Closing the Gap Between Ethics and Epistemology

1

CLOSING THE GAP BETWEEN ETHICS AND EPISTEMOLOGY At some level, it is reasonable to characterize the intellectual virtues as either cognitive faculties or character traits. Both internalists and externalists are welcome to utilize the notion of intellectual virtue to enhance their respective theorizing, even if their models are widely distinct in structure and implication. As such, there is no “pure� form of virtue epistemology. Nevertheless, one would be mistaken to think that the nature of these models is completely irrelevant, as there are clear benefits to conceiving the virtues as character traits. Most of all, this particular emphasis paves the way for both an epistemic and moral analysis of the agent, with this ethical element introduced primarily through the focus on the epistemic goods of understanding and wisdom.

Because the intellectual virtues, understood in this manner, have both epistemic and moral implications for the agent, we can imagine a virtue theory that serves to connect the normative disciplines of ethics and epistemology in significant ways. I am concerned that many epistemologists have isolated themselves from the insights of ethical theory, and I believe there is ample opportunity for cross-exploration between these two fields. In this essay, I will address whether ethics and epistemology are too distinct to warrant such overlap, and I will argue that the distinction between the moral and intellectual virtues should be made less sharply. Ultimately, my goal is to provide some general methodological suggestions for contemporary epistemology, and I hope these suggestions highlight a more holistic approach to the discipline of philosophy.

2 I. In the most general sense, an intellectual virtue is a character trait for which one rightly deserves praise or credit for manifesting. To some degree, the notion of praise is intimately tied to the concept of the good, as one doesn’t warrant the praise of others unless she is, at some level, a morally good person. Indeed, if there is a connection between belief and action, then agents who practice intellectual virtue will be more likely to think rationally and responsibly about ethical matters. As such, intellectual virtue will typically give rise to moral virtue. So this insight represents an important example of how the intellectual virtues bring together the epistemic and moral evaluation of the agent.

For more traditional theories of knowledge, however, it is more common to isolate the epistemic evaluation from the moral counterpart. One can be epistemically justified in believing some proposition, with this positive epistemic status being independent from any facts about the individual’s moral character. Indeed, the positive epistemic status will often obtain in spite of a negative moral evaluation. For example, a military general might possess a host of justified beliefs, which enable him to wage a successful campaign against the enemy. But this fact is perfectly consistent with his use of various immoral and unsavory tactics to achieve that victory. In this way, the two fields of epistemology and ethics are normally treated as conceptually distinct in orientation.

Why have philosophers so widely embraced this distinction? There are at least a couple possible explanations. Linda Zagzebski, for instance, has suggested that we have “inherited a way of doing philosophy that sharply divides these two fields, and that can

3 probably be traced back to the ancient Greek insistence on dividing the soul into an intellectual part and a part that is the seat of emotion and choice.”1 While Zagzebski is correct that the ancients understood the soul as consisting of parts, in most cases these parts were viewed as being significantly integrated into a larger whole. For example, a defect in the appetitive part of the soul would negatively affect the intellectual part of the soul, and vice versa. From the mere fact that these parts are distinct, it does not follow that they operate in independent fashion. On the Thomistic account, for instance, there is a great sense of holism, in spite of these distinctions.2 Indeed, his philosophy offers no sharp boundaries between ethics and epistemology, and therefore provides some motivation for viewing these two fields as intimately connected.

For example, Aquinas treated prudence as both a moral and intellectual virtue. As an intellectual virtue, it aids the mind in correctly reasoning about actions to be performed, and it aims at the good of the agent. As a moral virtue, it perfects the intellect in its practical activities. As A.N. Williams helpfully explains, “prudence is intellectual inasmuch as it is a form of wisdom, and moral in that it guides action. Because reason is the first principle of all human acts, it is impossible for the moral virtues to exist without the intellectual virtues.”3 Since prudence is right reason concerning human conduct, it requires that the agent be well disposed towards the proper ends of action. In order to be well disposed in this manner, the agent must have well ordered appetites. Of course, the appetites are well ordered by the moral virtues, chief among them being prudence.

1

Linda Zagzebski, “Virtue in Ethics and Epistemology,” ACPA Presidential Address, 1997.

2 To a great degree, the fundamental themes of this essay are motivated by an appreciation for the Thomistic view of the human person.

3 A.N. Williams, “Argument to Bliss: The Epistemology of the Summa Theologiae,” Modern Theology Vol. 20:4 (2004), p. 515.

4 But the relationship also goes in the other direction: in order to possess the moral virtues, the agent needs to have prudence. This is because in order to perform morally good deeds, it not only matters what the agent does, but how the agent does it. The agent must, therefore, aim at some good end and also make a right choice about the means to that end. But in order to secure these good ends the agent needs reason and intelligence in choosing the right means. And so to insure that the agent makes the right choice on this matter, he or she needs prudence. This is precisely what Williams means when he claims that, on the Thomistic view, it’s impossible for the moral virtues to exist without the intellectual virtues. This blurring of the distinction between ethics and epistemology, illustrated in Aquinas’ understanding of the virtue of prudence, points to a more general and lofty goal of human activity. 4 To be sure, most contemporary epistemologists will be hesitant to endorse a fullfledged Thomistic account of the virtues, perhaps mostly because of its relationship to the background metaphysical scheme. But one can certainly find value in his understanding of the virtues without being obliged to accept Aquinas’ theory of cognition and human psychology.5 At the very least, his model provides a starting point for the project of connecting ethics and epistemology. It seems that for this project to be successful, it would be helpful to distinguish less sharply between the moral and intellectual virtues, and that is precisely the route that Aquinas models for us.

With these thoughts in mind, I’m inclined to think that the compartmentalization of ethics and epistemology is rooted in some other conceptual theme. Probably more 4

That is, a telos for moral and cognitive activity that transcends right action and true belief.

5 For an excellent introduction to these topics, see Anthony Kenny, Aquinas on Mind (New York: Routledge Press, 1994).

5 likely is the recent trend towards the “naturalization” of epistemology, most notably articulated in the work of Quine6 and Goldman.7 Among other things, naturalized epistemology involves the reducing of epistemic states to their natural counterparts, such that the former supervene on the latter. Or to put it differently, epistemic concepts must be explicated by utilizing non-epistemic terms. Along these lines, epistemic justification, for example, becomes a term that is defined by appealing to the various psychological, evidential, or probabilistic relations that obtain between a believer and the object of belief. The result is that once these “natural” facts are properly accounted for, one has everything that is required for describing epistemic justification. Jaegwon Kim has explained this position in the following manner: “If a belief is justified, that must be so because it has certain factual, non-epistemic properties...That it is a justified belief cannot be a brute fundamental fact... [it] must be grounded in the factual descriptive properties of that particular belief.”8 Goldman has similarly explained the importance of supervenience along the following lines: In making an evaluation, a speaker assumes some factual basis, or grounds, for the evaluation. In judging an athlete to be outstanding, for example, a speaker presumably relies on some set of actual feats that the athlete has performed. In appraising a student as superior, a speaker bases the judgment on some set of achievements, such as percentage of correct answers to questions or problems. In general, evaluative status does not enter the world autonomously. It always ‘supervenes’, as philosophers sometimes put it, on purely factual states of affairs.9

6

See W.V. Quine, “Epistemology Naturalized,” In Epistemology: An Anthology, eds.

Ernest Sosa and Jaegwon Kim (Malden: Blackwell, 2000), p. 237-55.

7 See Alvin Goldman, “Epistemic Folkways and Scientific Epistemology,” Philosophical Issues,Vol. 3 (1993), p. 271-85.

8 Jaegwon Kim, “What is Naturalized Epistemology?” Philosophical Perspectives 2, ed.

James Tomberlin (Asascadero: Ridgeview Publishing, 1988), p. 399.

9 Goldman, Epistemology and Cognition, p. 22.

6 Goldman later admits that it is controversial which factual states should be linked with epistemic evaluations, as the answer to this question is what primarily distinguishes the competing theories of knowledge and justification. Whatever the proper factual states should be, it seems clear that they’ll be distinct from their ethical counterpart.

So there is a similar kind of naturalization that takes place in ethics, in which moral concepts supervene on non-moral states. And it is perfectly reasonable to understand such concepts along these lines. The situation becomes tricky, however, when one begins to analyze the sort of states under consideration, in both ethics and epistemology. In short, an epistemic state is something quite dissimilar from a moral state, such that it is difficult to imagine treating the two fields as synonymous. What exactly is the source of this dissimilarity? It seems to be, at the very least, the differing goals of these two fields. Stated very simply, the goal of ethics, or ethical action, is the good; the goal of epistemology, or epistemic activity, is the truth.10 These are both laudable goals for human activity, but they are very different in nature. The facts or states of affairs which make an action good are distinct from the facts which make a belief true or justified, particularly when these facts are understood in terms of a supervenience theory.

To explain somewhat differently, a good action, in any given situation, will be a product of at least three factors: the operative moral principle, the contingent facts of the situation, and the internal motivations of the agent. All of these factors must be analyzed before a moral evaluation is warranted, and the subsequent conclusion will vary widely from situation to situation. In matters epistemic, however, there is considerably more 10

To be consistent, I should clarify that truth is just one goal of epistemic activity, and it is probably even subservient to the goals of understanding and wisdom.

7 objectivity and consistency. Whether a belief is justified, for example, has virtually nothing to do with facts about the agent’s internal motivation. And depending on what kind of theory of justification is preferred, it might not even depend on facts about the particular situation.11 This strikes me as a very plausible explanation for the current dichotomy that exists between ethics and epistemology. While these are both normative fields of study, their standard objects of inquiry are sufficiently distinct to preclude any such identity claims. To be sure, this is a fairly reasonable stance, at least given a certain understanding of these fields. In other words, as long as the locus of evaluation is exclusively the action performed (or belief held) by the agent, then the dissimilarity will be difficult to avoid. But when ethics and epistemology, instead, are interpreted through the lens of a virtue theory,12 the picture begins to change rather dramatically. In both fields, the emphasis becomes the personal agent and his character, rather than the actions he performs (or the beliefs he holds). Once the attention is shifted to the agent, and away from these external factors, there emerges one single object of evaluation, which in turn has both moral and epistemic implications. In short, only a virtue theory has the resources for effectively connecting ethics and epistemology.

To be clear, this is not to suggest that the distinction between ethics and epistemology should be dissolved completely. For there will still be an epistemic and moral evaluation that is forthcoming in the standard cases. In matters epistemic, for instance, there will be an analysis of beliefs or propositions, with results that will often 11

These points are assuming a reliabilist theory of justification, in which facts about the cognitive agent and his environment are largely ignored when determining if a belief is justified.

12 For a definitive summary of virtue theory, see Philippa Foot, Virtues and Vices (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), p. 1-18.

8 conflict with the moral analysis. And epistemologists should be free to develop whatever theories of doxastic or propositional justification that seem most reasonable. But it does point to the existence of more overlap between moral and epistemic evaluation than is typically admitted. And again, this is precisely because of the emphasis on the virtues, which in many cases will have both moral and epistemic implications.

II. Even apart from any consideration of the virtues, however, there is already some reason to think that ethics and epistemology are quite closely related. The fact that the two fields make use of similar language is a plausible sign of this connection. Richard Feldman comments on this similarity, albeit while avoiding any mention of reductionistic theories: Our talk about epistemic matters parallels our talk about ethical matters in noteworthy ways. In the case of ethics, we say that a person ought to perform a certain action, that someone should not do a certain thing, that people have obligations to act in some ways, that they have rights and duties, and that they deserve praise and blame for what they have done. We make seemingly analogous epistemic judgments about beliefs. We say that a typical wellinformed contemporary American ought to believe that the Earth revolves around the Sun and should not believe that the Earth is flat. We say that a person has a right to believe one thing and perhaps a duty to refrain from believing something else. We sometimes praise those who believe the things they should and we criticize those who fail in their believings.13 Of course, the mere fact that both ethics and epistemology utilize this sort of normative language doesn’t compel the view that the two fields are analyzing the same subject matter. But it does perhaps guide us in that general direction, particularly when both fields are understood in the context of a virtue theory. To say that an agent is virtuous or praiseworthy for manifesting some character trait, such as intellectual perseverance or 13

Richard Feldman, “The Ethics of Belief,� Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, Vol. 40:3 (2000), p. 667.

9 open-mindedness, is to attribute something, however minimal, about her moral status. At the very least, the fact that our moral and epistemic analyses converge in this manner provides some impetus for considering whether ethics and epistemology, in general, have additional areas of overlap. In other words, the emphasis on the virtues represents the starting point for correcting the isolationist tendencies of these two fields.

What, then, does it mean to “close the gap” between ethics and epistemology?

Some philosophers, most notably Zagzebski, have argued that we should subsume epistemology under the more general umbrella of ethics, with the result that epistemological concepts become a subset of ethical concepts.14 While I find this sort of holism rather attractive, I’m not convinced that such a reduction can account for the standard areas of inquiry found in contemporary epistemology. For example, it just doesn’t make sense to insist that doxastic justification is, ultimately, a moral state.

Roderick Firth has also criticized this approach, arguing that the meaning of epistemic terms is too ambiguous to fruitfully translate them into ethical language.15 So all things considered, the reductionistic approach will likely not prove helpful for connecting ethics and epistemology.

A more plausible suggestion is to connect ethics and epistemology by utilizing the insights and principles from one field as a starting point for making progress in another.

Such a methodology is made plausible by the fact that both ethics and epistemology represent normative philosophical disciplines. They both involve, to some degree, the process of prescribing how moral and cognitive agents ought to conduct their activities, 14

See Zagzebski, Virtues of the Mind, pp. 255-58.

See Roderick Firth, “Are Epistemic Concepts Reducible to Ethical Concepts?” In Values and Morals, eds. Alvin Goldman and Jaegwon Kim (Dordrecht: Reidel Publishing, 1978), p. 215-29.

15

10 although this emphasis is less clearly emphasized in some theories of knowledge. To put it differently, both ethics and epistemology are regulative branches of philosophy,16 and so it stands to reason that the general principles that are operative in ethics will also be relevant for epistemology, and vice versa.

To better explain what I have in mind here, consider the precocious young child who grows up building electric trains or toy airplanes. As his knowledge of physics or aerodynamics increases, he is able to manipulate his resources to design and produce a more functional and reliable unit. Perhaps when he is older his childhood fascination with such sport grows into a desire to become a professional engineer or pilot. While the object of his study will become more detailed and rigorous, the fundamental laws that made his childhood efforts successful have not changed. On the contrary, those principles just need to be modified to scale and applied to the appropriate context, resulting in the same level of knowledge and competence as before. While this analogy is not perfect, it does come close to capturing how I’m viewing the relationship between ethics and epistemology. Perhaps the only caveat is that in the philosophical realm, awareness of context will prove even more important for determining how to apply principles from one field to another.

Because ethics and epistemology are regulative disciplines, this means that their respective activities are aimed at some end, which is perceived to be desirable. But it would be rather myopic to assume that these goals should be limited to goodness and truth. I would like to propose that both moral and epistemic activity be more broadly focused on the good as it relates to human flourishing. In short, a person who manifests 16

An insightful defense of regulative epistemology can be found in Robert Roberts and Jay Wood, Intellectual Virtues (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007).

11 the virtues (both moral and intellectual) is just better equipped as a human being, and is in a better position to realize the good life—whatever external factors that might come into play. It is my conviction that contemporary epistemology is suffering from a case of value monism, and that it needs to consider the value of other epistemic goods beyond truth. But a similar criticism might be leveled against contemporary ethics, with the insight that right action is just one narrow goal to be pursued.

What I’m envisioning here is a teleological account of human flourishing, of which both moral and intellectual activity have as their ultimate target. In this way, both kinds of activities have a narrow and broad focus. The narrow focus aims at goodness and truth, as these are valuable states to achieve. But their value is instrumental toward achieving the greater goal of human flourishing, or what the ancients called eudaimonia,17 and this would represent the broad focus of such activity. The virtues represent the point of integration in this theory, given their multi-faceted nature, and their ability to enable the agent, all things considered, to reach these goals.18 With that in mind, it’s easier to grasp how ethics and epistemology can relate. If both fields are designed to contribute to the same broad goal, then it’s less necessary to view them as completely independent. Sure, the respective evaluations will remain somewhat distinct. But it stands to reason, for example, that the successes achieved in one field are relevant to the other field—that insights obtained in ethics might be relevant for certain epistemological problems. At this point, I wish to suggest a couple points of 17

See Julia Annas, The Morality of Happiness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995).

18 I’ve already suggested that the virtues should be interpreted through a fallibilistic lens, given the fact that their status as virtues is likely socially conditioned, and perhaps even subject to various skeptical implications. Nevertheless, we are perfectly reasonable to champion their employment and assume their reliability in helping us understand the world.

12 interaction between ethics and epistemology. Specifically I will be addressing how theories of epistemic justification closely parallel theories of morality, and why philosophers should pay more attention to these similarities.

III. As Zagzebski has pointed out, there is a clear parallel between deontological ethics and epistemology. In the last century, Roderick Chisholm developed a theory of justification in terms of epistemic duty and permissibility. Very roughly, the idea is that a proposition, p, is justified for an agent if it is permissible for him to believe. Or to phrase it differently, the proposition is justified if it is false that the agent ought to refrain from believing it.19 According to Zagzebski, “this led to discussion of a priori rules or norms of belief-formation arising from the nature of rationality itself, all of which is modeled on a Kantian-style theory of morality.” 20 But there is also a parallel between consequentialism and reliabilism, as both theories focus primarily on the ends of their respective activities. As Zagzebski explains: In reliabilist theories the epistemic end is to bring about true beliefs and to avoid bringing about false beliefs, just as on consequentialist theories the moral end is to bring about good state of affairs and to avoid bringing about bad states of affairs.

Like most consequentialist ethics, reliabilism understands the good as quantitative. Whereas the moral aim according to the utilitarian is to maximize the balance of pleasure over pain, our epistemic aim, according to the reliabilist, is to maximize the balance of true over false beliefs.21 More interesting is the connection between moral conventionalism and epistemological contextualism. According to the latter theory, knowledge attributions should be understood as being context sensitive. That is, whether it can be claimed that an agent knows a given proposition will depend, for instance, on the nature of the 19

See Roderick Chisholm, Theory of Knowledge, p. 89.

Zagzebski, “Virtue in Ethics and Epistemology,” p. 4.

21 Ibid.

20

13 discussion at that particular time. If the discussion is focusing on skeptical arguments, then the epistemic standards are raised, and it becomes less reasonable to claim that the agent knows the proposition in question. On the other hand, if the agent is in a normal semantic context, in which skeptical arguments are not raised, then claims to knowledge are more plausible. One implication of this unique theory of knowledge is that two individuals, who are psychologically identical, might differ with respect to their epistemic status, depending on the semantic context they find themselves in.22 While this theory is somewhat novel in contemporary epistemology, it closely parallels a similar intuition in ethics, which has received widespread attention over the years. According to moral conventionalism, an individual’s moral principles are correct only if they are in conformity with the moral principles of his or her society. The obvious result is that the judgment of whether an action is morally good will depend on the operative social context. As such, two individuals who are otherwise psychologically identical will differ with respect to their moral status, depending on these outside factors.23 While there are some obvious differences between these two theories, they are fundamentally rooted in the same conviction—a non-absolutist understanding of right and wrong, knowledge and justification. And it strikes me that if one considers epistemological contextualism a plausible theory, then there is some reason to extend the same charity to moral conventionalism. Of course, one could certainly be a contextualist in matters epistemic, but insist on some kind of absolutism in ethics. The simple point, however, is that the same reasons that make contextualism plausible also give significant 22

For more details, see Keith DeRose, “Contextualism and Knowledge Attributions,” Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, Vol. 52: 4 (1992), p. 913-29.

23 For a defense of moral conventionalism, see John Kekes, “Moral Conventionalism,” American Philosophical Quarterly, Vol. 22:1 (1985), p. 37-46.

14 credence to conventionalism. At the very least, this fact should be taken into account when developing a moral philosophy.

Along similar lines, it strikes me, at least initially, that no general account of the intellectual virtues can be universal in application. In other words, which character traits represent virtues will be a contingent fact, somewhat relative to social context. This is not to suggest that all virtues are context-sensitive in this way, but merely that some are dependent on the goals and ideals of the surrounding environment. For example, in a culture milieu with very little religious or political diversity, the trait of open-mindedness will be less admired and valued, perhaps because of its tendency to produce conflict and division.24 In fact, one could even imagine situations in which such a “virtue” would be considered counter-productive to the goals of the community. In military or combat settings, for instance, uniformity and commitment to tradition is viewed as necessary for the success of the group—manifesting open-mindedness might even jeopardize the lives of its members. As such, it might be naïve to think that a definitive and universal list of the virtues could ever be developed, even if we have excellent reasons for thinking that certain traits are more beneficial than others.25 The same traits that we consider admirable and praiseworthy in our culture might be, in a different context, actually harmful and blameworthy. Having said that, however, I am open to the possibility that 24

Because of my understanding of the virtues as generally conductive for achieving the good life, this is a fairly difficult pill to swallow, as it suggests that the good life is a relative notion. However, one might respond that in such a culture, this trait would still be considered a virtue, albeit only with respect to certain areas of inquiry.

25 Another possibility is that we are victims of a skeptical scenario, in which all the character traits assumed to be virtuous actually lead us to form false beliefs about our physical environment. Since we can’t be certain that this isn’t the case, we should probably understand the virtues as being tentatively reliable in helping us develop true beliefs about the world.

15 some character traits, in normal worlds, are universally efficacious in achieving standard epistemic goals. For example, it might be plausible to distinguish between virtues which are context-sensitive and those that are more absolute in their status. Along these lines, one might develop a “graded” theory of intellectual virtues, in which certain admirable character traits are more fundamental in nature, and therefore not subject to social conventions or perspectives. In short, our understanding of the intellectual virtues must be qualified and tempered by these insights.

If this is plausible for the intellectual virtues, then these insights might also apply to the moral virtues. In short, what counts as a moral virtue, at least in some cases, will be a product of social factors and considerations. This conviction, or something very much like it, has been famously articulated by Alasdair MacIntyre,26 and represents an obvious departure from the Aristotelian form of virtue theory. At any rate, consistency might very well require that the virtues, both moral and intellectual, be conceived in this manner. But more to the point, if social factors are relevant for determining what counts as a virtue, then perhaps they are also relevant for judging the rightness or wrongness of human action itself. In this way, a preliminary insight concerning intellectual virtue might produce significant ramifications for how meta-ethical theories, in general, ought to be developed and articulated.

The point that I’m making could be easily misinterpreted. What I’m not suggesting is that the truth of one theory, say, in epistemology, entails the truth of its parallel theory in ethics. For one thing, it will never be indisputable that any particular theory, in either field, perfectly captures the truth of reality. So it would be 26

See Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory, 3rd ed. (South Bend: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007).

16 presumptuous, to say the least, to think that such inferences are readily available for philosophers to employ. On this point, Dancy concurs and writes the following: I just don’t think that much is gained by finding a view similar to one’s own in a cognate area which has had a good run for its money there. This might achieve respectability for one’s own view, but could hardly count as evidence for its truth…In my view the two areas are strongly analogous, and truth in one will probably be pretty like the truth in the other. However since I do not think that the truth of the matter has yet been discovered in ethics, I shall not be arguing from ethics to epistemology. 27 So the sound principles that are operative in ethics are likely relevant for epistemology, but the problem is that it’s not altogether clear which principles are sound in the first place. But secondly, it’s entirely possible that the two fields operate under completely different principles. This insight should lead one to treat the alleged connections between ethics and epistemology as mere methodological suggestions, rather than a rigid algorithm for philosophical theorizing. Once again, the context will matter immensely, and one must always take this into consideration.

IV. Nevertheless, it is worthwhile to consider a few other structural parallels between ethics and epistemology. In the former field, there is a strong tradition of libertarianism, which holds that moral agents are free with respect to some action, only if they could have refrained from performing that action. This notion of counterfactual freedom is considered important for matters of moral responsibility—if one cannot refrain from performing an action, then it seems unfair to blame him for that failure. To be sure, there have been numerous criticisms of libertarianism over the years, arguing that determinism is not incompatible with free will,28 or defending alternative conceptions of human 27

Dancy, “Externalism for Internalists,” p. 94.

See Kai Nielsen, “The Compatibility of Freedom and Determinism,” In Free Will, ed.

Robert Kane (Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2002), p. 39-46.

28

17 freedom, and so on. But the view that moral responsibility requires counterfactual freedom remains a fairly straightforward and commonsense position for one to hold.

And not surprising, this same intuition in ethics also emerges in epistemological discussions. For example, a number of epistemologists have argued that deontological conceptions of epistemic justification are fundamentally misguided.29 The primary source of the problem seems to be the fact of doxastic involuntarism—that humans lack direct control over their belief formation processes. In short, if a cognitive agent cannot compel himself to believe a given proposition, then it makes little sense to insist that he ought to believe that proposition, or that he has an epistemic duty or obligation to believe it. Alvin Plantinga has argued, regarding any given proposition, that “whether or not I accept it is simply not up to me; but then accepting this proposition cannot be a way in which I can fulfill my obligation to the truth, or, indeed, any obligation.”30 And yet this is precisely what is suggested by certain theories of justification—particularly of the evidentialist variety.

The proponent of doxastic involuntarism is not exactly claiming that our noetic structure is determined to include certain beliefs, so the parallel to ethics is slightly undermined here. But he or she is claiming that epistemic responsibility requires direct control over belief formation, and this factor is obviously lacking if doxastic involuntarism is true. More to the point, this is the same conviction that gets developed in moral philosophy, in the context of discussions of determinism and free will—that moral responsibility requires direct control over action. Once again, the point I’m 29

See William Alston, “The Deontological Conception of Epistemic Justification,” Philosophical Perspectives, Vol. 2 (1988), p. 257-99.

30 Alvin Plantinga, Warrant: The Current Debate (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), p. 38.

18 making is very simple: if this general principle is relevant for ethics, then it ought to be relevant for epistemology as well, and vice versa. On the other hand, if there is reason to think that moral responsibility, for example, does not require counterfactual freedom, then this insight might very well apply to the epistemological discussion. To wit, perhaps an argument could be developed to the effect that epistemic responsibility is compatible with the truth of doxastic involuntarism.31 To be clear, the point here is not to endorse one particular theory over another, but rather to specify a helpful methodology for analyzing ethical and epistemological theories.

Furthermore, if the notion of epistemic praise is to be taken seriously, then it makes better sense to conceive the virtues as character traits, rather than cognitive faculties or processes. This is because a cognitive faculty, such as vision or memory, is not something which the cognitive agent exercises sufficient control over—at least not to the degree that would make attributions of praise very meaningful. This insight is grounded in a parallel ethical intuition, regarding the conditions which must be satisfied to morally praise or blame someone. To warrant this type of attribution, it is not enough that someone performs the right action. Rather, the action must be performed for the right reasons, or to go a step further, the action must be the product of a stable disposition to act in such ways. In this case, it is quite clear how the ethical intuition closely parallels the epistemological version.

Finally, recall the above description of the similarities between consequentialism and reliabilism. A standard criticism leveled against utilitarian theories is that, if taken seriously, they would justify all sorts of unsavory actions. After all, if the only morally salient consideration is the consequences of our actions, then we are perfectly free—in 31

See Richard Feldman “The Ethics of Belief,” p. 670-77.

19 some cases even obligated—to utilize immoral means to achieve good and desirable ends. While attempts have been made, through the emphasis on rule utilitarianism, to avoid these negative consequences, I’m not convinced that utilitarianism has the resources for solving the central problem. At any rate, the nature of this criticism is instructive for understanding a potential difficulty for reliabilist theories of justification.

In short, if the pursuit of truth is the only epistemically salient consideration guiding our cognitive activities, then there exists no constraint for preventing the agent from arriving at the truth through non-virtuous means.

To explain, imagine the ambitious and desperate university student who wants to perform well on the upcoming exam, perhaps because he wants to be admitted to medical school, or because he simply wants to impress his professor. So he decides to break into the professor’s office in the middle of the night, and steal the answer key for the exam, thus providing him with the correct answers to all the questions. As a result of his efforts, the student forms a number of true beliefs regarding the subject matter. Not only that, but he’s also utilized a perfectly reliable process for forming these beliefs. And as long as he’s certain that this particular key will be used for the exam, he might even enjoy knowledge regarding this subject matter. Now certainly both reliabilists and nonreliabilists will agree that the student has acted immorally in this case. But from the epistemic standpoint, has he really done anything wrong? It seems that reliabilism lacks the resources for answering in the negative, and yet intuitively this individual is not, all things considered, an epistemically admirable agent. That is, his true belief is not a product of intellectual virtue, and so there is a negative epistemic evaluation that is forthcoming, in spite of the good ends of his efforts.

20 What this example suggests is that reliabilism, like utilitarianism, is rather limited in its scope and application. There is an element of truth in both theories, and yet they are rather susceptible to counterarguments. On my view, reliabilism is best understood as a theory of doxastic justification, and the justification of beliefs is just one aspect of epistemic analysis. But if reliabilism is treated as the only plausible theory of epistemic justification, then a very important element will be ignored, namely, the epistemic status of the person. Of course, a similar mistake is made with respect to utilitarian theories, when the narrow focus on ends and consequences often precludes respect for the rights of the individual. Above all, it is helpful to be aware of that mistake, to consider whether reliabilism might fall victim to a similar error, and to develop a modified account that is immune from such criticisms. In particular, a reliabilist theory of doxastic justification could be profitably augmented by a robustly internalist virtue epistemology.

V. What most of these examples have in common is the simple insight that facts about the individual person matter for our moral and epistemic analyses to be complete.

In the case of the issue regarding epistemic responsibility, the question becomes whether the agent has control over her belief-formation processes. If she doesn’t, then it seems that deontological claims are not altogether reasonable. As I already suggested, this insight is borrowed directly from a parallel intuition in ethics. Regarding the viability of a reliabilist theory of justification, I argued that the individual’s character and activities are relevant for determining his overall epistemic status. This conclusion was borrowed from the conviction, in response to utilitarianism, that the ends of human action are not the only morally salient consideration.

21 To conclude, if it’s true that the individual person matters for such analyses to be complete, then it stands to reason that a virtue theory, being focused on the agent and his character traits, proves fundamental to a robust account of both ethics and epistemology.

Or to put it differently, only the virtues are capable of connecting these two fields and providing the justification for the kind of cross-exploration that would prove most illuminating. In short, the fields of ethics and epistemology have more in common than is typically admitted, and contemporary philosophers would do well to pay attention to these important similarities.