Christopher Cowley

I confess to finding the term ‘supererogation’ ugly and unpronounceable. I am also generally suspicious of technical terms in moral philosophy, since they are vulnerable to self-serving definition and counter-definition, to the point of obscuring whether there is a single phenomenon about which to disagree. It was surely not accidental that J.O. Urmson, in his classic 1958 article that launched the contemporary Anglophone debate, eschewed the technical term in favour of the more familiar concepts of saints and heroes. Since then, however, the term Supererogation has bedded down to encompass a number of more or less clear-cut philosophical debates, one of which concerns precisely the extent to which saintliness and heroism exhaust the supererogatory. And it has to be admitted that the word ‘saint’ has certain theological connotations that might be misleading in a secular philosophical discussion, while the word ‘hero’ has potentially limiting associations with knights and soldiers and other forms of testosterone-driven accomplishment.

In this article I consider the case of the surgical separation of conjoined twins resulting in the immediate and predictable death of the weaker one. The case was submitted to English law by the hospital, and the operation permitted against the parents’ wishes. I consider the relationship between the legal decision and the moral reasons adduced in its support, reasons gaining their force against the framework of much mainstream normative ethical theory. I argue that in a few morally dilemmatic situations, such a legalistic–theoretical approach cannot plausibly accommodate certain irreducible and ineliminable features of the ethical experience of any concrete individual implicated in the situation, and that this failure partly undermines its self–appointed role of guiding such an individual's conduct. For example, the problem as experienced by the judge and by the parents might not be the same problem at all, and some of their respective reasons may be mutually unintelligible or impotent. I certainly do not argue for a rejection of law or of moral theory; I merely challenge their implicit claim to comprehensiveness and their fixation with an idealised and putatively universal rationality modelled on converging scientific enquiry. Finally, I claim that at least in the twins’ case there may be insufficient normative robustness to the conclusions reached, or indeed reachable, by the court in a situation where intuitions and moral reasons pull in fundamentally incommensurable directions; as such, there may be room for an acknowledgement of the spiritual, through a humble abstention from making a decision – which is not to be confused with deciding to do nothing.

By looking at the situations faced by the protagonists of two classic plays, I try to shed light on what it means to face an insoluble moral dilemma, what it might mean to deal with it, and how the dilemma can reveal certain crucial information about the decision-maker to us readers-spectators, to other characters in the play who witness, or are implicated by, the incident, as well as, and perhaps most importantly, to the protagonist himself. In so doing, I distinguish the above dilemmas from moral-prudential dilemmas and from apparent dilemmas constituted by the mere lack of epistemological access. Indeed, I generally resist the various reductive approaches characteristic of much analytic moral philosophy, and challenge the notion of a uniquely right answer to which all rational moral agents can be held accountable.

In a recent article, Henri Wijsbek discusses the 1991 Chabot “psychiatric euthanasia” case in the Netherlands, and argues that Chabot was justified in helping his patient to die. Dutch legislation at the time permitted physician assisted suicide when the patient’s condition is severe, hopeless, and unbearable. The Dutch Supreme Court agreed with Chabot that the patient met these criteria because of her justified depression, even though she was somatically healthy. Wijsbek argues that in this case, the patient’s integrity had been undermined by recent events, and that this is the basis for taking her request seriously; it was unreasonable to expect that she could start again. In this paper, I do not challenge the Dutch euthanasia criteria in the case of somatic illness, but I argue that both Chabot and Wijsbek are wrong because we can never be sufficiently confident in cases of severe exogenous depression to assist the patient in her irreversible act. This is partly because of the essential difference between somatic and mental illness, and because of the possibility of therapy and other help. In addition, I argue that Wijsbek’s concept of integrity cannot do the work that he expects of it. Finally, I consider a 2011 position paper from the Royal Dutch Medical Association on euthanasia, and the implications it might have for Chabot-style cases in the future.

Williams's classic 1980 article ‘Internal and External Reasons’ has attracted much criticism, but, in my view, has never been properly refuted. I wish to describe and defend Williams's account against three powerful criticisms by Michael Smith, John McDowell and Tim Scanlon. In addition, I draw certain implications from Williams's account – implications with which Williams would not necessarily agree – about the nature and the role of the personal in ethics. Williams's insight, that a reason (including a moral reason) must find purchase in an agent's ‘subjective motivational set’ if it is to function as a reason at all, undermines a central assumption of many moral philosophers, realists and non‐cognitivists alike: that there exists a singular objective realm of moral facts and moral reasons supervening on the situation before the agent. According to this assumption, if two people facing that situation disagree about whether one of them has reason to Φ, then at least one of them must be mistaken. I reject this assumption and defend Williams's account, while pointing at ways in which the account might be developed. While the internalism‐externalism debate itself is well‐worn, there is still something new and important that can be gleaned from it.

Most modern moral philosophy is what I call ‘Impersonalist.’ It claims, quite plausibly, that the particular identity of the moral agent has nothing to do with the rightness or bestness of a given course of action, with the overriding moral reasons supporting such an action, nor with the moral obligation placed upon the agent to perform it.In addition, the Impersonalist account assumes what I call a Humean model of practical reasoning, whereby perception, deliberation, decision, and action are all logically separate stages.I challenge both the alleged moral irrelevance of the agent and the logical separation of the reasoning stages by invoking Peter Winch’s metaphor of a ‘moral perspective’: my perception andmy deliberation are both shaped by the perspective from within which I experience – and must experience – the world.Different people have different moral perspectives, and so they will consider different moral options as available and different reasons as relevant when considering the same situation. This is relativism, but only a benign form, and I explain why.