Paul Boswell
  • Home
  • CV
  • Research
  • Teaching
  • Blog

Chicken Pull is Not Good Evidence of Fundamental Moral Disagreement

7/14/2017

2 Comments

 
Everyone who has studied with Allan Gibbard knows about chicken pull. As he tells the story, the philosopher Richard Brandt went off to the Hopi reservation in Arizona in the late 40s to study their ethical life. He found that their moral opinions were very much like ours, and where they differed it was plausibly due to different beliefs about the natural world. But he did find one important difference, which was that the Hopi did not think that animals’ pain was a reason not to hurt them. They liked to play a game called “chicken pull” in which a live chicken is buried up to its neck in sand and the players take turns trying to snatch the chicken out from the sand while riding by on horseback. When Brandt asked them whether the chicken felt pain in this game, the Hopi agreed. When he asked them whether the chicken’s pain was the same as human pain, they also agreed. But they didn’t think the fact that the game caused pain to the chicken was a reason not to play it.

Gibbard uses the example to illustrate the possibility of fundamental moral disagreement – disagreement, that is, that is not based on someone’s confusion, irrationality, or ignorance or misapprehension of some relevant naturalistic fact. On Gibbard’s telling, we and the Hopi agree on all the “plain” naturalistc matters of fact, like whether the chicken feels pain. We just fundamentally disagree on what that implies for what to do.

The possibility of fundamental moral disagreement matters to the dispute between ethical expressivists (like Gibbard) and non-naturalist realists on one side and naturalist realists on the other. Naturalists have trouble explaining how genuine fundamental moral disagreement is possible. If moral naturalism is true, then it seems that the dispute between us and the Hopi can be settled in principle by further empirical investigation. For then moral properties would be natural properties, or at least reducible to them, in which case, if we learn enough about the natural world, our theory of it should entail the correct ethical theory. But that would show the disagreement not to be fundamental after all.

But this bit of philosophical folklore always seemed to me a little too neatly cut to be the whole truth, and being a moral naturalist myself, I have a vested interest in sussing out the complications. I’m particularly interested in two questions: whether Brandt uncovered strong evidence of a cultural fundamental moral disagreement on the treatment of animals, as Gibbard usually portrays it, and whether he found strong evidence of any fundamental moral disagreement on the treatment of animals, whether it’s properly cultural or not. (Edit: To be clear, I don't think that cultural fundamental disagreement is worse for naturalists than mere interpersonal fundamental disagreement. But it's my recollection that Gibbard usually presents the case as one of fundamental disagreement between cultures, and I think it's worth getting clear on whether Brandt shows this to be the case.)

Brandt died in 1997, so there is no following up with him on the story. But we do have his 1954 anthropological work on the Hopi, Hopi Ethics. I dug it out from the library recently, and this is what I found.
​
(Page references are to that work. Brandt contrasts Hopi beliefs with those of “white Americans”. Since the American culture I am familiar with is not exclusively white, I will write of non-First Nation Americans, or NFNAs, at least when not attributing views to Brandt.)

The apparent cruelty of the Hopi towards animals made a strong impression on Brandt, especially given some of their beliefs about animals’ psychology that would tend to make them more like humans rather than less (245). And it was indeed his conclusion that the Hopi’s treatment of animals showed there to be at least one fundamental ethical disagreement between them and white Americans (246). But was he right to draw this conclusion, at least given the evidence he presents in the book?

At the beginning of the section on treatment of animals – and in contrast to what Gibbard usually reports Brandt as holding – Brandt tells us that most Hopi hold that it is wrong to make anything suffer if it has not done anything wrong, animals included. In fact, he reports most Hopi as taking it as obvious that the feelings of animals are reasons to be kind to them. That's a significant reason to think that the Hopi really do think animals' pain as a reason not to harm them, and so that we don't disagree with them on this point after all. (The Hopi may be more willing to attribute wrongdoing to animals and punish them for it than we are, but this is not clear evidence of a fundamental moral disagreement. The Hopi appear to have different beliefs about animals’ mental lives than most NFNAs today.)

He does, however, present evidence in favor of the claim that some Hopi thought that animals’ pain itself was not a reason against mistreating them. One of his informants, A, liked playing chicken pull even though he thought that “animals have pain as much as human flesh” (215). Brandt also indicates that gratuitous cruelty to animals is common among the Hopi, such as allowing children to catch and “play” with birds that usually die. “Nobody objects to this,” he quotes an informant as saying. Sometimes animals are executed during dances, and he reports that once a dance audience was amused by the botched execution of a donkey. Interestingly, a number of informants hint that they find it significant that animals cannot speak or complain. So it is possible that these Hopi believe that a being’s pain is only a reason not to harm if it complains about it. That would be in disagreement with NFNA moral belief, I think.

But Brandt does not provide incontrovertible evidence of a fundamental moral disagreement between Hopi and NFNA culture. After all, most NFNAs believe that it’s ok to kill an animal just because you want to eat it, even if it has done nothing wrong and would suffer pain thereby. Many also think that it’s ok to take pleasure in killing animals, as in hunting. Perhaps some of these people also think that animals’ pain itself does not matter morally. If that’s so then the actuality of fundamental moral disagreement is more interpersonal than intercultural, and it is misleading to illustrate it with a supposed cultural difference.

But I reckon it more likely that hunters and animal-eaters generally agree that animals’ pain is a reason not to kill them even when they are killed for sport or food, but also think it not a very strong one, or at least it is simply not one they care about very much. At least that is what I thought back when I was a meat-eater! Given that most Hopi told Brandt that they thought animal suffering mattered morally, Brandt's story gives us some reason to think that the Hopi thought of animal suffering as a reason not to harm them, albeit a weak one or one that did not motivate them. 

Put simply, a plausible alternative to the relativistic hypothesis – the thesis that there is fundamental moral disagreement between some of the Hopi and most of us NFNAs on whether all pain is a reason not to harm – is the hypothesis that the Hopi who were cruel to animals believed that it was wrong to hurt animals, but manifested the same kind of divergence between ethical ideals and actual behavior that is rampant in human societies; their divergence on this point is simply greater than you would expect among NFNAs. Brandt's interviews don't seem to me to favor one hypothesis over the other. I conclude that Brandt’s interviews don’t provide strong evidence that some among the Hopi thought that suffering itself was not a reason not to harm, nor that there is fundamental moral disagreement.
​
I’ve posted a scan of the relevant bit from Brandt’s Hopi Ethics​ here. It’s fascinating stuff. 
​
2 Comments

Moral Blindness, Cruelty, and Three Faces of Responsibility

2/16/2015

0 Comments

 
I just read an interesting and thought-provoking argument from Dana Kay Nelkin [1] to the effect that psychopaths – understood here as agents which are morally blind in a particular way – could not be cruel, no matter what they do to people. I’m worried that this argument is too cautious in its application of that term, but in order to express my worry I’ll need to first talk about responsibility generally.

I’ve always thought that there are three kinds of responsibility discussed in Gary Watson’s seminal “Two Faces of Responsibility” [2]: the attributive kind, the aretaic kind, and accountability. Watson yokes the first two together, and I wish he had fleshed out the relation between them.

Attributability is a matter not of attributing properties like blame- and praiseworthiness to agents, which is the usage some of the literature following Watson seems to have settled on – after all, Watson intends to argue two kinds of blame need to be distinguished – but of attributing actions to agents. My going to the grocery store reflects my aims in a way that my accidentally dropping a vase does not. Accounts of attributive responsibility differ along what is required for an action to be attributable to me: must it reflect my deep self, my practical identity, or merely be something I do for a reason? So understood attributive responsibility is not a moral notion, except in the broadest of senses, for to assign this kind of responsibility is not yet to level censure or give praise. It’s also important to note that the appropriateness of ascriptions of this kind of responsibility do not obviously require anything more than bare agency: an ability to set (some) aims and act for (some) things seen as reasons.


Read More
0 Comments

    The Blog

    Ideas too short for a paper and too long to keep to myself.

    Archives

    July 2017
    February 2015

    Categories

    All
    Ethics
    Moral Responsibility
    Virtue

    RSS Feed

© 2017 Paul Boswell.