The economist must be a good utilitarian. He must want to see the greatest good provided for the greatest number. His job, amongst other things, is to play a role in enabling this to happen. Yes, he might admit, 'good' has its problems of definition. These, however, are seldom too great a cause for concern. It can be taken for granted for the most part that what is good can be distinguished with confidence from what is less good. And insofar as distinctions cannot be made, an increase in what an economist would call 'information' would hopefully - though (I hope he'd say) not necessarily - help remedy the problem.
The economist must, I think, be a believer in moral progress - and at the very least, in the possibility of moral progress - for society as a whole. He need not, however, be a committed political or social theorist. If push came to shove, he could conceive of himself as a (kind of) 'rule' utilitarian, or 'act' utilitarian, or 'preference' utilitarian. He could even, one supposes, disavow the underlying philosophical validity of any form of utilitarianism altogether - so long, that is, as 'private' judgements of this kind did not come to affect his 'economic' output. The analytical output of the economist, one might say, should orient itself solely to explorations of how far an increase in 'good' or welfare might be achieved, however much the economist in question doubts how far the hypothetical 'good' or welfare in his models will (ever) find itself transferred into the world at large.
How secure, though, is the economist's underlying assumption that moral progress can, has and will occur? The problems of definition here are immense. How do we measure morality? And what might moral progress consist in? Better health care? Better education? More equality? (How, moreover, should 'good' in each of these spheres be conceived?) The economist could and arguably should suggest all of them, at any rate, as necessary criteria. What, though, if 'progress' in each of the spheres in question were to bring about some cataclysmic event or events? The moral progress (if that is what it was) which human cultures made from the time of classical antiquity to the twentieth century was, after all, a 'progress' which included much increased potential for mass-suffering, murder and genocide. The mechanisms of control which civilisation had built up - through its own 'economic' institutions of education, health and civil service - led to these abuses. Economic institutions, of course, were also necessary for the combatting of sinister social influences in these spheres - albeit that they were often populated by negligent people of poor judgement. Even if this is so, it is some task to find some coherent doctrine of moral progress when we come to look at the total picture of our - not exactly very blameless - postcolonial, postimperial world. Such, of course, is the dilemma of postmodern man - whose confidence in the forward proceeding, upward trajectory of the historical process has been justly diminished by the horrors of the twentieth century. Must he, on their basis, abandon all hope of moral progress - in this or any other culture? And must he for this reason make a bad, or perhaps simply a compromised, economist?
The economist must, I think, be a believer in moral progress - and at the very least, in the possibility of moral progress - for society as a whole. He need not, however, be a committed political or social theorist. If push came to shove, he could conceive of himself as a (kind of) 'rule' utilitarian, or 'act' utilitarian, or 'preference' utilitarian. He could even, one supposes, disavow the underlying philosophical validity of any form of utilitarianism altogether - so long, that is, as 'private' judgements of this kind did not come to affect his 'economic' output. The analytical output of the economist, one might say, should orient itself solely to explorations of how far an increase in 'good' or welfare might be achieved, however much the economist in question doubts how far the hypothetical 'good' or welfare in his models will (ever) find itself transferred into the world at large.
How secure, though, is the economist's underlying assumption that moral progress can, has and will occur? The problems of definition here are immense. How do we measure morality? And what might moral progress consist in? Better health care? Better education? More equality? (How, moreover, should 'good' in each of these spheres be conceived?) The economist could and arguably should suggest all of them, at any rate, as necessary criteria. What, though, if 'progress' in each of the spheres in question were to bring about some cataclysmic event or events? The moral progress (if that is what it was) which human cultures made from the time of classical antiquity to the twentieth century was, after all, a 'progress' which included much increased potential for mass-suffering, murder and genocide. The mechanisms of control which civilisation had built up - through its own 'economic' institutions of education, health and civil service - led to these abuses. Economic institutions, of course, were also necessary for the combatting of sinister social influences in these spheres - albeit that they were often populated by negligent people of poor judgement. Even if this is so, it is some task to find some coherent doctrine of moral progress when we come to look at the total picture of our - not exactly very blameless - postcolonial, postimperial world. Such, of course, is the dilemma of postmodern man - whose confidence in the forward proceeding, upward trajectory of the historical process has been justly diminished by the horrors of the twentieth century. Must he, on their basis, abandon all hope of moral progress - in this or any other culture? And must he for this reason make a bad, or perhaps simply a compromised, economist?
What is certain is that he must take due account of the full extent of the warning of the twentieth century experience. That century - which in the popular consciousness is regarded as an 'age of progress' no less than the two centuries which preceded it - may well in future generations be viewed as nothing less than an age of (sinister) 'progress' towards the mass extinction of human beings in an overpopulated, overheated world. Historians of all stripes will be for the present inclined to take the view that the progress humanity made during and leading up to the twentieth century resulted in the most catastrophic humanitarian disasters ever witnessed. The utilitarian philosopher must conclude that if moral progress is being made, or has been made, across the human world as a whole, it came in the last century at some considerable price. The moralist must observe also that a persistent problem of the twentieth century experience was the behaviour of groups who felt able to justify bizarre and horrendous actions on the basis of some or other moral or scientific prerogative. Both morality (including utlilitarian moralities) and science can be and are abused by their practitioners. This abuse - and one might even go so far as to call it a systemic abuse which is endemic in our social structures where imperfect agents go about constantly making decisions in the absence of full information - should be held up forever as a constant barrier and limitation to any confidently expressed doctrine of moral progress.
As far as I'm concerned, insofar as twenty first century man can even dare to think in terms of moral progress (and, in his societal institutions, he must surely remain in some degree committed - as the economist is, at least in his professional life - to precisely such thoughts), an overwhelming sense of human limitedness and the appropriateness of feelings of humility concerning the insurmountable moral problems which bare upon human processes of decision making should surely characterise his outlook. This much need barely be said: it should be obvious enough that it is so. It is alarming that confident proclamations of the 'progress' made by human rationality in and through the natural sciences should sometimes so obviously lack this utterly necessary dimension. The deep problem, perhaps, is that humans have failed to doubt in appropriate degree the validity and authority of their own moral judgements. This is by no means a new problem. And however much 'progress' is made, what prospect is there that this perennial issue will melt away as we 'proceed' to new heights? There is much here, we should remember, that should trouble even the most confident economist whose work bears the hallmark of his utilitarian assumptions. The human world, we must always remember, is positioned delicately but unalterably in the palm of a totally unmeasurable, untameable, 'hand'.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment