Dr. Seuss and Philosophy - Jacob M. Held [74]
Yet, the disadvantages of utilitarianism are significant and demand careful attention. Consider poor Thidwick. Before he is able to shed his horns and free himself from his oppressors, Thidwick is encumbered with five hundred pounds of pests on his head. All of his free riders are perfectly happy. So what if one moose is dissatisfied, the happiness of all the other creatures outweighs his discomfort. More people are happy exploiting Thidwick than are unhappy, so for a utilitarian the equation works out, the greatest happiness of the greatest number is produced through the apparent maltreatment of Thidwick. Even more problematic, this harsh treatment of Thidwick isn’t immoral since it produces the greatest good. Thidwick is merely one among many, the goal of which is maximal happiness. Thidwick is simply a cog in a happiness-producing machine, and so long as the output is the maximum possible happiness, it doesn’t matter if a cog gets worn out in the process. The problem is obvious. If the only goal of a group of people is to maximize happiness for the greatest number of participants, then it is quite likely that some are going to be sacrificed for the sake of the rest. The concern that utilitarians can find it justifiable to accept even seemingly horrific atrocities so long as the eventual output is positive is often expressed by the question, “Does the end always justify the means?” Shouldn’t there be a limit to what we are allowed to do to maximize happiness? Shouldn’t there be an upper bound limit to what we are willing to do, even if we have the satisfaction of the masses as our goal?
The usual criticism against utilitarianism is that basing the morality of an action or rule on the promotion of some consequence is going to permit the abuse of some part of the population at the expense of the majority who are benefitting. Consider that if Thidwick had not escaped his “guests” his life would have been plagued with a seemingly unending chain of exploitation. These moral hang-ups bring into question whether or not consequences are all that matter. Clearly, utilitarians are not oblivious to these difficulties, and a great deal of ink has been spilled dealing with them. But for us the important point is that if utilitarianism is found to be lacking, there is still another alternative. It may be that the consequences of our actions are only a part of the moral life, and pleasure alone cannot be the sole measure of them. Is the answer to go back to Kant and the absolutism of his duty-based theory? Well, there are other options. The good life may not be determined by either duty or pleasure.
Aristotle’s Great Balancing Act
The question central to Kant and Mill could be phrased as “What is the right thing to do?” Their moral philosophies depended on being able to differentiate between actions that are good and bad. Aristotle (384–322 BCE) thought differently. Focusing on actions was too narrow. Instead of worrying about what specific thing you ought to be doing, he believed we should be asking, “What kind of person should I be?” Aristotle thought that what really mattered was a person’s character. Therefore, Aristotle had to figure out and define what mattered in our moral composition.
Aristotle understood the behavior of animals and objects as fulfilling certain functions. A good hammer was one that did what a hammer was supposed to do, and did it well. Similarly, a good person was one that did what a person was supposed to do. And in order to be a good person, to do our job as people well, we needed certain dispositions or habits. Just as a hammer must have a long enough handle to generate sufficient momentum, a head denser than the material it hammers, and not be so hard as to be brittle in order to be an effective hammer, so must a person have states of character appropriate to fulfill the end of human life; namely, flourishing or living well. These states of character are the virtues.
A virtue, at its most basic, is any trait