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What is Conscience?
Should it always be obeyed?
(Please
note: These are rough notes for a lecture, mostly taken from the relevant
sections of Philosophy and Ethics and should not be reproduced or used verbatim.)
Conscience is the inner conviction that something is
right or wrong. It is found in both secular and religious ethical discussions.
In a religious discussion, it may be thought of as the
‘voice of God’, speaking within the individual, and even as a direct revelation
from God. In the New Testament (Romans
2:15) conscience is described as the witness
to the ‘requirements of the law’ being written on the heart. The implication of
this would seem to be that, through following their conscience, everyone can
follow the requirements of the divine law.
In a secular discussion, it is more likely to be seen as
the natural way in which people are able to apply their general moral principles
to the particular situations in which they find themselves.
Questions to consider…
- Is it always right to follow one’s
conscience?
- Why do people who follow their conscience
sometimes differ in what they believe to be right?
- Which comes first, your principles or your
conscience? (If you did not have any principles, could you have a
conscience?)
Conscience as a source of moral authority may be linked
to the emotions:
Rousseau held that there were two
primitive emotions, one of which was a natural repugnance at the sufferings of
others. He believed that this moral sense was innate, and was only masked by
social convention.
Similarly Frances Hutcheson
believed that people had a natural sense of benevolence, and that this - rather
than reason - was the source of morality.
In other words, it is because we
feel that something is right or wrong (rather than just be convinced in the
course of an ethical argument) that we also feel the force of regret when we do
wrong, and therefore that we develop a
conscience.
In order to be able to operate, conscience
seems to need two things:
freedom
knowledge of the good.
Let’s take each of
these:
Freedom
Unless you are free to do something, it
makes no sense for your conscience to tell you to do or not to do it.
‘Should implies can.’
‘Morality implies freedom.’
If you are not free to choose to act in a way that
reflects your wishes and intentions, then you cannot be blamed for what happens,
since praise and blame – and the whole array of moral arguments that stem from
them – are based on the assumption that individuals are free to choose how they
act, and to take responsibility for what they do.
Hence, the distinction is generally made in law between
an action committed by someone who is of sound mind and someone who is certified
insane. Being insane is regarded in law as a mitigating circumstance – the
person is judged ill, rather than good or bad. In this case, being insane
renders moral considerations inappropriate, because the person is unable to
make a rational decision about how to behave.
In considering the issues of science and religion (see
above page 00) we examined the problems raised for religious belief by the idea
of determinism – that everything that happens is explicable in terms of the laws
of nature, and could not be other than it is. In terms of ethics, ‘Determinism’
is the view that, whether we realise it or not, we are actually determined in
all that we do by factors that our outside our control. This creates particular
problems both for the meaning of moral statements – and hence the validity of
ethics as a whole – and also for the sense of moral
obligation.
If, following Kant, we know what it is to experience a
moral demand (a ‘categorical imperative’ – see above page 00) and to judge that
something is done with a ‘good will’, that implies that we also believe that
people have a measure of freedom to choose how then act. Without freedom, moral obligation makes no
sense.
It is clear that nobody is totally free. There are three
forms of limitations – and the question we need to ask is this: Do these
limitations mean that we do not need to have a bad conscience if our action is
influenced by them?
1.
Physical limitations. There are some things that I am
physically incapable of doing. I cannot be blamed for this, and such limitations
have little ethical significance.
2.
Psychological limitations. This is more complicated. If
the science of psychology can predict choices, then – even if I sense that I am
free – I am in fact determined by my background and psychological make-up. Am I
therefore responsible for what I do?
3.
Social limitations. We may be limited by the financial,
social and political structures under which we live. Does conforming to the
norms of a society in which I have grown up justify the way I see moral
choices?
In considering the moral significance of an action, we
need to assess the degree of freedom available to the
agent.
Knowledge
Equally, conscience implies some innate
knowledge of what is ‘good’, for without that, it is difficult to see how
conscience could suggest what one should do.
So conscience plays a part in relating a
general sense of what is good (often in the form of moral rules), to the
situations in which we are free to choose what to do. But if it is a natural and
universal human phenomenon (without which you might be branded a psychopath),
what part does it play in moral decision making?
G
E Moore, in claiming that
‘good’ could not be defined, nevertheless insisted that people knew what it
meant - and that, of course, implies some innate sense or intuition.
In these and many other thinkers, a basic or innate
sense of right and wrong lies beneath subsequent logical arguments about moral
choice. In this sense, conscience becomes the starting point of morality, for
without that sense of right and wrong, moral issues and arguments would never
have arisen.
Aquinas
Aquinas sought to reconcile philosophy with
Christian teaching – and that applies to his views on
conscience as much as on other things. So what is the
Christian view?
In the New Testament, the word for conscience is syneidesis. This refers to the pain
suffered by one who goes against his or her moral principles, and positively as
having a ‘good conscience’ before God.
It is also described as the witness to the ‘requirements of the law’
being written on the heart of those who are not under the law (see Romans
2:15) - in other words, conscience acts as a guide, even
where specific moral principles are not taken into consideration.
It is also interesting to note from the same epistle (chapter 1 verses 18ff) that the wrath of
God is described as being revealed from heaven against those who go against his
moral laws, and the justification for such wrath is there is no excuse or plea
of ignorance since God’s invisible qualities of eternal power and divine nature
have been revealed in creation. The implication here is that everyone has a
conscience which can respond, even if unconsciously, to the
requirements of the divine law. In a sense this presents conscience rather as
part of a ‘natural law’ theory, in that the recognition of basic religious and
moral principles is built into the structure of the universe and human
nature.
Thus, within
Christian moral teaching, conscience is regarded as the voice
of God within the soul.
Aquinas saw the conscience as the natural ability of a
rational human being to understand the difference between right and wrong, and
to apply the most basic moral principles to particular situations. He did
recognise however that there were problems with simply leaving everyone to
follow their own moral sense – for example, a person might have the judgment
clouded by their passions, or by ignorance, or by long established habits. He
also saw what different societies had different views of what constituted right
and wrong.
Hence, although he is able to say that it is always
right to follow one’s conscience, he does recognise that people may still get
things wrong, through ignorance or through making a mistake. There were
therefore two possible ways in which that process could go
wrong:
A person might not be aware of the relevant moral
principle. In other words, for conscience to work, a person needs to have some
background information about what is considered right and wrong.
A person might know and agree to a general moral
principle, but be unaware that it applied in particular
situation.
It is therefore quite possible for a person to do what –
by any objective standard – might be considered wrong, and yet to be right in
following his or her conscience. In other words, his idea of conscience is very
much as a tool for applying already accepted moral
principles.
Notice carefully what is implied by this. Aquinas
considers conscience to be the means by individuals apply the general moral
principles that they hold. When Aquinas says it is always right to follow your
conscience, what he means is that it is always right to apply your moral
principles to each individual situation, to the best of your ability. It does
not mean that, by following conscience, one is always in the right – for if your
principles are wrong, then your conscience is going to lead you
astray.
Notice the way in which Aquinas’ thinking about
conscience reflects his general position on ethics. He believes that people need
to accept general principles, and they apply them (with the help of conscience)
to particular situations.
But is that actually how morality works? Do we always
use reason, guided by conscience, to determine what we do? In commenting on Aquinas, Copleston
makes the important point that for most people the emotions rather than reason
provide the starting point for moral choices.
Butler
Whereas Aquinas sees the conscience as the means of
applying moral principles, Joseph Butler gave conscience a rather different
role, as a guarding or controlling influence over the different aspects of human
nature. He wanted to avoid an approach to human nature that was based on egoism,
and to provide a place for conscience, recognising that people sometimes
restrain their appetites for the sake of doing what is right.
He considered that there were two very different parts
or aspects to human beings. On the one hand there were the passions and
appetites, including the affections that people have. On the other, there were
the more thoughtful aspects of benevolence towards others and conscience, as
well as self-love.
Butler argued that these various parts of the self
were ordered in a hierarchy. Thus there are situations when conscience, being
superior in the hierarchy, is able to over-rule the promptings of the appetites
or the affections. For
Butler, the moral life was a matter of getting that hierarchy
ordered in the right way. But within that hierarchy, conscience comes at the
top, because it has the additional role of sorting out the conflicting claims of
self-love and benevolence – and that balance is crucial for making moral
decisions.
In some ways,
Butler’s account of the role of conscience is
rather like Plato’s view that reason should control appetite. When a person acts
in a morally appropriate way, according to
Butler’s theory, it means that the conscience sorts
out the balance between self-love and benevolence towards others, and controls
the appetites and affections accordingly.
In a sense, you might sum up
Butler’s view by saying that a good person is someone who has
his or her priorities well sorted, with the promptings of conscience ranking
highest among them.
Note:
Clearly,
Butler’s view has the advantage of accounting for
moral dilemmas. We have to balance which part of our nature should take priority
in any situation, and that is why we may sometimes feel uncertain about what we
should do.
But are we socially conditioned (along with our
conscience)?
Is my feeling that something is right, just another
expression of what my upbringing and society have impressed on me. Is my
conscience no more than a particular expressed within myself of something much
broader?
One possibility is that all our moral views are socially and culturally conditioned.
Thus, for example, Hegel spoke of
the ‘spirit’ of each age, which determined moral as well as cultural and
aesthetic awareness. If this is merely a conscious awareness, it means that we
judge what we should do in terms of the values that are held by the society
within which we live. If, for example, we are utilitarian, we will consider the
greatest happiness for the greatest number, but the nature of that ‘happiness’
will come from the values of our society.
If, on the other hand, social values have become embedded also in our
unconscious mind, then we may experience them as the promptings of conscience.
In other words, our conscience reflects all that society has taught
us.
Freud
Conscience is closely associated with a
sense of guilt, in that we feel guilty if we go against our conscience. This was
of particular interest to Freud, who sought to give a psychological explanation for it.
He argued that, through our early
upbringing, we learn values that continue to influence our moral awareness and
our conscience later in life. He distinguished between three elements in the
mind - the ego, the id and the super-ego. At its simplest level, the
ego is the rational self, the id is the self at the level of its
physical and emotional needs, and the super-ego is the controlling,
restraining self. Clearly, conscience is an aspect of the operation of the
super-ego.
For our purposes, the importance of this
view is that it challenges the role of the conscience, and also raises questions
about our freedom.
If conscience is simply an expression of
the unconscious application of rules that we have been given in our early
childhood, then it does not qualify to be taken seriously in an ethical
discussion, since it is no more than an expression of the wishes of one’s
parents or other significant adults. It cannot be the voice of God, or the
highest element in the hierarchy of the self, but simply an unconscious return
to our ethical potty training!
But equally, if our conscience shapes our
moral decision making, and if it comes from the unconscious promptings of our
early years, then are we really free to make a moral choice at all? It could be
argued that our external rules are given by society and our internal conscience are given by our parents – and we are trapped in
the middle!
Innate or acquired?
Freud’s challenge to the traditional idea of conscience
raises a key question: is conscience innate or acquired? If it is innate, then we may expect
everyone to have a conscience, and for that conscience to operate in much the
same way in every individual. Why then are there differences in what people
think they ought to do? Clearly because the moral principles they hold are
different. But where did they get those principles? Well, they could come from
religion, or upbringing, or society in general. In other words, they could have
been acquired.
Notice however that it is the moral principles that are
acquired, not the conscience itself. The conscience appears more like a
skill than a set of rules. It is the ability to apply rules to practical
situations of moral choice. Like other skills, listening to conscience can be
developed (i.e. someone who sensitive to moral issues might be described as
having a well-developed conscience).
As a skill, it may well be innate. This is suggested by
the fact that those who appear to have absolutely no conscience at all are
regarded as psychopaths – there is something ‘wrong’ with them, then are not normal. It is normal to have a conscience of some
sort. However, its operation will depend on the moral principles or parental
rules that it applies – and these are almost certainly
acquired.
Key for both religious and secular ethics -
integrity:
Conscience is also related closely to the idea of integrity. If we do one thing whilst
believing that we should really be doing another, conscience is the vehicle of
that intuition.
There are moments when you do what you think to be
right, but feel emotionally troubled by it – perhaps because someone is going to
feel hurt or let down, and you do not like causing them pain.
At other times your emotions tell you to do something, and yet your rational self known it to be foolish.
You may even have what you might think of as an ‘old
fashioned’ conscience about some things – perhaps through what your parents have
taught you – but feel embarrassed because it does not fit with the views of your
friends, or with what you see as your lifestyle.
In all these situations you can feel torn one way or
another. And that is exactly why moral issues present problems – they are never
absolutely clear cut from every point of view or they would not be moral
dilemmas!
The ideal of conscience – especially if you follow the
views of Butler – is that it should ensure that your reason and your
emotions are in line behind what you are doing – in other words, you act out of
conviction in a way that is emotionally satisfying.
At the same time, what is being challenged is the fact
that we are not acting with integrity. Integrity implies a good conscience. Conscience may be like a thermostat,
adjusting what we feel we should do in order to bring our emotions and reason
closer into line, so that we can act with integrity.
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