Moral Personality: Given or Chosen?

There are many conceptions of how humans come to possess a conception of the good. I do not mean by the phrase "to possess a conception of the good" to mean something like come by an idea of what the word means, no, no this is not a theory of the development of language. What is meant by this phrase is no mere word or idea, but a set of values constitutive of one's conception of what is valuable in this life, what one's life is to be lived for. There are many conceptions of how one comes to possess such a view. Some would say that it is through indoctrination through a church or through school or parents that we are "taught" these values. Surely that is true, but it is also true to say that we are free to reject certain of these values and select others which are more practical or desirable. Some would therefore say that it is through a process of choice that we select our conception of the good, that our conception is not even really known much less possessed until we select it consciously and freely. And, it should be noted, that the possession of a conception of the good appears to evolve as we grow, thus giving further reason in support of the conscious selection model.

If one consciously selects one's concept of the good--say, in early adulthood--what then of the values imbibed through one's social role whether as a member of a family or religion, nationality or gender? Are these no longer constitutive of one's own moral identity? Has one cast these aside as irrelevant to one's ownmost conception of the good? Clearly not. In many cases these become strata, the bedrock upon which our identity is formed. Here the strata may be assumed or they may be affirmed or they may be even rejected and in rejection a new strata is thus formed. In many cases a person may bend over backwards affirming even facts about one's self and one's values which one would, from an absolute perspective, reject.

Humans are wonderful innovators, endlessly combining and recombining technologies and words, fitting together new creations to solve unique problems. And, in this very same technological fashion, a moral identity is subject to the same patterns of innovation. Here the perennial spiritual demand for a greater and more fulfilling existence forces us into greater reflection on the possibilities for innovation with regards to what we think is of value and of goodness in life. Understood in this way, it is difficult to see how a single account of how this process occurs is adequate to the phenomena. It is through a reciprocal relationship with the world that the individual comes to value the things he does. That relationship with the world is called "experience" and it cannot be performed in isolation from the world. Much talk about the "choice" of one's conception of the good appears to resemble this isolationist model of self-reflection and affirmation. Ones model of choice cannot be that of the mind as a great backward turning Cyclopean eye. Here we may wish to be careful. For the fragments of choice of one's identity are composed of the experience of the individual in a socially given context. One's family, one's religion, one's social class, one's citizenship are predetermined in this way. Yet, in spite of the givenness of these elements of one's identity, there is always a choice, whether tacit or implicit, to accept or reject a certain iteration and interpretation of the values in these materials. And yet that choice is limited by one's experience, the given materials of one's identity, and the limits of one's innovative capacities. It is also limited by the traces of experience that color our reason, making it incapable of looking with perfect transparency upon its presuppositions.

Neither should the conception of the good be construed as a mere coping mechanism or set of ideals that are easily altered. There is a distinction between choosing particular goods and choosing a conception of the good. The mere shifting of one's allegiances, whether to an employer or a spouse for instance, may not constitute a change in one's conception of the good. Here one may have a conception of the good that one is content to hold. The particular good sought and the failure to achieve it does not imply that one thereby rejects his conception of the good. Although the presence of dissatisfaction and disappointment may be an invitation to shed one's conception of the good it may equally be the case, however, that although one's conception of the good causes such anquish one cannot reasonably change it. One may have a conception of the good and yet be unable to achieve it in life. But this should not surprise us, for it has long been understood by the more sagacious amongst us that happiness and morality are not the same thing.

I wish also to say that a persons conception of the good is quite likely incomplete. By this I mean to say that it is in fundamental ways vague enough so as to be incapable of uniquely resolving all matters of conscience that it may be deployed to adjudicate. While a person may have a sufficiently detailed vision of what is good in life, there are bound to be significant gaps in what it is capable of affirming or proscribing. Placed in the right context, in other words, a person may be incapable of deciding what is the right thing.

Now I have argued that a conception of the good is partly constructed, partly given, at times congruent with one's happiness, at other times at variance with it, that it is incomplete and that it evolves in significant ways by means of an imperfectly transparent rational reflection on our own limited experience.