ethics

Why should I contribute to society?

This post is a response to a question posed in its complete format: “Aside from it being a moral duty, why should I contribute to society?”

As a reason to contribute to society, a “moral duty” represents a form of coercion which garners the absolute least that one will contribute. Referring to contributions made to society as a “moral duty” creates the perception that it’s like paying a tax. You do it because you have to.

That’s the best way to get the worst attitudes and the least value in contributions from people.

“Paying it forward” is a far better way to frame contributions to society because it serves as a reminder of how one has benefited from society and the contributions of others as part of a shared community.

Another context that can help to imbue the concept of contributing to society with motivational meaning is as a team. As members of a species, we are all members of the same “team” in the sense of our challenge to maintain survival. This perspective is why I chose the concept of a bucket brigade to illustrate the idea of working together to put out a fire.

Understanding the difference in perspective between one who feels they “should” versus feeling like one “can” will clarify the attitude we should be cultivating in society to encourage contributions back to society. When a person feels like they’re a valued member of a supportive community that enables their members to achieve their best potential, it cultivates an attitude of gratitude that prompts people to think positively of what they can do in return for their community.

Think of it like gift-giving during the holidays, where people go to great lengths to impress someone with a special gift they know will be meaningful to the recipient, versus the sentiment people demonstrate when put in as minimal an effort into their gift as they can get away with to meet an expectation from someone they don’t care about but feel an obligation to gift them something.

To do what one “should do” invites the minimum effort to meet a bar of expectations set by the lowest common denominator and is characterized in the best of terms as an apathetic form of disengagement from one’s community. Why give something to society when you don’t value it?

Conversely, when one feels closely connected to a community that has cultivated gratitude within their mindset, they want to give as much as they can afford to adequately express their appreciation for what they value receiving from their community.

To do what one can, rather than what one must, is to be motivated by a natural desire to contribute out of a spirit of reciprocity.

This is why the social contract is crucial to our health as a society and why community development is an essential mindset for leaders to adopt and cultivate within society. Community members who feel they belong to a larger dynamic and are valued for their contributions are engaged and self-motivated to do what they can to improve life for everyone else.

They understand and value the meaning of the words, “We are all in this together.”

This sentiment is the glue that will keep society from collapsing into chaos during the most troubling times.

This sentiment is the glue that has given humanity the grace to survive and prosper to such a degree that our short presence here will be as lasting into the future as hundreds of millions of years of a planet dominated by dinosaurs has been to date within a fraction of the time they existed.

When one feels connected enough to something, they have no problem going out of their way to contribute as much as they can afford because they believe their giving is its own reward. They derive pleasure and fulfilment from giving to their community. They will go to great lengths to contribute as much as possible to their society because giving transcends moral duty.

Some people will give to causes, for example, because they want receipts to lower their tax burden through the benefit of deductions.

Other people give to cancer research, for example, because they have been personally affected by the issue. Giving as much as they can afford is a way of coping with the issue by acknowledging a loss or a deeply impactful experience. Giving is rewarded by a cultivation of hope within oneself.

Many people volunteer their time in contributions to a cause because of the social connections they create and benefit from on an intangible level. Giving energizes one’s spirit through interpersonal interactions and cultivates the interconnectedness that defines a core need for the human condition.

In all self-motivated cases, one’s contributions are made without considering moral implications because those are justifications which devalue the experience.

In all cases, people give in greater abundance and more honestly of themselves when internally motivated by intangible and intrinsic benefits than by material and extrinsic ones.

Understanding why one would want to contribute to society out of an internally motivated reason is far more crucial to the value of one’s contributions than meeting an arbitrary degree of obligation.

Understanding how one has benefited from the efforts of those who came before us and how we are each linked in a centuries-long chain of humans collectively contributing to an aspirational future for all of humanity is how to convert an obligation into a desire.

When we are disconnected from our humanity and community as humans, we lose sight of the value of our contributions to an evolving whole.

Learning to appreciate our distinctive differences between individuals and celebrating those differences while embracing the uniqueness of their contributions is how we can justify giving the best of what we can to those who will come after us and allow us to be remembered as individuals who each gave our best to make their lives better.

Cultivating this community spirit of belonging is how we survive our challenges, such as those we are struggling through today. Our connection to community allows us to cope with and overcome being inundated by the toxic influences of those who lack appreciation or reverence for the sacred nature of what we collectively benefit from.

Encouraging the creation of connections between us results in a superior form of morality that organically emerges in society to endure throughout our existence on this planet more successfully.

There is no valid reason why you “should” give back to society. However, without a desire to give back to society, you have lost out on one of the most valuable sentiments a human can experience, which is core to our development as healthy humans living fulfilled lives.

Bonus Question: How do you accept the fact that no one loves you?

Learn how much more important it is to love yourself and life than to be loved.

No two people or living creatures love in the same way.

Love is not about receiving but about giving.

If you want to be loved, get yourself a dog and/or a cat, or several.

If you can love what you do each day, it can sustain you enough to allow other forms of love to make their way into your life.

Good luck.

How do you deal with the lack of a moral arbiter?

This post is a response to a question posed in its complete format: “As an atheist, how do you deal with the fact that there is no ultimate moral arbiter and that all morals are determined inter-subjectively and without an objective foundation?”

Have you taken any time to consider how, if a god existed, its morality would also be subjective to it?

If morality had an objective foundation, it would be intrinsic to the object itself. One could essentially “read” morality from within every instance deemed to bear moral implications. If morality were objective, everyone would read and identify identical moral qualities within every situation subject to moral judgments.

It would be no different than having everyone agree that the sun shines and its effect warms us. No one or authority is required to serve as an arbiter for these qualities. We know these facts to be confirmed individually from everyone’s direct experience with the sun.

For the sake of this exposition, let’s refer to those qualities of heat and light emanating from the sun as “metadata.” This description can help us draw some clear distinctions on the language we’re using to resolve discussions on objectivity as it applies to the concept of morality.

For instance, if theft were objectively determined as immoral, then the characteristics defining its morality would be immutably intrinsic to that act of theft. All forms of theft would be considered immoral without condition. It can easily be argued that the metadata ascribing immorality within the act of robbery lies within the harm done to those against whom the theft is perpetrated.

Stealing food to feed one’s family would always be consistently judged as immoral. There would be no distinction between stealing food from a starving person and stealing food from someone with such abundance that most of their food is spoiled from the lack of consumption.

One can argue that stealing food to feed one’s family is not immoral if the person one steals from still has plenty of food to feed themselves. One can say that stealing food that would end up being spoiled from lack of consumption to feed one’s family is moral.

How can both scenarios be valid if morality is objective?

If morality were objective, it would be contained within the object, but as we can see in this simple example, morality is contextual. Morality within this simple case is contingent upon the judgements of those who choose to ascribe varying degrees of value to the individual aspects of the case of stealing food.

Some may determine that stealing food, in any event, is immoral. In contrast, others may determine that stealing food to feed one’s family is an act of self-sacrifice that exposes them to a life-destroying reprisal, which represents the embodiment of morality.

If morality were objective, then it would be immutable, but how many things deemed immoral at the time of the writing of scripture have since been reconsidered irrelevant to the concept of morality?

No one balks today about wearing clothing made of mixed threads. It’s almost impossible to find any clothing that doesn’t mix threads to some degree today. Yet, this practice is no longer considered a moral violation that would anger any ultimate authority such that a reprisal would be forthcoming.

Did God change its mind? If so, how do we know, and when did that occur? By what process are we being informed by an ultimate authority of updates to morality? If morality is subject to updates, how could it be objective?

Morality can’t be objective if an ultimate authority changes its mind and renders updated decisions on what constitutes morality because they are simply conveying (if we can set aside the mechanics of that conveyance) a perspective unique to their apprehension of a situation.

Perhaps you’re still struggling to comprehend the difference between “subjective” and “objective,” and that’s why you insist morality is “objective?”

Let’s look at some definitions to help frame the explanation above:

Any situation in which an authority must intervene to render a decision to settle differences between competing perspectives cannot, by definition, be considered “objective.”

It doesn’t matter whether that authority is omniscient or not; they are still rendering a decision derived from their perspective on the issue in question.

The necessity of an authority to determine morality already renders morality a subjective construct.

Morality cannot be objective by any stretch of the imagination and, most notably, not by arguments ascribing ultimate morality to an ultimate authority on morality — mainly when that authority is not available to provide any direct input into any state requiring a moral judgment to be rendered.

Indeed, the need to render a moral judgement eviscerates the notion of an objective morality.

The appropriate context for perceiving morality is a public dialogue in which we learn to develop our moral paradigms to understand ourselves and our world more clearly. The dialogues we have on morality serve the purpose of developing compassion toward issues outside our frames of experience and help us to apply a moral paradigm to the whole of our existence as individuals and as a species struggling to achieve its potential.

The reality is that objective morality would destroy our capacity for morality because an essential learning process for developing one’s humanity is reduced to rote memorization. In contrast, the human capacity for creativity necessitates means by which moral loopholes can be exploited.

We see this behaviour routinely exhibited by those who claim to be representatives of moral authority betraying their self-appointed statures in society.

America’s Hate Preachers (TV Movie 2016) ⭐ 5.9 | Documentary

Why are there so many degenerates in this world who lack a moral compass?

This post is a response to a question posed in its full format as follows: “Why are there so many degenerates in this world that lack a moral compass, namely in 1st world countries where most learn this by the family that raised them, school, sports, being in public, etc?”

The problem with this question is that it’s impossible to construct an objective answer to address its core concern. This question is more of an emotionally driven complaint than a question.

The reason is that it’s built upon subjectively defined presumptions like “degenerate” and “morality.” Neither of these concepts has any objective metric to identify differing degrees of degeneration or morality between any two random people.

Adding to the subjective complexity, universally accepted standards for the definitions of these terms do not exist.

What can be deemed “degenerate” to one person is celebratory to another. What is viewed as “morality” to one person is heinous to another.

Making matters even more complicated is that a word like “degenerate” constitutes a value judgment. Regarding its use, what that person views as “degenerate” is already a visceral rejection of the object of their judgment. There is no wiggle room for the interpretation of an individual’s value. No description of the specifics of the behaviour in question leads to the value judgment of “degenerate” because “lacking a moral compass” is just as subjective a judgment as “degenerate.”

This question is an example of circular reasoning permitting no room for objective examination nor any means by which one can identify alternative conclusions to the objects of such visceral criticism.

The only way to address this question is to search one’s memories for emotional reactions one may have had that can dredge up conclusions about different experiences one can align with the question based on a similar degree of emotional intensity governing one’s biased findings.

This style of generic language relies upon the subjectively defined feelings of others to function more like a dog whistle than a critical analysis of the issues in question.

This kind of “loose language” is a breeding ground for bigotry to evolve in a landscape characterized by pure emotion and which lacks grounding in any shared physical reality.

For example, if someone were to mug someone else and witnesses talked about the event while sharing similar emotions and a similar view of the event in question, they could quickly dredge up a similar degree of emotional intensity to this question. Their views would be predicated upon a shared experience, while their particular reactions to the event would be grounded in a shared physical reality.

In the case of this question, that shared reality exists only within the realm of individual imagination and dredged-up memories of different events. Here’s a generic dialogue of an imaginary sharing of emotional intensity to highlight this dynamic:

First Person: “I was supremely pissed at this one thing this one person did. Be as angry as I am about this thing you didn’t experience.”

Second Person: “I didn’t experience what you experienced but let me tell you, I also got supremely pissed about this other thing that you didn’t experience, but because we’re both supremely pissed, we share a common ground of agreement.”

First Person: “So, you agree that we both have good reason to be supremely pissed to the point of sharing a mutual hatred for something?”

Second Person: “Yes. We both hate something very much.”

First Person: “What do we hate together?”

Second Person: “How about that thing over there? It’s pissing me off right now that I’m in a sour mood.”

First Person: “I agree. Let’s both hate that thing. That way, we can forget what we hated separately and find camaraderie in a shared hatred for something else.”

This dynamic is how bigotry spreads throughout a population to function like a transmissible disease.

This is why language choices are crucial for objectively apprehending the realities we react to.

Allowing another person’s subjective responses to dictate one’s attitudes toward a subject abdicates their free will and subordinates their opinions to whoever demonstrates the most significant force of personality.

This is the process by which identity politics emerges.

This is precisely the dynamic that Donald Trump has built his political collateral upon.

It is a means by which critical thinking is killed, and people like Rupert Murdoch capitalize on it as a vehicle for personal enrichment at the expense of the social contract.

This is why we have “so many degenerates in this world who lack a moral compass.”

Why does morality exist independently of human opinion?

Why does morality exist independently of human opinion?

This post is a response to the question posted on Quora as written above.

Morality IS “human opinion.”

Many differences exist between opinions on morality and on practically everything else people have opinions on — which makes opinions on morality somewhat unique in how they are perceived.

People generally do not equate a moral opinion on murder, for example, with an opinion on a fashion accessory.

Part of the problem is that it is the cultivated opinions of religious folk to believe morality is an objectively established standard of conduct determined by an invisible authority. If the claim of objective jurisdiction to develop and institute a moral framework existed, morality would essentially be identical and unchanging over time. That’s not the case for anyone who has made even a tiny effort to understand people or human history.

The most significant problem with establishing a universal acceptance of a moral opinion is that no one ever receives direct confirmation from an unassailable authority governing judgment over any specific behaviour. Complicating matters further are the subjectively supported morals of believers who do not share a consistent moral framework — even though religious institutions do their best to homogenize morality among their flocks.

Institutions that once endorsed slavery and have moved on to repudiating it cannot, without justified criticisms, claim to receive their moral framework from an omniscient entity.

This and all the many other changes made to institutional policies regarding morality throughout the centuries have eroded religious claims of authority in moral matters. Making things worse for them has been allowing their credibility to be assaulted by many heinous scandals, such as the institutional endorsements for victimizing countless children through sexual predation and murder and the subsequent protections of institutional leaders guilty of immoral actions.

We, as a species and as a collection of diverse societies, all governed to some degree by the notion of morality, have undergone a tremendous number of and severity of degree in the assaults on our definitions for what constitutes morality that we are struggling to unify a fractured vision of the concept.

We can no longer trust our authorities, be they religious, political, industrial, or familial, which puts us in a quandary for resolving our moral differences as a species.

The upside is that we are turning inward to identify our internal sources of moral development.

Morality is most simply defined as an extension of empathy, but the issues it encompasses make that an oversimplification. At best, empathy is merely a compass guiding actions that many hope serve to achieve moral outcomes. Some will define morality within a self-serving context, while others consider self-sacrifice an embodiment of morality. Neither is necessary to achieve some form of widely acceptable definition of morality.

We can grasp a history of morality from academia, giving us context and perspective on what we have learned about morality. That approach leads us down deep and convoluted rabbit holes of (arguable) “subclassifications” like ethics, conscience, integrity, standards, and principles. At the same time, simple definitions escape a universal simplicity promised by our examples of failing leadership because morality is itself nuanced, multifaceted, and contextual.

We may never transcend subjectivity within the context of our interpretation of morality, but that’s a feature, not a bug.

Morality as an opinion forces us to share the diversity in our views, and that’s a superior form of morality to any authoritatively imposed dogma because we must each learn to develop our apprehensions of morality to learn how to better succeed in living together under a shared social contract to achieve a peaceful and prosperous co-existence.

We’ve seen enough artificially imposed forms of morality claiming objectivity as an unassailable standard for uniting people to know it’s a fraudulent approach to morality that invariably fails us as much as we fail to adhere to universally defined, generic, and external imperatives.

To accept morality as human opinion puts us in a position to define human character along a spectrum of universally acceptable, unacceptable, and inspiring behaviours that can adapt to an ever-changing landscape.

Morality may be more messy to manage as an opinion. Still, like the principle of a democracy, it’s the only form that can maintain coherence within the context of longevity.

What do you think of a person who dismisses what you believe to be true?

I don’t.

I also don’t put much faith in my beliefs. I prefer facts and knowledge. If people dismiss them, they’re more likely to be trapped by their beliefs.

It’s their choice but also my choice to avoid dealing with people who dismiss facts in favour of whatever beliefs they may hold.

I think much more highly of a person who does not adhere to beliefs and of people who process facts in ways that contribute to our shared knowledge of a subject.

I am often happier when someone offers a rational response that increases my knowledge of a subject than if someone responds with beliefs to facts I may have provided. My goal is always to expand my knowledge rather than convince others to believe as I may. I prefer to transcend my beliefs with knowledge because that’s what I value most.

A lot of dialogue between people suffers because people conflate facts and beliefs. I think beliefs create barriers between people and kill one’s learning ability.

I think beliefs are egotistical and responsible for most, if not all, conflicts between people, but I’m willing to think otherwise if people can offer facts to contradict this belief.

I have otherwise lost almost all my tolerance for people who entrench themselves in beliefs they feel compelled to impose upon others.

I feel similarly to people who respond to facts by dismissing them. They’re not worth my time, nor do I care if that’s what they choose for themselves.

I am far more interested in engaging with people who offer facts than I am in engaging with beliefs.

To return to my first sentence, I have no thoughts about my beliefs being dismissed because I don’t value beliefs due to being skeptical of all beliefs. I also know that most people I encounter tend to favour beliefs over facts.

It’s like I don’t pay much heed to religious people or their beliefs until I find myself dealing with any specific one of them. I also don’t use much cognitive energy thinking about them as people when they express their beliefs because that would make me guilty of wallowing in my own beliefs.

People are entitled to their beliefs, and a big part of life is learning how to cope with the beliefs they hold.

“There but for the grace of God go I.”

I am amused that I can often quote religious references as an atheist, and that tells me how deeply penetrating beliefs can be.

It’s why I don’t trust beliefs.

There may be some wisdom in some beliefs, but they’re just temporary conclusions, while some have more staying power than others.

Once I’m dead, I won’t believe anything.