http://newramblerreview.com/book-reviews...mon-ground
EXCERPT: Sam Harris sets out an ambitious project for himself ["The Moral Landscape: How Science Can Determine Human Values"].
Harris -- a neuroscientist and atheist who has argued militantly against religious belief -- hopes to meet head-on a common response to the atheist position, that, as Dostoyevsky famously put it, in the absence of God anything is permitted. The fear is that without religious belief to guide us, we are flung at once into the quicksand of moral relativism dispossessed of any firm footing upon which to claim that anything is truly right or wrong. [...] Harris wants once and for all to vanquish the challenge of moral (and cultural) relativism. Unfortunately (and I mean that sincerely), the assault of moral skepticism upon the notion of objective moral truth cannot be swatted away quite as easily as Harris implies.
[...] The problem with this is that, for all its intuitive appeal, utilitarianism offers no clear justification for its foundational claim: that everyone’s interests should count equally and that we cannot privilege some people’s interests—including our own—over the interests of others.
[...] The ugly foundational question at the heart of normative ethics remains: why not me over you? Why does your hunger count equally as my hunger? Why is your pain as terrible as mine? Utilitarianism fails to properly deal with this question—what we may call the problem of subjectivity. Utilitarianism’s strongest conceptual punch—that pleasure and pain is the basis of value (this hedonistic account of course may be substituted with more elastic concepts, such as preference satisfaction, well-being, or human flourishing)—does not support the proposition that everyone’s interests should count equally. It does not follow from this that we are morally obliged to maximize the well-being (or what have you) of the greatest number. That is a leap in logic. The philosopher Simon Blackburn does not mince his words: This "argument is so bad that the conclusion not only fails to follow, but actually seems to contradict the starting point.”
[...] Harris’s scientism does nothing to advance the discussion. Harris wants to use empirical facts to determine normative truths. However, the relativist challenge that Harris must defeat is (in its most popular form) the notion that moral judgements are only true or false from the standpoint of the individual or a group of individuals, and do not exist out there in the empirical universe the same way as salad bowls, tornados, and hardcover books. Moral value, the relativist argues, is not absolute: moral judgements are essentially no different than my view that pistachio ice cream is disgusting.
While my dislike of pistachio ice cream may be a perfectly measurable brain state, a natural phenomenon fully constrained by the laws of the universe, this still does not show that pistachio ice cream is objectively disgusting. And conversely, what fact in the universe could possibly show that I am mistaken? What could be the foundation of such a claim? All the empirical data in the world on pistachio ice cream—its flavours, precise texture, nut composition, etc.—can never prove that this green goo is objectively delicious.
Likewise, what are we to do if I am simply unmoved by the suffering of others? What empirical data can you produce to show that I must weigh the anguish of others equally with my own? There is of course an empirical answer to the question as to how to maximize the collective well-being of humanity—no one is disputing this. However, so long as the problem of subjectivity remains unsolved, there is no answer to the question of why we should do so. For Harris’s entire project to work, he must first solve the problem of subjectivity and show us why we are compelled to adopt the ‘point of view of the universe.’...
EXCERPT: Sam Harris sets out an ambitious project for himself ["The Moral Landscape: How Science Can Determine Human Values"].
Harris -- a neuroscientist and atheist who has argued militantly against religious belief -- hopes to meet head-on a common response to the atheist position, that, as Dostoyevsky famously put it, in the absence of God anything is permitted. The fear is that without religious belief to guide us, we are flung at once into the quicksand of moral relativism dispossessed of any firm footing upon which to claim that anything is truly right or wrong. [...] Harris wants once and for all to vanquish the challenge of moral (and cultural) relativism. Unfortunately (and I mean that sincerely), the assault of moral skepticism upon the notion of objective moral truth cannot be swatted away quite as easily as Harris implies.
[...] The problem with this is that, for all its intuitive appeal, utilitarianism offers no clear justification for its foundational claim: that everyone’s interests should count equally and that we cannot privilege some people’s interests—including our own—over the interests of others.
[...] The ugly foundational question at the heart of normative ethics remains: why not me over you? Why does your hunger count equally as my hunger? Why is your pain as terrible as mine? Utilitarianism fails to properly deal with this question—what we may call the problem of subjectivity. Utilitarianism’s strongest conceptual punch—that pleasure and pain is the basis of value (this hedonistic account of course may be substituted with more elastic concepts, such as preference satisfaction, well-being, or human flourishing)—does not support the proposition that everyone’s interests should count equally. It does not follow from this that we are morally obliged to maximize the well-being (or what have you) of the greatest number. That is a leap in logic. The philosopher Simon Blackburn does not mince his words: This "argument is so bad that the conclusion not only fails to follow, but actually seems to contradict the starting point.”
[...] Harris’s scientism does nothing to advance the discussion. Harris wants to use empirical facts to determine normative truths. However, the relativist challenge that Harris must defeat is (in its most popular form) the notion that moral judgements are only true or false from the standpoint of the individual or a group of individuals, and do not exist out there in the empirical universe the same way as salad bowls, tornados, and hardcover books. Moral value, the relativist argues, is not absolute: moral judgements are essentially no different than my view that pistachio ice cream is disgusting.
While my dislike of pistachio ice cream may be a perfectly measurable brain state, a natural phenomenon fully constrained by the laws of the universe, this still does not show that pistachio ice cream is objectively disgusting. And conversely, what fact in the universe could possibly show that I am mistaken? What could be the foundation of such a claim? All the empirical data in the world on pistachio ice cream—its flavours, precise texture, nut composition, etc.—can never prove that this green goo is objectively delicious.
Likewise, what are we to do if I am simply unmoved by the suffering of others? What empirical data can you produce to show that I must weigh the anguish of others equally with my own? There is of course an empirical answer to the question as to how to maximize the collective well-being of humanity—no one is disputing this. However, so long as the problem of subjectivity remains unsolved, there is no answer to the question of why we should do so. For Harris’s entire project to work, he must first solve the problem of subjectivity and show us why we are compelled to adopt the ‘point of view of the universe.’...