to test whether I get burnt. Both can be decisively verified and falsified by certain conscious experiences.
20Non-terminating judgments – Similar to terminating judgments, when I say “Pizza tastes good,” it is also a judgment verifiable by objective facts, it is something I could be wrong about, and its truth can be tested in future experiences. The difference is that the verification process here is “non-terminating.” This is because “Pizza tastes good” is a general statement about a class of things. For as long as there is pizza, we can forever test whether the judgment is true or false. In this way, we can understand non-terminating judgments as consisting of infinite terminating judgments. Each confirmation of “This pizza will taste good when I eat it” makes the truth of “Pizza tastes good” more probable. But this also means that verification for non-terminating judgments is “empirically inexhaustible” (1970 [1941]: 164). We can never get a decisive confirmation and can never be certain whether a non-terminating judgment is true or false. Whereas I can go ahead and eat the pizza to confirm once and for all whether the terminating judgment (“This pizza will taste good when I eat it”) is true, the same action cannot completely verify whether the non-terminating judgment (“Pizza tastes good”) is true. That said, the lack of certainty does not imply the lack of objectivity. Its truth still depends on empirical experience – positive experiences increase its probability of being true, whereas recalcitrant experiences can potentially and conclusively falsify the non-terminating judgment.
21So, for any ethical decision, we must first address the minor premise, we must make a judgment of “What good does action X brings?” This can be a terminating judgment or a non-terminating judgment. Either way, it is in this judgment that Lewis’s conception of the a priori plays a critical role.
22How do we make a judgment of what “good” action X may bring? Lewis notes that we actually can never know with certainty the consequences of our actions, the best we can do is to predict the probability of an outcome:
At the time when we must decide action, we can never be certain about that kind of fact, but we can think cogently about it – barring some ungetoverable stupidity. And this is the same as to say that we can correctly weigh the probability affecting it, on all the evidence available to us. If we so determine cogently the probable goodness or badness of the alternatives open to us, and conform our action to what offers the best assurance of good results, we shall be doing the best that it is humanly possible to do […]. (1969 [1959]: 43)
23In deciding what to do, I have to guess what will happen in the future as a result of my action. For a terminating judgment, I have to guess whether helping my friend move this Saturday is good; alternatively, for a non-terminating judgment, I have to guess whether inventing a nuclear bomb will bring more good than harm. In both cases, there are future unknowns and uncertainties. But Lewis is saying that this doesn’t mean I am free to guess in whatever manner I prefer. I cannot just follow my gut feeling or just guess blindly. The potential consequences of my action are empirical and objective matters. Thus, the only way to arrive at the right answer is through proper inquiry; the probability of the outcome has to be “correctly determined from its data” (1969 [1959]: 37). What this is effectively saying is that, even before we decide on what moral principles to adopt, at the first step in our process of deciding what we ought to do, there are already imperatives in place that govern the cognitive validity of our decision and judgment-forming process. Lewis sometimes refers to these as “technical principles” (1969 [1959]: 8) or “rational imperatives” (1969 [1953]). Lewis never clearly set out a complete list of such imperatives. But there are two recurrent themes in his writings which are obvious: consistency and cogency.
24Consistency – The concept of consistency is prominent in many of Lewis’s published writings. But he highlighted its importance particularly in the draft preface for the book he was writing on ethics:
Consistency is a basic matter, fundamentally the same in logic, in our cognizing, and in the values which we set on things, and in the purpose of action which purpose we take to be justified to pursue. Consistency is a key concept of the normative at large […] Consistency is of the essence of all rational self-criticism and self-direction. (2017b [unpub.]: 2-3)
25For Lewis, there is consistency in thinking, and consistency in doing. Logic are rules for consistent thinking. It ensures that our beliefs are mutually compatible and not self-contradictory. Consistency in what we do (Lewis sometimes refers to it as practical consistency) means avoiding commitments and actions that will, by nature, lead to self-frustration. It ensures that our deliberate actions are mutually compatible (2017e [unpub.]: 76). Going back to the example on whether I should help my friend move: in determining and predicting what good my actions may bring, I must not rely on inconsistent beliefs. For example, I cannot rest my decision on the beliefs that: (i) she has no other friends; and (ii) if I do not help her move, another one of her friends will help her out. The two beliefs cannot both be true. I also should not arrive at conclusions that are mutually incompatible. For example, I should not decide to help her move and plan to work on this paper at the exact same time. The decisions are practically inconsistent and one of my plans is bound to be frustrated.
26Cogency – Lewis is not entirely clear on what “cogency” entails. He defines cogent thinking as “logically justifiable thinking” and incogent thinking as “that which disregards or contravenes the rules of logic” (1969 [1959]: 64). Does cogent simply mean logical? In some of his writings, he suggests that the requirement of cogency is in addition to and goes beyond what is required by consistency and logic. For example, Lewis considers that cogency is what distinguishes sophistry from science. While sophistical conclusions may, in rare instances, be both consistent and logical, they will always fail the test of cogency (1969 [1953]: 165). The key to cogent thinking seems to be the ability to take into account all relevant evidence available. Lewis says “[…] one may be incogent, not by reason of dealing fallaciously with what comes to his attention, but by failing to attend to what calls for attention in relation to the problem in hand” (1970 [1952]: 206). To understand cogency this way means to properly respect the force of empirical experiences. The evidence is that millions died because of Covid-19, even if I find the conspiracy theory appealing and entertaining. The external reality happens regardless of my personal likings and subjective beliefs. And in our deliberation, Lewis says that it is imperative that we consider and weigh evidence according to how it actually relates to our action and the world, rather than to pick and choose according to our personal kinks and preferences. That said, the requirement of cogency does not mean we need omniscient foresight in order to do the right thing; it is not saying that our predictions of the consequences of our actions have to be impeccable and match perfectly with what will happen (1969 [1959]: 36). As long as we properly take into account all past and present evidence available to us at the time of decision, we would have done our human best, our decision would have been “right” regardless of whether any “good” actually come about as predicted.
27For every single deliberation, every time I decide what I ought to do, Lewis argues that it is a “nonrepudiable imperative” for me to consider consistently and cogently all available empirical evidence (1969 [1956]: 107). And these rational imperatives apply regardless of what moral principles I adopt under the major premise, whether I am a Kantian, utilitarianist, or hedonist. But why? Why must we abide by consistency and cogency imperatives in all our deliberations? The answer lies in the pragmatic contradiction argument, based on his conception of the a priori. For cogency, he says:
[…] one who should repudiate the imperative to respect cogency in argument would forfeit his license to participate in any forum where thinking is regarded as a serious business. (1969 [1959]: 66-7)
28He says something similar for logical principles including consistency:
[…] one who denies the validity of the imperative of logical principles falls into [a pragmatic contradiction]; he would implicitly assert that no statement made or believed constrains us to believe any so-called logical consequence of it, as against any rival assertion, including what it contradicts. (1969 [1958]: 198)
29As in the case of the Extreme Skeptic, the contradiction here arises from the assertion, from an action that implies seriousness when putting forward the view. Consider the assertion: “We need not be cogent and consistent in our deliberations.” This in itself carries no logical contradiction. But what it implies is that the speaker is not cogent when she decides to adopt such a view; it also implies that the speaker does not necessarily disagree with any of the other rival views (such as Lewis’s view) since consistency is no longer a concern. Whoever makes such an assertion therefore discredits herself; she loses any ability to persuade and we can no longer take her seriously. What this also means is that cogency and consistency are a priori principles. Without such rational imperatives, we can’t even start to understand and make sense of deliberation and moral concepts. If I could simply twist and bend evidence into whatever I like, if I could freely interpret reality with no limitation, all norms and principles would become meaningless and the activity of deliberation itself would lose all purpose. Justifications for these rational imperatives therefore stem from the fact that ethics is based on the objective value of experiencing the good and all our actions are closely tied to the outside empirical world. Cogency and consistency are the tools that we need to deal with the objective and the empirical; they are, according to Lewis, a priori imperatives.
- 11 I will show in the next section how Lewis expressly argues against the hedonist. While his overall (...)
- 12 Lewis does not give an explicit argument for why the good in experience is the only thing valuable (...)
- 13 It is worth noting that Lewis’s view differs from Kant in regards to the relationship between the “ (...)
30This is not to say that whatever action we cogently and consistently judge will bring “goodness” will be the right action. This is a subtle, but crucial point in understanding Lewis’s ethical theory, a point that has often been passed over by early critics of Lewis’s view. Mothersill (1968) discusses how Lewis’s theory may just be another version of hedonism or utilitarianism; Ewing (1968), who has a better grasp of Lewis’s distinction between the good and the right, also worries that Lewis is sympathetic to hedonistic and utilitarian views. Lewis himself denies these (1968), rejecting both ethical theories, at least in their most traditional sense.11 Hedonism and utilitarianism both take what is good as what is right – the former says what brings the greatest good for me is right, and the latter says what brings the greatest good for all is right. But Lewis never intends to equate the two concepts. Mothersill and Ewing both make the mistake of thinking that since Lewis sees the “good” as something valuable, it must, in one way or another, imply that we ought to pursue it.12 But Lewis is unequivocal, especially in his later writings, that the two concepts are “related but distinct” (2017f [unpub.]: 129). What is “good” is only part of the formula, a necessary condition, in our determination of what is “right.”13 But by itself, the “good” is not sufficient in deciding what ought we do in a given situation. One main reason is that the good comes in different forms, and the various “goods” may conflict with one another. There is: the good in the immediate passing experience (embraced by the hedonists); the good in life as a whole (captured by the concept of prudence); and the good of other people outside of the agent herself (this is usually the focus of moral debates). How to weigh and balance each of these “goods” is a question for the major premise.
- 14 See in particular Chapter 5 of The Ground and Nature of the Right (1955) and “The Rational Imperati (...)
31Having cogently and consistently decided that if I help my friend move, it will be good for her but bad for me, how do I decide what action to take? This is where the major premise comes in. Norms, principles and imperatives are there to give us the criteria to judge what actions are right. Lewis refers to quite a number of different “imperatives” in his writings, but unfortunately it is not always clear how each imperative fits into his overall ethical theory. In his earlier writings, he discusses the “rational imperatives” at length.14 Dennes (1968) has considered whether the rational imperative of consistency could play the role of this major premise in guiding our action, but finds it unsatisfactory and lacking in moral authority. This is unsurprising. Lewis refers to the requirements of cogency and consistency as imperatives for “self-directed and self-criticized mental processes” (1970 [1952]: 213). In other words, consistency primarily governs our decision-making process, it guides our judgment of what is “good” under the minor premise. But in order to answer which action we should choose based on the various “goods,” we need some other imperatives.
32In regards to the major premise, Lewis refers to the distinction between the hypothetical and categorical imperatives. Hypothetical imperatives are those such as “If I don’t want to burn my hand, I should not touch the stove” or “If I don’t want my friend to get mad, I should help her move.” These set out criteria that guide my actions, telling me what to do depending on what I want to achieve. But this is not enough. Ethical questions are difficult because we have to ask what it is that we should want to achieve – should I not want to burn my hand? Should I not want to anger my friend? We need to know what should be the ultimate end of actions in order to make the right choice. We need categorical imperatives to guide us towards the right ultimate end in action. As Lewis notes: “an ethics of merely hypothetical imperatives, without categorical imperatives, must be blind” (1969 [1949]: 139). He suggests two such categorical imperatives: (i) prudence and (ii) what he refers to as the “golden rule.”
33Prudence – Lewis defines the maxim of prudence as follows: “So act as to maximize your possible realizations of the good, as against the bad, in your life as a whole ” (1969 [1959]: 71-2). The key phrase here is “your life as a whole.” As noted previously, there are different kinds of goods which may conflict with one another. One kind of “good” is found in our immediate passing experience – eating a pizza, listening to music, enjoying cannabis. Lewis is not suggesting that such goodness is unreal. It is indeed something we can directly experience. The issue is its temporary nature and that it may not be conducive to an overall good life. I can have pizza, alcohol and cannabis all day every day. While it will give me lots of enjoyable momentary experiences, my life is not a simple aggregation of all the good and bad passing moments. We need to take into account the connection and relationship between all these temporary experiences (1970 [1950]: 179). And this is what the prudential imperative is about: forgo temporary and passing goodness for the overall goodness in life as a whole. Of course, this involves empirical judgments and predictions, which are prone to error. Some may think financial security will bring long-term happiness but find out after retirement that they were mistaken; some may wrongly judge that smoking and drinking won’t affect their long-term health. It is therefore our obligation to properly consider and weigh all relevant evidence, and apply it to the principle of prudence: give priority to your future self-interest in building a good life as a whole over immediate temporary self-interest.
34But why should we act prudently? Why should we pursue a good life as a whole rather than momentary satisfaction? Lewis’s answer again lies in his pragmatic contradiction argument. He used the Cyrenaics as an example (1969 [1958]: 198-9; 1969 [1959]: 72-3). The Cyrenaics are hedonists who reject any principles of prudence. Their motto is “Catch pleasure as it flies, have no thought for the morrow.” But Lewis sees a contradiction in this. The Cyrenaics are in effect, recommending to us a particular principle to adopt in life, recommending to us that in face of any decision, just focus on the present and forget about the future. But to adopt such a principle is to think about the future, it is to decide in advance what upcoming actions I should take. Is it pointless to plan for the future? If it is pointless, the Cyrenaics’s motto has no significance at all, it is just something to amuse us in the present moment; if it is not pointless to plan for the future, then it is the complete opposite of what the Cyrenaics suggest. We cannot make a decision to disregard decisions. The pragmatic contradiction is clear. And for Lewis, the imperative of prudence is therefore a priori, he says “one who is capable of deliberate action cannot, in the nature of the case, repudiate concern for the future” (1969 [1959]: 72-3). Prudence is therefore the constitutive a priori imperative of deliberation, action, and self-governance.
35The Golden Rule – We finally arrive at Lewis’s most critical component in his ethical theory and his answer to the Moral Imperative Skeptic. Lewis shows us that there is at least one objective imperative that dictates our actions towards other agents. Unlike the argument for prudence, the golden rule is not directly supported by the pragmatic contradiction argument, but it does rely on some of the a priori principles established thus far as its essential ingredients. Recall the a priori principle that there exist objective imperatives (in Lewis’s response to the Extreme Skeptic) and Lewis’s argument that what actions are good is an empirical fact: these will lead us to one ultimate universal all-comprehensive moral maxim that Lewis sometimes refers to as the “golden rule.” It states: “Do unto others as you would that others should do unto you” (1969 [1959]: 75). Lewis elaborates further:
[…] remember that nothing can be a way of acting it is justified for you to adopt unless it is equally a justified way of acting for any other person to adopt, fronting this problem which you face and in the same premises of action. A valid rule is a valid rule, no matter who you are. (Ibid.)
36Lewis acknowledges that the basic intention of his golden rule echoes that of Kant’s categorical imperative. The common intent here is that of impersonality: the interests of all agents affected by an action should be given equal consideration; and we should only act according to rules that we think everyone else should also conform to. Despite the obvious Kantian influence here, how Lewis justifies this rule is very different from Kant.
37Kant sees the justification of the categorical imperative lies purely and completely in the a priori (in the traditional, non-pragmatic sense). One of Kant’s formulas for the categorical imperative is that “I should never act except in such a way that I can also will that my maxim should become a universal law” (Kant 2011 [1785]: 952). To adopt his famous example of making promises, Kant argues that we cannot make false promises because we cannot possibly will making false promises to become a universal law. The reason is not because of what consequences it may bring about in practice, rather it is because willing false promises as a universal maxim contradicts the concept of “promising” and as such, the maxim would destroy itself. The justification thus lies in pure reason; and its a priori nature means that Kant’s categorical imperative is a necessary truth that is completely independent of all experience (ibid.: 955), at least according to his transcendental approach and his understanding of the nature of the a priori.
38By contrast, Lewis wants to “avoid the transcendental dictum of a moral obligation which is independent of the humanly desirable” (1946: viii). Recall how Lewis has a different understanding of the a priori. His pragmatic approach means that in establishing the categorical imperative, we cannot find justification in pure reason. Instead, pace Kant, we must look at empirical facts, at human actions and experiences. Lewis has shown us what counts as “good” is an objective empirical matter. And because what is right cannot be determined without reference to what is good, the same empirical objectivity applies. What is the right action in a given circumstance must therefore be answerable to objective facts, to empirical experiences. By its very nature, “objectivity” means “it is as it is regardless of what anybody thinks about it” (1969 [1959]: 34). Herein lies the justification for the golden rule. Objectivity means that if an action is the right action for you, it will equally be the right action for anyone else in the same circumstance, or in Lewis’s words: “in the same premises of action” (1969 [1958]: 200). Recall how Lewis argues that value-statements are like any empirical statements. If I think that “2+2=4” is an objectively true statement, I do not think that it is only true for me; I must agree it is true for everyone. Similarly, if I think that helping my friend move is the right action, I must agree that it is the right action for everyone everywhere who is in the same circumstance. I cannot acknowledge that there are objectively valid rules for right action but then say that it only applies to you, not me.
39It is worth noting that the golden rule is also highly flexible and can allow many ethical theories under it. Take for example the prudential maxim – while it can be proved by the pragmatic contradiction, it can also be subsumed under the golden rule: If the egoist thinks that prudence is the only rule of conduct, she is not violating the golden rule as long as she agrees that such egoism should apply to everyone, universally. This is the same reason why Lewis claims that even the emotivist and egoist could “crawl under the Kantian tent” – as long as they are willing to take the consequences of what they recommend to others (1969 [1958]: 199; 1969 [1959]: 78). What the principle of objectivity dictates is simple: our actions and decisions must respect realities for what they are objectively applied to everyone, and not by reference to our subjective personal feelings (1970 [1954]: 222); and this applies across all domains – be it logic, maths, science or moral.
40Lewis has shown us that it is a pragmatic contradiction to deny that there are objective imperatives or to deny the objectivity in the judgment of the “good.” These pragmatically a priori objectivities are what make it possible for us to discuss, or even to just think about ethics. According to Lewis, the golden rule is the “first required presumption for there being any such thing as ethics at all” (2017c [unpub.]: 8). The golden rule is indispensable if we are to deliberate and decide on what “ought” we do in any situation involving others.
41Is Lewis’s pragmatic conception of the a priori a good enough answer to all of the moral skeptics? In his early works, Lewis explicitly noted that the a priori is alterable. In Mind and the World-Order (Lewis & Frye 1929), Lewis refers to our whole body of beliefs and concepts as a pyramid, with a priori concepts sitting at the top, affecting everything beneath it. He uses this to explain why we are often reluctant to adjust any of our a priori conceptions – because it will cause the most extended and far-reaching ripple effect across all our beliefs and knowledge. But does this mean that the a priori is freely alterable – as long as we are willing to accept the drastic change to all of our other beliefs? Is the moral skeptic free to reject the existence of objective imperatives, reject consistency and cogency, reject the objectivity of value, as long as she is willing to make the drastic adjustments throughout her pyramid? To think that the moral skeptic may have the last word here is to ignore how, according to Lewis, knowing and doing are “inextricably intertwined” (2017e [unpub.]: 76). I have tried to show in this paper how the concept of the a priori grounds Lewis’s ethical theory. But it is actually a two-way relationship. Ethics, the problem of what we should choose to do, is what gives meaning to epistemology. Lewis argues that our thoughts and beliefs in themselves make no difference in the world; “thinking” in itself has “no point” if it is never translated into action (2017c [unpub.]: 5). The function of knowledge, beliefs and a priori concepts is to improve our deliberation and to make predictions on what consequences my action may bring (2017e [unpub.]: 90). But there cannot be knowing without doing. While the imperatives derived from the pragmatic a priori make it possible for us to deliberate and act, it is the experiences we gather from our deliberate actions that verify, justify and give authority to the underlying a priori concepts. In this way, the relationship between ethics and epistemology are interdependent, mutually reinforcing each other in our process of deliberation, action and interaction with the world.
42This provides us with an answer to whether the moral skeptic can simply choose to reject the a priori. Lewis talks about how adjustments of the a priori might come about:
[…] such conceptions are still subject to alteration on pragmatic grounds when the expanding boundaries of experience reveal their infelicity as intellectual instruments. (1923: 177; my emphasis)
We must look to the success of our actions and our experience to determine whether we should accept or adjust certain a priori concepts: accept it if it helps achieve success and adjust it if it brings failure. In his latest draft manuscript, Lewis tries to explicate further the relationship between the a priori and experience. Although it remains the case that the a priori is not a law imposed upon nature and cannot guarantee success, there are suggestions that a negative relation holds: a breach of the a priori guarantees failure in experience. Lewis discusses this using the a priori principle of consistency:
Consistency alone will not guarantee the truth of belief; it is not a sufficient condition of truth, but it is a necessary condition because inconsistency is a guarantee of falsity […] Inconsistency of aims guarantees a failure to succeed. He who thinks or acts in contravention of consistency cannot, in the nature of the case, achieve what he intends. (2017e [unpub.]: 76; Lewis’s emphasis)
- 15 I thank Professor Cheryl Misak for suggesting this point.
43His conception of the a priori has a stronger connection to experience in here than in his work in the 1920s. He is suggesting that the a priori is more than a “stipulation of the mind” (1923: 169); instead, the a priori is what is necessary to guarantee success in action. This is a small but critical shift in Lewis’s position. According to his 1923 paper, Lewis tells us that “2 + 2 = 4” is not a guarantee of what must happen when I put two and two things together in the physical world. But, in the manuscript he was still working on at the time of his death in 1964, he seems to be suggesting that if I try to get five things by putting two and two together, I am bound to fail. Lewis adds: “[The a priori] formulates something to which, for safety and success, our intellectual procedures must conform” (2017e [unpub.]: 84-5; my emphasis). This means that the skeptic cannot simply choose to reject “2 + 2 = 4,” since this will lead to self-frustration in her actions. Similarly, the Cyrenaics cannot reject the prudential imperative, because they are bound to fail if they try to follow their decision of not following decisions. Lewis is suggesting that the relationship here is one of pragmatic necessity, rather than transcendental necessity.15 And this applies whether we are in the realm of epistemology or ethics. For Lewis, the logic of thinking and believing and the logic of deliberate doing are, to a certain extent, “formally identical” (2017e [unpub.]: 105); the verification and alteration in both cases depend ultimately on our deliberate actions, experiences, and empirical facts.
44Given how much Lewis relies on the pragmatic contradiction in developing his ethical theory, this subtle shift in the importance of the a priori found in his latest manuscript may be crucial. Unfortunately, we only have a draft of Lewis’s thought in this matter and will never have a full account of his revised pragmatic conception of the a priori. It is truly a pity we cannot see to fruition Lewis’s complete project on ethics.
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