I think there are probably lots of lies worth believing, and that this probably varies from individual to individual: the person even thinking about drinking and driving ought to believe that he or she will end up harming someone that night, even though statistics do not actually support that belief. The person thinking of cheating on a test ought to believe that she will get caught, even if the chances are very unlikely, and so on. But many people might think the very question of whether or not there is a lie worth believing is a moot one: the question assumes it is possible to make yourself belief in something you know to be false. Many philosophers think this is just not possible, that you cannot "will to believe" something, just because believing it will somehow benefit you. This seems right to me: there is something about belief that has to be sensitive to the truth. If it really were the case that you knew something was a lie, I don't think you could believe it. The situation may change if...

From an ethical standpoint, the research and development of weapons of mass destruction is justifiable only by appeal to the deterrent effect possession of such weapons has. When a country has weapons of mass destruction, others are deterred from using force against that county. There is a significant catch, though: in order to attain the desired deterrent effect, other countries have to believe that the country who possesses the weapons will, in fact, use them if provoked. And this is where the logic of deterrence gets sketchy: ethical considerations of the efficacy of deterrence support the having of weapons, yet in order to serve as deterrents, a country has to be prepared to use them. Those very same ethical considerations, however, may not support the actual use of weapons of mass destruction. These considerations do not directly respond to one of your central concerns, which is whether or not the use of weapons of mass destruction is justifiable. Yet I do hope to have raised some...

Moral philosophers will disagree on this topic; there are many different theories of moral worth. Some place significant weight on intentions, some do not. I think one helpful way of approaching this issue is to sort out the different considerations at stake. First, consider the act. We can understand the act as it is embedded in the particular circumstance, or the act as it is itself. For example, there is something that is always bad about the act of killing. Yet, killing in wartime is (at least) not always bad. Viewing the act of killing as it is embedded in the circumstance of warfare changes the moral evaluation of the act. Second,consider the agent. We can imagine all sorts of circumstances where "a good person does a bad thing". A person harms someone by accident; a person tries to help someone yet fails miserably through no fault of her own. These are cases where intention and acts come apart. These considerations might help to explain some of the examples you raise in your question. ...

Ethical theories are meant to cover all areas of one's life. If someone truly embraces a particular ethical theory, then all of her actions ought to be at least consistent with her ethical beliefs. Some decisions, and corresponding actions, have no ethical value: choosing which pair of shoes to wear is not something that is normally construed as having moral relevance! And, really, many of our actions are of this neutral sort. Even with these neutral actions, though, the consistent agent will ensure that her actions really are neutral, and do not conflict with her ethical commitments.

In response to your first question, there is a pretty significant discussion in contemporary ethical theory regarding the concepts of obligation and duty. Elizabeth Anscombe, in “Modern Moral Philosophy” suggests that talk of duty is meaningless absent the existence of a lawgiver. Both Michael Stocker (“The Schizophrenia of Modern Ethical Theories”) and Bernard Williams (“Persons, Character, and Morality”) take this concern further, and argue that concepts of duty and obligation can be psychologically damaging to agents. While these authors don’t explicitly discuss the moralistic judgments and punishments your question cites, they do address your more fundamental concern that appealing to “duty” is problematic. Your second question is harder to answer. Some might justify appeal to moralistic language and punishments on the grounds that they can be effective modes of getting people to do the “right” thing (even if they psychologically damage people in the process!). One might try to justify the...

The short answer to your question is that, strictly speaking, parents have a right to teach their children whatever they want. My guess is that you are really wondering whether or not you ought to be teaching your son non-violence, or whether or not you are justified in doing so. The answer to these questions, I think, will depend on the nature of your belief in non-violence. If you believe in non-violence because you think it leads to a happier world, then the fact that your belief in non-violence causes unhappiness to your son should carry some weight. But if you believe in non-violence independently of its connections to happiness, then you may very well be justified in teaching this belief even if it does cause unhappiness to your son. You may determine that the central values to be learned through teaching non-violence are so important that they outweigh the temporary unhappiness generated by this commitment.

The reason why we worry about an imbalance of power in these cases is because where one party has more power over the other, it is possible that the other is being coerced by the more powerful party. It is not necessarily the existence of an imbalance that is problematic, but the potential this imbalance has to prevent the weaker party from making free and informed choices. The problem is exacerbated when the weaker party is a minor, as the issue of informed consent is trickier when we deal with children. Many believe that children are not capable of giving informed consent in any situation; certainly we would have reason to be concerned in situations where there also exists an imbalance of power. If we could really establish that the minor has given informed consent, then the existence of an imbalance of power might not in itself be problematic. But it is an extremely difficult task to establish the existence of informed consent in such cases, which is why most people think sexual relationships...

Your question raises some fascinating issues. I think it will help to separate your question into two distinct concerns: (1) Is it immoral to use faulty reasoning to convince someone to believe something? (2) Is it immoral to place people in a situation where they might believe something on the basis of faulty reasoning? My first instinct is that situations involving (1) are likely to be immoral, whereas those involved in (2) are probably not. In cases of the first sort such as cases where you use poor reasoning to convince someone of something, as Professor Smith notes, there is a degree of deception at work. While most moral philosophers don’t think that deception is always a bad thing, they nonetheless think it is bad absent special justification. We can imagine cases where deception is harmless (as in your example, of using faulty reasoning to get someone to believe it rained, when in fact it did rain), or even beneficial (as could happen when you deceive someone to do something that is good for...

In thinking about the existence of a social contract, or lack thereof, the first thing we need to do is separate questions about the possible terms of the contract from questions about its existence. You note that courts have denied that the members of the government can always be held liable to protect individuals; these rulings on their own, however, don’t give us reason to believe either for or against the existence of a social contract. For example, rather than suggesting the non-existence of a social contract, they could instead simply reflect the terms of the contract, and in particular, that absolute protection is not one of the terms. And this would be reasonable: we typically think that the terms of the contract should be limited, at the very least, by what is within each party’s capacities. Yet is not always within the government’s capacity to be both fully informed of possible threats and to be prepared to protect individuals from those threats. Your overall concern about the very...

There are certainly deep connections between justice and revenge. J.S. Mill , in his Utilitarianism, suggests that the sentiment of justice is really just an extended desire for revenge. He argues that we all have a basic impulse for self-defense that directs us to seek revenge on those who harm us. Through a combination of our intellect and sympathy, we extend this desire for revenge to anyone who harms our community, and a sentiment of justice arises. Mill would probably agree with your analysis that justice is distinguished from revenge largely in that the sentiment of justice has an objective nature, while a desire for revenge has an inherently subjective character to it. Notice, though, that Mill is talking about the sentiment of justice, and not justice itself. We can separate the sentiment of justice from justice itself, which covers a sphere of actions, of which acts of retribution comprise just one part. With revenge, on the other hand, it is harder to separate the sentiment of revenge...