The Impossibility, or Impracticality, of Virtue Ethics

In a recent article entitled “The Impossibility of a Virtue Ethic,” Loren Lomasky argues that a virtue ethic is an impossibility. What is a virtue ethic? A framework for determining right and wrong actions by reference to expressing a virtuous and un-virtuous character, respectively. Examples of virtue include character traits like courage, temperance, and honor. Vices, on the other hand, include but are not limited to character traits like cruelty, vulgarity, and rashness. Somebody does something right when they embody the virtue that is relevant to the circumstance at hand, whereas they do something wrong when they do not. Is an ethic of this kind really, as Lomasky insists, impossible? 

A virtue ethic gives us intuitively satisfactory answers to quandaries that implicate our ethical sensibilities. Consider a scenario where a murderer breaks into your home and threatens to kill you and your family. A virtue ethicist might say something to the effect of: “It is morally right for you to kill the murderer, because the circumstances demand you exercise virtues like courage and perhaps filial piety to protect yourself and others in your family from danger.” A deontologist (like myself), on the other hand, may say that killing the murderer is morally permissible though not necessarily morally praiseworthy. (Some deontologists might insist that circumstances require you kill the murderer, though I am not one of these). Different still, a utilitarian consequentialist may require that you allow the murderer kill you provided that your death will result in a greater net good for everyone else. Of these positions, the virtue ethicist’s appears most plausible and intuitive at first glance. 

Lomasky insists, however, that adhering to an ethical framework that requires the cultivation of virtuous character which, in turn, facilitates virtuous action, is an impossibility. The reasons for this are threefold: (1) The most well-known account of a virtue ethic (Aristotle’s) requires that individuals be raised in a manner conducive to virtue lest they be disqualified from the possibility of being virtuous persons; (2) Virtues are not necessary to leading a good life; and (3) Virtues are not always conducive to a good life. In what follows, I parse what each of these criticisms of virtue ethics amount to, and explain why Lomasky believes they lend themselves to the claim that a virtue ethic is strictly impossible. Though I am, for the most part, in agreement with the thrust of Lomasky’s argument, I suggest that these reasons support the claim that a virtue ethic is impractical, not impossible. The sense in which it is impractical gives us good reason to discard it as an ethical theory for the masses, though I do not believe that it is ineffective in allowing some to lead good lives. The reason they lead “good lives” in the first place, however,  appears to be related to the fact that a properly construed virtue ethic encourages those who subscribe to it to lead a life consistent with a broadly deontological ethic.

(1) The problem of habituation

Virtue ethicists may turn to the ethics of Aristotle to show that a virtue ethic is, indeed, possible in practice. But, as Lomasky points out, the ideals which the followers of Aristotle aspire for are difficult–if not impossible–to attain. A person must be habituated properly to even be eligible for the development of virtuous character. That is, they must be raised such that they derive pleasure from the performance of virtuous action and pain from the performance of vicious action. Those who are not so habituated are, in other words, disqualified from the Virtue Olympics. Moreover, it is very difficult for those who have been properly habituated to develop virtue of the kind promoted by Aristotle. Thus, says Lomasky, Aristotle’s virtue ethic is aspirational–not operational. For some–perhaps many, even–a virtue ethic would be an obsolete prescription because they have either been improperly habituated and cannot feel the good in virtuous activity or they cannot secure virtuous character traits given the high bar that is set by virtue ethicists for what enables one to do so. 

(2) Some virtues are unnecessary to some people

Lomasky also suggests that different lifestyles require the employment of different virtues. A Navy Seal, as he says, requires an abundance of courage to lead a good life; a philosopher, on the other hand, does not. Some might contend that philosophers require courage of a different kind, but Lomasky (rightly, to my mind) insists that it would be a mistake to suggest that what is required of philosophers is courage understood in the same way as that needed by Navy Seals. What is called into question in these two instances are two distinct kinds of virtues: one that is needed by the kind of person who leads a life which demands the development of one virtue, and another that is needed by the kind of person who leads a sufficiently different life which demands the cultivation of another kind of virtue. If some virtues are unnecessary to some, perhaps even many, people, what is the point of subscribing to an ethic that purports to give answers about ethical conduct by making reference to virtues?

(3) Virtues can be detrimental

Lastly, Lomasky asserts that the development of some virtues for some people can detract from their ability to lead good lives for themselves. Some people can lead meaningful, full, good lives where they provide others with opportunities to lead good lives not by practicing all those virtues deemed necessary for the good life, but by eschewing some of them. Being perfectionistic, intense, and monomaniacal in the ways that virtue discourages is the reason that people like Steve Jobs are able to lead their most complete, best lives. For some people–maybe even an insignificant minority of people–the pursuit of virtue stands in the way of them leading good lives. If a virtue ethic purports to lead people toward the good life, but cannot do so in these cases, it seems as though it does some a disservice when it ought not. 

On its face, it appears that a virtue ethic is impossible given these failings, as Lomasky suggests. But I think it is more precise to suggest that a virtue ethic is impractical, or a kind of ethic which cannot be universally subscribed to given the nature of the world rather than with some failing in the theoretical underpinnings of the theory. Certainly, some virtues are unnecessary to some people and other virtues can be detrimental to others. Moreover, many people will be disqualified from becoming properly virtuous in the first place even if, on the off-chance, they benefit from exercising all of the virtues, because they have not been properly habituated. Some people, however, will be properly habituated, will benefit from the exercise of all the virtues, and will find that exercising these virtues are necessary to leading a good life. Lomasky himself concludes by suggesting that: 

“Among the hundreds of channels on my television service is one called NFL RedZone. It affords sports fans the pleasure of viewing every single touchdown-scoring play from the week’s games. This is where to tune so as to access the peak moments of every contest. It is not, however, the site to which one is well-advised to direct a novice who wishes to develop an understanding of the practice of football. That is because RedZone’s truncations distort the nature of the game. Not all football plays are glamorous, not all afford instant gratification. Someone who comes to understand football will be made aware that modest advances and resolute defenses are essential to achieve decent results. Virtue ethics is the RedZone channel of moral philosophy. It declines to attend to pragmatic strategies of ordinary human life, thereby rendering itself applicable only to elites. Others need to tune in elsewhere.” 

This implies that a virtue ethic is not the strict impossibility that Lomasky suggests, but that it is impractical and undesirable given its exclusivity and its failure in universal applicability. This might be a mere disagreement about the usage of terms (impossibility, namely), in which case Lomasky and I disagree about very little on this matter. But I want to go a bit further than does Lomasky in his essay by suggest that the elites who can lead good lives by cultivating virtue are leading good lives because their practice of virtue exists within a broadly deontological framework. The actions that they have come to understand as morally right/required are really actions that are morally permissible, but seem to be the best course of action to take given their circumstances. Lomasky’s criticism of virtue ethics appears, to me at least, to implicitly suggest that virtue ethics (in the few circumstances where it is stable and practicable) is a deontological ethical view, tailored particularly. 

Connor Kianpour