What is self-effacement in moral theory? Simon Keller (2007) explains that a moral theory is self-effacing if the relevant considerations it posits as to what is right and wrong may sometimes not serve as motives for action.1 He argues that virtue ethics is self-effacing in the same way that deontological and consequentialist ethics are, and that a lack of self-effacement is therefore not a reason to prefer one of these theories over another.
According to Keller, deontological theories are self-effacing insofar as there may be situations in which the desire to conform with moral duty may not be the best motive to perform actions in those situations. Consequentialist theories are self-effacing insofar as there may be situations in which the desire to bring about the best possible consequences may not be the best motive to perform actions in those situations. Virtue ethics is self-effacing insofar as there may be situations in which the desire to perform the actions that a fully virtuous person would perform in those situations may not be the best motive for performing those actions.
To provide an example of the self-effacement of virtue ethics, Keller describes a situation in which three friends, Arthur, Benjamin, and Christine, who are sharing a hut in the woods, offer to help a family that is struggling to put up a tent nearby. Arthur's motive for inviting the family to take shelter in their hut is that he wants to help the family, because they seem to be cold and tired and hungry. Benjamin's motive for inviting the family to take shelter in their hut is that he wants to be generous. Christine's motive for inviting the family to take shelter in their hut is that she wants to do what a fully virtuous person would do. In this situation, Arthur's motive for helping the family seems to be the most praiseworthy, since it best reflects the kinds of motives that a truly virtuous person would have.
Laozi might approach the situation by making an assessment of the degree to which each of the three friends' motives and actions conform to the Way. Laozi says in the Daodejing that the Way to Heaven is to benefit, and not to harm. The Way of the sage is to act, but not to strive (chapter eighty-one). To act according to the Dao (the Way) is to act virtuously, but not to strive to be virtuous. In acting according to the Way, less and less is done, until nothing is done, and when nonaction (wu wei) is achieved, nothing will be left undone (chapter forty-eight). That is why the sage can be entrusted to care for everything.
Laozi also says that the greatest virtue comes from following only the Way (chapter twenty-one), By following the Way, those who yield will overcome, those who bend will be made straight, those who are empty will be filled, those who are worn out will be renewed, and those who have little will gain (chapter twenty-two). Moreover, those who follow the Way do not boast or make a display of themselves (chapter twenty-four). Thus, the sage (the shengren) doesn't seek to be recognized for acting according to the Way. He acts spontaneously by complying with the natural order of things. The more he gives to others, the more he has. He recognizes that he may lose by gaining and gain by losing. He acts by not acting, and thus he achieves everything.
In following the Dao, we see the interdependence of all phenomena. Good and evil, beauty and ugliness, having and not having, long and short, high and low, front and back are all interdependent (chapter two). The myriad things carry yin and embrace yang. By combining these qi (cosmic energies, life forces, or material forces) or complementary aspects of reality, the myriad things attain harmony (chapter forty-two).
Thus, the Dao is a path that preserves harmony between yin and yang. It is in accord with the natural order of things. Whatever is contrary to it will not long survive (chapter thirty). It does nothing, and yet it leaves nothing undone (chapter thirty-seven). However, it is also unnameable. If it is named or told, then it is not the Dao. If it is unnamed or untold, then it is the beginning of heaven and earth. It is the gate to all mysteries (chapter one).
The Dao can be neither seen nor heard. It is formless and intangible. It is neither bright nor dark, neither beginning nor ending. (chapter fourteen). It blunts the sharpness of things, and it darkens the brightness of things. It loosens the tightness of things, and it softens the roughness of things.
Only when the Dao is lost or abandoned, says Laozi, do benevolence and righteousness arise. Only when there is disorder within the family do filial piety and deference arise. Only when the state is in chaos do loyal ministers arise (chapter eighteen).2
Moreover, only when the Way is left behind do we rely on virtue. Only when virtue is left behind do we rely on benevolence. Only when benevolence is left behind do we rely on righteousness. Only when righteousness is left behind do we rely on ritual propriety (chapter thirty-eight).3
To know constancy, says Laozi, is to attain enlightenment. It's also to be open-minded, as well as open-hearted. It's to be accommodating, and to work for the good of all (chapter sixteen).
If you are a good walker, according to Laozi, then you will leave no tracks. If you are a good speaker, then you will make no slips or mistakes. If you are good at numbers, then you will not need to count or tally. If you are good at closing up, then you will need no locks or bolts. If you are good at binding, then you will need no knots, and whatever you have bound will not be unbound. Thus, the sage takes care of everyone, and he abandons no one. He takes care of all things, and he abandons nothing (chapter twenty-seven). He works without doing, and he practices wu wei (non-striving or nonaction) (chapter sixty-three).
To practice wu wei is to be pliant and supple, spontaneous and effortless. It is to perfect oneself without thinking about oneself. It is to support others without attempting to gain authority over them. Thus, the sage, by not seeking to be recognized, is recognized. By yielding to resistance, he overcomes resistance. By putting himself behind, he gets ahead. By giving without expecting to be rewarded, he is rewarded. By not seeking to be fulfilled, he is fulfilled.
In the situation that Keller describes, in which Arthur, Benjamin, and Christine differ in their motives for acting virtuously, Laozi would probably most approve of Arthur, who acts more purely out of generosity and compassion than Benjamin and Christine, who act more out of a desire to see themselves as generous and compassionate. Laozi says that the way of the sage is to act, rather than to deliberate about all the factors that might lead him to act. By being reluctant to accept favor and willing to accept disgrace, the sage can act selflessly without regard to his own personal gain, and by caring for others as he would care for himself, he can be entrusted to care for the whole world (chapter thirteen).
Laozi would probably approve to a lesser degree of Benjamin's desire to be generous, because although Benjamin is trying to exemplify a moral virtue, Benjamin is also striving to be virtuous, rather than simply acting in accordance with the natural order of things (which would entail simply inviting the family to share his hut because they are tired and hungry).
Laozi would probably also approve to a lesser degree of Christine's desire to act like a virtuous person would act, because although she's trying to emulate the conduct of a sage, the way of a sage isn't something that can be acquired by assiduous learning or sustained effort. It requires acting selflessly, without regard to whether one can see oneself as acting virtuously.
To know constancy, says Laozi, is to attain enlightenment. It's also to be open-minded, as well as open-hearted. It's to be accommodating, and to work for the good of all (chapter sixteen).
If you are a good walker, according to Laozi, then you will leave no tracks. If you are a good speaker, then you will make no slips or mistakes. If you are good at numbers, then you will not need to count or tally. If you are good at closing up, then you will need no locks or bolts. If you are good at binding, then you will need no knots, and whatever you have bound will not be unbound. Thus, the sage takes care of everyone, and he abandons no one. He takes care of all things, and he abandons nothing (chapter twenty-seven). He works without doing, and he practices wu wei (non-striving or nonaction) (chapter sixty-three).
To practice wu wei is to be pliant and supple, spontaneous and effortless. It is to perfect oneself without thinking about oneself. It is to support others without attempting to gain authority over them. Thus, the sage, by not seeking to be recognized, is recognized. By yielding to resistance, he overcomes resistance. By putting himself behind, he gets ahead. By giving without expecting to be rewarded, he is rewarded. By not seeking to be fulfilled, he is fulfilled.
In the situation that Keller describes, in which Arthur, Benjamin, and Christine differ in their motives for acting virtuously, Laozi would probably most approve of Arthur, who acts more purely out of generosity and compassion than Benjamin and Christine, who act more out of a desire to see themselves as generous and compassionate. Laozi says that the way of the sage is to act, rather than to deliberate about all the factors that might lead him to act. By being reluctant to accept favor and willing to accept disgrace, the sage can act selflessly without regard to his own personal gain, and by caring for others as he would care for himself, he can be entrusted to care for the whole world (chapter thirteen).
Laozi would probably approve to a lesser degree of Benjamin's desire to be generous, because although Benjamin is trying to exemplify a moral virtue, Benjamin is also striving to be virtuous, rather than simply acting in accordance with the natural order of things (which would entail simply inviting the family to share his hut because they are tired and hungry).
Laozi would probably also approve to a lesser degree of Christine's desire to act like a virtuous person would act, because although she's trying to emulate the conduct of a sage, the way of a sage isn't something that can be acquired by assiduous learning or sustained effort. It requires acting selflessly, without regard to whether one can see oneself as acting virtuously.
In this respect, Laozi's approach to acting virtuously may not fully account for the positive ethical contributions that can be made by an exemplarist moral theory, in which virtuous conduct is modeled on moral exemplars. As described by Linda Zagzebski (2017), exemplarist moral theory may serve the same purposes as deontological, consequentialist, and virtue theories, and it may have the advantage of being structured around a motivating emotion--admiration for moral exemplars. It may also have the advantage of serving as a map, rather a manual, for moral decision-making. It may also meet the needs of different cultural communities by allowing them to identify their own distinct but overlapping sets of moral exemplars.4
Laozi does, however, devote a great deal of attention to the conduct of a sage and what it reveals about how we should follow the Way. The sage doesn't brag about or expect to be rewarded for his virtuous conduct. The sage is good at saving things and never abandons things. He remains detached from things, but he still takes care of things. He grasps at nothing and therefore loses nothing. He does nothing, but he leaves nothing undone. At the same time, Laozi introduces the paradox that we should avoid "sageliness" or striving to be like a sage (chapter nineteen), because if we do avoid trying to be sagelike, then we will actually be more like a sage in following the Way.
If we return to Keller's assertion that virtue ethics is self-effacing, then we should also take note of the counter-assertion by Glen Pettigrove (2011) that virtue ethics doesn't necessarily have to be self-effacing. Pettigrove says that self-effacement may be an undesirable quality in an ethical theory, because it may interfere with a theory's ability to provide guidance for action. Self-effacement may also interfere with a theory's ability to train an agent to think about the kinds of things that would be salient for her when she is acting well.5 It may also undermine the ability to love and care for others in the best way, if loving and caring for them in the best way involves loving and caring for them for their own sake, but the theory encourages us to view loving and caring for them as a means to some end.6
Pettigrove explains that in order to avoid the charge of self-effacement, an ethical theory must adopt a pluralist conception of value by accommodating the fact that there may be different ways in which an action may be good. In order for virtue ethics to avoid the charge of self-effacement, it must therefore offer transparent criteria of what makes an action good, by describing various virtues in terms of the goods they acknowledge, respond to, and/or promote. If it does offer such criteria, then it does not have to be self-effacing.7 A virtue ethical theory may therefore avoid self-effacement by providing not only target-centered criteria for good action, but also a practical wisdom criterion of right action (according to which an action is right only if it is what a virtuous person would do who perceived the details of the given situation correctly).8
Derek Parfit (1984) takes another approach to self-effacement by saying that if S is a self-interest theory of rationality, according to which it's most rational for us to act in our own self-interest, then S may be self-effacing if it tells us that it may sometimes be rational for us not to act in our own self-interest. S may also be self-effacing if in some cases belief in it would actually not be in our own best interest, and it would actually be in our own best interest to believe in some other theory of rationality. But if S is self-effacing, says Parfit, then that doesn't mean that S must also be self-defeating, because the aim of S is to be true and to be the best theory of rationality. Thus, self-effacement is not necessarily a theoretical defect, because it doesn't show that S is not true and the best theory of rationality.9
Is Laozi's approach to moral theory self-effacing? If it is, then there may be situations in which the desire to follow the Way is not the best motive for action (on nonaction). But Laozi says, "Everyone knows that when the good strives to be good it is no good,"9 so striving to follow the Way may not be the best way to follow the Way.
To approach the question in a somewhat different way: if Laozi teaches that it is best to avoid being attached to things, are there situations in which avoiding being attached to things may not be the best motive for action (or nonaction)? It may be argued that not all kinds of attachment are bad. For example, personal or emotional attachment to family members, friends, groups, and communities may motivate us to care for and express our concern for them. If we were to always try to remain detached from them, rather than acknowledge our sense of attachment, then we might run the risk of deluding ourselves about the true nature of our emotional investment, and we might not be able to as effectively promote their flourishing and well-being.
However, Laozi also says that the sage never abandons others. He cares for them selflessly, and he puts their needs before his own. He shelters them, and he nurtures and supports them. He acts with humility and with no expectation of reward.
The teachings of the Daodejing may avoid self-effacement with the very first verse: "A Way that can be followed is not a constant Way."10 The Dao eludes self-effacement, because it's pliant and flexible. It's like the stretching of a bow, because whatever is high is lowered, and whatever is low is raised (chapter seventy-seven). It's like a vessel that can never be filled, a wellspring that can never be exhausted. It's a way to cosmic harmony, rather than the way to virtue. It eludes self-effacement, because it reveals that striving to be good may not actually be the best way to be good.
FOOTNOTES
1Simon Keller, "Virtue Ethics is Self-Effacing," in Australasian Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 85, No. 2, June 2007, p. 221.
2Laozi, "Daodejing," translated by Philip J. Ivanhoe, in Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy, edited by Philip J. Ivanhoe and Bryan W. Van Norden (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2023), p. 181.
3Ibid., p. 190.
4Linda Trinkaus Zagzebski, Exemplarist Moral Theory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017), pp. 3-4.
5Glen Pettigrove, "Is Virtue Ethics Self-Effacing?", in Journal of Ethics, Vol. 15 (2011), pp. 192-193.
6Ibid., p. 193.
7Ibid., p. 201.
8Ibid., p. 202.
9Derek Parfit, Reasons and Persons (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), p. 24. Parfit says that we can't assume that the best theory of rationality will never be self-effacing. However, he also says that while the self-interest theory of rationality is not directly self-defeating, because it doesn't tell us not to act in our own self-interest when it is in our best interest not to, it is indirectly self-defeating, because there may be cases in which it is not in our best interest to act in our own self-interest.
10Laozi, "Daodejing," translated by Philip J. Ivanhoe, in Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy, edited by Philip J. Ivanhoe and Bryan W. Van Norden (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2023), p. 173.
OTHER RESOURCES
Laozi, Tao Te Ching on the Art of Harmony, translated by Chad Hansen (London: Duncan Baird Publishers, 2009).
Lao Tsu, Tao Te Ching, translated by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English (New York: Random House, 1972.
