So far, I have tried to develop a clear and plausible account of the political realist position and the critique of political moralism. The development of this account has involved a lot of critical engagement with the literature on political realism. However, there has not been much discussion of what a political moralist would say in response. The aim of this chapter is to develop the moralist response. There are two main claims that I will defend in this chapter. The first is that there not much of a gap between the political realist position and the political moralist one because no sensible political moralist would reject the ethic of responsibility. It might be true that their theories of justice are not directly helpful for political agents to act in politically responsible ways. As mentioned in the previous chapter, even non-ideal theories might be considered too ‘structural’ to be helpful guides for political agents in circumstances of radical disagreement. However, this is not the same as saying that they reject the ethic of responsibility.
The second claim I want to defend in this chapter is that we should be cautious when it comes to restricting political theory and what it should be. Political realists try to limit the definition or purpose of political theory in a way that is problematic. John Dunn argues that the “purpose of political theory is to diagnose practical predicaments and to show us how best to confront them”, which is why the contextualism associated with theorising about politics is so important (Dunn, 1990, 193). Raymond Geuss argues that “political philosophy must be realist” (Geuss, 2008, 9, emphasis mine). Rossi and Sleat argue that “realists maintain that political theory should begin (in a justificatory rather than temporal sense) not with the explication of moral ideals (of justice, freedom, rights, etc.), which are then taken to settle the questions of value and principle in the political realm but in an (typically interpretative) understanding of the practice of politics itself. Mainstream moralist political philosophy fails, from the realist perspective, to take seriously enough the peculiarities of the political and in doing so is unable to appreciate the complexity of the causal and normative relationship between morality and politics” (Rossi and Sleat, 2014, 690, emphasis mine). These are quite restrictive accounts of what political theory should be. There is a big difference between ‘it would be good if more work was done in political philosophy that was more political’ and ‘political theory must be realist’. One of the main goals of this thesis is to show that this constraint is
115 implausible. I agree with Andrew Mason when he argues that “Political theory is a diverse field, accommodating highly abstract inquiries that aim to identify fundamental normative principles by putting to one side facts about our natures and the circumstances in which we live, as well as more grounded forms of reflection that begin by paying close attention to the political problems we face and then seek guidance from the normative principles that are immanent in our practices” (Mason, 2016, 32). In other words, I believe it is important to defend a “qualified pluralism that recognises value in a variety of approaches and resists arguments that purport to show that one particular approach should occupy a privileged position” (Mason, 2016, 32).
5.1 - Intractable Disagreement or Can We All Get Along?
Many disagreements in the methodological disputes are not as stark as theorists believe. When Betty argues that political theory is about what the state should do and Bob claims that political theory is about what we should think, there are two ways of interpreting the disagreement between these individuals. We can either say that one of them is correct and the other is wrong, which means we either must accept that political theory is about what the state should do or it is about what we should think. Another way to interpret this disagreement is that they are merely interested in different questions. There are questions with regards to what the state should do, and there are other interesting questions about what we should think. The first interpretation of their disagreement is exclusive regarding what political theory is, while the second is inclusive. I believe a much stronger argument is needed to maintain the exclusive interpretation of this disagreement between Bob and Betty. It might be true that one question is more ‘valuable’ than the other. However, this is different from saying that we should not ask the other question.
Valentini sets up two opposing positions in the methodological disputes, which she refers to as ‘utopophobia’ and ‘factophobia’. Utopophobes are people who find theories of justice that set moral standards unlikely ever to be achieved problematic. For example, Galston argues that “realists reject [moralistic political theory] on the grounds that it is utopian in the wrong way – that it does not represent an ideal of political life achievable under even the most favourable circumstances” (Galston, 2010, 387). Valentini describes how “Utopophobes, in Estlund’s understanding, problematically
116 compromise normative principles in order to accommodate empirical realities. If it turns out that people are unlikely to conform with what morality requires, utopophobes let them off the hook” (Valentini, 2017, 12). On the other extreme are what Valentini defines as ‘factophobes’. She defines factophobia as “the tendency to elaborate normative principles under deeply counterfactual assumptions. This tendency, it is argued, results in the development of normative principles that are either misguided or counterproductive in real-world circumstances” (Valentini, 2017, 12). She goes through several disagreements between these positions and shows how there is no one clear answer to these disagreements. It is more plausible to believe that how factophobic or utopophobic we should be depends on the particular question being asked. We can go through a few of these examples to stress this point.
5. 1. 2 - Different Functions of a Theory of Justice
One debate she discusses is the ‘function of a theory of justice’, namely whether a theory of justice “can be purely evaluative, or whether it must also be normative” (Valentini, 2017, 20). She gives the case of Tim and Tom.
Tim and Tom: Tim and Tom are stranded on two separate islands. Tim has plenty of food, water, and resources. Tom lives in conditions of dire need. Their difference in resources and wellbeing is a sheer matter of luck. What is more, it is physically impossible for Tim to transfer resources over to Tom, or for Tom to move to Tim’s island.
In this case, some theorists of justice believe that Tim and Tom’s situation is unjust. For them, justice is purely evaluative, which means that if there is a disparity in resources, even if no one has committed a wrong, and there is no one who can rectify that wrong, it is still correct to say that the situation is unjust. There are those who say that while Tim and Tom’s situation is regrettable, it is not unjust. For these theorists, justice “always requires reference to actual rights and duties. Saying that a certain state of affairs is unjust, for them, implies that (i) someone’s rights have been violated and (ii) some agent has failed to act on the duties correlative to those rights” (Valentini, 2017, 20-21).
I agree with Valentini when she states that “as long as one is clear about the sense in which one is using the notion of justice and why, I find it unnecessary to take a stand
117 on whether this notion [justice] may only refer to normative, or also to purely evaluative claims” (Valentini, 2017, 21). Like Bob and Betty’s disagreement at the beginning of this section, we can either interpret this disagreement in an exclusive or inclusive way. Considering the plausibility of both positions, we should interpret the disagreement in an inclusive manner.50
5. 1. 3 – Can Theories of Justice be Action-Guiding?
Many other disagreements in the methodological debates can be thought of in this way. We can say a similar thing to the claim that political moralism is ‘useless’. There are many ways of interpreting the criticism that political moralism is useless. One way of interpreting the claim is that ideal theories of justice are too abstract or too idealised to guide action in the real world, especially under conditions of radical disagreement. As North explains the charge, political realists argue that
“justice is not capable of guiding actions of political actors because it is unsuited to the practical circumstances of real politics. Underlying this claim is the belief that theories of justice of the kind typified by Rawls are designed for an idealized society in which all citizens comply fully with the demands of justice. Realists argue that this assumption of full compliance renders a theory of justice incapable of guiding action because real world politics is characterized by noncompliance, and this affects what citizens and political leaders ought to do. A theory of justice cannot provide useful guidance because its failure to take account of noncompliance means that any recommendations it offers are at best useless and at worst dangerously misleading” (North, 2017, 75)
I believe this charge is exaggerated but ultimately true. The charge is exaggerated because even ideal principles can be action-guiding in a direct sense. North uses an example of how Amy should vote in a referendum which asks, “whether political parties and political campaigning should be funded publicly or by (unlimited) private
50 Valentini does accept that there might be “strategic reasons for wanting to use justice only in
relation to key rights and duties, without overexpanding its reach. If matters of justice are meant to be particularly serious, and are typically thought to convey wrongdoing, in order not to rob this term of its moral force, we should probably use it only sparingly in a purely evaluative sense” (Valentini, 2017, 21). However, I believe these strategic reasons are not strong enough to claim that it would be wrong or defective to use justice in its purely evaluative sense. At best, it gives us reasons to be cautious about using it in this way too often.
118 contributions” (North, 2017, 77). He is right to say that Amy might find that “Rawls’s first principle explains that political institutions are just only when they provide citizens with a fully adequate scheme of equal basic liberties, with fully adequate being understood to include fair value of the political liberties” and that public financing of elections is consistent with this principle, whilst unlimited private contributions are not (North, 2017, 77). This means that an ideal principle of justice (IE – Rawls’s first principle of justice) can generate clear action-guiding verdicts (in this case, how Amy should vote in this referendum).
However, the reason I say the criticism is ultimately correct is that Rawls’s principle of justice says nothing about how we can achieve a referendum on public financing in the first place, which is an issue of power rather than uncertainty about whether public financing is justified. If there were to be a referendum in the foreseeable future, polling data suggests that those in favour of radical reform of the funding of elections would win quite easily (Confessore and Thee-Brenan, 2015). Most people would probably reach this conclusion without relying on Rawls’s first principle of justice for their justification of how they should vote. However, the reason why this referendum has not happened yet is that there are those with power who benefit quite substantially from the current system of electoral financing. How should political agents deal with this form of non-compliance? How can a reasonable political agent generate a significant enough coalition of people to push back against the power of these non-compliant agents? Political realists are more interested in these types of questions, and they are ultimately correct that principles of justice will have a difficult time guiding political agents engage with issues of ‘real politics’ of the kind described above.
5. 1. 4 - Should That Always Be the Goal?
The question that we need to answer, however, is why political theories should be useful in this specific way? Aren’t there other questions we can ask in political theory that might not directly guide political agents in this way, but we can still consider being valuable? In the previous chapter, one of the books I applied the political realist critique to was Swift’s book on school choice. I showed how there is a sense in which the political realist critique applies to the arguments in the book. However, why should every book on political theory be geared towards directly guiding political agents? Is it not worth talking about the morality of school choice, what the state should do
119 (regarding the education system), and ask whether parents are acting hypocritically if they send their children to private schools when they have strong political views about social mobility? There are other questions for which Swift’s book would be quite useful, even if they are not the ones that political realists are interested in. More needs to be said about why there is something wrong with Swift engaging in questions of this kind rather than the kind that political realists believe theorists should be engaging in. The questions I listed above are also practical questions, in the sense that if a parent were to read Swift’s book on the morality of school choice, they would presumably be in a better position to make the best choice for their child and their moral and political views. However, it would be strange to believe that political philosophy necessarily has to be practical at all. Even some political realists admit that “there should be no shame, for scholars and intellectuals, in acknowledging that one’s main purpose is, frankly, intellectual” (Sabl, 2017, 381). We can imagine questions that political theorists are interested in which have little to no practical implications for us at all. To use a silly example, a political theorist might be interested in the question of what the ideal society of aliens would look like, aliens who had very different features from human beings. This alien normative analysis might be a purely intellectual exercise and have no practical implications for us in our world with human beings. However, there might be intellectual or intrinsic value to having this knowledge. It is important to note that I am not suggesting that this type of theorising is equally as valuable as Rawls’s A Theory of Justice. I am simply stating that it is not clear why there is something wrong with someone engaging in this type of theorising. G. A Cohen gives the strongest rejection of Peffer’s statement that “the entire raison d’etre of moral, social, and political philosophy and theory, in general, and theories of social justice, in particular, is to guide our action practice” by stating that even if guiding practice is a principal aim, “it does not follow that all questions within political philosophy are directed to that aim, that the stated aim is political philosophy’s ‘entire raison d’etre’. One may or may not care about practice, but one may also care about justice, as such, one may be interested in what it is, even if one does not care about practice at all” (Cohen, 2008, 306).
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5. 2 - Ought Implies Can
Another disagreement Valentini analyses, which is related to this idea that moralistic philosophy is ‘useless’, is the disagreement about ‘ought implies can’. For example, Griffin argues that “difficulty, if great enough, turns into impossibility; and that is so in many intermediate cases” (Griffin, 2015, 39). He acknowledges that there are extreme cases of virtuous human beings. For example, “Father Kolbe sacrificed his life in Auschwitz” to save others (Griffin, 2015, 39). However, this does not mean that he can do the same thing, “nor does it show that most human beings can” (Griffin, 2015, 39). Many utopian theories generate ought claims that most human beings will not abide by. His argument is based on the idea that many forms of partiality are what make life worth living, such as friendship, family, and a deep commitment to certain institutions, causes, and projects (Griffin, 2015, 39). There are a few who are virtuous enough to be so impartial that they are willing to sacrifice these things that make life worth living. However, most of us ‘cannot’, and therefore, for most people, we ought not to strive for complete impartiality.
Factophobes can either argue that ought implies can is not a desideratum of a theory of justice, reject the idea that ought implies can, or argue that the most plausible interpretation of ought implies can is about literal human capabilities rather than how most people will most likely act. A theory of justice that is purely evaluative can readily accept that ‘ought implies can’ is not a desideratum of their theory. Not everyone will be willing to take this route. Many normative theorists agree that ought implies can. However, they will disagree with political realists about how we should interpret the ‘can’ in ‘ought implies can’. Some take an expansive interpretation and say ‘can’ refers to “overall human agential possibility” (Valentini, 2017, 25). G. A Cohen argues that we could literally be more egalitarian and live up to the demands of equality. However, he also acknowledges that we will not. This does not mean that there is no ought, because merely because ‘we will not’ does not mean that we ‘cannot’ (Cohen, 2008). Estlund similarly argues that “even zero probability that an action will be performed does not entail inability. The reason is that, recall, zero probability does not entail difficulty” (Estlund, 2014, 119).
121 Who has the better interpretation of ought implies can? I agree with Valentini that there are good reasons to be more optimistic rather than pessimistic about human nature and motivation when we say ‘ought implies can’. However, this does not mean that we cannot ask normative questions with differing levels of human motivation and capability. It is difficult to tell who is correct in this debate about ought implies can. As Wiens argues “given the number of variables to which our feasibility assessments must be sensitive, the complexity of their interactions, and the potential for path dependence, determining whether any particular long-range objective is feasible is beyond human cognitive capacity” (Wiens, 2015, 467). Rawls states explicitly that “the limits of the possible are not given by the actual … we have to rely on conjecture and speculation, arguing as best we can that the social world we envision is feasible and might actually