June 17, 2010

Not Flushing Toilets vs. The Impartial Spectator

Posted in Intellectual History, Philosophy, Political Philosophy, Society at 8:00 am by Paul Sagar

Amongst all the terrible classes of person, perhaps the worst are those who urinate on toilet seats, do not flush the bowl, and leave the mess for others to find. Although anyone can be occasionally forgetful, those who habitually leave lavatories in such a state are scoundrels. The insult and disgust they cause is only heightened by the sheer laziness lying behind the infliction of suffering on their unknown, unsuspecting victims.

Finding myself in the position of the unsuspecting victim yesterday, I pondered what could be done. Would a healthy knowledge of Adam Smith’s moral philosophy do the trick?

One of Smith’s most innovative and insightful ideas was of the Impartial Spectator, a hypothetical disinterested observer whose emotive reactions to our behaviour we should imagine to ourselves. This allows us to gauge whether our behaviour is morally and socially befitting, or if we are in fact letting selfishness and self-overestimation blind our judgement.

The Impartial Spectator is thus not a million miles away from the “golden rule” of the Gospel: do not unto others what thou would not have done to thyself. But it’s better, because it’s more sophisticated and more flexible, so can cover more situations. For example, the Impartial Spectator is not an indifferent spectator. He does not think (mechanistically and simplistically) that all people should all be treated the same in all cases. On the contrary, if a father were to act and (crucially) to feel in exactly the same way towards his own son as to a child who was a complete stranger the Impartial Spectator would condemn this. Why? Because to a morally well-functioning human being in our sort of society, it is right and normal that fathers feel special affection for their own children. Those that do not are not good fathers, and rightly condemned by the Impartial Spectator.

But equally, fathers that spoil their children are going too far the other way; it is important for children’s own good that they learn to go without, and to accept no for an answer.

Similarly, whilst it is right and proper that a man care for his own financial affairs more than a stranger, or even a close friend’s, the Impartial Spectator will take a dim view of the man so consumed by avarice that he cheats and manipulates his (so-called) friends for profit.

The Impartial Spectator thus becomes a useful point of reference in moral thinking. On the one hand, when contemplating how we should act, he can help guide our decision-making. If I say to myself “what would the Impartial Spectator approve of?”, this can help me suppress my more self-consumed passions, and to sympathise with the concerns and values of those around me, perhaps helping me to take the better moral path. Furthermore, the Impartial Spectator in turn functions as a form of conscience – hence why Smith often called him “the man within the breast”. It is often by adopting the perspective of a disinterested third-party that I realise I have acted in an unacceptable way, and feel shame for my actions.

It seems to me that greater reflection about the views of the Impartial Spectator would help cut out a lot of cubicle offending. If people thought to themselves “what would the Impartial Spectator think of this mess?” before exiting, a fair number of them would see their selfish passions drop and sympathy with others’ having to suffer the mess come to prominence. Organic lavatorial vandalism would, I predict, decrease.

But sadly it wouldn’t end. For there are inevitably some who laugh in the face of the Impartial Spectator, or shrug their shoulders and are non-fussed about the mess they are leaving regardless of the man within the breast.

What can we do about them? Sadly, it seems there is not much we can do – short of toilet-offender-execution-squads, which are probably undesirable for other socio-political considerations.

If somebody really doesn’t care, or actively enjoys leaving a mess in the cubicle, then even the Impartial Spectator isn’t going to help. What we have on our hands are Hume’s Knaves. They do bad things, and they just don’t care so long as they don’t get caught. Lacking the passions to do good things, no amount of pleading or reasoning is going to change that. These sorts of hard-core seat-piddlers are badly brought up people, with poor moral functioning. Lacking the right passions to behave properly, no amount of exhortation or reasoning will work once they are in that cubicle with the door locked behind them.

So come to think of it, maybe the hit squads aren’t such a bad idea after all. Especially if we decide to listen to Hobbes:

“Of all Passions, that which enclineth men least to break the Lawes is Fear. Nay, (excepting some generous natures,) it is the onely thing.” (Leviathan, Ch.27)

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