Ethical Decision Making

Methods, Models, and Morals

One of the things I really enjoy about teaching eighth graders in a classical Christian school is that I end up, fairly frequently, having conversations with them about things which I knew nothing about, whatsoever, until at least college or maybe even graduate school. These are the kinds of things that happen when you are reading Great Books, they bring up important ideas for discussion, they produce burning curiosities which demand further inquiry in pursuit of answers.

Today our class discussion started with a plot to kidnap a princess. In the book we are currently reading, Winning His Spurs by G.A. Henty, some conspirators met secretly to discuss what to do about Princess Berengaria, whom King Richard has fallen in love with (despite being engaged to the French princess, sister to King Philip of France). They are in the early part of the journey towards Israel at the start of the Third Crusade and much depends on the cooperation of the French and English armies (which has never been the strong suit of those two countries).

The main character of the story, Cuthbert, was lost in the dark military camp during a rain storm when he comes up next to a tent and starts to enter to ask for directions, but then he overhears conspiratorial voices.

I tell you, said a voice, I would rather drive a dagger myself into her heart, than allow our own princess to be insulted by this hot-headed island dog.

It is sad indeed, said another, but in a calmer and smoother tone, that the success of a great expedition like this, which has for its object the recovery of the holy sepulchre from the infidels, should be wrecked by the headstrong fancies of one man. It is even, as is told by the old Grecian poet, as when Helen caused a great war between peoples of that nation.

I know nothing, another voice said, either of Helen or the Greeks, or of their poets. They are a shifty race, and I can believe aught that is bad of them. But touching this princess of Navarre, I agree with our friend, it would be a righteous deed to poniard her, and so to remove the cause of dispute between the two kings, and, indeed, the two nations. This insult laid upon our princess is more than we, as French knights and gentlemen, can brook; and if the king says the word, there is not a gentleman in the army but will be ready to turn his sword against the islanders.

Then the smooth voice spoke again. It would, my brethren, be wrong and useless to shed blood; but methinks, that if this apple of discord could be removed, a good work would be done; not, as our friend the count has suggested, by a stab of the dagger; that indeed would be worse than useless. But surely there are scores of religious houses, where this bird might be placed in a cage without a soul knowing where she was, and where she might pass her life in prayer that she may be pardoned for having caused grave hazards of the failure of an enterprise in which all the Christian world is concerned.¹

Regardless of what one thinks of the Crusades themselves (for the sake of argument let’s assume this was a necessary expedition on the part of the European forces) the question arises, “Are the French conspirators justified in kidnapping the princess (or worse) in order to prevent the failure of the expedition?” This question, if we are to reduce it to its schema, so to speak, simply asks “Do the ends justify the means?”

As a result of this more universal question, which arose from the particular, our conversation went further afield to other matters or example throughout history wherein difficult ethical decisions were decided on the bases of “the ends justify the means.” A prominent example would be the dropping of nuclear bombs on Japan.

We had a great discussion. In the midst of it I had the opportunity to outline a few of the major models for ethical decision making and I thought I might repeat them here so you, too, could join the conversation.

This method of ethical decision making is the one which we have already begun discussing above. It attempts to make decisions in light of the outcome of a particular action or course of actions. This philosophy was strongly represented by the philosophers Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill. One of the guiding questions that is usually discussed among utilitarian ethicists is, “What will bring about the most good, for the most people?” or, sometimes, “What will bring about the maximum happiness for most people?”

It is nearly universally acknowledged among philosophers, from the ancient world to this very day, that everything we do as individuals is directed at achieving our own happiness. I personally would argue this is undeniably true. The real problem is, of course, most people don’t know what real happiness is or how to acquire it, but I digress.

So stated, Utilitarianism is often lauded as the most fair way to make ethical decisions. It just sounds nice and considerate. The most good (or happiness) for the most people. This, of course, means that no individual will have perfect good or happiness, because the needs and desires of the individual must be balanced against the needs and desires of the community. The goal is to spread goodness and happiness out as equally as possible, and to do so this means that you or I or “they” may have to let go of certain goods or even the most supreme happiness, so that more people can have as much good or happiness as possible. But that’s just being fair, right? It’s not hard to see the relationship which Marxist philosophy has with this kind of thinking. Redistribution of wealth, goods, happiness, so that everybody is equally happy and well off (in theory).

Capitalism, in which a person works for their own success and happiness and good is counter to the Utilitarian agenda and therefore bad. One must work for the common good in all things, even if that means personal suffering for the greater good.

Of course it has been noticed by some, in the history of those trying to work out a communistic utilitarianism, that it is often the case that some are asked to sacrifice while others gain the advantage. In other words, that the greatest good may come for the most people, some of you may have to die to serve that goal. Rest assured, in your grave, it is for the greater good comrade.

Okay, okay, to be fair, not everyone who represents the utilitarian approach to ethics would necessarily be ready to join the marxist revolution, but the relationship between this theory and that social paradigm is hard to ignore. Even so, the theory struggles on another account which is perhaps just as significant.

Utilitarianism tries to determine what moral actions are good and bad based upon their consequences. In other words, to really know a moral action’s value, one must wait and see what results. It reads morality backwards upon actions after their results are known. So, then, for the person trying to make an ethical decision right now the best they can do is guess, maybe with the aid of reason and experience, but guess all the same, what will happen as a result of his decision.

This alone should be enough to tell the ethical decision maker that utilitarianism is, at best, incomplete when it comes to being a theory for how to make ethical decisions. It is better, it would seem, as a model for judging the morality of past actions than it is for making present decisions.

Now, I have said a lot of negative things about utilitarianism, but I want to say a thing or two in its favor as well. For one, I think utilitarianism is right to desire the most good (or happiness) for the most people. That is an honorable goal. We ought to desire the good and happiness of others. We are, after all, commanded by Christ to “love your neighbor as yourself.”

Further, it is appropriate and only natural to ask ourselves, prior to any ethical decision, how will my decision affect other people? A failure to ask ourselves those questions has led to many rash and reckless decisions with disastrous consequences which could have been avoided if only one exercised more prudential judgment in advance. Clearly David should have spent more time reflecting on the probable outcome of his actions with Bathsheba before he foolishly committed adultery, because this led to the death of a good man, Uriah, and the death of his own child, and arguably a loss of respect among his own people which weakened the kingdom.

In these respects, caring for others as ourselves and being thoughtful about the good or harm that may come from our actions, utilitarianism is good, because it is fairly selfless in its considerations. The self is only considered as a part of the whole. I only benefit insofar as my brother or neighbor does. There is a lot about these considerations to commend.

Nevertheless utilitarianism is insufficient, on its own, to answer questions like “what is good for everyone” or “what does real happiness look like?” Since goodness and happiness are the targets of utilitarianism it seems pretty important to have a clear answer to these questions. Clearly utilitarians need the aid of other parts of philosophy and/or religion in order to have a set idea at which to aim. Terms like “The good” and “Happiness” are mere tokens without meaning unless they are clearly defined and placed upon sufficient grounding.

Further, utilitarianism, although seeking the most good or happiness for the most people, tends to pursue this by reducing people to mere numbers in an equation. Utilitarian ethics, all on its own, lends itself toward making cold and calculated decisions about what is best for most and what serves the greater good, even if this means treating some particular person, or group of people, ruthlessly and without concern.

One might remember Weston, in C. S. Lewis’ books Out of the Silent Planet and Perelandra, who was so obsessed with preservation of the human race as whole that he had no particular love or concern for any individual human person. It was always about the most good for the most people, the perpetual survival of our species, and anyone who gets in the way of that is necessarily expendable.

A strictly utilitarian approach to ethical decision making has the tendency to be able to justify any particular evil in the present in support of some supposed (theoretical) greater good in the future for the most.

The method of ethical decision making known as deontology is, really, a family of different kinds of methods. What they have in common, however, is subscription to some sort of standard, rule, or canon by which a person can know what they ought to do in a given situation. In other words, deontologists argue that the way to make ethical decisions is to appeal to an absolute and unchanging standard which tells you what you ought to do in a given situation.

Examples of deontology include “divine command theory,” Kant’s “Categorical Imperative” or even “constitutionalism,” among other things.

Divine command theory is the view that says whatever God commands us to do is good and whatever God commands us not to do is bad. Obviously, depending on what conception of God one has, or what religion they are a part of, this may appeal variously to the Bible, the Qur’an, or Natural Law, etc.

The famous philosopher Immanuel Kant posited a theory about moral duties which has come to be known as the “Categorical Imperative.” In a nutshell, Kant argues that one should only do, or refrain from doing, that which he could universally will every other person to do or not do in the exact same situation. In other words, there is no special consideration for me or for you, whatever is right or wrong to do in a given situation is right or wrong for everyone to do in that situation. Kant held human reason to be the supreme guide in determining such things.²

When I refer to constitutionalism I am pulling a term out of the air a bit. What I mean by this is simply that one could, as a deontologist, appeal to something like the United States Constitution or other founding documents as their infallible rule for determining moral decision making. One could likewise do this with other such documents from other nations of even organizations. Someone might make the company policies of Verizon their standard (I suppose).

The point is that deontology appeals to an external standard and makes that standard the measure of all things. Obviously a great deal depends upon which standard is chosen. We ought to demand that people justify why they have chosen their particular standard and why we should not say, as C. S. Lewis once put it, “to hell with your standard!”³ If, however, one were able to give sufficient justification for why the standard they are appealing to (be it the Bible or human reason, etc.) should be affirmed by all people as the authoritative standard then we would indeed be well on our way to having the ability to make ethical decisions and knowing what we ought to do.

Ayn Rand (her name tastes like vomit in my mind) is famous for promoting the theory of ethical egoism. In short, this posits that everyone should do what is most advantageous for themselves. In theory, if everyone does this and takes it seriously, this would help society to function well. At first blush it may sound like the chaos of the book Judges where “everyone did what was right in his own eyes,” but in actuality…no, that’s right, that’s exactly what this is. It’s a terrible theory of ethics.

To do as much justice as I can to it, the idea is that if one looks out for themselves sincerely this will limit one from doing really bad things. Looking out for number one means not doing things which will cause me to go to prison, get me fired, raise the ire of my parents, or make me a social pariah. The fact that I am looking for my own greatest good and happiness (contra utilitarianism where I look for everyone else’s good and mine as only part of the whole) will necessarily restrain me at times from doing what I want to do because (in agreement with utilitarianism) I am worried about the results for me personally.

While it is appropriate in ethical decision making to ask, “how will this decision affect me?” It is reprehensible to think that this should be the primary guiding factor. It is clearly a rejection of the idea of any real good beyond personal preservation and will certainly not motivate me towards doing good to my neighbor (unless one can perceive how one would personally benefit from it).

Ethical egoism, in theory, might have stopped David from having an affair with Bathsheba if he had foreseen the negative effects it would have on him personally, but it would have in no way told him “adultery is wrong.” If it would have served his overall purposes while having no ill effects of his prosperity, he would have been perfectly justified in committing adultery under this theory. With utilitarian ethics there is, at base, at least pretense about serving the good of others, but ethical egoism doesn’t even try to do that.

Of the various models of ethical decision making discussed in this brief post, virtue ethics stands apart in a significant way. The most significant difference is that it really isn’t a model for ethical decision making at all. Virtue ethics asks a fundamentally different question. Rather than pondering what one should decide to do concerning a particular ethical consideration, virtue ethics focuses on becoming a good person who is likely to do the right thing when the moment of decision comes.

In other words, this approach to ethics focuses on developing the character of a moral agent who has to make ethical decisions. This is pursued by recognizing the particular qualities and habits which tend to promote happiness and human flourishing, namely the cardinal virtues, and putting them into practice each day, prior to the moment of critical decision. The virtue ethicist reasons that the one who is temperate in his daily life, who is courageous when there is need for courage, who is prudent and reflective before action, and who is just to his neighbor even in the little things of life, is most like to do what is right when a difficult ethical quandary arises.

It is not likely that the man who has never denied himself a piece of pie, or some other small thing he has desired, will deny himself the opportunity to engage his sexual appetite when it would be imprudent to do so. It’s not likely that the person who has always cheated at monopoly and schoolyard games will suddenly give his neighbor that $20 they saw fall out of their bag. But the person who denies himself, at least as often as might be appropriate, and who always tries to be just and honest in small things, is far more likely to handle a much larger problem well when it comes to him.

Virtue ethics tells us that it doesn’t matter if you know what you ought or ought not to do in the moment of action, if you have not the moral fortitude to do it or not do it through the practice of virtue. No one who wants to run a marathon can do so without having first trained in many smaller runs. To try to run a marathon without prior training and discipline could be quite disastrous, but will definitely be unsuccessful.

Evaluation

I hope something occurred to you as I ran roughshod through the field of ethics (firing arrows wildly into the sunset like Merida with the wind in my hair). Namely, I hope you saw that all of these models have something to offer us in the process of ethical decision making (even egoism, sort of). The real disaster comes from thinking any one model is the complete picture.

Utilitarianism, on its own, is exceedingly dangerous and great deeds of wickedness have been performed while chasing the elusive “greater good.” However, we ought to think about the consequences of our actions upon others and that should have some weight when we are trying to decide what to do.

Deontology, if we land on the right objective standard, is hugely helpful. If I can know for sure what God’s will is then that really trumps every other consideration. But, even assuming I have the right standard, is God’s will spelled out clearly as to how I should act in every instance? Does God speak to us by nature and by his word and by human reason? How do I demonstrate that the Bible (and not the Qur’an or Hindu Vedas or the Constitution) is what I should make my absolute standard? I think there are good answers to some of these questions, but the answer is rarely as simple as we’d like it to be.

Ethical egoism is kind of the worst, but I should consider whether my actions will have a deleterious effect on my own life. That’s a reasonable question to ask and it ought to carry some weight.

Virtue Ethics is pretty great, but I may still need some guidance as to how to act even if I am a good person who is ready and willing to do what is right.

It seems that the best solution to ethical decision making is to take into consideration the best of all of these things together. As Christian, who has sufficient warrant for believing in God and the Bible as his uniquely inspired word, and who believes that God gave us reason and that he revealed himself in the things he has made, I have a lot of quality resources at my disposal to make good ethical decisions. I must not make them lightly. I must work to do what is right according to God’s word and will, I must care for my neighbor as myself, I must develop my character to be a good person who is both willing and able to do what is right.

In the end, the good is God himself. God wills and commands according to his own good nature and we are all obligated to keep his commandments. Happiness comes by knowing God, contemplating his word, and acting in accordance with virtue. I am a deontologist who argues the Bible is the ultimate standard, but I also recognize the application of God’s commandments requires prudence and consideration and tailoring universal principles to particular situations. As such I am guided by his word, but also reason and virtue.

As may be obvious, this is really just an impromptu post on ethics. It’s not a thorough treatment of any of the models of ethics mentioned here and you should look into all of them more and come to a more fully informed opinion (except maybe Ayn Rand…yuck). I am just riffing off of the discussion I had earlier today with. my students and pulling from my memory banks some things which I haven’t personally read or written on for some time (except virtue…I read and write on that a lot). I hope, however, it is at least good enough to raise your curiosity and make you ponder the question, “How do I know what is the right thing to do?”

1. G. A. Henty, Winning His Spurs, p. 47.

2. Understand I am running roughshod over Kant and other ideas in this post for the sake of brevity, forgive any oversimplifications. Let this be someone’s starting point for thinking about these matters and not the terminus.

3. c.f. Mere Christianity, by C. S. Lewis, ch. 1. This book is very relevant to our current discussion. I heartily commend it to you.