Funny, I was thinking for the last few days or weeks of “Do the right thing!” as a sort of summary of deontology. It’s all very well if you know what the right thing is. Another classic expression is “Let justice be done though the heavens may fall” (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiat_justitia_ruat_caelum), apparently most famously said by the English Jurist Lord Mansfield when reversing the conviction of John Wilkes for libel while, it seems, riots and demonstrations were going on in the streets (my very brief research indicates he did not say it in the case that outlawed slavery in the British homeland long before even the British abolished elsewhere—though a book on that case is titled “Though the Heavens may fall”—the fact that he made that remark and that decision just made it too tempting to conflate them).
Some examples in the Bible pointedly illustrate “do the right thing” (in the sense of whatever God says is right—though in this case, “right” clearly isn’t in any conflict with “the Heavens”). I.e. Abraham: Sacrifice your son to me (ha ha just kidding/testing you), or Joshua “Run around the walls of Jericho blowing horns and the walls will fall down”. These are extreme cases of “Right is right, never mind how you’d imagine it would turn out—with hour tiny human mind).
Personally, since I am not an Objectivist, or a fundamentalist, or one who talks with God, I don’t fully trust any set of rules I may currently have as to what “is right”, though I trust them enough to get through most days. Nor am I a perfect consequentialist since I don’t perfectly trust my ability to predict outcomes.
An awful lot of examples given to justify consequentialism are extremely contrived, like “ticking bomb” scenarios to justify torture. Unfortunately many of us have seen these scenarios all too often in fiction (e.g. “24″), where they are quite common because they furnish such exciting plot points. Then they are on a battlefield in the real world which does not follow scriptwriter logic, and they imagine they are living such a heroic moment, which gets them to do something wrong and stupid.
In my opinion the best course is some of both. If I find myself, say, as a policeman, thinking that by shooting this guy though it really isn’t self-defence but I can sell it as such, I will rid the world of a bad actor who’d probably kill two people, then I suspect the best course is to fall back on the manual which says I’m not justified in shooting him in this situation. Similarly if I think by this or that unethical action I’ll increase the chance of the right person being elected to some important office On the other hand, if on some occasion I believe that by lying I will prevent some calamity then I might lie. There is no guarantee that we’ll get it right, and we’ll have to face the consequences if we’re wrong.
The worst thing, I think, is to think we’ve figured it all out and know exactly how to be get it right all the time.
Funny, I was thinking for the last few days or weeks of “Do the right thing!” as a sort of summary of deontology. It’s all very well if you know what the right thing is. Another classic expression is “Let justice be done though the heavens may fall” (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiat_justitia_ruat_caelum), apparently most famously said by the English Jurist Lord Mansfield when reversing the conviction of John Wilkes for libel while, it seems, riots and demonstrations were going on in the streets (my very brief research indicates he did not say it in the case that outlawed slavery in the British homeland long before even the British abolished elsewhere—though a book on that case is titled “Though the Heavens may fall”—the fact that he made that remark and that decision just made it too tempting to conflate them).
Some examples in the Bible pointedly illustrate “do the right thing” (in the sense of whatever God says is right—though in this case, “right” clearly isn’t in any conflict with “the Heavens”). I.e. Abraham: Sacrifice your son to me (ha ha just kidding/testing you), or Joshua “Run around the walls of Jericho blowing horns and the walls will fall down”. These are extreme cases of “Right is right, never mind how you’d imagine it would turn out—with hour tiny human mind).
Personally, since I am not an Objectivist, or a fundamentalist, or one who talks with God, I don’t fully trust any set of rules I may currently have as to what “is right”, though I trust them enough to get through most days. Nor am I a perfect consequentialist since I don’t perfectly trust my ability to predict outcomes.
An awful lot of examples given to justify consequentialism are extremely contrived, like “ticking bomb” scenarios to justify torture. Unfortunately many of us have seen these scenarios all too often in fiction (e.g. “24″), where they are quite common because they furnish such exciting plot points. Then they are on a battlefield in the real world which does not follow scriptwriter logic, and they imagine they are living such a heroic moment, which gets them to do something wrong and stupid.
In my opinion the best course is some of both. If I find myself, say, as a policeman, thinking that by shooting this guy though it really isn’t self-defence but I can sell it as such, I will rid the world of a bad actor who’d probably kill two people, then I suspect the best course is to fall back on the manual which says I’m not justified in shooting him in this situation. Similarly if I think by this or that unethical action I’ll increase the chance of the right person being elected to some important office On the other hand, if on some occasion I believe that by lying I will prevent some calamity then I might lie. There is no guarantee that we’ll get it right, and we’ll have to face the consequences if we’re wrong.
The worst thing, I think, is to think we’ve figured it all out and know exactly how to be get it right all the time.