Pressuring people to violate conscience

If you pressure someone to act against their deeply-set moral beliefs, then your pressure is an action which, if successful, results in:

1. the person’s changing their deeply-set moral beliefs, or

2. the person’s acting against their deeply-set moral beliefs.

Our experience of life shows that (2) is rather more likely than (1). People rarely change their deeply-set moral beliefs, but they act against them all too frequently.

But it is wrong to act against one’s moral beliefs. Moreover, acting against one’s moral beliefs is more likely to be culpable than other wrongdoings. For in other wrongdoings, there is always the possibility of being inculpable due to ignorance. But when one acts against one’s moral beliefs, that excuse isn’t available. There is still the possibility that one is insane or that fear of the pressure has taken away one’s free will, but it seems very plausible that most of the time when someone acts against their deeply-set moral beliefs, they are culpable.

Thus, if you pressure someone to act against their deeply-set moral beliefs, there is a very significant chance—bigger than 25%, it is reasonable to estimate—that if you succeed, you will do so by having gotten them to act culpably wrongly. But we should have learned from Socrates that there is nothing worse in life than culpable wrongdoing. Thus the pressure risks a greater than 25% chance of imposing a harm worse than death on the person being pressured.

There are times when it is permissible to impose on someone a 25% risk of death, but that requires very grave reasons indeed, and one should go to great lengths to avoid such an imposition if at all possible. One requires even graver reasons to pressure someone to go against their deeply-set moral beliefs, and one should go to greater lengths to avoid such an imposition.

Remark 1: Here is a kind of a case where it is easier to justify pressure. The harm in violating a mistaken conscience is two-fold: (i) doing wrong, and (ii) culpably so. But now suppose that in fact the person is objectively morally obligated to perform the action they are being pressured to. In fact, let’s suppose the following: the person has a particularly grave objective obligation to ϕ, but they mistakenly believe they have a mild or moderate obligation not to ϕ. Then we may imagine that if they ϕ, they culpably violate a moderate moral obligation, but if they refuse to ϕ, they inculpably violate a grave moral obligation. Which is better? Is it more destructive of one’s moral character to inculpably violate a grave obligation or to culpably violate a moderate one? This is not clear. So in a case like that, pressure is a lot easier to justify.

Conversely, where pressure is hardest to justify is where there is no objective moral duty for the person to perform the action they are being pressured to.

Remark 2: Does it make any difference whether the deeply-set moral beliefs are religious in nature or not? My initial thought is that it does not. In both cases, we have the grave harm of being pressured to wrongdoing, and likely culpable wrongdoing. But on reflection, there can be a difference. Our lives as persons revolve around significant interpersonal relationships. Damaging the deepest relationships between persons requires extremely strong justification. That is why, for instance, we do not (with some exceptions) require spouses to testify against each other in court. But in the fact the deepest relationship in a person’s life is their relationship with God. And to go not only against morality but against what one takes to be the will of God imposes particularly nasty damage on that relationship. Thus when the person cognizes the action they are being pressured to take as not only wrong but contrary to the will of God, the harm that befalls them in doing the action is especially grave. Note that for this harm, it is not necessary that the action be contrary to the will of God—it is enough that the agent believes that it is.

I mean the argument in the previous paragraph to depend on the fact that the person really is in a relationship with God, and in particular that God really exists. I am not talking of the merely subjective harm of thinking that an imaginary relationship is harmed. The extent to which that argument can be extended to people whose religion is non-theistic takes thought. One might hope that these people are still having a relationship with God in and through their religion, and then a version of the point may well apply.