In a Different Voice

A friend of mine recently purchased a brand new car. A few weeks ago, she walked out to her parking space to find a noticeable scratch and ding on her previously show-room perfect vehicle. There was no one in sight and no note under the windshield. Since I am ever fascinated by the ethical question, I wondered if there exists a fundamental difference between people who would leave a note and those who would not. The difference I suspect is moral maturity.

 

When my brother was in high school he hit a car in a parking lot. He left a brief note on the windshield of the dented car explaining what had happened and included his name and phone number. The owner of the vehicle called our house and reached my father, who wasn’t at all angry. When the phone call ended my father related to me how impressed the caller had been by both my brother’s actions and by how rare it is to find such a sense of right and responsibility in one so young. My father may have told me the story to teach me what to do in this situation, when I began to drive. But I suspect he told me because he was so proud. He was proud that in a moment when my brother could have driven off in secrecy, he chose to do the right thing. It is in these moments I think, when our moral character most reveals itself; in those moments when no one is watching. There is no threat of punishment if discovered. There is no risk of invoking moral judgment by others. These two motivations represent the first two stages of Lawrence Kohlberg’s stages of development in moral reasoning. The most elementary stage (pre-conventional) is represented by those who act according to fear of punishment or hope for reward. One might think of a three year old who will not eat the cookie simply to avoid being sent to the corner but there are many adults who never move past this stage. The second stage (conventional) involves acting rightly in order to win the approval and acceptance of peers exemplified perhaps by the adolescent dynamic of “peer pressure.”  Some adults as well, never move beyond this stage. In the post-conventional stage moral judgments are made through the use of abstract moral reasoning based on universal principles.

 

Doire tangent: The operative word there being “universal.” Many live by moral principles that no one would wish to become universal. Just because a person lives by principles does not mean they are “good” ones. People construct all kinds of little moral precepts in their heads and judge themselves to be virtuous because they live by them. The Mafia code of ethics is a perfect example. The Mafia live principled lives based upon a particular code of morality and yet no one who is not Mafia would wish these to be held universally. Perhaps this is what Immanuel Kant observed (not the Mafia, but the dynamic) when he posited his categorical imperative, “Act only on those maxims that you would desire become universal law.” (Or something like that—I write it from memory).

 

I cannot write of Lawrence Kohlberg’s stages however, without adding that Kohlberg’s research involved only boys and men. Carol Gilligan’s groundbreaking book (published 25 years ago), In a Different Voice, noted that (generally) men and women are socialized to reason through moral problems differently (note: she never suggested that the difference is innate).  In what she described as an “ethic of care” her research showed that women make moral decisions not on the basis of universal principles but on the basis of relationship, or on the basis of empathy for another’s injury. The difference can be illustrated by observing young children at play. Little girls when faced with a playmate’s elimination from a game will alter the rules so that she will not be excluded. Little boys will adhere to the rules and (tough luck) the child is “out.” It is this dynamic through which women have been historically rendered morally inferior. Men have noted that women “cave” in adherence to principle when potential damage to a relationship might be at risk and according to the male standard of moral reasoning, women have been perceived as weak. What you see depends upon where you stand and how you measure moral fortitude depends upon your yardstick. Neither of these modes of moral reasoning is superior to the other. Neither are they exclusively restricted by gender. When I read Gilligan’s book many years ago, so much became clear to me. I began to understand how certain moral acts committed by husbands and male friends, senators and Presidents would elicit incredulity from my women friends and me, “HOW could they ignore the human element of the thing, in deference to some law?” And male friends, “HOW could she abandon the rules because of someone’s feelings?” Strict adherence to one of the two modes may result either in the sacrifice of people to the principle, or conversely the sacrifice of principle in the interest of people. In my opinion, the mark of moral maturity is in the ability to appeal to both and to knowing when the “ethic of care” or the “ethic of principle” is most appropriate. I do not know what dynamic of moral reasoning my brother utilized when he left that note on the windshield years ago. He might have been adhering to a universal moral principle that when one damages another’s property, one fesses up. Or he might have considered how he would feel if someone hit his car and didn’t acknowledge it. Whatever the case, one thing I know: he did the right thing.