In my last blog, I made the assertion that our society has at present no moral knowledge. In this and in the next few blogs I wish to probe this undoubtedly disturbing, even unbelievable, thesis further. I will introduce a simple but apt and intuitive notion of knowledge (to be developed further later on) and apply this notion to our purported ethical knowledge to demonstrate that we indeed lack such knowledge. Next I will present the findings of two independent studies that led their finders to the outrageous but valid and well supported conclusion that we lack ethical or moral knowledge. From there, I will go on to discuss why this particular lack of knowledge is a serious problem worthy of out attention. Finally, I will discuss the practical application of philosophy to this problem, and argue that it is the most useful tool available to us to address this problem.

Knowledge: Fundamentals and Issues.

The question "What is knowledge?" covers a third of the field of Philosophy and is referred to by philosophers by the term "epistemology" (the study of knowledge). (The other two traditional fields of philosophy are "metaphysics" (the study of what "things" there are), and "ethics" (the study of -- well -- that is the subject of my project; let us say for the moment that it is the study of systems of voluntary human conduct, with the caveat that our discoveries along the way will reveal more of the nature of the subject, and expand and sharpen, and perhaps lead us to revise our perspective of just what it is we are looking at.).

Now as Philosophy itself covers "everything" (at the least, everything that can be comprehended by human intellect), the "What is knowledge?" naturally promises to be a large and sweeping -- and unwieldy and controversial -- one. Fortunately, unlike many areas of science, and metascience (i.e., philosophy), we all have some personal experience and gut intuitions about Knowledge: when you know something, when don't know something, when you merely believe something (a hunch), and when your belief is rock solid (good enough to bank on). (It is also true for the "average" person that (s)he has some pretty definite and reasonably well-grounded (if limited) ideas about what kinds of things there are and what codes of conduct exist and are appropriate to the circumstances at hand; Philosophy, as more than one philosopher has wryly pointed out, is the one field of study you enter already knowing about the subject.)

When it comes to "knowing" how things are, where to get useful information, and what to do (in regard to one's daily affairs), people tend to be very adept, persistent, innovative and resilient. If one does not ordinarily understand the breadth and scope of the universe at large, it is because one does not ordinary experience the universe at large on a daily basis. For this reason most people have not formed definite and reasonably well-informed attitudes towards quarks, galaxies, Hittite kitchenware, "bubble"-chip technology, Sherpan diet, the poetry of William Shenstone, the tastiness of kryll or praseodymium.

Nor does it mean that because the average person has knowledge of this or that facet of reality that this knowledge is definitive or unerring, or even that it reflects general understanding of phenomena. To know something is not to know everything. Ancient and medieval astronomers could predict the motions of the planets and stars with remarkable reliability and accuracy, yet they did not know that the earth revolved around the sun, what the planets were made of, or of the existence or nature of gravity. Applied chemistry existed long before the discovery of its fundamental unit, the atom, and practical biology: medicine, animal husbandry and agriculture have been established arts for many thousands of years, despite the fact that most of what we know about biology was acquired during the last century.

Knowledge appears to admit of degrees, from pure understanding to pure ignorance, and the knowledge that people have seems always to fall somewhere in between. Why this is so is a good epistemological question. And it should always be kept in mind that there is a material, not merely theoretical, difference between little knowledge and much knowledge. Knowledge -- and I have not offered any definition of it as yet -- improves people's ability to achieve their aims and ends. And human achievement shapes, even determines, human existence. And that is material indeed.

Knowledge is one of a set of concepts that tend to blur together in practice: certitude, confidence, belief (support to varying degrees), intuition, divination, faith, doctrine and dogma, and superstition.

This list is not a linear characterization of good to bad -- although some take this to be the case -- with "truth" lying at one end of the spectrum. Truth turns out to be independent of this dimension of belief. One may disbelieve true claims and believe falsehoods with a free abandon that ought to shake most serious-minded people to the core of their souls.

This lists rather suggests a dimension of supports for belief (not knowledge), from overwhelming evidence in favor of a belief to a sheer break with sensible reality. All are specific forms of states of human being, the attitudes one may have towards truth claims. This axis presents a scale of justifications for belief: what one chooses to hold to be the case, and why one does so.

But how does Being (human being) come to figure into Knowledge? Because knowledge is an intentional relation between the Self and something else -- perhaps something real, and perhaps something that is only a figment of one's imagination, or something in between. Our common-sense presumption has always been that knowledge is the correct apprehension of the way things are. A claim about "the way things are" is a true claim if (and only if) that is indeed the way things are. (The classic example in Semantics and Philosophy of Linguistics is, "The statement: 'Snow is white' is true iff (if and only if) snow is white".)

Implicit in this account of truth is the fundamental relationship between a thing (here "thing" is extremely broad, and not restricted to material -- or even existing -- entities) and an observer that "sees", "feels", thinks of", "considers", "is aware of", "dreads", "loves" or otherwise "apprehends" that thing. Here is the ubiquitous "OF-ness" relationship central to the field of phenomenology (much more on this richly complex subject later). Phenoneology is the study of human experiences OF things. For there to be "knowledge of", or "belief about" or "thought of" some thing, there must be an "intentioning" being -- a person -- that has an idea of or attitude toward the object of its thought. This complex and elastic relationship between subject of thought and object of thought makes knowledge, belief, thought and other attitudes of persons -- their experiences OF the objects of their thought possible. Moreover, it makes our understanding of these apprehended things far more complex. A camera, microscope or telescope produces a straightforward analog (or digital) image of its intended object, the human mind does not. It does something far more intricate and involved, essentially recreating itself in response to what it perceives. A human being does not merely see, or taste or feel, or read or detect things, passively taking in data as a machine does, (s)he changes his/her being as a result. More than that, this relationship is determined in large part by the subject, and not merely the object, making for one of the most curious "Cause-and-Effect" relationships in nature. Human beings exist "as persons" in virtue of it.

A Terminological Aside

Here I would like to interject a terminological clarification in an attempt to forestall no end of pointless and needless ongoing confusion. There is a clear and important distinction between "knowledge" and "reality", two terms laymen and philosophers freely and sloppily interchange to their and their audience's peril. As I (and responsible philosophers) use these terms, "reality" is -- in the words of the Roman philosopher Lucretius -- "the way things are". (That, in fact is the title of one of his most popular works). "Reality" does not assume or presume any observer; if three pebbles lie at the bottom of a pond, the pond and the pebbles exist "as they are" (the formal term is "transcendence" -- lying above and beyond any perception, conception or "point of view") an intentioning being may have OF them. They exist in themsmselves, as they are, independently of any witness to the fact. Note that this definition of "Reality" does not assume or presume that "reality", as such, exists, only that this is what we mean by reality. There might (however odd and unlikely this may seem to us) be no state of affairs independent of observation. (In fact, certain aspects of quantum theory strongly suggest this possibility, although debate has not yet been settled on this fascinating and errie subject.) It may be the case that the only things that exist, exist in virtue of being observed. (The British Empiricist Bishop Berkeley, responding to Locke's comprehensive view of modern (empirical) science and to David Hume's skepticism (which effectively roped in Locke's magnanimous claims of knowledge derivable from human perception), suggested that all things exist only in virtue of being observed (but that, fortunately for us, God observes all, and hence all (that He created) exists.) Does Relaity exist? That is, do things exist in and of themselves, apart from the mental image persons (or dieties) have of them? I believe so, and so do many others, but in the last few decades, a great many people have revived an old and rather bizarre notion that reality is a state of mind, and with many minds around, there are thus many different realities. Comedian Robin Williams put this in a wonderfully pithy phrase: "Reality -- what a concept!" While some hold that reality is (nothing more than) a concept, I will take the view (and support it as needed) that Reality is something, of which we have apprehensions, ideas and concepts.

Truth and Knowledge, on the other hand, are clearly dependent upon observers, thinkers, apprehenders. Truth is a property of statements (or truth claims, or propositions). "Things" are not true, statements about things are true (or false) of the thing referred to in the statement, proposition or truth claim. Statements, in turn, along with propositions, truth claims, ideas of, attitudes towards, and thoughts of in general, require a thinker, speaker, observer or apprehender. Hence the "of-ness" of these conceptual objects comes into play. Signs, symbols, references, representations and meanings are objects that possess "of-ness": they are objects that are of other objects, a product and function of persons capable of being aware of the world, and of having ideas about it.

And why all this talk of Epistemology when the subject is Ethics and Morality? Simply, if we are to have a body of knowledge of ethics, and not simply a list of marching orders (which can be thrown aside as easily as followed, and more easily than followed correctly and/or faithfully) then we must be able to make true statements about ethical objects and phenomena. If we can't, it is difficult to say in what sense we "know" what ethics is, even to comment on its existence or non-existence. If such were the case, then -- as many of the 20th cnetury have held, ethics would be "non-cognative" (i.e., unknowable to us). This may turn out to be the case, just as it may turn out to be the case that there is no objective reality, just a bunch of disembodied minds thinking about each other, or, in the Hinduist tradition, one mind -- Bramin -- talking to himself, or in the Buddhist tradition, no one talking to anybody. (Or as they say -- who, you might ask is saying this?!? -- "Being Nobody, Going Nowhere" (also a book title)).

Nor is this issue of the tension between Objectivity and Subjectivity an idle concern. Not all epistemological systems have acknowledged this essential "relationship" feature of knowledge (between knower and thing known), which has leading to curious and often outrageous and untenable conceptions of knowledge. In fact, the 20th century has been dominated by the two most radical positions on epistemology that one can possibly take: in the first half of the century the epistemic view that there are no observers, only things putatively to be observed ["The View From Nowhere"], and in the second half, that there are only observers (and observations), and nothing out of these to observe ["Man is the Measure of All Things"].

The radical agendas of these two epistemic theories -- unbelievably coming at us back to back, and at times side by side, despite their absolute polarity -- have severally and jointly contributed to our dearth of ethical and moral knowledge. An understanding of their premises and goals -- and attractions -- will shed light on the depletive effect these two theories have had on moral knowledge. In my next blog, I will describe these two epistemic theories in more detail, and explain how -- despite the efforts of each of these to enlighten us in certain aspects of reality, managed to hobble our efforts to gain a thorough understanding of things in general, and specifically to cripple our understanding of ethical and moral matters.

After than I will present discussion on a more down-to-earth view of knowledge that will far better serve the investigator into ethical knowledge. The motivation for my taking the time and trouble to come up with an appraoch to knowledge than that offered by the extremists of 20th century is that (a) to have knowledge of Reality, one's Epistemology needs to be suitable and appropriate for the subject of study (more on this soon), and (b) to have knowledge of ethics -- a subject that appears to involve persons as subjects, and not merely as objects, of inquiry, action and being -- one requires a clear and full understanding of both elements of the knowledge relation: subject and object, as well as the peculiar but vital link between them: "of-ness".

RDB

Since 1903, when G E Moore declared in his "Principia Ethica" that the terms "ethics" and "good" had no definable meaning but were merely "intuitively understood" terms, our store of ethical knowledge has been draining rapidly. As of the new millenium our store has been empty. Distress at this paucity and the effect it has had on human society has led to a resurgence of interest in ethics among the philosophical community and concerned laypeople. With traditional ethics theories suspect, even discredited, and with no solid foundation for the current investigation to build on, this renewed examination of ethics must begin from scratch.

How can a society lose knowledge it once had? A recent report on the NASA Space Program illustrates one such way: contemplating a return to the moon (after some 30 years), space engineers attempted to look up the old blueprints for the Apollo lunar vehicle system. They discovered that most of the plans had been lost or thrown away. There are other ways in which knowledge can be lost: it can be discredited (fairly or not), rejected or ignored in keeping with changing social views, or simply abandoned and forgotten.

The knowledge a society actually possesses is warehoused in institutions, tended by custodians who gather, vet, organize, collate and distribute that knowledge to society that makes use of the knowledge. Many societies have allowed their stores of knowledge -- science, literature, engineering, agriculture, law and so forth -- to deteriorate and disappear. In many cases these stores have been deliberately purged of knowledge that conflicts with, frustrates or obstructs the facile wielding of political, cultural, religious or other social authority. Social expediency serves every bit as well, and is far more effective, as a lit match for the destruction of knowledge.

As a result, the purgative effects of skepticism, secularism, logical positivism, multiculturism, deconstruction and post-Modernism on the one hand, and the Frankensteinisn resurrection of religious medievalism, myth, dogma, superstition and mysticism on the other, we are presently left with a bare cupboard. But despite our stoic front, we sorely feel the absence of just and appropriate guidelines for social and personal behavior. We have rediscovered the distinction between freedom and anarchy. The canard that Freedom is the ability to do as one pleases, and that government (of any kind) is the limitation of that freedom is gradualy being abandoned as people realize that ethics is not about the repression of humn beings, but the cultivation of human Being itself.

My thesis, which I will defend in coming essays, is that ethics is the particular form of being that humans have. To lack an ethic is to lack human Being -- the most severe and extreme form of non-freedom imaginable.

A few years back, a CNN reporter stationed at the Capitol steps covering a story on rampant governmental corruption thrust a microphone into a congressman's face, asking him what avenues were available for dealing with this unchecked plague of misconduct. Speaking confidently and matter-of-factly, he began: "This problem can always be sent to the Congressional Ethics committee --" and then he wilted. Breaking off in mid-sentence, a pained grimace on his face, he stood silent, like the captian of a sea vessel, realizing for the first time that all of the lifeboats have been cast off, and there is nothing left to do but go down with the ship.

Mankind in the past has survived greater setbacks than the present dearth of ethical knowledge. As science writer Arthur C Clarke once observed in a survey of possible future catastrophes, human history has demonstrated the ability people have for enduring the most amazing and outrageously harsh and squalid circumstances nature can offer, but that mere base-line survival is a very low state indeed for creatures that aspire to and are capable of so much. Unlike famine, disease or catastrophic climatic change, human ethics is an entity of our own making. Mythologies aside, organanized and fruitful human existence is man-made; if we erected such systems once, we can rebuild them again, and if old systems reflected ignorance and prejudice, we can construct new systems that better serve its members and participants.

To flourish, to live a life worth living and embracing, will require a far better understanding of ethics and far more skilled application and implementation of ethical knowledge than the 19th and previous centuries have demonstrated. And such a life cannot be achieved and maintained in the environment of 20th century's "laissez-faire" attitude toward ethical beings and institutions. Ignorance is not bliss, but a numbness that separates people from the world, and from themselves.

At the beginning of the 21st century, the time is ripe for a fresh, hard, clear and vigorous re-examination of human practices, of human nature itself, and of human Being, in order to resolve the current dilmemmas that plague us and to avert future nightmares of our own making that will make the errors and atrocities of the 20th century pale in comparison.

RDB