All these posts are from my university studies, and are ‘as submitted’ – so they are likely to contain errors. They are mainly to show where I am progressing, and where I am going backwards. I’m happy to receive criticism, though – particularly if I have used words incorrectly (i.e. No-one would really say things in that way)
Learning happens. It happens so often, in fact, that we regularly fail to call it ‘learning’, except in the narrow field of ‘schooling’. Theories of learning aim to explain the process of how we learn; in so far as they succeed, they can be used to guide teachers towards better practice. While no one learning theory has been shown to be universal, or flawless, Constructivism, specifically the ‘Social Constructivism’ of Vygotsky (Vygotsky & Cole, 1978), provides useful insight into this learning process. His theory suggests that learning occurs through collaboration with ‘More Knowledgeable Others’ (MKOs), within a ‘Zone of Proximal Development’. This view of learning has both challenging and exciting implications for effective praxis; on this view, teachers must work towards providing: engaging, immersive and expressive teaching; a safe, supportive, and diverse social environment that includes family and community connections; holistic learning tasks, set in a ‘real world’ contexts; and predominantly dynamic, formative assessment.
Vygotsky is a Social Constructivist; while accepting Piaget’s claim that learners were actively constructing their knowledge (McInerney & McInerney, 2009, p. 53), Vygotsky did not accept Piaget’s noting of the learner as a solo explorer, constructing their knowledge through self discovery (McInerney & McInerney, 2009, p. 53). Vygotsky saw that whilst learning takes place within the mind, and skills are often practiced and mastered alone, learners were never truly ‘solo explorers’; their learning is never completely ‘individual’, but is socially mediated by ‘MKOs’, and through the use of various physical and cognitive tools, e.g. books/reading (language), equipment, rules, and strategy (Salomon & Perkins, 1998, p. 2). This ‘mediation’ begins from our earliest experiences, and continues indefinitely.
The learning process follows the same basic pattern, regardless of the age of the learner. Where a learner comes across a problem that they cannot solve alone, a ‘Zone of Proximal Development’ (ZPD) is generated (Newman, Griffin, & Cole, as cited in Hausfather, 1996). The ZPD is a theoretical construct to highlight the ‘zone’ between the knowledge and skills that a learner has already developed, and can use without assistance (the ‘Actual Development Level’), and the things the learner cannot do even with support (John-Steiner & Mahn, 1996). This ‘zone’ helps to identify current knowledge, the knowledge and skills that are as yet immature, but in potentia, and skills and knowledge that the learner is not yet ready for; it is here that there are opportunities for learning and development.
Each learner, in every domain, has a ‘ZPD (Hausfather, 1996; Vygotsky, 1997; Vygotsky & Cole, 1978). On this view, the learner is a ‘cognitive apprentice’ that is supported by ‘tools’, such as books and computers, and ‘mediators’, such as MKOs, to co-construct new knowledge, or to ‘bridge’ the gap between old knowledge used in a new situation. In Vygotsky’s learning theory, it was the role of an MKO to support the ‘cognitive apprentice’ in a learning task through their ‘ZPD’ (Vygotsky, 1997; Vygotsky & Cole, 1978); building their capacity by setting tasks that were neither too easy, or too challenging. Depending on the level of development of particular skills within the ZPD, MKOs’ support may be graduated through a series of ‘stages’, including modelling, scaffolding, fading, and coaching (Collins, 1991).
The collaborative nature of meaning-making makes learning bi-directional; despite the apparent ‘transmission’ of knowledge from the MKO to a learner, the knowledge co-created does not merely affect the learner, but also the MKO, and others. By teaching, the MKO is also learning; sometimes gaining new ‘content’ knowledge, from the learner’s experience, at other times, the learning is a deeper understanding of the subject, and knowledge of how to teach. Meaning is neither ‘transmitted’, nor ‘independent’, neither ‘nature’ or ‘nurture’; instead, it is a little of both. The learner is both shaped by, and shapes, the environment around them (Bodrova, 1997, p. 16).
Vygotsky’s theory has some challenging, but exciting implications for my teaching. The first is that, particularly in my LOTE classroom, I need to be engaging, immersive, and expressive, because Vygotsky’s theory suggests that
“…children observe conversation and […] it is the unity of perception, speech and action which leads them to make sense of situations… Children do not simply react to the words that are used but interpret the context, facial expression, and body language to understand meaning.” (Pound, 2012, p. 39)
While teaching and learning a second language, context, expression, and body language are key strategies to ‘decoding’ unfamiliar vocabulary and grammatical structures. Similarly, in my SOSE classes, it will be important to recognise the context, expression and body language of my learners who speak the same language; we sometimes need to interpret their terminology due to unfamiliar subgroup differences. This will require attending and questioning skills.
The second key implication for my teaching is that the learning environment must be a safe, supportive place, which encourages diversity and collaboration with family and community. Vygotsky’s emphasis on the social nature of learning, and the contexts in which it happens, promotes both interactive, collaborative activities at school, and strong relationship building with family and community outside of it. Firstly, encouraging, and developing the skills for group work demand the use of multiliteracies (including social/emotional literacy) and metacognition. I will have to model these multiliteracies, and, through attention to my feedback and teaching styles, must develop a space where learners feel safe and supported, by both myself, and their peers. Secondly, Vygotsky’s theory demands attention on partnerships with families and communities; learning and development are mediated by a variety of social actors, and without collaboration with, and reinforcement from, family connections, learning will not occur at the optimum level.
Similarly, while diversity in our classrooms can present challenges, it can also provide benefits in a Vygotskian framework. Vygotsky suggests that different cultures develop different mental tools and strategies (Davidson & Davidson, 1994; Vygotsky, 1997). This provides additional reasons to support multicultural awareness and cross-cultural support networks. By utilising the diversity in the classroom, additional opportunities for peer- and teacher support would be created, and strategies and ‘tools’ could be shared cross-culturally; this is seen when we consider the ‘8 Ways of Learning’ (Bangamalanha Centre via the Traditional Owners of Western New South Wales, 2011) that has been promoted to assist with Aboriginal perspectives across the curriculum. Sharing cognitive and metacognitive strategies opens these resources to all, and allows them further opportunity to internalise a range of strategies that will assist them in achieving their educational goals (Kozulin, 2003, p. 16). It also promotes recognition of the value of diversity, and respect for all.
The third key implication for my teaching is that tasks should be holistic, and based in the ‘real world’. When requiring a product of learning, whether in social sciences or in the L2, learning and assessment tasks should be holistic. This is due to the contextual nature of learning; abstraction from one field to another is not automatic. Rather than demanding demonstration of individual skill or memory of an isolated fact, teachers need to look at them in a holistic way, to embed the tasks in as ‘real-world’ a context as possible. This also connects to the activation of the students’ prior learning/knowledge, in that the use of skills and facts in new ways supports the abstraction of this learning into new areas.
Vygotsky’s emphasis on context was to bridge the gap between learners’ real world experience, and the learning done in school. As their knowledge is ‘deconstructed’ in the classroom, and new knowledge co-constructed, students develop their ability to analyse, formalise and abstract their experience to novel situations (Smagorinsky, 2013). This will be important in both LOTE and SOSE. In LOTE, there is little point in teaching young adolescents the vocabulary and constructs for discussions about advanced science, or political theory; teaching topics should be predominantly within the students’ range of experience, relevant and relatable to their lives. It is also important to avoid breaking tasks down into components; learners need to be focused on the ‘whole’ (McInerney & McInerney, 2009, p. 55). Similarly, in the study of SOSE, particularly history, it is important to bring students experiences of the world now, to see their world reflected in the world of the past. Through their experiences, they will relate, and investigate differences between then and now; they will also have the opportunity to reflect on where we can go from here, and the impact they can have in affecting the world around them. Everything they experience in their world today must be used to provide connections between their understandings, and the abstracted historical knowledge.
The other aspect of this worth mentioning relates to the idea that cultural tools do not merely shape us, but we use these tools to change our environment (Salomon & Perkins, 1998). As a LOTE teacher, I want to develop learners who find their own ‘space’ between two cultures, with due consideration of ‘correct’ language in the classroom, but also with the confidence to experiment with the modes and registers of their counterparts in the target culture. This implies a careful balance between requiring ‘school’ language, and allowing students to make the L2 ‘their own’, in conjunction with other speakers in the community.
The fourth key implication of Vygotsky’s theory for my teaching is that it implies a much more nuanced view of assessment; not only do we require knowledge of what a student can do now, but we need to know where that student is going, and what they need assistance with to get there. Tasks must be pitched at the correct level, and the appropriate level of support needs to be given. I will need to gain knowledge of my students’ capabilities very quickly, and, particularly in LOTE, be capable of providing multi-levelled tasks. Formal assessment needs to be dynamic, rather than static, and focus on the formative elements of assessment, rather than all attention on the summative elements. In all my classes, formative assessment will be paramount; regular feedback will be given to students both formally and informally. Assessment, particularly in my LOTE classes, will by as ‘dynamic’ as I can make it, with individual/paired activities that are assessed and progression that is plotted over time. This will assist me as the teacher, in knowing my students; It will assist in determining what, when, and how much assistance to provide to individuals and the class as a whole. Summative assessment is necessary, but will eventually only demonstrate what I already know about my students, and what they already know about themselves.
For Vygotsky (Vygotsky, 1997), learning was not limited to formal education; it began almost immediately after birth, and didn’t really stop until – one assumes – death. While His Social Constructivist theory, like all learning theories, has flaws, it does provide a useful conception of learning that can support praxis. The implications for teaching are at once challenging and exciting; they are also admittedly complex in practice, noting the constraints in classrooms. This difficulty, however, should not be cause for discarding the theory; striving for greater incorporation of social constructivist ideas is worthwhile for both ‘learning teaching’, and ‘teaching learning’.
Bangamalanha Centre via the Traditional Owners of Western New South Wales. (2011). 8 [Aboriginal] Ways of Learning. from http://8ways.wikispaces.com/
Bodrova, Elene. (1997). Key Concepts of Vygotsky’s Theory of Learning and Development. Journal of Early Childhood Teacher Education, 18(2), 16-22. doi: 10.1080/1090102970180205
Collins, A. (1991). Cognitive Apprenticeship: Marking Thinking Visible. American Educator, 15, 38-39.
Davidson, John, & Davidson, Frances. (1994). Vygotsky’s Developmental Theory: An Introduction: Davidson Films, Inc.
Hausfather, Samuel J. (1996). Vygotsky and schooling: Creating a social context for learning. Action in Teacher Education, 18(2), 1-10.
John-Steiner, Vera, & Mahn, Holbrook. (1996). Sociocultural approaches to learning and development: A Vygotskian framework. Educational psychologist, 31(3-4), 191-206.
Kozulin, A. (2003). Psychological Tools and Mediated Learning. In A. Kozulin, B. Gindis, V. S. Ageyev & S. M. Miller (Eds.), Vygotsky’s Educational Theory in Cultural Context. Learning in Doing: Social, Cognitive, and Computational Perspectives (pp. 15 – 38). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
McInerney, D.M., & McInerney, V. (2009). Educational Psychology: Constructing Learning: Pearson Education Australia.
Pound, Linda. (2012). How Children Learn : From Montessori to Vygosky – Educational Theories and Approaches Made Easy Retrieved from http://murdoch.eblib.com.au/patron/FullRecord.aspx?p=977676
Salomon, Gavriel, & Perkins, David N. (1998). Chapter 1: Individual and Social Aspects of Learning. Review of Research in Education, 23(1), 1-24. doi: 10.3102/0091732×023001001
Smagorinsky, Peter. (2013). What Does Vygotsky Provide for the 21st Century Language Arts Teacher? Language Arts, 90(3), 192 – 204.
Vygotsky, L.S. (1997). Interaction Between Learning and Development. In M. Gauvain & M. Cole (Eds.), Readings on the Development of Children (2nd ed.). New York: W. H. Freeman and Company.
Vygotsky, L.S., & Cole, M. (1978). MIND IN SOCIETY: Harvard University Press.
 Which, on this theory, is intimately connected with development – learning is not the same as development, but learning can result in development (Hausfather, 1996).
 Correct citation unknown; contact with the Bangamalanha Centre was attempted, but failed. Suggested citation was extrapolated from the wiki protocol page.
What kind of person do we aim to be? Persons of principle, who (aim to) uphold a set of standards, a ‘moral code’? Perhaps we aim at being someone who is sensitive to situations, with no set rules, but determining right or wrong depending on each new situation they find themselves in? This will depend on whether you think rules or principles are essential, or whether the specific facts of an individual situation has greater import, when considering whether an action is moral. This is the argument between moral principlists, and moral particularists. After a brief introduction to the problem, two key principlist positions, Kantian deontology and Utilitarianism, will be explored along with particularism to find the strengths and weaknesses of these positions. It will be shown that in spite of the strengths of principle-based theories, particularism still poses a significant challenge to them.
Principle based ethical systems claim that there are one or more true, general, and universal principles that are ontologically prior to action, and which serve as guides or directives on ethical behaviour. Without principles, they suggest, there can be no morality, for there would be no standards by which they can be determined. While they disagree on the content and structure of an ethical system, two of the most recognised principle based systems are Kantian Deontology and Utilitarianism. Each of these ethical systems provide methods of judging actions based on their observance of a general principle. They are the ‘moral reasons’ for acting in any particular case, which may be held to be a priori, known through reason alone, or known a posteriori, through experience of similar cases. Regardless of any additional features, whenever a ‘moral reason’ appears, this will always have the same moral value, moral ‘polarity’. That is, for a Kantian, false-promising will always be morally wrong; perhaps for a Utilitarian, buying expensive cars instead of donating to charity would be. They share a demand for application of a principle in each scenario one finds oneself in, though may disagree on specifics.
Particularists disagree with this principle approach. Rather than a rule being ontologically prior, a moral particularist suggests that moral reasons are particular to their context, and are ontologically prior. Rational moral judgement, under particularism, does not depend on a ‘suitable provision’ of principles. the moral reasons for an action can also be affected in polarity by their relations and wider interconnections. What might have been a ‘moral reason’ for acting in one case, may not have the same relevance, or support the same polarity in another case. While a principle of ‘don’t cause pain’ might indeed suggest a good moral reason not to hit your mother with a bokken, in another case, causing pain in this manner might be morally neutral. There are also cases whereby causing pain is the morally right action; when encountering a gunman threatening to kill a group of people, hitting the gunman’s arm with a bokken will certainly cause pain, but in that situation, it would be morally required. Perhaps an onlooker, seeing the event from a distance, may see you hit your mother with a bokken, and evaluate your action as immoral, without seeing the gun in her hand that threatened the others present; likewise, we may also retain some moral guilt for this act, despite the circumstances. What is apparent though, to a particularist moral agent fully cognisant of the context, is that the same action ‘causing pain’ has switched polarity based on a holism of reasons; it must be evaluated based on the situation, not against a general rule.
Strengths and Weaknesses of these Views
Both principlism and particularism have several strengths and weaknesses. A principle based ethical system is seen as having universals which are rationally calculable and objective. To their credit, and to the extent they match our expectations, these strengths make principle based theories very attractive. However, principle based systems are also heavily criticised for failing to factor for complexity, being too rigid in their demands, and too impartial. For its part, particularism is accused of not having the strengths of principles based morals. It does not have the capacity for universals, cannot straightforwardly guide action, and is not objective, but subjective; the very antithesis of principles based theories. However, these weaknesses can be forceful strengths: while not offering a universal, it highlights the natural complexity of human endeavour; while generally more difficult to apply, and more labour intensive, particularism can offer a more satisfying outcome through a comprehensive and sensitive consideration of the situation; and while less objective, particularism can factor for the inherent nature of human relationships. To the extent that principle based theories do not match our moral expectations, particularist ethics can. These are the key elements which will be unpacked here.
The moral directives of principlist theories submit that they are action-guiding for all moral agents, and all times, regardless of self- or other- interests. These universals are grounded for Kant, in universal reason, and for Utilitarians, in a shared capacity for pleasure and pain. This universalism offers a degree of certainty in moral judgment, and, since it is grounded on alleged shared capacities, it is universally applicable. In this realm, however, there are some differences between the principlists. For Deontological principlists, the situation, culture, and historical position one finds oneself in bears little to no influence on the morality of an action; theirs is a universal, duty- and intention- based doctrine. It is for this reason that Kant outlines the Categorical Imperative’s (CI) edict against making false promises. According to Kant, One cannot universalise a maxim that suggested false promises were morally permissible, because it is not rational, nor does it respect individual autonomy. It would remove the very institution of promising. For teleological principlists, as a consequentialist doctrine, the situation will affect the morality of an action; False promising, contra Kant, can be morally permissible if the expected positive outcome is sufficiently good, based on the Utility Principle. However, the principle will still be universalisable to any and all others in a situation that is relevantly similar; similar situation will have a similar ‘right’ action.
To a particularist, as briefly outlined previously, this view is false. Each situation is new; the features are never completely the same. While they may be small or great, the ‘[d]ifference[s], idiomaticity, singularity, exceptionality’ are the hallmarks of real life situations. The Universals, if they exist, attempt to pronounce a clear judgement, subsuming any and all particulars within a singular situation under an overarching universal principle. However, this is rarely appropriate; in all but the most banal situations, principles cannot suffice alone, and it is in banal situations that we do not have need of the guidance from a principle. Real situations don’t conform or reduce naturally to cases; principles, even by their proponents, are modified and adjusted. This leads to problems of application, discussed in the next section.
This also leads to the question of where the universals came from; under these principlist views, as mentioned, universals are known a priori through reason, or a posteriori through a shared experience of pleasure and pain. However, particularists recognise that both of these universals assume a key point; rationality and shared features rely upon particulars. Particular instantiations of rationality point to a universal shared feature, not the other way around: ‘[e]very concept originates through our equating what is unequal’. Seeing one thing as equal to another, ‘[tying] down […] a single item [that] is carried over and used to refer univocally to other items which are not identical with the original one’ serves to emphasise certain aspects, whilst hiding others. Principles force a narrow viewpoint, and miss the distinct features of particular situations, and can further exacerbate problems of power; framing issues in a specific way points to one principle, though looking at it through another lens can privilege another. Subsuming the particular can have deleterious effects on morality. At their best, principles can merely signpost possible moral reasons or relevance of situational features.
Application / Calculation of Morality
Principle based theories are often lauded for being easy to apply. There is a clear system in place for judging right from wrong. They provide of a degree of certainty about what is ‘right’ which impacts greatly on humanity; these principles are, broadly speaking, the basis of law and government, and follows the contours of a common approach to moral argument. For a Kantian Deontologist, their moral reasoning process to enable good moral decision-making consists of measuring an action against the Categorical Imperative (CI); provides an effective and simple method for determining the moral worth of an action– simply measure an action against the principle, and obtain an answer. If I want to know whether withholding information when trying to sell my car would be morally permissible, I merely need only to consider the first two formulations of the CI. Perhaps considering the first formulation, ‘act only on the maxim whereby thou canst at the same time will that it should become a universal law’, perhaps you could rationalise that, at least in the realm of car sales, withholding information is already a universal law. However, the second formulation of the CI will remove any doubt, and subjective bias; one could not be acting ‘as to treat humanity, whether in thine own person or in that of any other, in every case as an end withal, never as means only’ by the universalisation of this act, because it removes the autonomy and respect for persons which this formulation stands to guard. I would be duty-bound to give a full and honest sales pitch. Similarly, if perhaps I am a Utilitarian preparing a last Will and Testament, I may want to determine who to leave my riches to; perhaps I like the West Australian Symphony Orchestra, but I also think that UNICEF does important work worldwide. As a Utilitarian, I could calculate the moral worth of these options; all I have to determine is which would provide the ‘greatest happiness for the greatest number’. It would seem I am morally bound to willing my riches to UNICEF. These principles provide a rational defence for a specific moral judgement, by an appeal to the principle(s).
It is often this ‘calculation’ or ‘programmed response’ factor that, while supposedly making moral decisions easier, disturbs particularists. This ‘principled irresponsibility’ takes moral agency out of the equation, and ignores the real complexity of each individual situation. Real world situations are singular, not identical with one another. While it may be correct to say that they share some similar features, this ‘looking away’ from the particulars of each situation is, to a particularist, of considerable concern. As Caputo suggests, the use of principles can lead to an ‘abdication of responsibility’, leaving moral judgement to simply determine the action that ‘comes out’ of a formulaic response to inputs, and come what may. Rather than principles which create moral responses, following principles can lead to immoral outcomes. Consider the scenario often directed against Kant:
A friend of yours comes to you for help, due to being chased by an alleged murderer. Your friend is, by all accounts, innocent of any crime. Not wanting your friend to be murdered, you provide a place for them to hide, and so you know where this hiding place is located. Shortly after, the alleged murderer comes to your door and asks you where your friend is.
According to Kant’s principlism, lying is always morally wrong, so you must either refrain from saying anything, with its possible ramifications, or tell the truth, and face those consequences. This certainly does not follow common moral reasoning, and particularism offers us an explanation. Lying to someone in one situation, say, for personal gain, would likely be morally wrong; however that same action, in the case of the murderer at the door, would be morally right. The valence of lying has a moral reason in favour of performing the action. A Utilitarian would not necessarily agree with Kant on this issue, since theirs is a consequentialist doctrine, and their emphasis is on maximising the welfare of the greatest number; a Utilitarian would perhaps say it was fine to lie in that situation. However if the murderer subsequently threatened to replace his original target (your friend) with a family in the next town, whom you have never met, then Utilitarianism would also demand you give up your friend. Particularists point to the difficulty of moral application of a formula; it is never as easy as it appears because multiple different cases can appear to be relevant. Principles, even by their most ardent proponents, are modified and adjusted in application, and it is at this point, personal judgement then becomes necessary to determine which principle to apply. This can be affected by our perspective, and serve to demonstrate our own bias. It becomes possible to restate a maxim in such a way that your desired end is approved; as Caputo suggests, this can make principles become simply a means to ‘getting our way’; a ‘thinly disguised weapon of the will to power’.
However, this is not to say the particularist doctrine can, alone, fully meet the challenge of a complete theory, replete with an understanding of what the relevant moral reasons in any given situation might be. This makes application of a particularist ‘moral calculus’ difficult for individuals looking to determine their right course of action, as well as problematic for analysis of action post-event. This is a significant hurdle for particularism, which, in its current form, essentially amounts to a ‘critical theory’ of principlist ethical systems. This difficulty, however, does not suggest that we should appeal to principles, because it ethics is too difficult;
Objectivity, Subjectivity and (Im)Partiality
Objectivity is seen as very important for morality, and so is another clear strength of principle-based ethics. Both Kantian deontology and Utilitarianism suggest this as a matter of course. As discussed previously, the first formulation of the CI maintains that only actions which could be universalised can be moral. Furthermore, the second formulation of the CI ensures the absolute autonomy and respect for individuals that comes from impartial application of principle; no exceptions for yourself or anyone else. Likewise, Utilitarianism informs that all are ‘to count for one, and none more than one’. The objectivity, impartiality and egalitarianism of these theories are seen as a significant strength; it tells us that there is no provision for placing individual desires, over that of the desires of others. One’s desire to sell a car does not outweigh the desire of the buyer to purchase a car that meets their needs; nor does one’s desire for an expensive car outweigh the greater good from purchasing a good bicycle and investing the excess funds into a benevolent society. Principle based theories do not favour any one person over another, and avoids the subjective special pleading of a moral agent attempting to shirk their responsibilities.
This argument, against ‘partiality’, ‘special pleading’ and ‘backsliding’ can be a problem for particularism. Firstly, the partiality of particularism is criticised, claiming that special treatment of persons based on their relationship to you is immoral. On this view, morality requires universality, and so should be applied equally to all. However, just as the framing of an issue can lead to particular decisions on the appropriate moral principle to use, framing the issues in an alternate way can point to a problem with impartiality. A particularist viewpoint would generally disagree with the impartiality requirement at all. Consider the impartial view: If a building is burning, with your partner, and an aloof, but brilliant scientist acquaintance who has just now found a cure for some insidious disease still inside and you could only save one of them, the greatest good would demand you ignore your partner’s pleas, and save the scientist, since they would offer greater value to the whole. In the utilitarian calculus, humans are atomistic and need to be radically egalitarian; it expects us to place no value on those close to us. However, humans are not as atomistic as is assumed, and perhaps desired by principlist views; dependence and interdependence are key features of our existence. Particularist views might instead call for a partialist stance, where those who stand in particular relations are afforded a greater degree of care. Any moral system based on reference to rules and principles alone (and which thus discounts the emotions and intuitions, including empathy, as well as the proper satisfaction in doing good both immediately and habitually) is unliveable and necessarily leads either to hypocrisy or to the abandonment of morality itself.
Secondly, ‘special pleading’ suggests that the recognition of differences between cases can allow, or even promote the assumption that one has greater importance than another; almost a reversal of Kant’s CI. Principles are supposed to stop, to provide a bulwark against this sort of attitude. However, as Dancy suggests, instead of appealing to principles to allay bias in moral judgement, it rather should demand better moral judgement from moral agents. While this is as yet an insufficiently developed area in moral particularism, it is unlikely that a principle based morality would not face this same issue; as has already been demonstrated, a deontological principle can be wielded to produce any desired outcome, and likewise, with a utilitarian view – all that is required is fudging the numbers, and since these individual ‘moral calculations’ are not public, then there is no guarantee of fidelity to the situation. Dancy suggests that we implore self-critique, and while flawed, the appeal to principle cannot solve the problem either. A promising direction for improving this in the direction of particularism is the use of features of other systems, in particular, the Virtue Ethics of Aristotle.
Backsliding suggests that a lack of principles would be liable to cause a failure to meet moral obligations all too often; responsibility for action would wane. This is an interesting criticism, particularly when considering what it is to meet responsibilities under Kantian deontology. Reflect that, under the dutiful nature of Kant’s doctrine, only acts done from duty have moral worth. Our responsibilities are based on duty; compassion, generosity, and love may be fine things, but they cannot be moral things. This stands in opposition to common conception of morality; acting in a certain way from a sense of obligation does not normally inspire moral praise – in fact, in some positions, merely acting from duty can inspire moral blame, because it fails to demonstrate adequate sentiment for those other persons. The divorced parent who collects their children once a fortnight and provides financial support for their care, for the sake of duty, does not often seem to be exemplars of moral virtue; on the contrary, it is the dutiful nature of their acts which serve to make them seem etiolated. Particularists may be suggesting that the person of principle ‘has lost sight of the person among the general rules; perhaps indeed he is insufficiently aware of what the rules are for’. Backsliding, if it so consists in seeing a duty but failing to carry it out, may not always be a negative; it could be neutral. Even where it is negative, as in a case of failing in a ‘duty’ to act, other factors can provide information that modifies moral judgement; the person may lack of empathy, misunderstand the situation, inappropriately assist, or feel helpless. If we happen onto a scene where someone is filming an assault, our initial reaction might suggest that the recorder is immoral; questions may be asked about why they have failed to intervene. However, the act of recording an event like this could have greater potential value, than a failed attempt at rescuing the person – particularly where the physical conditions are seriously threatening. It may simply be that the person felt unable to intervene, and so began recording in order to provide evidence to the police. An intervening moral agent might simply have been assaulted or killed in addition to the initial victim, and so been unable to provide evidence of who committed the act, and what happened. A duty to act, under Kantian deontology, still requires a determination of what a duty consists of in any particular situation. A duty to help provides no guidance on what constitutes aid towards rescuing a person being attacked. Purely relying upon principle will not be sufficient.
This essay has provided a brief discussion of the principlist and particularist systems of ethics, in conjunction with their strengths and weaknesses. It has shown that the principlist systems, often lauded for being universal, easy to apply, and objective, and for those reasons are used in various streams of modern thought, have significant flaws; they fail to recognise the complexity in human life, they are more difficult to apply than is often suggested, and they are too impartial, and can lead to inappropriate judgements. The particularist stream of thought has been shown to conform to many of our common, pretheoretical notions of morality; an understanding of context, the inability to apply single rules, and the need for recognition of our significant dependent and interdependent relations. This approach too, has problems, which need to be dealt with more fully. What is apparent, is that there is still scope for a great deal of improvement in our ethical theory, and that this theory will need to be focused on improving judgement, rather than providing an endless list of maxims, or impersonal appeals to calculation.
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———. Moral Reasons. Oxford: Blackwell, 1993.
Dancy, Jonathan. “Moral Particularism.” In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, edited by Edward N. Zalta, 2009. http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2009/entries/moral-particularism.
Godwin, W. Enquiry Concerning Political Justice and Its Influence on Morals and Happiness. London: J. Watson, 1842. http://archive.org/details/enquiryconcernin01godwuoft.
Hinman, Lawrence M. “Nietzsche, Metaphor, and Truth.” Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 43, no. 2 (1982): 179-99.
Johnson, Robert. “Kant’s Moral Philosophy.” In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, edited by Edward N. Zalta, 2012. http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2012/entries/kant-moral/.
Kant, Immanuel. “Appendix I: On a Supposed Right to Tell Lies from Benevolent Motives.” In Kant’s Critique of Practical Reason and Other Works on the Theory of Ethics, edited London: Kongmans, Green and Col, 1889. http://oll.libertyfund.org/?option=com_staticxt&staticfile=show.php%3Ftitle=360&chapter=61936&layout=html&Itemid=27.
———. “The Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals .” In Ethical Theory: A Concise Anthology, edited by Heimir Geirsson and Margaret R. Holmgren, 113 – 30. Peterborough, Ont: Broadview Press, 2000.
Mill, J.S. Dissertations and Discussions: Political, Philosophical, and Historical. Vol. 3, Boston: William V. Spencer, 1865.
Mill, John Stuart. “Utilitarianism .” In Philosophy: The Big Questions, edited by R. J. Sample, C. W. Mills and J. P. Sterba, 383-9, 94-8. Oxford: Blackwell, 2004.
Millgram, Elijah. Ethics Done Right: Practical Reasoning as a Foundation for Moral Theory [in English]. Cambridge University Press, 2005.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. “On Truth and Lies in a Non-Moral Sense.” Translated by Daniel Breazeale. In Philosophy and Truth: Selections from Nietzsche’s Notebooks of the Early 1870s, 79 – 97. Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey: Humanities P International, Inc., 1997.
Raz, Joseph. “The Truth in Particularism.” Chap. 3 In Moral Particularism, edited by B. Hooker and M.O. Little, 48 – 78. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.
Rist, John M. Real Ethics: Reconsidering the Foundations of Morality. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004.
Shiu-Hwa Tsu, Peter “Moral Particularism.” In The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, edited, 2013 http://www.iep.utm.edu/morlpat/.
Singer, Peter. “Equality for Animals.” In Practical Ethics, edited by Peter Singer, 44-71. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979.
Slote, M. The Ethics of Care and Empathy. New York: Routledge, 2007.
Varden, Helga “Kant and Lying to the Murderer at the Door . . . One More Time: Kant’s Legal Philosophy and Lies to Murderers and Nazis.” Journal of Social Philosophy 41 no. 4 (Winter 2010): 403-21.
 For my purposes, ‘Principlist’ is someone who follows a principle-based ethical system (principlism), following the use in Peter Shiu-Hwa Tsu, “Moral Particularism,” The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy (2013 ), http://www.iep.utm.edu/morlpat/. Literature sometimes also uses the term ‘moral generalists’, as in Elijah Millgram, Ethics Done Right: Practical Reasoning as a Foundation for Moral Theory (Cambridge University Press, 2005), 178..
 Shiu-Hwa Tsu, “Moral Particularism.”
 J. Dancy, Ethics without Principles (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006).
 Kantian Deontology’s Categorical Imperative has three formulations; there are doubts about whether these three ‘formulations’ constitute a monist or pluralist principle theory. See Robert Johnson, “Kant’s Moral Philosophy,” ed. Edward N. Zalta, Summer 2012 ed., The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (2012), http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2012/entries/kant-moral/.
 Jonathan Dancy, “Moral Particularism,” ed. Edward N. Zalta, Spring 2009 ed.Ibid. (2009), http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2009/entries/moral-particularism.
 Japanese wooden sword, used for non-lethal, but still dangerous sword training.
 Perhaps bokken practice with your mother as a training partner. It is not clear that causing pain is a morally relevant or necessarily charged factor in this sort of situation.
 Or woman – no gender implicit in this usage of (hu)‘man’
 This highlights an essential difference in the values of actions – between the ‘evaluation’ and ‘guiding’ functions of an action; Joseph Raz, “The Truth in Particularism,” in Moral Particularism, ed. B. Hooker and M.O. Little (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 60.
 Immanuel Kant, “The Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals ,” in Ethical Theory: A Concise Anthology, ed. Heimir Geirsson and Margaret R. Holmgren (Peterborough, Ont: Broadview Press, 2000), 120 – 25.
 John Caputo, “Against Principles: A Sketch of an Ethics without Ethics,” in The Ethical, ed. E. Wyschogrod and G. McKenny, Blackwell Readings in Continental Philosophy (Oxford: Wiley, 2003), 171.
 “Against Principles: A Sketch of an Ethics without Ethics,” in The Ethical, ed. E. Wyschogrod and G. McKenny, Blackwell Readings in Continental Philosophy (Oxford: Wiley, 2003), 175.
 “Against Principles: A Sketch of an Ethics without Ethics,” 172.
 The consequences of which will be discussed in the section ‘Objectivity, Subjectivity and (Im)Partiality’
 Friedrich Nietzsche, “On Truth and Lies in a Non-Moral Sense,” in Philosophy and Truth: Selections from Nietzsche’s Notebooks of the Early 1870s (Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey: Humanities P International, Inc., 1997).
 Lawrence M. Hinman, “Nietzsche, Metaphor, and Truth,” Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 43, no. 2 (1982): 187, 88.
 Dancy, “Moral Particularism; Caputo, “Against Principles: A Sketch of an Ethics without Ethics,” 173,75.
 The common tendency to consider a general rule, and measure moral permissibility from it; “I promised to do the dishes, so I must do them” – the unstated ‘principled’ premise is ‘I must fulfil my promises’.
 Kant, “The Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals ,” 120.
 Irrationality aside.
 Kant, “The Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals ,” 124.
 J Bentham, An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1907), http://www.econlib.org/library/Bentham/bnthPML1.html 4 of 21, para I.1, note 6., with associated considerations, Chapter IV, para IV2-IV; John Stuart Mill, “Utilitarianism ,” in Philosophy: The Big Questions, ed. R. J. Sample, C. W. Mills, and J. P. Sterba (Oxford: Blackwell, 2004), 385-89. Whilst Mill suggests greater moral worth in the higher pleasures, than the lower ones, it is highly unlikely he would allow for higher pleasures to take greater precedence over basic needs.
 Caputo, “Against Principles: A Sketch of an Ethics without Ethics,” 172.
 J. Dancy, Moral Reasons (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 63-63.
 Caputo, “Against Principles: A Sketch of an Ethics without Ethics,” 172.
 Reformulated version of the ‘Inquiring Murderer’ case by Constant, in Immanuel Kant, “Appendix I: On a Supposed Right to Tell Lies from Benevolent Motives,” 4th revised ed., Kant’s Critique of Practical Reason and Other Works on the Theory of Ethics (London: Kongmans, Green and Col, 1889), http://oll.libertyfund.org/?option=com_staticxt&staticfile=show.php%3Ftitle=360&chapter=61936&layout=html&Itemid=27.
 This, of course, has been questioned, for example, in Helga Varden, “Kant and Lying to the Murderer at the Door . . . One More Time: Kant’s Legal Philosophy and Lies to Murderers and Nazis,” Journal of Social Philosophy 41 no. 4 (2010).However, as the author herself noted, this is not the traditional interpretation.
 Like above in the ‘false promise’ issue.
 Though a particularist would not generalise this, since there may be cases where lying for personal gain could be morally right.
 Utilitarianism is strictly impartial, as discussed in the next section
 M.W. Baron, “Kantian Ethics,” in Three Methods of Ethics: A Debate, ed. M.W. Baron, P. Pettit, and M. Slote (Oxford: Blackwell, 1997), 73.
 Caputo, “Against Principles: A Sketch of an Ethics without Ethics,” 172.
 In a broad sense: see James Bohman, “Critical Theory,” ed. Edward N. Zalta, Spring 2013 ed., The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (2013), http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/critical-theory/.
 J.S. Mill, Dissertations and Discussions: Political, Philosophical, and Historical, vol. 3 (Boston: William V. Spencer, 1865), 388; sometimes called the ‘equal consideration of interests’, pace Peter Singer, “Equality for Animals,” in Practical Ethics, ed. Peter Singer (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979), 48.
 Reconstruction of Godwin’s thought experiment W. Godwin, Enquiry Concerning Political Justice and Its Influence on Morals and Happiness, (London: J. Watson, 1842), http://archive.org/details/enquiryconcernin01godwuoft. 60.
 M. Slote, The Ethics of Care and Empathy (New York: Routledge, 2007), 21.
 John M. Rist, Real Ethics: Reconsidering the Foundations of Morality (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 120.
 Dancy, “Moral Particularism.”
 This relates to a future topic of personal interest – joining Particularism with Virtue Ethics for moral education.
 Dancy, “Moral Particularism.”
 Kant, “The Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals ,” 115; Lawrence Blum, “Against Deriving Particularity,” in Moral Particularism, ed. B. Hooker and M.O. Little (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 207.
 “Against Deriving Particularity,” 213.
 Caputo, “Against Principles: A Sketch of an Ethics without Ethics,” 179.
 Rist, Real Ethics: Reconsidering the Foundations of Morality, 121.
What is the mind, which gives humans this rich conscious experience, and how is it related to physical bodies? This ‘true nature’ of the ‘mind’ has intrigued man for centuries, and even now, with a much greater knowledge of the world, the answer still eludes those searching. Many attempts have been made to answer these existential questions, and although none have been completely successful, there are theories regarded as more plausible. One such theory is the ‘mind-body identity thesis’, a fully materialist theory which claims that all mental states are physical states. Like all theories, it has come against considerable opposition, with objections ranging from alleged contradictions of Liebniz’s law, through to problems of representation and identity. The identity thesis (arguably) has a sound response to these objections, and so offers a clear, rational, and logical theory to answer the problem of how our mind and body are connected. However, there are still some weaknesses that have not yet been recognised as successfully overcome. In this, at least, the identity thesis is not alone; there are still problems with all other alternatives. The problems faced by the identity thesis will be explored, along with its best responses. Firstly it is necessary to explain the identity thesis, and place it in the wider context of theories of mind.
The identity thesis is a fully materialist theory claiming the contingent, a posteriori proposition (Blackburn, 2008a, b, Carruthers, 1992) that all mental states and events are physical states and events (Carruthers, 1992); they are in fact referring to the same thing (Carrier & Mittelstrass, 1995). Two versions of the theory can now be identified, largely in response to objections from several competing theories which to an extent has divided Identity theorists. The ‘strong’ version of ‘type identity’ claims general types of mental states will be consistent with general types of physical (brain) states, while the ‘weak’ version, ‘token’ identity has the lesser claim that each individual mental state will correspond with an individual physical state. Lowe (2004) illustrates this ‘type/token’ distinction with the word ‘tree’, which contains 4 letter tokens, but only three letter types – t, r and e (p. 48).
There are several other contenders attempting to answer the mind-body problem; to place the identity theory among its challengers, short descriptions of the main objectors are provided here. Antithetical to the identity thesis are the various dualist theories which posit two distinct ‘pieces’ to conscious beings – a physical body and a non-physical mind. Other criticisms come from other theories with a materialist grounding, like functionalism, which ‘characterises mental states with the causal roles they play in determining how a subject behaves in different circumstances’ (Lowe, 2004, p. 45). A range of objections to the identity theory will now be discussed, along with how these objections are mitigated (Carruthers, 1992, Heil, 2004, Crane, 2003).
The first set of objections stem from alleged contradictions of Liebniz’s law; the issues of ‘certainty’, ‘privacy’ and ‘value’. The responses here show Carrier and Mittelstrass’ point that unacceptable results are found from ‘extreme’ use of this principle. (1995, p. 83).
Certainty is primarily a dualist objection which stems from Descartes (Lowe, 2004, p. 11); it is essentially that ‘I’ am unable to be ‘certain’ of any physical states, but ‘I’ am able to be certain of my experiences; therefore by Liebniz’s law, conscious experiences cannot be equal to brain states (Carruthers, 1992). However, the identity theory contends that since ‘I am certain’ is clearly intentional, this use of Liebniz’s law is fallacious (Carruthers, 1992, Carrier & Mittelstrass, 1995).
The ‘privacy’ argument claims that brain states are ‘public’ (not private), but conscious states are private, therefore conscious states are not identical to brain states. This argument has problems of its own. Carruthers (1992) notes an inherent ambiguity in this argument, since the meaning of ‘private’ can imply two different contexts; it can be understood as either a problem of ownership, or a problem of knowledge (Carruthers, 1992, pp. 139-140). If privacy is taken in context of ownership then the argument is unsound, as the premise claiming that brain states are ‘public’ is false, since only ‘I’ can own my brain states. If the context of this is taken as ‘private knowledge’ then this argument suffers from a fallacious use of Liebniz’s law, similarly to the certainty argument (Carruthers, 1992, p. 139, Taylor, 2005, p. 153, Heil, 2004, pp. 80, 85). Further, Carrier and Mittelstrass inform that the ‘privacy’ of these mental states is simply by virtue of our ‘acquaintance’ with them, and that the ‘conscious awareness’ of these mental states ‘[do] not imply knowledge’ (Carrier & Mittelstrass, 1995, p. 85).
The value argument relates to the capability of assigning ‘value’ to mental states. The argument contends that while mental ‘conscious’ states can have value, in that they can be good or bad, no brain ‘merely physical’ states are able to have a value (Carruthers, 1992, p. 40). Carruthers (1992) points out that a response will ultimately depend on the context of this objection, since it is questionable that ‘physical’ states cannot be subject to value claims. If the claim is that the physical states do not have value, because it is the intent behind the physical event, then this appears to be fallacious, since it appears to use Liebniz’s law in an intentional context.
Another category of problems faced by the identity theory are qualitative aspects of consciousness. These objections are seen by David Chalmers as constituting the ‘hard problem’ of consciousness (Heil, 2004, p. 164). Within this category, there are two main arguments: the sensory experience of colour, and ‘felt’ sensations. Both these ‘problems’ stem from subjective experience, which, as Heil (2004) notes, must be allowed for in a theory attempting ‘to make minds parts of a single reality’ (Heil, 2004, p. 87). This makes the issue of qualia to be one of difficulty, and of importance to fully document in order to make the identity theory successful.
The ‘experience’ of “what it is like” (Nagel, 2005) to see “x” colour’ is seen as a problem for the identity theory, since we have no way of knowing how someone else views a colour. We would not know what it was like for someone else to ‘see red’. Similarly, the second problem of ‘what it feels like’ is based around the subjective nature of ‘felt sensations’; that even with ‘complete knowledge’ of the physical (brain states), we would not be able to ‘know’ how it feels to have those experiences. This is often the basis for considering there must be something more than just our physical selves; however it should be noted that many of these issues are similarly problematical for dualist theories.
The identity thesis has several responses to these problems. The first relates to an apparent linguistic propositional error, in which the objectors treat sensation and visualisation experiences as a particular individual thing, or a property of the thing (Carruthers, 1992, Heil, 2004). According to Carruthers (1992), this is incorrect; since no experience has a particular colour, or a particular sensation, it is simply the way in which the mind processes visual and sensory input. This can be a particular brain state; the key is in understanding representation, which, as Crane (2003) notes, is a problem for both materialist and dualist theories (Crane, 2003). This representation issue is an ongoing one. The issue of complete knowledge, however, can be responded to by understanding that the proposition is flawed; there are two types of knowledge, factual (propositional) and practical (recognitional). Carruthers vehemently states that there is no amount of factual knowledge that can provide ability; a person must be able to apply the factual information into the appropriate field, effectively requiring the practice in having those physical states, and being able to recognise them as what they are.
The ‘qualia’ problem is related to the intentionality problem. Conscious states are seen as unique, they are intentional or representational states, whereas no ‘merely physical’ state can be intentional in its own right. Detractors invoke Liebniz’s law, to conclude that conscious states cannot be identical to brain states. This is indeed problematical for the identity thesis, since the argument is valid. However, it can be postulated that the argument may yet prove unsound, since while the intentional status of conscious states can be accepted, the soundness of the argument hinges on the acceptance of physical states intentionality. This, however, is currently unable to be answered; though again, it should be noted that no other theory (and in particular, dualist theories) have yet been able to answer this either.
Another issue for the identity thesis is spatial position; if all mental (conscious) states, like thoughts are physical states, then they must have a spatial position. The argument however claims that since conscious states are not attributed spatial positions, but brain states must have them, then conscious states cannot be identical. However, there is no real reason why they could not be, with a little more research. Carrier and Mittelstrass (1995) inform that this is simply a result from a ‘conflict between the materialist and the everyday manner of speaking’ (1995, p. 84). The current non-use of language for this purpose is not because of an implicit ‘wrong’; it is just a ‘peculiarity of everyday speech’ (Carrier & Mittelstrass, 1995, p. 84). If the possibility of attributing spatial positions to thoughts is accepted, it becomes possible to investigate the brain event which corresponds to those thoughts, and the location of those particular brain state changes, and then it would be possible to nominate this spatial position.
An interesting argument against the identity theory is Putnam’s Multiple Realizability argument, which claims that ‘all mental kinds are ‘multiply realized’ by distinct physical kinds’ (Bickle, 2008). The general view of Putnam’s claims is that it puts forward against the ‘type’ identity thesis that it is conceivable that a form of life could exist in the universe which is capable of being in a particular mental state, without being in the same physical state as the identity theorist would assume (Bickle, 2008, Heil, 2004, Lowe, 2004, Ravenscroft, 2005). The argument states that if a mental kind is multiply realizable by distinct physical kinds, then it cannot be identical to any specific physical kind – however, as the multiple realizability thesis states, all mental kinds are multiply realizable by distinct physical kind. Therefore, it follows that no mental kind is identical to any specific physical kind (Ravenscroft, 2005, Bickle, 2008). The identity theory has a number of responses to this argument; there is the option to follow Lewis (as cited in Bickle, 2008) in claiming that this does not remove the option of restricting claims to ‘domains’, since reductive physicalism has always been domain based (Bickle, 2008). Alternatively, as several theorists have done, recent successes in neuroscience can be alluded to; success from neuroscience would not be expected if there was no continuity of ‘neural mechanisms’ (Bickle, 2008). Yet we do expect some continuity across species, and have been able to apply successes from other species to humans. This neuroscience evidence suggests that ‘psychological functions are not as radically multiply realized as … suggest[ed]’ (Bickle, 2008). Shapiro (Bickle, 2008) also provides another option to overcome this problem – with the claim that a case of multiple realizability must be argued, since the ‘realizing kinds’ must ‘genuinely differ in their causally relevant properties’. If there is no difference, then there is no multiple realizability; However if there is difference, Shapiro argues that they are not the same kind, and so there is no multiple realizability (Shapiro, as cited in Bickle, 2008). In effect, the multiple realizability argument is severely weakened in its claims against the identity thesis.
The final hurdle to the identity theory is that of ‘necessary identity’. Kripke’s identity argument (Kripke, 1981, 1983) is recognised to be a very powerful argument against materialism (Skokowski, 2007). Kripke contends that ‘identity is not a relation which can hold contingently between objects’ (Kripke, 1981); all identities are necessary, even where they are found a posteriori; they only give the appearance of being contingent. This is seen as a serious problem since the identity theory attempts to identify as a contingent proposition, which, in Kripke’s view, is impossible; he calls upon identity theorists to ‘explain away’ the appearance of contingency. As Papineau (2008) acknowledges, this is hard for the materialist to do, since it does in fact seem possible that the identities of mental states and physical states could have been different (Papineau, 2008). The identity thesis has not been able to reply with a sufficiently powerful argument, but there are several responses. Carruthers (1992) argues that identity theorists must deny the ability to successfully imagine particular feelings; the imagined states are not more than qualitatively similar (Carruthers, 1992). Smart (Smart, 2011) responds that the ‘rigid designator’ in Kripke’s argument appears ‘highly contextual’, this rigid designator could both appear to match and appear to differ depending on the context in which we place it. While these do not respond fully to Kripke’s argument, they do go some way to reducing its full force.
The identity thesis is far from perfect, and this essay is by no means comprehensive; space has only allowed the coverage of a brief introduction to the identity thesis, along with a superficial discussion of the main objections to the theory. It has been shown that the essential nature of the identity thesis is that the mind and body are not distinct; this is expected to be further supported through neurological research. The many problems faced by the identity theory were discussed; while issues of apparent contradiction of Leibniz’s law appeared easily solved, and only of minor consequence; Others, like the problems of qualia and necessary identity are highly significant, and require serious attention. However, in spite of the problems it faces, the identity thesis is capable of responding to those objections, and provides a coherent and logical philosophical position which can explain, and assist scientific researchers with a research program.
Bickle, J. (2008) ‘Multiple Realizability’ in E. N. Zalta, (ed.) The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy,Stanford University, [online], available: http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2008/entries/multiple-realizability/.
Blackburn, S. (2008a) ‘necessary/contingent truths’ in The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy,Oxford University Press, [online], available: http://0-www.oxfordreference.com.prospero.murdoch.edu.au/views/ENTRY.html?subview=Main&entry=t98.e2138.
Blackburn, S. (2008b) ‘a priori/a posteriori’ in The Oxford Dictionary of Philosophy,Oxford University Press, [online], available: http://0-www.oxfordreference.com.prospero.murdoch.edu.au/views/ENTRY.html?subview=Main&entry=t98.e227.
Carrier, M. & Mittelstrass, J. (1995) Mind, brain, behavior : the mind-body problem and the philosophy of psychology, Berlin:Walter De Gruyter Inc.
Carruthers, P. (1992) ‘Mind and Brain’ in Introducing Persons: Theories and Arguments in the Philosophy of Mind,London: Routledge, 131-156.
Crane, T. (2003) The Mechanical Mind: A philosophical introduction to minds, machines and mental representation, 2nd ed., London:Routledge.
Heil, J. (2004) Philosophy of Mind: A contemporary introduction, 2nd ed., London:Routledge.
Kim, J. (2005a) ‘The identity theory of mind’ in The Oxford Companion to Philosophy,Oxford University Press, [online], available: http://0-www.oxfordreference.com.prospero.murdoch.edu.au/views/ENTRY.html?subview=Main&entry=t116.e1175.
Kim, J. (2005b) Physicalism, or Something Near Enough, Princeton:Princeton University Press.
Kripke, S. (1981) Naming and Necessity, Oxford:Blackwell.
Kripke, S. (1983) ‘Identity and Necessity’ in S. Davis, (ed.) Causal Theories of Mind: Action, Knowledge, Memory, Perception, and Reference Berlin: Walter De Gruyter Inc.
Livingston, P. M. (2004) Philosophical History and the Problem of Consciousness, New York:Cambridge University Press.
Lowe, E. J. (2004) An introduction to the philosophy of mind, Cambridge:Cambridge University Press.
Moser, P. K. & Trout, J. D., (eds.) (2005) Contemporary materialism: a reader, London:Routledge.
Nagel, T. (2005) ‘What Is It Like to Be a Bat?’ in S. Cahn, (ed.) Exploring Philosophy: An Introductory Anthology,2nd ed., Oxford University Press, [online], available:
Papineau, D. (2008) ‘Kripke’s Proof That We Are All Intuitive Dualists’, London Philosophy Papers, available: http://sas-space.sas.ac.uk/892/.
Ravenscroft, I. (2005) Philosophy of Mind: A Beginner’s Guide, New York:Oxford University Press.
Skokowski, P. (2007) ‘Is The Pain In Jane Felt Mainly In Her Brain?’, The Harvard Review of Philosophy, 15, 58-71.
Smart, J. J. C. (2011) ‘The Mind/Brain Identity Theory’ in E. N. Zalta, (ed.) The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy,Stanford University, [online], available:
Taylor, R. (2005) ‘The Mind as a Function of the Body’ in S. Cahn, (ed.) Exploring Philosophy: An Introductory Anthology,2nd ed., Oxford University Press, [online], available:
 A contingent truth is one that is not ‘necessary’; that is, it could have been different.
 a posteriori refers to the requirement for empirical experience to ascertain this knowledge, as oppsed to a priori knowledge which can be developed conceptually.
 ‘Strong’ and ‘Weak’ here are not value claims; instead they refer to a kind of purity; ‘Strong’ is the more ‘pure’ form, along with its ‘diluted’ counterpart; however this ‘dilution’ should not necessarily be considered negative.
 Leibniz’s law contends the identity of two entities implies the sameness of their properties – identity implies indiscernibility.
‘I detest what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it’
(Voltaire, as described by Beatrice Hall, 1906)
As epitomized by Voltaire’s attitude, tolerance for opposing viewpoints is a fundamental necessity for social and political participation, especially in a world increasingly connected through globalisation and technological advancement. These connections have changed the world, not always for the better; serious culture clashes have occurred and still more can be expected, where difference is seen as threatening. These threats have led a number of societies to implement restrictions on their citizens’ freedom of expression1, through strong defamation and vilification laws, and the application of censorship to a wide range of media. By highlighting these issues, it will be shown that censorship is inappropriate and ineffective, because it does not address the cause of the issues. The best way to develop our societies, foster community cohesion and tolerance is through education, and the encouragement for all to participate in civic life, with the widest possible freedom of expression within the law.
Australia’s diversity has been increasing since the remnants of the ‘White Australia’ policy were removed, discarding the ‘Australian Settlement’ (Kelly, 2004; Stokes, 2004). With no imposed state language or religion, and no direct insistence on cultural integration, Australia is called home by a wide variety of people, from many cultures. However, diversity highlights differences between Australians, sometimes leading to violence, such as seen in Cronulla in 2005 (Kennedy & Murphy, 2005). It is events like these which serve to show the utmost importance of free expression. Without it, the opportunity to educate, dispel fear and encourage tolerance is lost. This is even acknowledged by the United Nations (UN).
The United Nations (UN) acknowledges the importance of free expression within the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) Article 19 (United Nations, 1948)2. It sets out to enshrine the right to free expression for all, balanced by the responsibility to use it wisely. They recognise that this freedom is essential to many others; without the ability and willingness to speak out against the ‘prevailing trends’, democracy would not have come about, nor would many of our most important scientific discoveries. Democracy itself requires a commitment to freedom of expression; it requires the capacity for individuals and communities to inform others, particularly their politicians, of their views3 (see also Mill, 1859). However there is a perception that to ensure the security of social cohesion, restrictions on free expression are necessary. Recently, these restrictions have come to apply to the online environment.
From humble beginnings, the internet has grown to become the technology of our age, becoming a veritable marker of our society (Barker & Kelly, 2008). With near worldwide influence, the internet has developed its own ‘imagined communities’ (Anderson, 1991) within its virtual environment, and further supplements non‐virtual ones. The internet becomes more accessible worldwide, and grows in content every day. In Australia alone, the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) informs that over eighty percent of Australians now have access to the internet at home (Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2008‐09); this is further amplified by the number of countries with figures similar to, or greater than Australia4. The internet exploits the growing globalisation trend, allowing all who access it the opportunity to connect and communicate with diverse communities of various interests.
However the internet has a dark side, too. The internet has seen a rise in criminal behaviour, along with less ‘savoury’ legal content. To combat these issues, particularly child pornography and material offending ‘standards of morality, decency and propriety’ (Department of the Attorney‐General, 2005), the Australian Government has announced an intention to apply the National Classification Code (Department of the Attorney‐General, 2005) to online content (Department of Broadband, 2011). While it is true that a number of countries implement a degree of censorship by removing or blocking illegal content5, the intentions of the Australian government go much further than other (Western) democratic states. They will apply a ‘blacklist’ to block material considered to fit the criteria for ‘Refused Classification’ material within the Code, and the Guidelines for the Classification of Films and Computer Games. These guidelines are sufficiently broad to include a great deal of content; applying this to the internet, both usergenerated and commercial content, will not only be costly and difficult to implement, it
will also be largely futile.
The ‘Clean Feed’ filter, as it is sometimes called, faces fundamental flaws from all sides; it will cost a great deal and still not do the job, as the material wanting to be blocked does not usually get transferred via webpages, and the avenues in which it does get distributed will not be ‘censored’. It will also block material that is not necessarily illegal, and be easily bypassed with only a little technical knowledge, easily found on the internet. Now, this of course may not itself cause concern – what is the problem with spending money spuriously? There are two fundamental problems with censorship of the internet.
Firstly, the purpose of the classification guidelines is to provide advice to the public. By applying the ‘clean feed’, there is a distinct possibility that the public, and particularly parents, will be less vigilant over their children’s online time, thinking that it is now somehow ‘safe’; however the majority of risks children face online will not be removed by the filter. There is also the fact that the money for the ‘filter’ could be better spent on real opportunities for combatting the online danger to children, through greater funding for finding and prosecuting the criminals behind these crimes.
The other issue with an acceptance of the ‘clean feed’ is that the content blocked will be ‘secret’, available only to very specific public servants. This is a fundamental breach of the freedom of speech, and places Australians in a position where they are in the dark to the true nature of censorship (Thompson, 2004). When other forms of media, such as books and films, are refused classification, indications of why they have been banned are provided, which affords the public to lobby for their release. With the proposed filter, there will be no visibility of reasoning, no way to get content released if inadvertent errors are made, and no opportunity for discussion on the constitution of the ‘standards of morality, decency and propriety’ they cite. The standards being applied to the code can also be questioned to their validity, noting how diverse Australian culture is. This limits the usefulness of a ‘one size fits all’
approach. Individuals and families are better placed, and have superior authority over their moral standards and children’s education, recognised even by the UDHR (See Articles 12, 19 & 26 in United Nations, 1948). The ability and opportunity to freely express issues in society are essential to the search for truth, and to the development of
potential. Our diversity provides a strong likelihood of mismatches between standards; this shows that “boundaries between acceptable and unacceptable speech are by definition ‘ideological’”(Post, as cited in Gelber, 2010), that is, based upon imposition of one person’s or group’s values on others. What may be highly offensive to one person
may be acceptable to another. This highlights another issue with broad and general application of restrictions to speech.
Australia has introduced broad based defamation and vilification laws. Unfortunately, the generality of these laws create unintended effects, including spurious lawsuits, and the ‘chilling’ of speech (Heinze, 2006) due to the inability to determine what is, and is not within the law. A recent example of this is on the internet forum ‘Whirlpool’. This website, one of the largest online forums in Australia, was recently targeted by a company for negative comments by anonymous users regarding their products (Staff writers, 2007). The case was discontinued; however events like this can break down communities, withhold valuable consumer information and serve to silence dissent. It could be argued that this was just a spurious case, and that we should be focused on damage caused by ‘hate speech’. Shouldn’t this be unlawful?
Within an apparently ‘civilised’ country, the normative expectation is for criticism to be mature and ‘appropriate’, not hostile. This is certainly worth encouraging, through praise for good ‘clean’ argumentation, or condemnation for hostile argumentation. However, while striving to improve the quality of speech is admirable, we should not
automatically discount opinions based on poor form. As noted by Summy (1998), many languages have deep‐seated attachments to metaphors which are violent and vitriolic (Summy, 1998). The use of strong language, rhetoric and metaphor can often be misconstrued. However, even if not misconstrued, it is impossible to force a ‘love thy neighbour’ approach. No external authority can dictate what citizens must love or hate, nor should they legislate against hatred. Outlawing ‘hate speech’ will not change opinion, since it does not address the root cause of the hatred, whether fear, bad experiences, or lack of education. In fact, it can do the opposite. It can breed
resentment, and drive opposition underground, removing the opportunity to ‘keep an eye on’ the lines of demarcation, potentially leading to violent outbursts. It is the threat, attempt or successful act which causes harm which is a crime, and it is this which should be punished. The answer to bad speech and ignorance is not silence ‐ it is rebutting it with good speech. Those with the freedom to speak are charged with a civic duty to enlighten these others with better views. Freedom of speech should not be limited on the basis of ‘hate speech’.
This however, is not a call for an immoderate, ‘anything goes’ attitude, or a call for ‘cultural relativity’. It is a call for Australians to unite under a shared culture of multiculturalism. It is a call for a standard independent of ‘popularity’; rather than a top‐down approach that ‘x is wrong because we’ve made it so’. While it may be difficult
to find where the line is drawn, through the reasoning capacity all humans are capable of, and the capacity for free speech, the truth can be found. The truth is not always to be found with ourselves, or with our opponents; much of the time, it is somewhere in between. When the state decides on questions of truth, we have then moved from
democracy to tyranny. We must be prepared to re‐examine the standards; while it may be difficult to accept a changeable standard, societies are rigid or fixed, and so must be prepared to consider new options on receipt of new information. It is also a call for education, and a commitment to active participation in civic life.
Education is the key to solving many public issues. Discrimination, hate and fear of the ‘Other’ can be combatted through the education of each generation, and providing opportunities for widespread community participation. Through social and political debate, communities learn from each other; this can provide opportunities to dispel fears, and generate the tolerance that fosters mutual respect and social cohesion.
Tolerance is not neutrality ‐ taking the ‘middle ground’ on an issue; It is not meekly following orders for fear of being charged, or even moral or civic indifference to an issue not cared about. It requires much more; the courage to consider alternative opinions,
and the forbearance of opinions you don’t like. As Mill points out, no‐one is infallible (Mill, 1859); if we attempt to silence opinions because we don’t like them, use poorly worded or obnoxious language, or they show criticism (causing distress) to an individual or group, then we not only take from them, but we also lose opportunities for ourselves.
By having the courage to listen and understand opposing viewpoints, the opportunity is provided to understand both ourselves and others, to reconsider or concede positions, or to better develop arguments that demonstrate why the opposition is wrong. All sides are encouraged to engage in the debate and there is no silencing of objections; instead there is the encouragement to learn from each other, attempting to find common ground on which to compromise (see Habermas, in Gelber, 2010). Intolerance, on the other hand, rejects this; it dictates possibilities and peoples’ capacity for selfdetermination.
(Hu)Man’s capacity for self‐determination and reasoning can see social problems overcome without the need for censorship or limitations on free expression. Through discussion and debate, societies are provided with the opportunity to understand others, and develop ideas to improve themselves. There may never be clear delineation
between truth and falsity or morality and immorality; by allowing others to speak, and considering the value of their arguments, society is provided with the opportunity for critical reflection, heading towards the examined life Socrates (de Botton, 2000) hoped everyone would live. The outcomes of these debates may never bring everyone to one common opinion, nor should this be seen as necessary; societies are constantly evolving, and values, expectations and knowledge will change over time. For this reason, we should always be willing to consider the opinions of those we do not agree with; for by silencing them we lose opportunities for ourselves, and reject the diversity that defines us.
Australian Capital Television Pty Ltd and New South Wales v Commonwealth (1992a) HCA 45; 177 CLR 106.
Nationwide News Pty Ltd v Wills (1992b) HCA 46; 177 CLR 1.
Theophanous v Herald and Weekly Times Limited (1994) HCA 46; 182 CLR 104.
Anderson, B. (1991) Imagined Communities, London: Verso.
Australian Bureau of Statistics (2008‐09) ‘8146.0 ‐ Household Use of Information Technology, Australia ‘, available: http://www.ausstats.abs.gov.au/Ausstats/subscriber.nsf/0/9B44779BD8AF6A9CCA25768D0
Barker, J. & Kelly, S. (2008) ‘Technology and Nationalism’ in G. Herb & D. Kaplan, (eds.), Nations and Nationalism: A Global Historical Overview 1, Santa Barbara: ABC‐CLIO, 126‐136.
Beatrice Hall, E. (1906) The Friends of Voltaire, Smith Elder & Co.
de Botton, A. (2000) ‘Consolation for Unpopularity’ in The Consolations of Philosophy, London: Penguin Books, 3‐42.
Department of Broadband, C. a. t. D. E. (2011) ‘Cybersafety plan’, [online], available:
http://www.dbcde.gov.au/online_safety_and_security/cybersafety_plan [1 November 2011].
National Classification Code 2005 (Commonwealth of Australia), ss.
Gelber, K. (2010) ‘Freedom of political speech, hate speech and the argument from democracy: The
transformative contribution of capabilities theory’, Contemporary Political Theory, 9 (3), 304‐304‐324.
Heinze, E. (2006) ‘Viewpoint Absolutism and Hate Speech’, The Modem Law Review Limited 69 (4), 543‐582.
International Telecommunication Union (25/10/2011) ‘Information and Communication Technology
(ICT) Statistics’, [online], available: http://www.itu.int/ITU‐D/ict/facts/2011/index.html
Jordan, R. (2002) Free Speech and the Constitution, Research Note 42 of Department of the Parliamentary Library, Canberra.
Kelly, P. (2004) ‘Comment: the Australian settlement’, Australian Journal of Political Science, 39 (1), 23 ‐ 25.
Kennedy, L. & Murphy, D. (2005) ‘Racist furore as mobs riot’, The Age (theage.com.au), 12 December 2005, http://www.theage.com.au/news/national/racist‐furore‐as‐mobsriot/2005/12/11/1134235948497.html?page=2.
Mill, J. S. (1859) On Liberty, Everyman New York ed., 1992, New York: Random House.
Staff writers (2007) ‘2Clix sues Whirlpool founder’, [online], available:http://whirlpool.net.au/news/?id=1753 [12 Sep 2007].
Stokes, G. (2004) ‘The ‘Australian settlement’ and Australian political thought’, Australian Journal of Political Science, 39 (1), 5 ‐ 22.
Summy, R. (1998) ‘Nonviolent speech’, Peace Review, 10 (4), 573‐578.
Thompson, B. (2004) ‘Doubts over web filtering plans’, 11 June, 2004, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/3797563.stm.
United Nations (1948) ‘Universal Declaration of Human Rights’, 60th Anniversary Ed, available:
1 Free expression and Free Speech are used interchangeably; however the former creates the impression of a
broader right, encompassing the latter.
2 While Australia is a signatory to this declaration, no government has introduced legislation to incorporate this
convention into Australian law. Jordan, R. (2002) Free Speech and the Constitution, Research Note 42 of
Department of the Parliamentary Library, Canberra..
3 This was recognised by the High Court of Australia in the early 1990’s through several legal cases, notably
Australian Capital Television Pty Ltd and New South Wales v Commonwealth (1992a) HCA 45; 177 CLR 106,
Nationwide News Pty Ltd v Wills (1992b) HCA 46; 177 CLR 1, Theophanous v Herald and Weekly Times Limited
(1994) HCA 46; 182 CLR 104.
4 This is not to say worldwide access is equally distributed – there is a recognised ‘digital divide’ between the
developed, and developing world. For more details, and world statistics, see International Telecommunication
Union (25/10/2011) ‘Information and Communication Technology (ICT) Statistics’, [online], available:
5 Canada and Great Britain are prominent examples. See http://www.cybertip.ca/app/en/about and Thompson,
B. (2004) ‘Doubts over web filtering plans’, 11 June, 2004, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/3797563.stm.