Books & Reviews
Empirical Realism: Meaning and the Generative Foundation of Morality (2003)
Conference Review and Discussion of Empirical Realism
“Really Realism: My Response to a “Confession”
This is an abbreviated response to Professor Phillip Fandozzi’s Hawaiian conference paper: “Confessions of a Nihilist.”
I want to thank my good friend Phil Fandozzi for his most kind and generous comments, and for his extremely provocative essay challenging my robust version of moral realism. I also wish to convey to all how much I appreciate the opportunity to respond to his critique in this way.
I
Let us designate Fandozzi’s counter-thesis as the Sensibility Thesis. Accordingly, both reality and the experiencing subject make decisive contributions to the moral facts—to our obligations. The issue is never actually that of whether various experiences make us more sensitive to moral facts. Of course they do, and ER goes to some length to illustrate this. But most importantly ER attempts to show how these independently real moral facts break through icy indifference, intolerance, and the effects of enculturation so as to claim our attention and allegiance when we are least prepared for it. Hence, I will not be interpreting Fandozzi’s thesis in any epistemological way. The challenges posed by cultural and biological factors—unless linked to the metaphysical issue—are philosophically uninteresting. So, I take it that his thesis is the more radical metaphysical one. And the metaphysical reading of Fandozzi’s Sensibility Thesis is that moral facts do not enjoy a reality independently of the moral subject; but instead that the sensibility of the moral subject makes a substantive contribution to what the moral facts actually are.
My response to his counter-thesis is then that it is false; and, it is a thesis which does not survive the critique already presented in ER. I’ll now briefly try to defend this bald claim.
1. First, the Sensibility Thesis must contend with The Exclusive Disjunction Thesis. Here, I argue (C-10) that—regardless of what exactly moral-facts turn out to be—either there are mind-independent facts of obligation or there are not. If there are such facts, it is these and only these which obligate us. If there are not such facts, then there are no obligations at all. If all “moral facts” are epistemic—depending only upon an agreement to apply the terms ‘morally right/wrong’ under certain designated criteria—then there are no real facts of moral obligation. Absent the independent moral facts, any set of criteria can be invoked; whence morality is whatever we make it; it is sheer caprice.
2. Second, there is exactly one feature which is necessary and sufficient to insure the existence of moral facts—of obligation. This feature is value—a value that is intrinsic to the world and the “things” thereof. This value just is the worthiness of a thing, a worthiness which is inherent to it. On my argument, it is this dignity—this worthiness—which generates facts of obligation. Something which is, in itself, valuable on its own terms, is worthy of being respected. That is, it is owed this respect; and so it deserves to be treated accordingly. But to deserve to be treated with concern and respect is to obligate all moral agents to behave in just this way. Obligation is the respect that we owe to that which is deserving of it. Descriptions of such obligations—of a respect which is owed—are descriptions of something which factually obtains. Here, these facts are moral facts.
Nothing else—nothing other than intrinsic value (also referred to as “dignity” or “greatness”)—does generate moral facts; and nothing else can. (C-10)
Therefore, either the world is valuable on its own terms and the Sensibility Thesis is false; or the world is nihilistic and there is no intrinsic value to discover. Then since we certainly do not create such intrinsic value through our attitudes or any other means, the Sensibility Thesis is again false.
II
Thus, since he nowhere contests the thesis that value and only value gives rise to moral facts, Fandozzi should be looking for a means to underwrite the very moral realism which he seeks to impugn.
ER clearly lays out exactly how this is to be done. For at bottom, the affective discovery of value arrives as the apprehension of the worthiness of something. The presence of value is conveyed as the felt acknowledgement of this worthiness. We are impressed—with Rocky, with our spouse, with the gnarly, harsh beauty of the desert. Affective cognition is an appreciation of something which can now be seen to merit that appreciation. This appreciation is respect; and respect is our appropriate response to value. So understood, affective sensibility is a capacity—one which constitutes our openness to value.
So, what then is to finally be said about the “confession” of my nihilist friend? Affectation neither confers nor constitutes value. Far rather, affectation is our access to value. Indeed, any vindication of realism depends upon having such access—the ability to be open for the greatness of the world. And in the end, this is precisely what Fandozzi affirms. His own formulation of this insight is crisp and telling: Through our experience of the world, “[We] learn to love, admire, [and] reveal the dignity and wonder of the world through our ability to open ourselves to it,” . . . and . . . [W]e allow the world to lead us to a full appreciation of its greatness.” (Italics mine).
Well said. But this is now, rather unabashedly, really realism. Isn’t it?
David K. Clark, University of Montana
(Note: In subsequent discussion, my friend’s position has shifted as he slides into skepticism about intrinsic greatness/value—as if our apprehensions of such “. . . might be an illusion .“ But I fear this unexpected turn is rooted in a familiar confusion. That our apprehensions of value are “possibly” mistaken, is always true. And it is also always trivial (we are also “possibly” brains in vat.) That such philosophical skepticism must be abandoned is the deep lesson of modern philosophy.
But Fandozzi’s testimony regarding intrinsic value is both eloquent and fervent. Thus, if such apprehensions cannot themselves be systematically discredited (e.g., as the belief in metaphysical freedom—see article below), then authenticity demands that that we make the effort to be informed by them. Doing so, as Fandozzi himself affirms, will “lead us” to a fuller appreciation of the moral guidance mandated by the actual greatness, dignity and wonder of the world. Such is the challenge accepted in ER.)
Any response to the above is welcomed and can be incorporated within the body of the text.
Mile High Redemption: Evangelical Christianity and a Child’s Quest for Truth (2012)
Atheism, Morality and the Kingdom of God: a Philosophical & Literary Investigation (2019)
Author’s Description:
This treatise explores both the beguiling fancy that without God, moral virtue is not possible, and the dream that human fulfillment awaits the faithful in an afterlife Kingdom. Crucially, it provides a demonstration showing that once stripped of their deceptive theological overlay, Jesus’ Parables of the Kingdom of God reveal an account of real-time flourishing that is secular, constituted by virtue, and conceptually incompatible with the “life of faith” (total dedication to a deity).
Part I establishes that morality and human virtue are indeed fully independent of God’s very existence. Parts II and III isolate the prized hermeneutical principle whereby the authentic words of Jesus are set in relief. What emerges is Jesus own urgent testimony of a this-world kingdom which constitutes the highest good for humans: the summum bonum. This challenging vision, anchored in the very tradition of which Jesus was both participant and critic, offers a road-map of how human fulfillment is to be realized here and now!—if at all.
Author’s Preface to Atheism, Morality and the Kingdom of God:
The text is an unflinching inquiry which takes up an enduring project of love and passion integral to the very meaning of the philosophical life. The discipline once famously pronounced by Kant as the Queen of the sciences, was by the mid-twentieth century relegated by Quine to mere clean-up—the janitorial tasks of science. The power of philosophy to inform and provide guidance to humanity was nowhere to be found.
But of course the perennial questions central to philosophy remain, and they loom with increased urgency. We not only lack improved insight about such questions, we have yet to fully appreciate that these questions are not scientific questions at all. Science cannot inform us about how we ought to live, or what constitutes the highest good—the summum bonum—of human existence, or how such is to be achieved. It cannot characterize the intersection, if any, of God and morality; or that of the role of faith, if any, in the good-life. Such questions are routinely relegated to unquestioned conventional norms, religious factions, or they are simply dismissed.
But such gritty themes, while not scientific, do lie at the heart of the philosophical enterprise. The defining commitment of this text is not only to insist that there are answers to these haunting philosophical issues, it is to illuminate these answers in a manner which reintroduces the impact of philosophical investigation into our lives. Philosophy, at its best, is not only both relevant and profound, it is necessary.
Its signature issues demand, and are worthy of, our best attentive efforts. Accordingly, they will find no purchase upon the idle or numbed mind. And philosophy itself cannot escape sharp indictment here. Highly specialized jargon and research protocols have insolated the professional philosophical endeavor from the very masses who are to be served by these efforts. Substantive philosophical discussion is at best stale, and has been supplanted by isolated, technical endeavors, comprehensible only to elite technicians. This text is offered as an effort to again remind us that pressing philosophical issues have long since insinuated themselves into vital human concerns. Absent the attempt to integrate philosophical and public discourse, philosophy is merely a pointless exercise in professional vanity.
The investigation initiated by this book (AMK) begins by formulating a compelling argument about the very nature of human virtue and its relevance to the life of genuine faith—not faith as mere belief, or a vague hope of going to a better place after we are dead—but as full dedication to a deity. The reader will be able to appreciate the stunning result: the life of virtue and the life of faith are radically, conceptually, incompatible. We are then poised to discover for ourselves that the world is morally charged. With or without God, guidance about how to live rightly and well is embedded within the very fabric of the universe. So, both the nihilist—who believes that without God, morality is at best a human contrivance; and the person of faith—who believes that all morality either originates or is grounded in God, are profoundly misguided.
And now we are poised for the question: is the summum bonum—the highest good for humans—available only as an afterlife reward for the faithful, or is it instead a real-time domain which emerges solely as a committed and distinctive way of dwelling here and now.
Parts II and III provide an answer to this final question through a unique literary analysis of the biblical text itself. It is profoundly ironic that such careful examination is itself sufficient to decisively undercut the theology which has held the text hostage for two millennia. This scrutiny yields a long-sought prize: the principle of selection by which to discern the chaff from the wheat—the authentic words of Jesus himself. We will find that the genuine parables of Jesus—when tied to their inspirational and richly storied tradition—will present us with a vision of a kingdom of human flourishing which is inspiring and compelling, even if vulnerable. Its urgent message is that this domain—though worthy of a deity—must be achieved here and now or not at all. The best we can be is radically up to us; not even a God can save us. And it is the traditional stories together with the parables delivered from the mouth of Jesus himself, which show us the way.
Finally, I should here offer a comment to those who may harbor a deep suspicion about taking the step into literary analysis as an invaluable guide through the deep and often murky problems of human existence. My philosophical presupposition is as follows.
Philosophical Rationalism (the notion that we can have a priori knowledge about the world, i.e., constitutive knowledge of reality independently of our experience of it) has run its course. Not because philosophers are tired of it (although they are worn from tinkering about with all the implications for Philosophical Idealism and Relativism), but because it has been exposed. There is no a priori knowledge about the world, and thus no a priori knowledge about what the highlights of the good life for humans consists in. Therefore, we must learn from our own experience. And there is little which serves to illuminate the salient features thereof—thereby rendering these available for philosophical inspection—like great literature. See if you don’t agree.
David K. Clark
Introduction to Atheism, Morality, and the Kingdom of God
How did Jesus become Christ? How did a Jewish rabbi become both human and divine, breaking a basic concept of Judaism? What historical forces and tendencies contributed to this deification?
Often the New Testament is described in an historical vacuum, as if Jesus was a unique and singular personality, offering a completely new conception of religion. Rather, this time was a great transitional period in the ancient world. Living in the midst of Hellenistic culture where so many varied influences thrived and competed with older traditions, Jesus and later the gospel writers were immersed in a rich and vibrant milieu of exciting ideas and aspirations. Rome had replaced the Greek empire, but had adopted in large part their Hellenistic culture, bringing with it mystery religions and cults, secret rites and rituals, paths to salvation and immortality, often based on a savior or messiah. Some espoused a virgin birth, others claiming miracles, resurrection from death and ascension into heaven. One striking example is found in the religion of the Great Mother where the man-god Attis is slain and hanged in a tree, later buried in a tomb which is found empty, having risen in three days.
Another significant aspect of this period was the Diaspora effect. Under Rome many peoples were displaced from their homeland, losing their connection to the old culture and even their native language. Cosmopolitanism replaced the old regionalism of ‘land and blood’. Further, under Roman oppression, these peoples sought ways of escaping this world’s misery by finding hope in otherworldly salvation, induced by epiphanies, secret rites and a savior. Rather than receiving a ‘birthright’ from their nation, they sought a more individualistic ‘conversion’ experience, one based on dogma, a set of beliefs, and faith in a savior. Religion offered them an escape from this oppressive world to a kingdom of freedom and supreme happiness.
Over the centuries, these influences on Christianity have been debated without a final resolution, separating the people of faith from secularists who emphasize Jesus’ earthly morality.
In his book, David Clark has chosen to focus directly on the Hebraic/Christian writings to find the essence of Jesus’ morality, demonstrating how they are best understood independently of theological and supernatural assumptions. In doing so, he shows how this message is not weakened or less revolutionary, but rather achieves preeminence as it stands out in all of its power and significance. Rather than simply rejecting theism—in fact, a theistic view that Jesus most definitely espoused as a Jew—Clark brackets it and concentrates on those stories and parables that are cogent and consistent—a unifying comprehensive account of an inspiring morality that opens up Jesus’ account of the good-life as accessible only here and now.
Philosophy can often be abstract and intimidating to the general public, off-putting and seemingly esoteric. This style of philosophy became prominent in recent times, developing a largely analytic approach that was divorced from everyday life and understanding. In the latter half of the twentieth century, Existentialism challenged this mode of philosophy by exploring literary and artistic sources to make philosophy more accessible and engaging. In his work, Clark has been able to combine a careful, analytic approach with a keen sensitivity to the existential layers of meaning within the biblical text. In a word, he has uncovered their living core. He invites readers to think and feel their way into the narrative, allowing them to search their own experiences; perhaps questioning their own assumptions and biases. He presents them not only with a vibrant interpretation of the Bible, but with a challenge to live life to the fullest on this earth.
Over the years I have had many lively conversations with David concerning these matters and perhaps played a small part in the development of his ideas. I have always been impressed by his determination and ability to combine philosophical acuity with a humanistic sensitivity. This book is a culmination of his lifelong effort to clarify and demonstrate a way of life that is both fulfilling and ennobling. It brings together many threads of his work over the years.
He writes from a wealth of experience in both the academic and practical world. This of course includes a PhD in philosophy, years of teaching both philosophy and humanities courses, published books and articles, including a memoir of his early life. This comes amidst managing a concrete construction business, and serving as a Justice of the Peace. He is also a forest steward versed in home repair and landscaping, and leads a vibrant musical life—singing in choirs, playing piano and guitar and an outdoor enthusiast. Given this background, he always wants to make his works open to the public, accessible and invigorating. This can be seen in his writing style and in the way he has lived. From his Empirical Realism: Meaning and the Generative Foundation of Morality that defended a muscular realism and laid the grounding for his moral philosophy, to his memoir Mile High Redemption: Evangelical Christianity and a Child’s Quest for Truth, that explored its implications in his early years, David Clark exemplifies the genuine philosophical life.
Philip Fandozzi is a 23 year past director of the Liberal Studies and Humanities Program; Professor Emeritus of the University of Montana.