Does the free market corrode moral character?

The Templeton Foundation recently asked 13 leading scholars and public figures to provide their answers to this question (here).

It seems to me that the main points in the answers can be summarised (very briefly) as follows:
· Free markets are inherently good because they reflect personal choices.
· Other systems, e.g. provision of goods via political processes, tend to result in worse moral outcomes because they lack competitive disciplines and are more prone to corruption.
· The outcomes of market processes reflect (and perhaps amplify) the values that people hold. Moral decadence is not the only possible outcome.
· Participation in mutually beneficial exchange encourages trustworthy behaviour and increased trust. Markets tend to reward diligence, good judgement and prudence.
· Market incentives and competitive pressures sometimes encourage people to act imprudently and to break moral codes.
· Markets tend to undermine some traditional values.
· Markets widen our circle of empathy. As a result of globalisation people in different parts the world come to view each other as business partners and friends.

Some of these points are more valid than others, but all seem familiar. In a contribution on his blog, however, Will Wilkinson sketched out what seems to me to be a new way of thinking about some of these issues (here). My interpretation of his argument is that shifts in the moral norms that are required as the means to achieve moral ends (longevity, health, wealth, happiness etc) are inevitable as the market system finds ways to achieve these ends more effectively. The process is analogous to technological innovation, except what is involved is a shift in the socio-economic structure that is the means of achieving moral ends, rather than a change in technology. Market processes corrode traditional moral norms, but this is an integral part of moral progress.

Loyalty could be an example of a traditional norm that has become less valued in many contexts. There was a time when tribal loyalty was of the utmost importance to the survival of kith and kin, but this has become irrelevant in modern societies. With increased mobility, loyalty to particular communities and employers is probably not as important as it once was. Greater value may be placed on such characteristics as emotional intelligence or ability to adapt to different social and work environments.

However, it seems to me that the corrosion of traditional moral norms by markets cannot always be viewed as benign. For example, I doubt whether anyone ever benefits from allowing modes of thought and action characteristic of the market (e.g. strict reciprocity) to contaminate their most intimate relationships. As Jerry Muller has shown, concerns that market norms might permeate all human behaviour have been a common cause of concern about free markets over the last few centuries (previously discussed here).

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In any case, why should every real or imagined tendency toward undesirable corrosion of moral character be attributed to free markets? The obvious point that many people do not seem to recognise is that we do not have free markets. With regard to the current financial crisis, can the imprudent behaviour of major lending institutions be attributed to free markets when there has been a long history of bailouts of financial firms whose failure could possibly have threatened confidence in the financial system? Can the short-termism associated with senior executive remuneration packages be attributed to free markets without considering the effects of tax considerations on the way these packages have been structured?

Is our inner nature good?

Abraham Maslow suggested that humans have an inner nature or core which is good. According to Maslow this inner core is “potentiality, but not final actualization”. He argued that in principle our inner core can easily self-actualize, but this rarely happens in practice due to the many human diminution forces including fear of self-actualization and the limiting belief in society that human nature is evil (“Toward a Psychology of Being”, 1968, chapter 14).

The view that humans have inherent potentialities that are good has a long history. For example, Aristotle argued that humans have inherent potentialities that it is in their nature to develop. He suggests, however, that for most people the virtues remain undeveloped unless they are actively cultivated:

“Now some think that we are made good by nature, others by habituation, others by teaching. Nature's part evidently does not depend on us, but as a result of some divine causes is present in those who are truly fortunate; while argument and teaching, we may suspect, are not powerful with all men, but the soul of the student must first have been cultivated by means of habits for noble joy and noble hatred, like earth which is to nourish the seed” (“Nicomachean Ethics”, Book x: 9).

J.S. Mill made it clear that he didn’t think there was more than a mere germ of good in human nature:

“Allowing everything to be an instinct which anybody has ever asserted to be one, it remains true that nearly every respectable attribute of humanity is the result not of instinct, but of a victory over instinct; and that there is hardly anything valuable in the natural man except capacities - a whole world of possibilities, all of them dependent upon eminently artificial discipline for being realised” (“On Nature”, 1874).

Over a century before, David Hume presented a much more positive view of the relationship between morality and the inner nature of humans:

“Take any action allowed to be vicious: Wilful murder, for instance. Examine it in all lights, and see if you can find that matter of fact, or real existence, which you call vice. In which-ever way you take it, you find only certain passions, motives, volitions and thoughts. There is no other matter of fact in the case. The vice entirely escapes you, as long as you consider the object. You never can find it, till you turn your reflection into your own breast, and find a sentiment of disapprobation, which arises in you, towards this action. Here is a matter of fact; but it is the object of feeling, not of reason. It lies in yourself, not in the object. So that when you pronounce any action or character to be vicious, you mean nothing, but that from the constitution of your nature you have a feeling or sentiment of blame from the contemplation of it”. (“A Treatise of Human Nature”, 1739, III, I, i).

Hume’s view of the matter has received a considerable amount of support in recent years from psychological research (e.g. observing affective reactions to stories involving harmless taboo violations even though people had difficulty defending their moral judgments), neuroscientific evidence of emotional involvement in moral judgments, and studies that suggest that non-human primates and human have some similar moral instincts.

This evidence supports the social intuitionist view of Jonathan Haidt and Fredrik Bjorklund that moral beliefs and motivations come from a small set of intuitions that evolution has prepared the human brain to develop and that these intuitions then enable and constrain the social construction of virtues and values. This means that children have a preparedness to acquire certain kinds of moral knowledge and a resistance to acquiring other kinds (here).

Our instinctive morals don’t necessarily provide us with good guidance about how to behave towards strangers in the modern world because they evolved to protect self, kin and clan rather than to enable us to obtain the benefits of specialization and trade. I have previously suggested, following Hayek’s view, that our instinctive morals often cause people to argue for government intervention that gets in the way of the mutually beneficial exchanges among strangers that are necessary for human flourishing (here).

Nevertheless, Mill went much too far in asserting that nearly every respectable attribute of humanity is the result of victory over instinct. It seems to me that Maslow was much closer to the truth in asserting that the inner nature of humans is good.

Is there a positive intention behind every behaviour?

I hope that by the time I finish writing this piece I will have made up my mind whether I think there is a positive intention behind every behaviour. I can accept that the ultimate end of human action is nearly always the satisfaction of some desire of the acting person, but it seems to me that lurking behind some behaviours – for example, some self-destructive behaviours – there is probably a physiological problem of some kind rather than a positive intention.

Before going further I should acknowledge that the intention of NLP practitioners in suggesting that there is a positive intention behind every behaviour is to get people to “try on” this proposition to see whether it is a helpful way of thinking and perceiving. If a person can find a positive intention behind some unwanted behaviour (e.g. a phobia or an addiction) this might set them free to resolve the problem that they are experiencing.

Robert Dilts argues that the proposition that there is a positive intention behind every behaviour is an epistemological presupposition (here). What he means by this is that it has an epistemological status like that of the fundamental concepts of Euclidian geometry – it can’t be proved or disproved. He demonstrates that it is an implication of two fundamental epistemological presuppositions: “the map is not the territory” (human perceptions of reality are not reality); and “life and mind are systemic processes” (they are based on self-organizing principles and naturally seek optimal states of balance or homeostasis. These presuppositions imply that:
“People make the best choices available to them given the possibilities and capabilities that they perceive to be accessible within their model of the world. Any behavior no matter how evil, crazy or bizarre it seems is the best choice available to that person at that point in time” (here).

I have no problem in accepting Dilts’ interpretation of the idea that there is “a positive intention behind every behaviour”. It seems to allow that a person could be making the best choices available even if they display bizarre behaviour that is ultimately attributable to physiological rather psychological causes. An example that comes to mind is Antonio Damasio’s discussion of Phineas Gage, who suffered an horrific brain injury in 1848. Prior to this injury, Gage had a strong sense of personal and social responsibility, but afterwards he no longer showed respect for social convention or concern about his own future (“Descartes Error”, 1994: 10 – 12).

It seems to me that there is a lot to be said for considering what lies behind choices that result in unwanted behaviours. It makes sense that the possibilities and capabilities that people perceive to be accessible are often distorted by hidden frames of meaning about themselves, their personal powers, their relationships with others, time (their past performance and expectations) or about the way the world works.

When I began writing this piece I thought I might end up considering the question of whether the inner nature or core of humans is good. By following Dilts’ approach I avoided this, even though I think our answers to this question are an important component of the models of the world that we carry around with us. I will consider different views on this question in my next post.

Should the virtues be revered?

When people are conscious that they are doing good they sometimes feel that they are serving something larger than themselves. It has been suggested that this feeling of elevation is necessary to have a meaningful life. For example, Martin Seligman defines a “meaningful life” as “using your signature strengths and virtues in the service of something much larger than you are” (“Authentic Happiness”, 2002: 263).

Such feelings of elevation do not always have to be present for people to behave morally. As Lynn Stout has pointed out, civilized life in urban societies depends to a large extent on passive altruism – people do not generally steal, even when there is a very low probability of being caught (‘Taking conscience seriously’, in P Zak (ed), “Moral Markets”, 2008: 157). We feel elevated or inspired only when doing good involves some effort or sacrifice.

In the final chapter of his book, Seligman speculates that human history is a process that is heading ultimately towards “nothing less than omniscience, omnipotence and goodness”. He suggests that the best we can do as individuals is to be a small part of furthering this progress: “this is the door through which meaning that transcends us can enter our lives” (260).

However, it seems to me that issues relating to historicism are more relevant to people whose aim in life is to be on the winning team – history’s hastening agents – than to those who want to live a meaningful life. I find it hard to see how it could be elevating to choose to do good just in order to be on the winning team.

I think it would be better to view the impulse to serve a good purpose in challenging circumstances as the door through which meaning that transcends us can enter our lives. Seligman discusses evidence earlier in his book (chapter 8) which suggests that the concept of goodness is ubiquitous rather than relativistic. We all tend to have similar views about what constitutes goodness despite differences in our individual tastes, social conventions and religious beliefs. Six virtues are endorsed by almost all religious and philosophical traditions: wisdom and knowledge, courage, love and humanity, justice, temperance, and spirituality and transcendence.

Is it possible for meaning that transcends us to enter our lives if we do not believe that the virtues are the result of divine intervention? I don’t see why not. We can view the expression of goodness as a potential of all humans while remaining agnostic about the source of this potential. The expression of goodness may be viewed as a natural part of what it means to be human. The actualization of this potential is a transcending experience for each individual because it requires us to move beyond the consideration of personal pleasure and pain. At the same time, because of our nature, the actualization of potential is an individual experience requiring the exercise of practical wisdom – there is a universal potential, but no universal recipe for the expression of that potential.

If we view the expression of goodness as a human quality, does this mean it cannot be revered? Why not? If we feel inspired by the virtues of others and elevated by our own efforts, surely be can permit ourselves to feel reverence for the potential for good that resides within every one of us.

William Wordsworth captured something of the feeling of reverence I have in mind in a poem written in 1802:

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
(Source: here)