Reflectivism: A Bridge Too Far?

The theory of desirism, a form of amoralism, evolved from a very “traditional” (or anti-traditional) origin: atheism. The catalyst was reading a book by Mitchell Silver,[1] which considered and refuted contemporary attempts to “save” God for a scientific-minded world. What I took away from the book was that we have secular ways of achieving whatever is worth saving from a belief in God. Furthermore there are independent ways of refuting the arguments for God’s existence. So when, on different grounds, I suddenly found myself doubting the existence of morality, I had Silver’s template available to build my case. And indeed, I have ever since argued that we have nonmoral (or “amoral”) ways of achieving whatever is worth saving from a belief in morality, in addition to there being arguments directly refuting the belief in it (or the arguments for it).[2] 

However, I subsequently encountered a major objection to the argument for morality’s non-existence, the so-called Companions in Guilt. The idea is that the very features of morality that the amoralist rejects are to be found in rationality as well.[3] But the amoralist would not ask us to dismiss rationality. Indeed, an amoralist ethics like desirism crucially depends on the existence of rationality. Therefore the amoralist, or at least my own desirist project fails. 

That is when amoralist I took my next, some would say fatal, step. Since I found Companions in Guilt to be persuasive, I decided to seize the bull by the horns – both of them – and reject rationality too. In effect this meant I was rejecting truth itself.[4] Without getting into the detailed argument for this heady (and wild?) claim,[5] I would here like to give a brief account of the alternative on offer. For, just as Silver offered an alternative way of getting on without God, and my ethics of desirism offers a way of getting on without morality, I also felt the need to suggest a way of getting on without rationality and truth. 

My solution for an arational or analetheist (no-truth) world is analogous to desirism for an amoral (and atheist) world. Desirism recommends, very simply, that we vet our desires prior to acting on them. Prior to encountering Companions in Guilt, I had assumed that the vetting process was none other than to apply reason in our deliberations, i.e., to rationalize our desires, i.e., to be rational, i.e., to cultivate rationality. However, this process more directly rationalized our beliefs, for it is none other than our beliefs that need to be examined for their rationality (and truth) in order to make sure our desires (or motivations) are rational. 

For example, if you want (desire, are motivated) to punish someone, the way to rationally vet this desire is to inquire into the relevant beliefs, such as your belief that the presumed thief stole your wallet. This could entail your making sure that your wallet is in fact missing. If you then discovered that it had fallen to the ground when you were getting out of your car, it would follow that your reason for wanting to punish the person was deficient. Hence that desire would, all other things equal, dissolve, and you wouldn’t (ty to) punish the person. (If you had already punished the person, you might then be motivated to apologize and make amends.) 

What I propose, in lieu of conceiving this as a rational process, is to think of it simply as reflecting on the matter. Thus, the particulars of the procedure don’t really change.[6] What changes is the attitude of presuming you are wielding an objective procedure to arrive at an objective truth. Certainly it usually feels like we are being objective and thereby determining the facts. What could be more objective than logical inference? What could it be other than true that the person did not steal your wallet? But my suggestion is to put aside such “obvious” intuitions and treat them as just feelings, that is, only as feelings, analogous to how vertigo makes you feel as if you are spinning when in fact you are sitting still.[7] 

But what really is the difference between being rational and being reflective if they involve the same procedure? What is the “cash value” of the substitution I am recommending? Just as with moralism, I believe that being rational in the full-blooded sense engenders a confidence in one’s subsequent judgments that has relative net noxious consequences.[8] The rationalist assumes that he is wielding a tool that is suitable for deciding matters of truth and falsity, and hence once he reaches a conclusion, he is in possession of the truth. The moralist is simply a special case of this, who, because of the undeniable force of his moral intuitions, assumes that he is then in possession of moral truth. The problem that arises in both cases is that the resultant convictions lead to stagnation and conflict over and above the natural desires to keep things the way one likes them and hence also resist other people or policies or institutions etc. that seek to change them. The assurance that comes from feeling one is in possession of the truth, whether factual or moral, adds strength, and even an aura of absoluteness, to one’s preferences, thereby closing the door to flexibility, critique, moderation, compromise, accommodation, etc. Rather it excites intolerance and anger and contempt and judgmentalness of all kinds. 

But what exactly is the mental state of someone who rejects truth? How could they even believe anything? For is not belief, the belief that something is true? My suggestion is that it is psychologically possible to believe things without assuming they are true. And even to believing things strongly, even without any doubt. The trick is that one also recognizes that these are indeed only psychological states, with no clear connection to the reality of facts or truths. In other words, they are on par with desires. When you want something, there is no necessity that you believe that what you want is something that is objectively good … is there? I’m not even sure that the notion of being objectively good makes sense. But even if it does, it seems obvious that someone might desire something, even desire it strongly, and yet believe it was objectively bad (like wanting to eat a lot of fatty foods, or wanting to kill someone just because they grated on your nerves, or wanting to help Jim escape even though you thought it was wrong). Just so, I think truth can be left out of the equation when you believe something. 

Nevertheless I would not want those truthless beliefs and nonmoral desires to be left unvetted. That is why I suggest reflecting on them. What does that mean exactly? It’s pretty ordinary but extensive: Think before you act, study the matter at hand, consult and discuss it with others; more broadly: seek wide experience and knowledge of the world, cultivate various skills (I would certainly recommend honing one’s ability to reason logically) and attitudes (honesty, curiosity, compassion …) and habits (listening without interrupting is high on my list), and so forth. I am confident (or call it my faith if you like) that a person who lives this kind of life will tend to behave in ways that are more beneficial (or less harmful) to self and others and society and the world (including other animals) than are the behaviors of people who believe in morality and rationality or truth.

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[1] A Plausible God: Secular Reflections on Liberal Jewish Theology (Fordham University Press, 2006).

[2] My initial book-length offering was Ethics without Morals (Routledge, 2013) and my most recent is Ethical Health (Routledge, 2025).

[3] Note that the objectionable features attach to both strands of the desirist argument. Morality is objected to for invoking categorical imperatives and objective values; but rationality presumes such things too. And moralism, which is the belief in morality and its (the belief’s) investiture in our attitudes, actions, and institutions, is objected to for having relative net noxious consequences; but rationalism too is sometimes portrayed as having negative consequences. However, Companions in Guilt typically focuses on the first issue. 

[4] This follows because I had been mixing apples and oranges in the way I put the claimed analogy. Strictly speaking rationality is analogous to moralism in that both are features of a human subject. The relevant analogy for Companions in Guilt is between morality and the logical principles or structure of the world rationality is supposed to intuit. It was only for ease of exposition that I spoke of “rationality” when what I really had in mind was those principles, and ultimately the world of facts or truths.

[5] For which see my Reason and Ethics (Routledge, 2021).

[6] The one exception would be if you specifically invoked a moral principle, such as It is wrong to steal. That would disappear from any amoral argument.

[7] You may still have to deal with them even only as feelings. For example, when you experience vertigo it’s a good idea not to stand up. Similarly I am suggesting that when you feel like punishing the person at once, it’s a good idea not to act on that until you have vetted your desire.

[8] In any kind of consequentialist assessment, it is not enough to show that something has negative consequences in order to discredit it. It must first of all have net negative consequences, since something having negative consequences might still have mainly positive consequences. But that is still not always enough, or even necessary, since the real issue is often whether something has better consequences (which might even mean less net negative ones) than any other option; hence relative net consequences.