A Stoic thesis

Combine these two rather Stoic theses:

1. No one can make the fully virtuous person worse off

2. Doing what is morally wrong always makes you worse off

and you get:

3. No one can make the fully virtuous person do what is morally wrong.

It is going to be crucial to this post that (3) includes cases of inculpably doing what is morally wrong. I myself think (1) is false, say for the that Aristotle cites, namely that severe pain makes even the virtous worse off. But nonetheless I want to defend (3).

It may be possible to first destroy a virtuous person’s virtue, and then get them to do what is morally wrong. Hitting someone on the head or brainwashing them can severely damage the psyche in a way that can remove the rational habits that constitute virtue. I do not count this a counterexample to (3), because in this case when the victim performs the wrong action, they have previously lost their virtue.

One might try to rule out the case of head injury and brainwashing by restricting (3) to culpable wrongs, but I don’t want to do that. I want to defend (3) in the case of inculpable wrongs, too.

A consequence of (3) is a fairly strong source incompatibilism about our action. Not only is it that neural manipulation cannot make you perform a free action, but it cannot make you perform an action. This fits well with dualism, but does not require it, because it might be that brain states that constitute acts of will have to have functional characteristics incompatible with outside control.

As a final clarification, I understand “making” as reliable, but not necessarily 100% reliable. Someone with significant free will cannot be 100% reliably made to do wrong, even if they are not virtuous. But at the same time, while a fully virtuous person cannot be reliably tempted away from right action, they might still have significant free will and be able to do wrong, so a temptation might unreliably get them to do wrong. Furthermore, I am thinking of “making” on something like a specific occasion. Thus, perhaps, if you tempt a virtuous person a million times, while restoring their brain to the pre-temptation state between temptations, by the law of large numbers you can expect them to fail at least once.

Let’s think about (3) some more.

Threats aren’t going to reliably get the fully virtuous person do the wrong thing. Sometimes, it is reasonable to bow to a threat. If someone holds a gun to your head and tells you to cover the side of your neighbor’s house with a giant smiley face graffiti, it’s reasonable to go along with it. But morality is reasonable, and where it is reasonable to bow to a threat, doing so is not only not culpable but simply not wrong. Indeed, it would typically be a failure of respect for human life to refuse to paint the graffiti when one’s life is threatened. In cases, however, where it is unreasonable to knuckle under, the fully virtuous person will reliably withstand the threat.

Physical control of another’s body or brain isn’t going to produce morally wrong action, because it doesn’t produce action at all. It is not wrong to kill someone by being pushed off a cliff on top of them, because it’s not an action to fall off a cliff. Similarly, if someone implants a remote control for one’s muscles, even if in the brain, then the resulting muscle spasms are not actions, and hence are not morally wrong actions.

Cases of omissions are interesting. It is easy to make someone fail to do what they promised, say by imprisoning them. If one thinks that such a failure counts as an inculpable wrongdoing, and if (3) is supposed to apply to omissions as well, then we have a counterexample. I do want (3) to apply to omissions. But I think that all that’s morally required by a promise is a reasonable amount of effort—where what counts as reasonable depends on the case. If you promise to come to a party but are in the hospital after a serious accident, it’s not morally required—indeed, it’s morally forbidden—that you rip the IV out of your arm and drag yourself on hands knees to the party. Indeed, (3) is a part of my reason for thinking that promises only require reasonable effort, so this is the first example where I have (3) giving us evidence for a substantive moral thesis. I think something similar is true in the case of commands, legislation and the like. You can’t ask for more than reasonable effort! Asking for more adds insult to injury. The parents whose children starve because the parents were unjustly imprisoned have not done wrong in failing to feed them.

Cases of ignorance are also interesting. If Alice is serving wine to her guests and Bob pours poison in the wine whe she isn’t looking, some might say that Alice has done wrong in poisoning her guests. Certainly, actual-result act utilitarianism implies this. But so much the worse for actual-result act utilitarianism. It is much better to say that Alice has done no wrong, as long as it was reasonable for her to have no suspicion of Bob. Cases of ignorance of through-and-through moral facts, on the other hand, are arguably incompatible with full virtue.

Where I think (3) becomes most interesting is in cases where we have a normative power over what is right or wrong for another to do. Using our normative powers, we can make someone who would otherwise have done wrong not be doing wrong. There is a story of a hasid whose house is being robbed, and when the thief is carrying his property away, the hasid yells: “I renounce my property rights.” In doing so, the hasid releases the thief from the duties of restitution, and makes it be the case that the thief is not sinning by continuing to carry the goods away.

Are there cases where we can use our normative powers to reliably make someone do wrong? Definitely. You can know that someone under your authority will very likely refuse to follow a certain command, and you can nonetheless issue the command. But this is obviously a case of someone who is lacking full virtue.

I think the best bet for using our normative powers to reliably make someone perfectly virtuous do wrong is when our exercise of normative powers creates a duty but does so in a way that the perfectly virtuous person does not know about. For instance, one might command the fully virtuous person in circumstances where they will likely not hear the command. Or one might pass legislation that they won’t know about. There are two ways to defend (3) in these cases. The first is to have a communication condition on commands and legislation—they are only morally binding when person subject to them either is informed about them or ought to be informed about them. The second is to say that all that’s morally required is that one make a reasonable effort to obey commands and laws in general, not that one make a reasonable effort to obey each specific command or law (since if one doesn’t know about a command or law, one doesn’t need to make a reasonable effort to obey it). I somewhat prefer the first option of a communication condition—the vicious lawbreaker does wrong in disobeying a specific law, and not just law in general (though according to James 2:10, they are also doing wrong in disobeying law in general).

In any case, I think (3) puts some significant constraints on the shape of moral obligation and the nature of action, but these constraints seem defensible. Though maybe I am failing to notice some better counterexample.

Existing and existing at a time

If we accept growing block or eternalism as our theory of temporal reality, we have to make a distinction between existing simpliciter (i.e., being in the domain of unrestricted quantifiers) and existing-at-a-time (including tensed existence at the present). To exist at time t is not the same as its being the case at t that one exists simpliciter.

Suppose, for instance, closed-future growing block. Then we can say the following about Bucephalus (circa 355 BC–326 BC):

1. In 330 BC: Bucephalus exists-in-330-BC.

2. In 330 BC: Bucephalus exists simpliciter.

3. In 2025: Bucephalus exists simpliciter.

4. In 2025: It’s not the case that Bucephalus exists-in-2025.

5. In 3000 BC: Bucephalus does not exist simpliciter.

6. In 3000 BC: Bucephalus exists-in-330-BC.

Existence-at-a-time is not really existence—it is just spatiotemporal locatedness. (Of course, we have a grounding problem about how on closed-future growing block facts about the future are grounded, but bracket that.)

Now, on both growing block and eternalism, if something exists-now it exists simpliciter. Could one have a theory on which this inference is denied?

Perhaps Platonism denies it. Only timeless and unchanging things really are. Changing things in time become rather than really are. Similarly, it is said that God said to St Catherine of Siena: “I am he who is and you are she who is not.”

But is there a theory of time on which the inference is denied? I once explored a version of B-theory like that. Now I want to consider a version of A-theory like that.

Consider pastism, on which to exist simpliciter is to exist pastly, and take a version of pastism on which there are moments of time (probably the best version of pastism on offer is one where there are no moments). Suppose t₁ is the first moment of Bucephalus’ life. Then on pastism, at t₁ Bucephalus doesn’t exist, but Bucephalus exists-at-t₁. Is this coherent? It does have this odd consequence. Suppose t₁ is also the last moment of time (so Bucephalus exists at exactly one moment). Then Bucephalus exists-at-t₁, but it is never the case that Bucephalus exists simpliciter. Still, it’s not clear that a logical contradiction has occurred.

Nonetheless, it does seem absurd to suppose that something exists-now but doesn’t exist, even if it’s not strictly contradictory.

Presentism and B-theory

It’s common to say that presentism entails the A-theory. But that’s not so clear. Suppose that time can pass in the absence of change. Now imagine a world of with a beginning or an end of time, objects, but no change, no temporal parts, and no events except ones that last for all time. In that world, we automatically have a kind of presentism: all the objects and events that exist always exist presently. Yet a B-theorist could accept the possibility of such a world, too: the world need not have a distinguished present moment of time. Thus, a B-theorist could say that A-theory is impossible (say, because of McTaggart’s dubious arguments) but presentism is possible—though contingently false.

We obviously don’t live in such a world. Though Parmenides may have thought he did.

Theism, pantheism, panentheism and cosmopsychism

If God didn’t create anything, pantheism (everything is God), panetheism (everything is in God or is God) and cosmopsychism (the whole of reality is conscious) would be true. And it’s possible for God not to create anything.

Some odd theories of temporal reality, with eschatological applications

The three major theories of temporal reality are presentism (reality includes only the present), growing block (reality includes the present and past) and eternalism (reality includes past, present and future).

A recent option that has been considered is thick presentism on which reality includes a short segment of time including the present. This lets one have some of the intuitive advantages of presentism (dinosaurs and Martian settlements don’t exist) while at the same time neatly solving the problem of diachronic causation. Moreover, it raises an interesting explanatory problem: why does our world have the kind of temporal reality it does.

I think that if thick presentism is metaphysically possible, likely so are a number of other views:

1. Very thick presentism

2. Time-variable thickness thick presentism

3. Growing block

4. Space-variable thickness thick presentism

5. Swiss-cheese temporal reality.

On very thick presentism, the band of reality in thick presentism becomes extremely thick, say a million years. For there seems to be no compelling reason why the band of reality posited by thick presentists would have to be thin.

On the time-variable thick presentism, we have a thick presentism where the thickness varies with time. This is likely something that the thick presentist has to countenance. For, plausibly, some moment within the thick present has to be distinguished as “very present” to avoid violating the law of non-contradictions (since objects will have contradictory properties within the thick present). Suppose that that moment happens to be at the middle of the thick present. Then when the very present gets closer and closer to the beginning or end of time, the band of reality must get thinner and thinner. Or suppose the moment happens to be at the end of the thick present (I think that may be the better theory). Then when the very present gets closer to the beginning of time, the band of reality gets thinner and thinner. We also get time-variable thick presentism by applying patchwork principles to recombine worlds with thick presentisms of different thicknesses.

Growing-block with a finite past is just a time-variable thickness thick presentism where the very present is at the end of the thick present and the thickness of the thick present at t is equal to the duration from the beginning of time to t. And if we allow it with a finite past, why not with an infinite one—assuming an infinite past is possible?

Applying patchwork principles to thick presentisms with different thicknesses, we can get a space-variable thick presentism—here, the present may be ten minutes thick, but there it may be ten years thick.

Once we allow that, why not go all the way and allow a swiss-cheese temporal reality, where at any given time various chunks of the four-dimensional manifold are included or left out in a pretty arbitrary fashion (perhaps subject to some restrictions to make causation work)?

Now, here’s a fun theological speculation. Some thinkers are worried about eternalism and growing block on theological grounds: they worry that these theories imply that horrendously evil events like the Holocaust will eternally be a part of reality, and that this is inappropriate. But once we have expanded the range of options as we have, we can have some interesting theological theories.

For instance, perhaps, growing block is true between now and the Second Coming. Then at the Second Coming the band of reality gets very thin, so that after the Second Coming, the band of reality includes only the times from the Second Coming to the then-present. We can think of this as giving a surprising reading of the “Behond, I make all things new” of Revelation 21:5—the past events and object suddenly get wiped out of reality. Or, as a variant, perhaps partial eternalism becomes true after the Second Coming: reality now includes all times from the Second Coming on.

But one may worry that that wipes out too much—for instance, it wipes out the glory of the Cross (I am grateful to a graduate student for this worry). Very well. Then we go for a swiss cheese version where we have selective removal from reality—the Holocaust goes but the Cross stays, say.

All this has a certain resemblance to Hud Hudson’s hypertime story. But it’s different in two ways. First, it doesn’t need hypertime. Second, I am assuming here a variant of a standard presentist picture on which there are tensed truths, and the tensed truths function according to standard temporal logics. Thus, if it is true that p, it will always be true that it was true that p. What changes is what events and substances fall within the domain of restricted quantifiers—quantifiers do not commute with “at t” and other temporal operators.

For instance, on the “I make all things new” theories, right now all three of these are true:

1. There exists an x such that at 327 BC: x is a horse named “Bucephalus”

2. At 327 BC: there exists an x such that x is a horse named “Bucephalus”.

3. At 2000 AD: there exists an x such that at 327 BC: x is a horse named “Bucephalus”.

After the second coming, when the past objects and events are wiped out, we still have (b) and (c) holding, but (a) does not hold.

On a hypertime variant of “I make all things new”, once the past was wiped out, we would have none of (a)–(c).

I do not endorse any of these odd possibilities, because I am a die-hard B-theorist.

Presentism and the intrinsicness of past tensed properties

Many presentists think that objects have past-tensed properties. Thus an object that is now straight but was bent has the property of having been bent. (Some such presentists use these properties to ground facts about the past.)

But assuming for simplicity that being bent is an intrinsic property, we can argue that having been bent is an intrinsic property as well. Here’s why. If being bent doesn’t describe an object in relation to the existence, non-existence or features of any other object (assuming being bent is intrinsic), neither does having been bent. Nor is having been bent “temporally impure”—it does not describe the object in terms of anything happening at other times, since nothing can happen at other times on presentism. It does not describe the object in relation its past or future temporal slices or past or future events involving the object, since on presentism there are no past or future objects, and there are no past or future events.

But if having been bent is an intrinsic property of an object, it seems that, by a plausible patchwork principle or by intuitions about the omnipotence of God, an object could come into existence just for one instant and yet have been bent at that instant. Which is absurd.