The Idea of the Good
Kant begins his ethics with the good. Clearing the ground for a metaphysics of morals, he states that it is âimpossible to think of anything at all in the world, or even beyond it, that could be considered good without limitation except a good willâ (GW 4:393; emphasis in original). So before even philosophy starts properly, when the topic is simply common human reason, Kant asks his readers to think about a good that is âwithout limitationâ (GW 4:393) and âabsolutely goodâ (GW 4:394). The answer, âgood willâ, leads to the further question: âwhat makes the will good?â to which Kant replies, it is not good on account of the âeffects or accomplishesâ (ibid.), but rather because of its form. The question then is how to characterise this form apart from saying that it is good. Kantâs imagined interlocutor, someone endowed with common human reason, must be thinking of something when thinking of the good will as absolutely good. The idea of a will that can be âgood in itselfâ and favoured above everything else simply in itself (ibid.) seems slippery, however.
Not only does Kant not allow any content to be thought here, such as effects produced by the will, he gives no clues as to how to direct thinking about such a good; indeed he grants that there is something strange in this train of thought, which could be a âmere high-flown fantasyâ (ibid.). Some would agree straightaway; abstracting the will from its âfitness to attain some proposed endâ (ibid.) takes away from us the resources to think about the good. More seriously this abstraction signals a âbreak with the concept humanâ,5 because seeking to imagine a perfectly abstract willing as good willing means already imagining a disembodied willing and this is an early and decisive wrong turn.6 I shall return to this shortly. First, I want to pursue another obvious line of attack.
In these opening lines of the Groundwork, Kant talks about the good as such, good without qualification, limitation, condition. This kind of talk, however, is possibly questionable and should be done away with. Following Geach (1956), Foot recommends an âattributiveâ understanding of adjectives such as âgoodâ and âbadâ.7 It is important to dwell on this point because it plays a foundational role in shaping Footâs position. Accepting Geachâs argument is a first move intended to provide a further, more fine-grained analysis of the âlogical grammarâ of moral evaluative terms.8 This is a long-standing commitment. In âGoodness and Choiceâ (1961), Foot develops an account of the good that is tied to function. She argues that there is a very large range of words which are not âfunctionalâ in the sense that philosophers useâe.g. âknifeâ, âpenâ, âeyeâ, ârootâââwhose meaning determines criteria of goodnessâ.9 Her examples include âfarmerâ, âriderâ, âliarâ, âdaughterâ, âfatherâ. The criteria of goodness in this latter category are not fixed by the use the thing is put to, but rather by the kind of interest we have in something and âwhat we expect from itâ.10 This takes us towards the point that Thompson then develops about goodness having human form. Given its significance for both Foot and Thompson, it is important to attend to the original Geachian point.
Geachâs target is the search for the good, principally exemplified in G. E. Mooreâs non-reductivism. Geach aims to show that âgoodâ behaves in a way that is not compatible with non-reductivism. Descriptive adjectives as in the sentence âthis is a red shoeâ can be parsed as âthis is redâ and âthis is a shoeâ; attributive ones, such as âthis is a good horseâ cannot be so parsed, because for âgoodâ ascriptions to be meaningful there need be always something to which they are attributed (â ⌠is a good Aâ, âAâ is a placeholder for a noun term). The argument is also applicable here, since I attribute to Kant the view that he has a good without qualification in his sights. Although it looks as if he is making attributive use of it, as in the good will, what guides the enquiry is the search for something that is good without qualification. âSomethingâ functions grammatically as placeholder for a noun term but conceptually the enquiry belongs with the tradition that searches for the good. So, the Geachian point still has a target in Kant. The way to respond to this challenge is to show that the idea of the good is conceptually well-defined, that it has a shape by which we can recognise it. This is exactly what Kant does when he tries to show that the good can be a form and connects the form of goodness with duty. Duty captures the common moral notion that moral goodness is about doing the right thing just because it is the right thing to do. Our pre-philosophical moral life then allows us to capture a form of goodness that is not dependent on anything external to it, such as inducements or consequences. Therefore, the thought of goodness we started with is not empty, or fantastical. It is rather common. It may be that Kantâs further attempt to specify this thought through the notion of law as an elucidation of the principle of duty goes wrong. But, so far we have no reason to abandon the path Kant opens for us.
We may decide to part ways when confronted with the issue of locating the form of goodness. Foot aims to show that âevaluations of human will and action share a conceptual structure with evaluations of characteristics and operations of other living things, and can only be understood in these termsâ;11 and again: âmoral judgment of human actions and dispositions is one example of a genre of evaluation itself actually characterised by the fact that its objects are living beingsâ.12 The point is forcefully made by Thompson, who argues that what keeps us âfrom accepting a naĂŻve Aristotelianism or a practical naturalism or a natural goodness theoryâ of the sort Foot presents is the idea that the concept human does not have the right sort of relation to knowledge to âcount as anything relevant to fundamental ethical theoryâ.13 This is why he thinks Kant âis so emphatic about dispensing with (what I am calling) the concept human within practical philosophy; it is something alien, impure, empiricalâ that must be replaced with âthe pure concepts of a rational being in general or of a personâ.14
To address these points, I propose to proceed as follows. First, I want to respond to the negative claim implicit in Thompsonâs discussion of Kant and it concerns Kantâs motivation for the move to pure ethics. Once this is cleared, and it is shown that it is not excess fastidiousness with the messiness of humanity that moves Kant, I will turn to Footâs positive doctrine about natural goodness, taking into account Thompsonâs eloquent elaboration of it, on the importance of the âconcept of humanâ, of keeping in our sights the life form that has arisen âon this planet, quite contingently, in the course of evolutionary historyâ.15
Kant explains the move to pure moral philosophy and the need for such a move in different but compatible ways. In the Groundwork he presents it as a result of a ânatural dialecticâ (GW 4:405); it is not speculation, he writes, but âpractical grounds themselvesâ that push us to step from our common practical assumptions to âthe field of practical philosophyâ (ibid.). The natural dialectic consists in this, that on the one hand we have the notion of goodness that fits our various purposes and then also the notion of doing the right thing just because it is the right thing to do. This latter, Kant says, is perfectly perspicuous to common human reason and without need for philosophy; common human reason distinguishes what is good and what is evil in a way that fits this notion of duty (cf. GW 4:404). We may challenge Kant that he has not shown that all such evaluations are indeed translatable into the vocabulary of duty. I think this is true. However, if we think of duty as a stand-in for the âcondition of a will that is good in itself, the worth of which surpasses all elseâ (GW 4:403), then duty and ordinary judgments of moral goodness do seem to coincide in that they capture goodness that shapes behaviour that can go against someoneâs interest at least narrowly conceived. The thought is that there is a good that is not translatable by saying âin my interestsâ, and which more generally does not take the form of qualified goods. Happiness promoting goods are of that sort. This is merely a conceptual distinction at this juncture, and it is a conceptual distinction Kant detects in ordinary moral thinking.
So why leave this happy place? What Kant thinks creates the need for philosophyâwhich, like Socrates makes common reason âattend to its own principleâ (GW 4:404)âis what happens when one âfeels within himself a powerful counterweight to all the commands of dutyâ (GW 4:405). If we stay at the level of common reason, there are solutions to this; we can either train ourselves better or try to fit better with the moral teachings we have been given, by attending to exemplars and so on. However, none of these addresses the philosophical worry about the ground of morality and the validity and authority of its commands. So practical philosophy is introduced to help us learn about the âsource of its principleâ (ibid.). This is not the full explanation of why Kant then adduces an a priori ground for moral laws, but at least it shows that it is not the idea Thompson (2004, 2013) attributes to him, namely that the natural kind âhumanâ is alien and external and so unable to contribute anything fundamental to ethical theory. The concern, rather, is with identifying a domain of a goodness that is moral and can serve as âgroundâ, âsourceâ (GW 4:405) or âbasisâ (MM 6:125) for such good. That the search turns to an a priori and not natural domain has to do with the question of authority of morality and the nature of agency, issues to which Foot is highly alert as I will now try to show.
Let us now turn to examine Footâs positive proposal. In Natural Goodness, Foot offers a systematic argument for the thesis about moral evaluations being a species of evaluations of natural good...