The Virtues of Happiness
Full Title: The Virtues of Happiness: A Theory of the Good Life
Author / Editor: Paul Bloomfield
Publisher: Oxford University Press, 2016
Review © Metapsychology Vol. 20, No. 35
Reviewer: Wendy C. Hamblet, Ph.D
There exist many books addressing the link between the moral life and the happy life, which is hardly surprising given the amount of attention and effort extended to this rich topic across the history of philosophy, beginning with the ancients of both Eastern and Western traditions. What sets The Virtues of Happiness: A Theory of the Good Life apart from previous volumes on the subject is its foundational goal. Paul Bloomfield is here responding to a criticism directed at his first book, Moral Reality, which begins from the assumption that morality is “a practical endeavor tautologically aimed at the fullest possible flourishing of the highest and best aspects of the self or our natures.” Many of us, like Bloomfield, take for granted the faultiness of the classical argument against the virtuous life, raised by Thrasymachus in the opening of Plato’s Republic (1.334c ff.); we tend to believe with Bloomfield that virtues, such as justice, honesty and courage, pay off in an elevated sense of self-worth, which in turn secures true happiness. Bloomfield credits Richard Joyce with reminding him in the review of his first book that his assumption that the moral life is the best alternative is far from obviously true; indeed the history of philosophy is laden with skepticism regarding the assumption that it is in the individual’s best interest to be morally good.
Thus this book sets out precisely to prove the good life to be the best life. It seeks to show through rigorous philosophical argument what many of us feel to be true in our gut: that being good pays off in happiness. Bloomfield is answering the challenge that Plato’s older brother Glaucon poses to Socrates at 358e-359a of the Republic: that doing wrong often gives one the advantage and the sole reason for a citizen’s entering into a “contract” to be fair with others is out of self-interest, because without fair rules in a society, one runs the risk of being badly wronged by others and potentially suffering greater disadvantage than the advantage one gains by wronging others. Bloomfield begins by noting that arguments such as Glaucon’s and Thrasymachus’ do not rest upon an adequate understanding of eudaimonia, which translates as “happiness” but etymologically means something closer to “well-charactered” and thus establishes from the outset of the history of philosophy the firm link between goodness and happiness. Kant extends this connection when he points out that when one disrespects others by treating them immorally, one is also disrespecting oneself. Bloomfield assumes that self-respect is critical to the good life and therefore one must be good to others to be happy in oneself. Thus living morally is not only justified but is indeed the only way of living that bears the fruits of happiness and the “good life.”
Thus clearly something is amiss with the way that classical arguments for and against the good life as the moral life have been conceptually framed. Bloomfield takes on the two primary dialectical opponents to illustrate the problem: the egoist or immoralist, whose first priority is self-interest, believing morality to be the means by which the mediocre keep down superior opponents who would dominate and flourish at their (the mediocre’s) expense; and the moralist, who conceptualizes morality independently of self-interest but insists that morality always ought to trump self-interest. Bloomfield shows the radicalized opposition of self-interest and morality in both these positions to represent a faulty ground from which to make sound decisions about how to best live our lives. Drawing upon the Stoic Hierocles’ “circles of concern,” Bloomfield shows that both positions have too narrow a scope of concern: the pure egoist is concerned only with the innermost circle (full partiality to self), while the pure moralist is concerned solely with the outermost circle, (full impartiality). Arguments can devolve into extremes, but when they do, they have little in common with reality: human life is much more chiaroscuro, overlapping in varied interests, and complex.
Both classical positions (egoist and moralist), argues Bloomfield, rest on a common assumption: that self-interest and morality stand characteristically, and even conceptually, in opposition to each other. Both sides conceive of living the best possible life as a forced choice between poor options—moral concern and self-concern. Even admitting there is a bit of truth to both these extreme positions, the dichotomizing of self-interest and morality works against our ability to be skillful at living well. The problem with both “sides” or poles of this dichotomy is that dealing with life challenges as if they are always conflicts between morality and self-interest is not very helpful for finding the best resolution to the problems that face us. It is critical to dismantle this faulty radical opposition if we are to understand how to best live.
Bloomfield thus sets out to dismantle this shared assumption of the moralists and the egoists. Morality must not be conceptually set against self-interest but instead against making poor choices and thus living badly (or unskillfully as the Buddhists would say). Bloomfield must therefore ask what the harms of immorality are for the person making bad choices; asking “Why is it bad to be bad?” will permit him to illuminate the right motivations for doing good. Thus he rethinks the definition of morality as contrasted to self-interest and instead explores morality and redefines it as: the content of a person’s judgments about what to do and how to live, grounded in one’s virtues or in the particular vision one has of the kind of character one wishes to cultivate. In this new definition of morality, the dichotomy between self-regarding and other-regarding is dismantled and the two concerns are gathered together under the umbrella of “practical moral reasoning.” Now the correct answer to the question, “How ought I live?” cannot help but involve also the question, “How ought I treat others?”
Next, Bloomfield extends the general assumption that morality tells us that we ought to be fair (with others) to include ourselves as one of those others. We ought to be fair to everyone and we are each included as one of the “everyone.” The inclusion of the self in everyone has been underappreciated in the classical arguments that set self-interest over against morality. Now that Bloomfield has established a common dialectical ground from which to launch his argument in favor of the wisdom of the good life, he sets out to answer the skeptics’ arguments against morality as the path to the good life, insisting that care of the self is a matter of self-respect, every bit as important as care for the others.
For those in the field who enjoy a rigorous analytic adventure, this book will offer a satisfying journey through the land of morality and the good life. The style of book, however, does not recommend that will interest the general reader, but is rather meant for the specialist in moral philosophy or the very ambitious graduate student.
© 2016 Wendy C. Hamblet
Wendy C. Hamblet, Ph.D. (Philosophy). North Carolina A&T State University.