Twofold Response to May

In response to May, I argue two things. First, I argue that May is too hasty in his analysis of the four potentially distinguishing features of conscience. As a result, I think that May fails to see that volitional necessities and the categorical demands of conscience are not the same, that conscience is not the capacity that “reflect[s] on the ultimate meaning of

441 _{Simon May (2017), 202} 442 _{Simon May (2017), 202}

life,” and that moral commitments are dissimilarly central to one’s moral identity when compared to non-moral projects. Second, I argue that May’s dilemma for the Moral Conscience principle can be unraveled when we introduce Sorabji’s definition of conscience beliefs. As a result of May’s dilemma failing, I contend that the Moral Integrity Response can be vindicated.

As noted above, I think May is too hasty in his analysis of the four potentially distinguishing features of conscience – and this causes him to overlook important differences between conscience and non-moral projects. First, May considers whether a person’s moral conscience is unique in that “it imposes categorical demands,” only to conclude that Chester’s ambitions similarly impose categorical demands on his life –

“demands that he experiences as volitional necessities on a par with his moral beliefs.”443

Unfortunately, May fails to realize that volitional necessities and the categorical demands of conscience are distinct.

As noted in a previous chapter, the first major difference between volitional necessities and the categorical demands of conscience is that desire and duty are largely separable within the latter but not so separable within the former. Since conscience beliefs are perceived obligations, we can understand them as categorical demands that someone believes they must perform. However, conscience beliefs differ from volitional necessities in that the demands of the former must be satisfied even if the individual does not desire or “care” about performing the demand at all. Whereas conscience places categorical requirements on individuals independent of their desires, volitional necessities are just desires all the way down.

Moreover, because volitional necessities “can arise from anything at all that a person cares about,” it is possible for the object of the volitional necessity to be amoral or

value-neutral.444 _{Another relevant difference thus arises: whereas the categorical demands}

of conscience cannot be value neutral, the demands of volitional necessities “need not have

any connection to…value.”445 _{This second difference between the categorical demands of}

conscience and the volitional necessities of non-moral projects is important for the current discussion of moral integrity: if a volitional necessity is thwarted by law, it does not necessarily involve an imperilment to moral integrity because it is possible that no moral values were involved. But when a categorical demand of conscience is thwarted by law, it necessarily involves an imperilment to moral integrity because moral values must always be involved. Insofar as the categorical demands of conscience require that individuals do things that they otherwise might not want to do and necessarily involve imperilments to moral integrity, they are different from the volitional necessities of non-moral projects and perhaps deserve differential treatment before the law as a result.

Moving forward, I also think that May is wrong to think – alongside Martha

Nussbaum446 _{– that conscience is the capacity that “reflect[s] on the ultimate meaning of}

life.” As noted in an earlier chapter, this view of conscience is misguided for several reasons. First, this view is, historically speaking, overinclusive: it attributes to conscience not only beliefs about what actions or attitudes had been in the past, or would be in the future, wrong or not wrong for us to adopt or not adopt in a particular situation, but also

444 _{Andrew Koppelman (2009), 216} 445 _{Andrew Koppelman (2009), 216} 446 _{Martha Nussbaum (2008), 19-20}

beliefs about what is or is not broadly meaningful to an individual. Second, this view seems to reverse the role of conscience as the applier (and not supplier) of our values: conscience now seems to be the capacity that primarily supplies our values – or something like our answers to these questions of ultimate meaning. Additionally, this view of conscience seems much friendlier than conscience’s historical roles as the creator of categorical demands, judger, accuser, acquitter, and so on. Lastly, the historical notion of conscience produces more than just “emotions of longing” connected to a search for ultimate meaning, and includes emotions like guilt, remorse, pride, joy, and relief. Thus, I think May mistakenly attributes this feature to conscience in his analysis of potentially distinguishing features of conscience.

Lastly, I think May fails to see that moral commitments are dissimilarly central to one’s moral identity when compared to non-moral projects. It is plausible that “Chester’s ambition to be world champion is no less central to his self-conception” or identity than his

friend’s moral principles are to theirs.447 _{But I take his friend’s moral principles to be}

nevertheless more central to their moral identity than Chester’s ambitions to be a world champion chess-player. Angelica and Biko’s conscience beliefs at least partly constitute their moral identity – for it seems difficult to articulate someone’s moral identity without ever referencing what they believe to be morally wrong to do or not do. Chester’s non- moral project, however, probably doesn’t have much to do, if anything, with his moral identity – especially when we consider that the object of his volitional necessities seems to be value-neutral. This distinction is likely important only insofar as considerations of one’s moral identity – which includes considerations of one’s moral integrity – may carry more