ABSTRACT

THE TEACHER AS MORAL ADVISER

By

James Douglas Stewart

In the wave of renewed interest in moral education in the
schools insufficient attention has thus far been given to the idea of
the teacher giving moral advice to students. This study is an
attempt at redressing the oversight. Special reference is made to

giving moral advice to secondary school students.

The view is taken that in order to, say what is involved in
giving moral advice it is necessary to explicate the concept of
advising. The first part of the study is devoted to conceptual
analysis. The approach taken is essentially an ordinary language
one. Advising is examined as a speech act (following J. L. Austin).
The main logical features of the concept are identified as are its
main uses. The different kinds of sentences used for giving advice
(e.g. , the imperative, subjunctive and ought sentences) are discussed.
Advising is compared and contrasted with other concepts like recom-
mending, counseling, persuading, and ordering. The connection between
advising and giving reasons is examined; and the general kinds of
reasons appealed to in advising are identified.

The writer claims that advising someone to do something is a_

moral activity. It involves the adviser's taking into consideration

64) James Douglas Stewart

the interests of the advisee; and it satisfies the criteria of

prescriptivity and universalizability. A position in respect of the

nature of the moral domain is thus required and taken.

Two questions are then addressed: "Who can be in a position

to give advice?" and "Who can be in a position to be given advice?"
In answering these questions the writer claims that certain conceptual

conditions as well as certain psychological conditions must be satis-

fied. These various conditions are made explicit for both the advisee

and the adviser. The discussion here draws, in part, on the work of

developmental psychology.
The concept of moral advice is then examined. In giving moral
advice to another it is claimed that ”third party'I interests must be

at least taken into account. The role of moral principles in the

giving of moral advice is discussed. Certain views of moral principles

are criticized. The writer concludes that the view of principles

held by John Dewey is the most apposite for moral advising. The writer

then argues that the secondary school teacher can be in {a good position

to satisfy the conditions for giving moral advice to students. It is

suggested that in giving moral advice the secondary school teacher

generally avoid the use of the imperative sentence.

Can the secondary school student be in a position to receive

moral advice? This depends on the particular stage of moral develop-

ment the student is at. Lawrence Kohlberg's theory of moral development

is examined with particular reference to the stages of development of

the secondary school student. Assuming that Kohlberg stages three and

four are predominate during the high school years the writer shows

James Douglas Stewart

that students at stage three are in the best position to be given
moral advice. It is found that stage four thinking is essentially
incompatible with the concept of moral advising. This leads to some
odd consequences.

Finally, in reacting against John Wilson's study of moral edu—
cation as imparting skills or procedures and not content, it is claimed
that in any sort of moral activity or program in the school, form and
content cannot be divorced. The writer concludes that giving moral

advice satisfies the "form and content" requirement suitably.

THE TEACHER AS MORAL ADVISER

By

James Douglas Stewart

A DISSERTATION

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of Secondary Education and Curriculum

1974

©Copyright by
JAMES DOUGLAS STEWART
I974

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish to express my sincere appreciation to the Ontario
Secondary School Teachers Federation and The Canada Council; and to
my doctoral guidance committee, the members of which were Professors
George 2. Barnett, Ronald Suter and Stanley Wronski, and especially

to the committee chairman, Professor George w. Ferree.

ii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

PREFACE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iv
Chapter

I. ADVISING I . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . l

l.l X Advises Y to do 2 . . . . . . . . 4

l.2 "Advising To" and "Advising That" . . . . . . 28

II. ADVISING II . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39

2.l Implicit Advising Utterances . . . . . . . . 40

2.2 Things That Can Go Wrong . . . . . . . . . 67

2.3 Advising and Other Concepts . . . . . . . . 77

III. ADVISING AND REASONS . . . . . . . . . . . . lOO

3.l The Connection Between Advising and Having Reasons . 100

3.2 Reasons in Advising . . . . . . . . . . . 109

3.3 Reasoning in Advising . . . . . . . . . . l33

IV. ADVISERS AND ADVISEES . . . . . . . . . . . . l40

4. l The Morality of Advising . . . . . . . . . 141

4. 2 Advisers . . . . . . . . . . . . l6l

4. 3 Advisees . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189

V. MORAL ADVISING IN THE SECONDARY SCHOOL . . . . . . 206

5.1 Moral Advice . . . . . . . . . . . . 206

5.2 The Teacher- Adviser . . . . . . . . . . . 238

5.3 The Student- Advisee . . . . . . . . . . . 258

VI. CONCLUSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 282

BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 303

PREFACE

The idea for this study arose from a reading of William K.
Frankena's Ethics, In the second chapter of that book Frankena briefly
alludes to the giving of moral advice in his discussion of ethical
egoism. His point, I believe, is that since (a) an important part of
morality is the business of advising and judging and since (b) the
ethical egoist, by virtue of the tenets to which he adheres, cannot be
said to give advice that is satisfactory and to the point then (c)
ethical egoism seems to be an unacceptable basis for this part of
morality. Such claims raise important questions about the nature of
the activity we call "advising" as well as questions about the nature
of ethical egoism. My immediate response was to the former set of
questions rather than the latter. I thought that if we could get a
clearer notion of what advising is about then we might be able to say
something about the giving of moral advice to people. Since my own
interests are in the study of education and since my teaching experience
has been gained at the secondary school level I further thought that
if we could get clearer about advising we may be able to say something
about the giving of moral advice to young people, notably secondary
school students.

I assumed that within these ideas there was some sort of logical
order in terms of which I could develop the study. Since my end con-

CETWT was with the notion of giving moral advice to students (and the.

iv

teacher's role therein) I took it that my first task was to provide a
conceptual analysis of advising; and that what would follow would then
be adiscussion of moral advice and finally some examination of the role
of the teacher in giving moral advice to students. This basically is
the pattern I follow. The first part of the study, consisting of a
philosophical analysis of the concept advising, covers the first two
chapters as well as small portions of Chapters III and IV. It may
seem to some readers that I am devoting an inordinate amount of time
to conceptual analysis and that I am thereby "dodging" the real issue
of the teacher giving moral advice to students. To these readers I
can only repeat that in order to be on relatively solid ground for a
discussion of the moral advising of students we first need to be clear
about the logical and conceptual features of advising.

When I began this study I was under the impression that little
work of a conceptual nature had been done with the notion of advising.
Although I did not know it at the time I was later to find out that I
was not alone in this view. In the introduction to her Theories of
jflmjg§_Mrs. Philippa Foot writes: "And it is strange that more work
has not been done on such concepts as that of an attitude, and on
'the small (or large?) differences between such things as approving,
connmnding, recommending, advising, praising, evaluating and the like.
It vfill certainly be natural to turn to these topics now that Austin
Inns shown us some ways in, and one feels that this part of moral

[NWTTOSOphy will be found to change for the better, when his work has

been thoroughly absorbed.”1 Actually, prior to Mrs. Foot's writing
this a few philosophers had given some attention to the concept of
advising so that it was, at that time, not entirely unchartered. The
best example, in my view, of an analysis of advising that I have come
across is to be found in David P. Gauthier's Practical Reasoning.
Gauthier devotes two chapters of his book to a study of advising as
prudential discourse and one chapter to the giving of what he calls
"moral counsel." I take these chapters to be an important contribution
to our understanding of advising though I think his treatment of "moral
counsel" is unsatisfactory on the whole. Without going into details
here, the upshot of his discussion on "moral counsel" is a very odd
use of "counsel" and an obscuring of some important distinctions between
counseling, advising and persuading.

There are a few passages in Paul Taylor's Normative Discourse
principally that entitled "Concept of Prescribing" in which advising
is discussed; and P. H. Nowell Smith's Ethjg§_has a short chapter
called "Advice and Exhortation." Then there are a few articles in
philosophical journals which deal in part with advising and these
articles (or most of them) are to be found in a footnote on page 77
of the main text. One other article not listed there but which
deals with certain aspects of advising is B. J. Diggs' "A Technical
(thht" which appears in Mind, Volume LXIL, l960. This article examines
the use of "ought" sentences as a vehicle for giving advice of only a

factual or informational nature-~what I refer to in Chapter I as the

 

. 1Philippa Foot, ed., Theories of Ethics (London: Oxford Unis
vers1ty Press, l967), pp. l2-l3.

vi

"advising that" use of the concept as distinct from the "advising to"
use. Most of these articles as well as the relevant portions of the
above mentioned texts engage in some fairly standard activities in

the analysis of advising such as comparing and contrasting the use of
"advise“ to that of "order," "command," "urge," "persuade" and so on.

I do this, too. But whereas these others do not, I attempt in Chapter
II to analyse the relationships between advising and its closer cog-
nates like recommending and counseling. Moreover there is no attempt
in the above cited materials to examine advising sentences as performa-
tive utterances after the fashion of J. L. Austin (on whose work I draw
for this part of my analysis in Chapters I and II)--though some of the
discussions in the above materials doubtless presuppose it. This means
then that a treatment for example of the "infelicities" that may befall
advice-giving is not to be found in the published materials. I attempt
to help remove this oversight in Chapter II. Finally, I have not

found any discussion which specifies the sorts of conditions for one

to satisfy in order to be in a position to give advice; and similarly
to receive advice. Thus "Who can advise?" and "Who can be advised?"
are two questions I explore in some detail in Chapter IV. My answers
to these questions are to be seen as necessary but not sufficient
conditions for advisers and advisees to meet.

A second impression (in addition to the foregoing one) I had
at the outset of my research was that very little has been written about
Inoral advising in the schools. It seems that words like "advise" and
"advising" are much less commonly used in secondary schools than they

3'13 say in universities where we speak of "academic advisers,"

"residence hall advisers" and so on. The related words which are
commonly used in the schools are "counseling" and "guidance.“ Part

of the reason for the (apparent) infrequent use of "advise," "advice,"
and "advising" seems to be due to a suspicion of advising held by many
school counselors (at least the literature would suggest this). They
somehow think that advising someone to do something is an unjustifiable
interference with the advisee's right to decide for himself what to do.
Indeed some seem to think that to advise a student to do something is
to make up that student's mind for him. I do not think these claims
will bear inspection and indeed I assert that part of the difficulty
we run into here with the notion of giving advice to students stems
from a misunderstanding of the concept of advising on the part of many
counselors. Be that as it may the best article I have found on the
subject of giving moral advice to young people is L. A. Reid's "General
Problems of Guidance in Moral Choice" which is to be found in Ihg

Yearbook of Education, l955. My own treatment of moral advice and the

 

giving of it in the secondary school, all of which constitutes my
lengthy Chapter V, is best summed up in this way. I discuss the con-
ditions for moral advisers to satisfy, with special reference to the
position of the teacher. This discussion is built upon the one in the
previous chapter on the general conditions for advisers to meet (and
points out the need to analyse the concept advising prior to analysing
‘that of moral advising). I argue that some teachers, at any rate, are
ir1 a good position to give moral advice and I give reasons why I think
tfliis is so. I then discuss the question as to who can receive moral

advice and for this part I drawn on Lawrence Kohlberg's theory of

viii

moral development. It seems that a student would have to be at a
certain minimal stage of moral development to be in a position to be
given moral advice. Of course not every student would be at or beyond
this stage. I should point here that these discussions in Chapter V
are preceded by a treatment of the notion "moral advice" in which I
deal with some of the considerations that go into the giving of moral
advice. This part of the discussion, I should add, is tied in certain
respects to the main discussion in Chapter III, namely the discussion
on reasoning in advising. This topic, reasoning in advising, and its
cognate topic, reasoning in moral advising, are the most complex parts
of the study with which I had to deal. Doubtless much further work
needs to be done in these areas.

The title of the study is perhaps slightly misleading; for
the study is by no means a sustained treatment of the teacher as moral
adviser; nor is it a sustained treatment of what counts as moral
advice. Further, references to the school setting are to be found
:wimarily in Chapter V and only infrequently in one or two of the
earlier chapters. However I believe I have given reasons for this
Particular development of the study. It may well be that a follow-up
study could now treat more specifically and in more detail the giving
of moral advice to students. I have been primarily concerned with the
1Ogical structure of advising and the conditions which advisers and
advisees have to meet; and then, secondarily with moral_advisers (in
this case teachers) and students (advisees). If the reader expects to
fhni answers to questions like "What_moral advice can I give to my

studernfl" he (she) will be disappointed for there are no such answers

ix

to be found in this study. This is regrettable, perhaps, but the
particular kind of moral advice that is to be given to some student
can only best be decided in the situation4-that is by the adviser
examining the circumstances and features of the student's moral prob-
lem and by calling upon his (adviser's) own moral experience and
knowledge. My concern here is what the teacher should do, what he
(she) should attend to jn_saying to a student "I advise you to do
such and such." It is not my objective to draw up a list consisting
of pieces of moral advice suited to the secondary school student; nor
is it at all clear that this could even be done in any sort of satis-
factory way.

Finally, in addition to the earlier assumptions which I have
specified, I have also assumed that if moral advice can be given to
young people then the school is one good place where this could be
done, though not the only good place. lBut it does seem reasonable to
suppose that students could get assistance with their moral problems
from (some of) their teachers. This claim further supposes that
young people, at least some of them, have moral problems to begin
with‘which they alone have not been able to solve satisfactorily;
and that some of them are disposed to seek help or guidance from an
adult under appropriate conditions. I do not provide a justification,
in a philosophical sense, for the giving of moral advice in the
school, though in the Conclusions I do touch upon this matter in at
least one respect. But it could not be said that the study provides
a Justification in any full way. The study assumes that moral

advicergiving to students could be justified and proceeds to examine.

the conditions under which such an activity could occur. To get
involved in justifying the giving of moral advice in the school is to
become involved, in a general way, with justifying moral education

in the school, and that is beyond the scope of the study.

xi

CHAPTER I

ADVISING I

My initial task in both this chapter and the one that follows
is to provide an analysis of the concept advising. Since my approach
to this task shall be an "ordinary language" one, essentially, I shall
begin by examining some apparently typical examples of advising. I
have two examples I wish to use at this point. These examples differ
markedly in a variety of ways. First the subject of the advice in one
case bears no relation to that of the other; second the stations or
positions in life of the advisers in each case are quite different; and
third the general background or contexts in which the advice is given
are logically distinct. My first example is taken from correspondence
between a young man, Kenneth Hopkins, who aspires to become a poet and
the writer Llewelyn Powys. The second example is found in the letters
of Lord Chesterfield to his son. In the former example, Hopkins, the
advisee, asks for advice. He wants to know what he should do in order
to write good poetry. In the first quotation that follows shortly,
l’owys gives his response, that is, his advice to Hopkins. In the.
second example, on the other hand, the advice that is given is
unsolicited. Lord Chesterfield's son (the advisee) has not asked his
fattun~fbr advice, rather the father, by virtue of his position gua_

fattun; offers his advice to his son (who is travelling abroad) as,.

shall we say, a matter of duty. Thus we have two different contexts

in which advice is offered. In the former case advice is given by one
person to another because that other asks for it; in the second case,

it is given because of the adviser's special relation to the advisee.

In a later chapter it shall become clear that I am primarily interested,
in this study, in advising situations typified by the first example,
that is cases of giving solicited advice. But for a start at expli-
cating the logical features of the concept it will be important to
approach the task from a "broad base"; thus my reason for beginning

with cases of advising that differ widely in their contextual features.

Exam le 1: I am very pleased that you have acquired that good
ed1t1on of Rabelais-—Sir Thomas Urquart is wonderful with this
translation, he died of laughter at hearing of the return of
Charles II to England. I advise you to read with concentration
and not skim-~choosing only the more outrageous passages as I
used to do as a young man. I would do the same with Andrew Lang's
translation of the Iliad and Odyssey--you cannot give too much
attention to these books. They will have a lasting influence on
your work and lift it out of any provincial limitations. I would
also read Christopher Marlowe very carefully especially Faustus
and Hero and Leander--he will be a great inspiration to you.

. . I would also read Don Quixote very slowly and carefully and
I should keep a notebook near you to copy out anything that
especially hits your fancy . . . . I would be very eclectic in
your reading--I would try to outgrow your taste for writers who
are not quite first rate . . . .

Example 2: While you.have been at Leipsig, which is a place of study
more than of pleasure or company, you have had all opportunities
of pursuing your studies uninterruptedly; and have had, I believe,
very few temptations to the contrary. But the case will be quite
different at Berlin, where the splendor and dissipation of a
court and the beau monde, will present themselves to you in
gaudy shapes, attractive enough to all young people. Do not
think, now, that like an old fellow I am going to advise you to

 

 

 

1R. L. Blackmore, ed., Advice to a Young Poet: The

Englggpondence Between Llewelyn Powys and Kenneth Hopkins (Madison: ‘
Fa1r“le1gh Dickinson University Press, l969), pp. 95-96.

 

reject them and shut yourself up in your closet; quite the

contrary, I advise you to take your share, and enter into

them with spirit and pleasure; but then I advise you, too,

to allot your time so prudently, as that learning may keep

pace with pleasures; there is full time, in the course of

the day, for both . . . . The whole morning, if diligently

and attentively devoted to solid studies, will go a great

way at the year's end; and the evenings spent in the

pleasures of good company, will go as far in teaching you

a knowledge, not much less necessary than the other, I mean

the knowledge of the world.2

We notice in both examples that when the speakers wish to

advise their addressees they use the expression I'I advise you to .. .."
Thus Powys says to Hopkins "I advise you to read with concentration

." and Chesterfield says to his son "I advise you to allot your
time so prudently . . ." and "I advise you to take your share
and . . . ." In both examples one person is advising another person
to do one thing rather than something else by saying "I advise you
to . . . ." It is not however the only way in which advice is given.
Consider the first example again. Here we see that Powys sometimes
says "I would also read Christopher Marlowe very carefully and I
should keep a notebook.near you to copy out anything . . . ."
Evidently advice can be given by using expressions which begin with
'1 would . . ." and "I should . . . ," that is by using expressions
in which the word "advise" does not feature. From a linguistic point
0f view there seems to be a variety of ways open to us by which we

can give advice to another person. This is an important point. If it

can be shown that teachers can (or should) give moral advice to

 

 

2Earl of Chesterfield, Letters to His Son: On the Fine Art of
EgEgfljng a Man of the World and a Gentleman, Vol. IT(New York:
D1ngwmll-Rock Ltd., l929), p. I46.

students it would be unreasonable to suppose that they be constrained
in their advice-giving to one particular form of utterance. It will
be necessary then for me to examine these different utterances--both
those which make use of the word "advise" and those which do not. Our
guess is (at this point) that within the latter class of utterances
itself a considerable variety in grammatical constructions will be
found. This exploration must wait, however. For the moment I wish to
focus on what appears to be the most explicit way of giving advice to
another person, namely by saying "I advise you to . . ." and in particu-
lar I want to elucidate the logical structure of this expression. In
Chapter II I shall take up the case of the other expressions used for

giving advice.

l.l X Advises Y to do Z

 

In analyzing "I advise you to . . ." I shall, following J. L.
Austin, refer to it as a "performative" or "performative utterance."
What does Austin mean by a "performative." Put simply a performative
is the doing of something by (or in) saying something, or it is that in

"3 The classic example of a

which "to say_something is to g9_something.
performative, according to Austin, is “I promise," for in saying these
words I thereby make a promise. Other examples are: "I pronounce,"
u'I Christen," "I bequeath," “I predict," "I order," "I declare," and

$0 on. In each of these cases, to utter the appropriate words is to

 

 

. 3J. L. Austin, How to Do Things With Words (New York: Oxford
Un1versity Press, l970), p. 12. I might add here that while Austin
does not himself provide an analysis of advising he does give us a
mosi: useful framework in which to provide such an analysis as I hope
what; follows will show. Austin's references to "advise" are always
treated as examples (among many) of performatives.

 

perform the act in question (e.g., pronouncing, christening, bequeath-
ing, and so on). Now "I advise" (or more correctly "I advise you") is
a member of this family of performatives. Just as my saying "I pro-
nounce" is my pronouncing so also is my saying "I advise you . . ."

my advising. In saying "I advise" I thereby do my advising. I should
point out however that this characterization of performatives and of

"I advise you" in particular is very imprecise as it stands. For one
thing, the converse of the foregoing claim would not, strictly speaking,
be correct. Thus, though I may be advising you I may not be saying the
words "I advise you." There are other linguistic ways of doing the
same job (of advising) as we saw in Example l a moment ago. It will be
convenient then to refer to "I advise you" as the explicit (advising)
performative and to the utterances in which the word "advise" does not
feature, as the implicit (advising) performatives.4 In Example l,
Powys uses both. Second, my merely saying "I advise you" is in fact
not sufficient for my performing the act of advising--or at least not
sufficient for bringing it off satisfactorily. A number of conditions
would have to be satisfied for this--conditions for which the speaker
(in this case adviser) would be responsible. To see that this is so is
to get somewhat ahead of our account. In the meantime we might, how-
ever, pay heed to Austin's warning that "Besides the uttering of the
\Nords of the so-called performatives, a good many other things have as

a general rule to be right and to go right if we are to be said to

 

 

4In keeping with the stated objective for this present section
I stunl restrict my analysis to the explicit performative.

have happily brought off our action."5 My bare "I advise you" could
be a failure (in some sense) of advising for a variety of reasons
which I shall be considering in due course.

There are a number of "logical" features of "I advise you"
which we must consider but before doing this I want to introduce some
further relevant distinctions which Austin makes later in his book.
These distinctions refer to classification of the different sorts of
actions that involve the uses of sentences, namely the locutionary act,
the illocutionary act and the perlocutionary act. A locutionary act
"is roughly equivalent to uttering a certain sentence with a certain
sense or reference, which again is roughly equivalent to 'meaning' in
the traditional sense."6 This seems to be a common kind of use to
which we put sentences. But we may use locutions on certain occasions
wich a certain force thus generating an illocutionary act. For
instance "It is going to charge” is a locutionary act; but in certain
contexts the sentence by virtue of the way in which it is used could
be a warning to someone and as such it has a force not to be found in
the locution pgr_§g, As Austin puts it "To determine what illocutionary
act is so performed we must determine in what way we are using the

7

locution." An illocutionary act, then, requires a locutionary act as

a base. Warning, along with requesting, ordering, predicting, promis-
ing, proposing and advising are illocutionary acts. Though they are

based on locutionary acts they differ from them in at least this

¥

5Austin, How to Do Things With Words, p. l4.

51mm, p. 100.

7Ibid., p. 98.

respect; the illocutionary act is the performance of an act jg_saying
something, whereas the locutionary act is the performance of an act of
saying something.8 Illocutionary acts are not statements in the sense
in which locutionary acts are. The prelocutionary act, on the other
hand involves the production of some consequence or effect--"what we

9 To say that I persuaded

bring about or achieve by saying something."
you is to say that what I did had some effect on you. Typically per-
suade, deceive, irritate, amuse, impress, distract, embarrass, frighten
and so on are perlocutions. “I persuaded him to take a bath" is a per-
locutionary act whereas "I advise you to take a bath" is illocutionary.
A further major distinction between these two classes of sentence-uses
is that the illocutionary but not the perlocutionary act can be made
explicit by the "performative formula" (to which I shall now turn). In
sum then I shall of necessity be interested in the illocutionary act
since advising falls under that head, and to a lesser extent the locu-
" tionary act since these two acts are related in the way indicated above.
Perlocutionary acts shall not figure in our discussion.

To explicate "performative formula" let us return to our
initial examples and to the explicit advising utterances of Powys and

‘0 In this expression we

Chesterfield, namely their "I advise you to.”
note that the subject and object are both pronouns, the first person

singular and the second person singular (or plural as the case may be)

¥

81bid., p. 99.
91bid., p. 103.
10

At this point I shall focus only on the "advising to" uses of
the concept of advising. In the last section of the chapter I examine
other uses such as the "advising that" use.

respectively. Further we observe that the verb "advise" is in the
present tense indicative active. These two features namely the use of
"I" and “you" in combination as subject and object respectively and of
the present indicative active of the verb are constituents of the "per-
formative formula" and are what help make an utterance like "I advise
you" an explicit performative. As Austin points out however these
features are not absolutely essential to a performative utterance for
it is possible that one could advise another person using the passive
voice of the verb "advise" in conjunction with either the second or
third person (singular or plural). Thus "You are hereby advised to get

1] Further, at

a small pox vaccination" just is an act of advising.
least with some verbs that feature in illocutionary acts, the perform-
ance can be brought off when the verb is in some tense other than
present tense. In the main however, the first two criteria will hold;
they are not however the only criteria we need for characterizing the
performative. To get at these let us bring out some of the differences
that accrue when the pronouns "I" and "you" as subject and object
respectively are replaced in "I advise you to . . ." by other combina-
tions of pronouns. Our discussion will be aided by appealing to the
general form under which "I advise you to . . ." falls, namely X
advises Y to do Z. Our claim is that when "X" is replaced by "I" and
"Y" by "you" we have an explicit advising performative. What happens
to this claim when other pronouns are substituted for "X" and "Y"?

Obviously we get expressions like these: "She advises you to . . . ;

fl

110f the word "hereby" Austin says it is a "useful criterion
tha§7the utterance is performative." How to Do Things With Words,
P- .

"They advise us to . . ."; "He advises her to . . ."; "You advise

them to . . ."; etc. Further we may of course replace "X" and "Y"

with proper names as well as pronouns or in conjunction with pronouns.
Thus we may say "Mr. Powys advises Mr. Hopkins to . . ."; "Lord Chester-

field advises his son to . . ."; "She advises Mr. Trudeau to . . . ;

and so on.

Now there are two important differences between the expressions
I have just generated and our standard utterance "I advise you to . .. ."
The first is that of all those expressions in which the combination "I"
and "you" has been replaced by combinations of other pronouns and (or)
proper names, none can be said to be performative utterances. They are,
instead, reports or descriptions.12 Take for example the expression
"We advises you to . . . ." Suppose you are puzzled by what someone is
saying to you and you turn to me and ask "What is he talking about?"
I might reply, "Well, he advises you to do such and such." Or take the
expression "They advise her to . . ." and then suppose that someone has
just arrived on the scene (as it were). He asks "What's going on here?"
and I reply "Oh, they are advising her to do this rather than that."
In the first case (above) I am reporting to you what another person is
saying to you; and in the second, I am describing what is going on in a
certain situation. But in neither case am I myself advising. My
saying "He advises you to . . ." is ngt_my advising. It would be very

odd indeed if I could advise someone by saying "He advises you to .. ..

So ivhereas my saying "I advise you to . . ." is thereby my advising, my

12The one exception to this is the speaker's using the third
person in a self-referring way; for example, De Gaulle's saying
De Gaulle, he advises you to . . . ." This would not be a report, but

an act of advising.

lO

saying "He advises you to . . ." is not. Depending on the context it
is a report or a description or a stating that something is the case.
The difference between the use of an utterance to report or describe
something (locution) and the use of an utterance to perform an act
like advising (illocution) rests, according to Austin, on a point of
asymmetry.13 This asymmetry comes out in two ways: (a) between the
first person present indicative of words like "advise" and the second
or third person present indicative; (b) between the first person
present indicative and other tenses. When I say "I advise you to .. ."
I am (to paraphrase Austin) indulging in advising. But when I shift
to the third person and say "He advises you to . . ." or to the past
tense and say "I advised you to . . ." I am not indulging in advising,
I am reporting what someone is doing on the one hand and on the other
(likely) reminding you tpgt_1 advised you on some earlier occasion.14
According to Austin this asymmetry is "precisely the mark of the per-

15

formative verb" thus providing us with a third general criterion for

"performative."

 

13Ibid., p. 63; and J. L. Austin, "Performative Constantive,"
Philoso hy and Ordinary Langua e, ed. by Charles E. Caton (Urbana:
Un1vers1ty of Illin01s Press, I970), pp. 25-3l.

14An interesting and apparent exception is my saying "I am
advising you to . . . ." This utterance would normally be used as a
nesponse to the question ”A§g_you advising me to . . . ?" in which
case it is a report of my advising and not just my advising. However
'RY concern in this study is not with questions like "Are you advising
me txi. . . ?" but with questions like "09 you advise me to . . . ?V
This latter is an advice-seeking question; and one perfectly proper
Way! to respond to it is "Yes, I advise you to . . . ." This response
is not a report of my advising; it is my advising. "Do you advise me
to make a will?" "Yes, I advise you to do so."

15

 

Ibid., p. 63.

ll

A further difference between the above family of expressions
that fall under the general form X advises Y to do Z and the explicit
member, "I advise you to . . . ," is one that follows from the fore-
going distinction between the use of these expressions in the second
and third person present (past) indicative to report or describe some-
thing and the use of "I advise you . . ." to advise. Reports and
descriptions as such are always amenable to truth tests. In giving a
report or a description I am stating that something is or is not the
case. Since "He advises you to . . ." can be a report of someone's
advising another we should be able to assign a truth value to it;
whereas in saying "I advise you to . . ." since I am not reporting that
something is or is not the case, nor am I describing anything then my
utterance cannot be subject to truth tests. Suppose the utterance "He
advises you to buy lOO shares of Company A" is your reply to my
question "What did the broker advise me to do?“ Now either the broker
did or did not advise me to buy lOO shares of Company A. If he did
then "He advises you to buy 100 shares of Company A" is true; otherwise
it is false. That is to say, if your "He advises you to buy lOO shares

of Company A" corresponds to a certain set of facts then the utterance

 

is true; if it fails to correspond it is false. This is a perfectly
straightforward treatment of the notion of a report and its truth or
falsity. "'He advises you to . . .' is true (false)" is a meaningful
clainito make. But the notion of correspondence to the facts is,
stnnictly speaking, devoid of meaning in relation to the use of the
perfbrmative "I advise you to . . ."; for what facts could "I advise

you to" possibly correspond to? Since the linguistic act of advising

12

neither corresponds nor fails to correspond to facts then it does not
make sense to say that the utterance "I advise you to . . ." is either
true or false. It is neither. These truth labels simply do not apply.
"'I advise you to . . .' is true (false)" is an unintelligible claim.
This point, by the way, is a separate one from whether the advice one
gives another is good (bad) or helpful (misleading) advice. There are
independent criteria for making these latter sorts of judgments. From
the fact that we cannot attach truth values to I'I advise you to . . ."
it does not follow that we cannot assess a piece of advice as "good"
or "bad." Nor does it follow that the utterance "I advise you . . ."
cannot be assessed in ways other than appeals to truth values (as I
shall show in Chapter II of my discussion of "infelicities" respecting
performatives). In summing up then, some occurrences of the verb
"advise" are performances of the speech act of advising and some
occurrences which are not performances are reports thpt_advising has
been (is being) performed. The foregoing criteria which I have touched
on here helps us to identify or say which occurrences of "advise” are
which.

It is significant that of the classes of substitutions for X
in the locution X advises Y to do 2 which have thus far been identified,
namely, pronouns and proper names, they both function in a unique way--
that of referring to persons. Beyond pronouns and proper names any
word or expression which functions in place of either and which pre-
serves truth values on those occasions when "advise" features in a
sentence giving a report, may also be included in the list of substitu-

tions for X. In place of the "they" as in "They advise me to . . . ,

13

I may, on appropriate occasions put "my friends," "neighbors,“
"relatives," "colleagues," etc., thus rendering the original utterance
somewhat more explicit. Instead of saying "Mr. Trudeau advises us

to . . ." we may say "The present Prime Minister of Canada advises us
to . . . ." These various descriptive phrases which I have just used
for "they" and "Mr. Trudeau," respectively, must be said to fulfill the
same role in the above advising utterances as that of the expressions
they replace. That role, again, is one of referring to persons. Thus
the substitutions which typically are made for X in X advises Y to do 2
to wit, pronouns, proper names and definite descriptions all preserve

the person-referring function of the place-holder X.16

On this very
limited basis we may draw the tentative conclusions that the notion of
person is centrally involved in the giving of advice. I suppose this

in a way is self-evident; but I hope to show why it is important to
demonstrate fairly precisely the nature of the connection between the
notion of person and that of advising, particularly moral advising.

What could be meant by the expression "centrally involved" which

I used in the second last sentence of the preceding paragraph? Is it

the case that when someone is advised that person is normally advised

by another person or necessarily advised by another person? It is a

 

logically necessary condition of advising that advisers be persons (as
the present list of substitutions for X would so far indicate) or is it
nmrely a contingent condition--i.e., that things other than persons

could advise? I propose to approach this matter by rephrasing this

*

6Insofar as proper names are concerned here I exclude those
that do not refer to persons: ”Place Ville-Marie," "Atlantic Ocean,"
"The Empire State Building," etc.

14

last question regarding necessity and contingency in a way which will
extend the theme I have been developing in preceding paragraphs. The
rephrased question is this: What (if any) class of words or expres-
sions (other than the ones already specified) can be substituted for X

in the locution X advises Y to do 2 and which refer, but not to

 

persons? By "can" I mean "what ordinary usage will permit us to sub-
stitute for X." Let us suppose that we could find such a class of
words or expressions which can be substituted for X but which clearly
do not refer to individuals (or groups of individuals). If we could
do this, then I believe we would have shown that it is not a necessary
condition of advising that the adviser, X, be a person-—that the
adviser could be something other than a person though just what that
might be would depend on the particular substitution. I say "not a
necessary condition" because our list of possible substitutes for X
would, by this discovery, be expanded to include not only pronouns,
proper names (and their descriptive replacements), but words or
expressions which do not refer to persons at all. It would thus be
possible to say that there can be advisers who are or need not be
persons. Now why is this point an important one to make? If the above
situation which I have just depicted is possible, then any case for
claiming that the teacher has a role as moral adviser to students is
greatly jeopardized. For if it is merely a contingent matter that
pgp§9p§_advise, then someone might well argue that moral advice should
be given to students not by teachers but, say, by some kind of machine.
After all, there are teaching machines; why not advising machines?

Letting a machine do a difficult job like giving moral advice may have

15

a very strong appeal to many people, including teachers themselves.
We should surely want to know what the effects of such a move as this
would be. But there would be no need to find out if we could show the
move was not logically possible; and this I shall now attempt to do.

In what follows I examine typical utterances in which "advise"
occurs and in which the expressions replacing X appear to function in
such a way as to refer to entities other than persons. If these
examples of advising withstand scrutiny, that is, if they show in fact
that reference to non persons as advisers is being made, then we may
conclude, I believe, that having a pp5§9p_as adviser is merely a con-
tingent condition of advising. In short, then, I am looking for
possible counter-examples in the language of advising which might
destroy my hypothesis that a necessary condition of advising (at least
moral advising) is that advisers be persons.

Suppose, with respect to my Example 2, that Mr. Hopkins says,
"This letter advises me to read with care . . . ." Or suppose someone
says, "This telegram (document, proclamation, notice, etc.) advises me
to do such and suchV; or, alternatively, "I am advised by this letter
(etc.), to do . . . .5 Do not these utterances, in which expressions
like "this letter" are used for X show that advising is possible with-
out the adviser being a person? "This" as in "this letter" unmistakably
refers, but not to a person, at least not on the face of it. But it
would be just as improper to say that letters, telegrams, proclamations,
etc., of themselves advise as it would to say that desks, lamps and
stamps advise--though writers of letters, senders of telegrams and

issuers of proclamations may well advise. So when we say "This letter

16

advises me to . . . ," we mean, I take it, "The writer of this letter
advises me to . . ." or more specifically "The writer of this letter,
Mr. So-and-so, advises me to . . . ." Once the phrase "this letter"

is thus spelled out we see that it consists of a definite description
("the writer of this letter") and a proper name (Mr. So-and-so) both of
which refer to a person and both of which are already included in the
original list of substitutes for X. We must conclude that this present
example has not generated a class of expressions for X that fail to
refer to persons.

But let us pursue the matter further. Many pieces of advisory
communication simply bear the "signature" of some organization, for
example "The Admissions Board," or "The Revenue Department" or "The
Telephone Company." In these cases the persons receiving such communi-
cation would be correct in saying, "The Admissions Board (Revenue
Department, etc.) advises me to . . . ." Here the expressions which
are replacing X doubtless refer, but it is not clear that they refer to
persons. What then is meant by saying that organizations advise? That
will depend primarily on what is meant by "organizations and their
actions." I understand there are two possible interpretations of that
expression.17 One is that an organization in its actions is deemed to

be an individual sui generis. On this view organizations are said to

 

have certain rights and duties, like individuals. They may be praised
or blamed for their actions thus presupposing they are held accountable

for their actions. They may, and have on occasion, been tried by a

 

17See for example, Lawrence Haworth, l'Do Organizations Act?V
Ethics, LXX (l9S9), 59-63.

l7

court of law. They may be punished for their actions by being fined.
Thus we have the notion of organization gpg_corporate person. On the
second interpretation, when an organization acts it is said that these
actions are each reducible to actions of individuals within the
organization. When it is said "The Bell Telephone Company raised its
long distance rates," what is meant is that some ranking official(s)
within the company duly decided that rates will be raised; and that
had no one in the company taken that decision, it could not then be
said that the company had raised its rates. On this second view when
organizations act, certain people in them act necessarily. The action
of a company i§_the action of certain individuals in the company, no
more, no less.18
Now suppose a student receives a notice from the Admissions
Board of a university to which he has applied; and suppose upon reading
it he says to his friend "The Admissions Board advises me to re-apply
at the beginning of the next school year." On the pepppg_view of
"organization" we would take this utterance to mean something like
this: "The Chairman and members of the Board advise me to re-apply
next year"--because as we have seen, it is not, at bottom, that organiza-
tions are said to act but rather certain individuals within organizations.
So when "The Admissions Board" which takes the place of X in the above
advisory utterance is itself replaced by an expression which correctly

indicates that it is individuals in the organization who act (in this

 

 

1an is arguable that the reduction indicated here may not go
through. I tend to think it does however. Despite ordinary speech I
hold that an organization can be said to act only if certain authorized
persons in the organization act.

l8

case who advise) we see that this replacement, namely, "the Chairman
and members" has thereby just the referring function needed for my

hypothesis; and similarly (mutatis mutandis) for utterances like "the

 

Telephone Company (the Revenue Department, the Church, etc.) advises
me to . . . ." In all these cases we see that when the appropriate
replacements for "the Board," "the Company," "the Department," "the
Church," etc., are made none are of a type which fail to refer to
persons--that is none are of a type which do not already appear on

our list of substitutions for X. So the second view of “organization"
at any rate is compatible with the notion of advisers as persons.

The first view on how organizations are said to act is not
uncommonly held, I take it, and I must now briefly examine this rather
more difficult case. Does "organization" on this view present the
counter-example for which we have been searching? I personally find it

difficult to concede that an organization is an individual sui generis.

 

But if I deny this I can see no way of saying (on the first view) that
organizations can advise--because if we deny that organizations are

individuals sui generis what we are left with is a collection of (say)

 

materials and (or) buildings, or some structure at any rate, none of
which can be said to advise; and we cannot say that we are left with a
collection of individuals who advise since this claim directly reduces
the first view of "organization" to the second. Yet ordinary language
makes provision for our saying things like organizations of themselves
can advise. Either we make some sense of "corporate personality" or
defy ordinary use. It seems that the only way to make sense of this

concept is to tie it, in certain respects, to the notion of persons,

l9

and this, of course, is just what is done. But the "tie-in” is
evidently far from perfect. Therefore while we may say that expres-
sions like "the Board," "the Company," and so on as used in "The
Board (Company, etc.), advises me to . . ." refer to a corporate
person the referent gx_hypothesi is not exactly like you and me.
Where then does this present example in respect of the first view of
"organization" leave us? On the one hand we do not have a clear case
of an expression which picks out something other than persons; on the
other hand we do not have a clear case of an expression which refers
to persons. On balance the first view of "organization" leaves us
with a borderline case.

There is one further possible set of counter-examples. I have
in mind the cases where people claim they have been advised to do some-
thing by a "voice" of some sort. Normally the "voice" is rendered as
"my conscience" or as "God" as in "God advises me to do this" spoken
by a religious person. Now both "conscience" and "God" are complex
notions the analyses of which lie well beyond the scope of this study.
I shall circumvent the complexities in the following way by suggesting
that we take "conscience" to mean (at least embryonically) something
like this: "the constraints presently acting on one which result from
the teachings of one's parents or other adults in one's childhood."
Thus for someone who says "My conscience advises me to do . . ." he
would mean "My parents always used to say to me about matters of these
sorts, 'Never do . . .'"; or, "My parents would advise me never
to . . . , and they were right." Our speaker need not be aware or con-

scious of this kind of reflection though under psychoanalysis some such

20

commentary would doubtless emerge. In any event, we would say there
is (wittingly or otherwise) on the part of the speaker an appeal here

to other persons as advisers, in this case one's parents. The voice

 

of his conscience just is the voice of his parents. In essence, thgy_
are still advising him.'9
With respect to the utterance "God advises me to . . ."--and
leaving aside the special difficulties associated with religious
language--we could say of anyone who uses this expression that he (she)
conceives of God as a personal, concerned Being who guides or helps
those who place faith in Him. That is, they conceive of God as a Being
who cares. I find it immensely difficult to imagine someone who, on
the one hand, professes to be irreligious or non-religious but who, on
the other hand, sincerely claims that God advises him. That move is
simply not Open to this sort of person. All this is by way of trying
to show that of those who do say, seriously, "God advises me to
do . . . ," their use of ”God" is such as to refer to a person though
a rather special one-~nonetheless the notion of person is involved. To
say that they use "God" to refer to a being totally devoid of personal
attributes of the kind I have alluded to, would be (to them) to speak

in an unintelligible way. So, of those who can claim to say "God

 

19Could a person be said to advise himself to do one thing

rather than something else? It is not clear that this could be so. A
person could say to himself "I ought to do such and such" but this need
not be a case of self-advising. It could be a command to oneself or

a decision to act, neither of which count as self—advising. Advising
presumes there is some uncertainty, doubt or puzzle about what to do on
the part of the advisee. Self-advising then presumes the agent is

both uncertain and (at least relatively) certain about what to do;

and this seems odd.

2]

advises me to . . ." we can say of them that their replacement for X
refers to a person.

It may be argued that these last two cases, as well as the case
related to the first view of "organization“ do not provide clear or con-
vincing examples supporting my hypothesis respecting the kinds of
expressions that can replace X in X advises Y to do 2. I say they do
not provide clear counter-examples. I am thus led to the conclusion
that utterances which are instances of the locution X advises Y to do
Z must employ expressions for X which refer to persons. Are the conse-
quences of this conclusion plausible? For example the conclusion seems
to render the following sentence meaningless: "The computer advises
me to . . . ." But is it meaningless? I suspect it is not and I would
have thought that at least among computer people (and quite possibly
beyond) the sentence is a rather common one. But if this be so how can
we continue to adhere to the above conclusion. The answer to this I
believe turns on making certain distinctions, primarily the distinction
between the "advising to" use of the concept and the "advising that"
use of it. I discuss this distinction more fully later in the chapter.
Briefly, the "advising that" use of the concept is an apprising use
and in this sense of "advise" there is clearly a place in our language
for being able to say "The computer advises me that such and such is
the case." To the extent that computers give us information they can
be said to advise us in the "advising that" sense. But my concern
primarily is with the "advising to" use of the concept under which falls
the giving of moral advice (as we shall see). To give moral advice is

to advise someone to do something, not that something is the case. Now

22

I think that in some contexts some "advising to" uses of "advise" may
also be stated in the "advising that" terminology, and thence in these
cases we could even say that the computer advises us tp_gp_such and
such. The argument however will not carry over to the giving of moral
advice which, as I said, involves an "advising to" use of "advise."
Moreover to give moral advice by saying, "I advise you to . . ." is to
have a whole way of life behind one (as I shall show) which it does
not make sense to say that computers can have.20
Apart from the qualifications just cited anyone who claims
that he was advised but that no person advised him would be speaking
unintelligibly. We would be quite within our right to protest, "But
someone must have advised you." If he persisted that no one had yet
he had still been advised to do something we would conclude that he
does not understand what it means to be advised; that he does not have
a hold of the concept. Let us take it as settled then that within the
normal range of "advising to" uses of "advise" replacements for X in
advising sentences must refer to persons. Persons advise. However a
person's saying "I advise" is not sufficient for advising. There must,
in addition and among other things, be someone who is advised. It is
time then to focus briefly on the place-holder Y in the locution X
advises Y to do Z. A second necessary condition for advising is that

there be some person, or advisee, of whom we can say receives advice.

 

20An adviser must have features of a person. To the extent

computers may have these features or attributes then maybe computers
can advise too (in the "advising to" sense). We could doubtless con-
ceive of an elaborate and sophisticated computer (or robot) that would
have feelings, interests, imagination and so on. But then we would

be inclined to say that the computer is really just a person. '

23

I do not wish to suggest by "receives advice" that part of what we mean
by "advisee" is one who accepts advice. In this context, "accepts"
suggests agreement or concurrence with the advice given whereas there
is no conceptual connection between “advisee," on the one hand, and_
"agreeing or concurring with the advice," on the other. The more
neutral phrase "receives advice" preserves this distinction but at the
same time leaves open the possibility of the advisee either accepting
or rejecting the advice he receives. Now of anyone who has ostensibly
been advising, it is always possible to ask of that person whom it was
he advised. If he replies, “Oh, no one," we are bound to be puzzled,
unless it is clear from the context that by this reply he intends to
preserve (say) the privacy of a professional adviser-client relation-
ship. In this case, his expression "Oh, no one" is a sign that he in
fact advised someone though whom, specifically, he is not going to say--
all of which is proper enough. But if our adviser seriously and
sincerely maintains that he was advising though there was no one at all
whom he advised, we would conclude that he does not know how to use
words like "advise"; that he too does not have a grasp or understanding
of the concept of advising. If he did, he would see why his utterance
confuses us. He would see why it is necessary that if someone's
activity is to be described correctly as advising, there must be a
person or group of persons of whom we can say he is (or has been)
advising.

There seems to be an interesting and important consequence of
‘uns claim. Many books have been written and published the sole inten-
tion of which is to give people advice on various matters. Here is'a

tYpical passage in such a book:

24

Example 3: In regard to . . . smoking--we would earnestly recommend
every young man not already addicted to it to avoid contracting
a habit that must injure the health, and which is exceedingly
disagreeable to almost every one. Tobacco is a vile and
offensive weed . . . . We see men of intelligence and refinement

. smoking it, with an earnestness that would be really

amusing, were it not that a feeling of disgust quiets the mind
down into sobriety. What the use of it is, no one can tell,
while nearly all agree that it seriously injures the health.21

22 There is an adviser

This, apparently, is a piece of advice.
namely, Mr. Arthur, the author. But can it be correctly said that this
is a case of advising? We cannot deny that Mr. Arthur states in many
passages of the book, typical of the foregoing one, "I (we) recommend
(advise) you (young men) to do such and such." Though he makes these
statements, can pg say of his doing so that this counts as advising?
That depends on whether there are persons of whom we can say they
receive this advice. Since in this case (and others like it) it is
logically possible that no one reads the book (or the relevant
passages in it), and since we have already argued for the necessity of
advisees (in this case readers), it seems to follow that it is at least

logically possible there is no advising here at all; that is, there may

not be any advising in the book Advise to Young Men! Suppose however

 

some people do read Arthur's book but suppose that of those who do no
one is of the category of persons to whom Arthur is addressing himself.
No one of the readers, that is, is (i) a young man and either (ii) a non-

smoker or (iii) a non-smoker contemplating smoking or (iv) a smoker but

 

21T. S. Arthur, Advice to Young Men (Boston: Phillips,
Sampson and Co., l850), pp. l42-l43.

221 am assuming here that recommending and advising are
synonymous. This is not quite correct. See my discussion of the
differences between the two in Chapter II, Section 2.3.

 

25

not addicted to smoking. If these conditions hold, though others read
the passage in question, we could not say that there has been any
advising. There has not been advising because none of the readers
(and thus potential advisees) can be said to be in what I call the
relevant position to receive the advice. To be in ph§t_position for
tpj§_case, the first and one other of the three remaining conditions
just specified would have to be satisfied; otherwise, no advisees,
thence no advising. Thus to say that there are (or have been) readers
of this particular passage is not a sufficient condition for saying
there has been advising.

Does the logic of our argument really drive us this far? If
no one reads a book on advice or if those who do are not in the
relevant position does it follow that the author has not been advising?
To say "yes" surely runs counter to common sense; for the author of
Advice to Young Men certainly took himself to be advising. It was
certainly his intent to give advice and to give it to a specificable
class of people the author had in mind. He could say whom he was
intending to advise and in fact did say by virtue of the description
he gave in the above quoted passage. However the author may not have
achieved what he set out to do. He may in fact have failed at giving
advice in ways I have already specified (e.g., no one reads the book).
The intent-achievement distinction is thus important here. We should
not want to deny that a person had not been advising on the basis that
he was not successful (in some sense). As long as he tried to give
advice and as long as he had some person or group of persons in mind

to whom he directed his advice we should want to say that certain

26

minimal conditions for advising had been met. If only "successful
advising" counts as advising then very little advising could actually
be said to be done. This would be too restrictive and out of line
with ordinary language. Of course the way in which we interpret
"success" in advising is important here too. There are in fact two
successes in advising--one for the adviser and one for the advisee.
The obtaining of one kind of success in advising does not entail the
obtaining of the other kind. The adviser can be successful even though
the advisee is not. But what would this mean? Well, we can say that an
adviser is successful (in one sense of "success") if he satisfactorily
meets the conditions for advising (yet to be fully specified) even
though the advisee pays no need to the advice or fails to achieve what
he (advisee) wants by acting on the advice. Once we make these distinc-
tions it is easier to see that a plausible way of speaking is to say
that advising has gone on (given the adviser's success in the sense
indicated) regardless of the success or failure of the advisee. Thus
though no one reads Mr. Arthur's book, provided he has satisfied the
conditions of advising (which include intent to advise and a specifiable
audience) it still makes sense to say that he was (or is) advising in
his book.

With respect to the component Z (representing the advice) in
the locution X advises Y to do Z, arguments similar to those used with
Y will show the former to be a third necessary condition of advising.
If, for example, you say to me "I advise you," I am entitled to ask,
"Well, what is it you advise me to do?" If you reply, "Oh, nothing, I
just advise you" then I will not be able to understand what you are ‘

saying, For of anyone who says this sort of thing there is a sense in

27

which one is contradicting oneself. One is saying, in effect, "I
advise you but there is nothing I advise you to do."23 This kind of
utterance does not facilitate intelligible communication. Consequently,
if there is no advice, that is, if there is nothing which one advises
another to do when he says "I advise you," there can be no advising.

At this point it is tempting to declare that the three
necessary conditions of advising thus identified are, when taken
together, also sufficient conditions. There are at least two reasons
for not making such a declaration. One is that the entire discussion
has taken place within the confines of the general locution X advises Y
to do Z. Since there are other and differing grammatical constructions
by which one can advise another it would be premature at this point to
claim that an adequate rendering of the concept has been given. The
second reason is that to claim the three conditions are necessary gpg_
sufficient is to claim that advising is just a three-place predicate, no
more, no less, answering to: (i) ppp_advises, (ii) pppm is advised,
and (iii) ppg§_is the advice. While this evidently is correct as far
as it goes, it may turn out that additional conditions are required
such as the specifying of a certain time or place during and in which
advice is to be given if an activity is to count as advising. Thus, it
is possible that time or place predicates be required. On the face of
it these may not seem to be serious contenders for additional predicates

since surely it doesn't much matter where or when advice is given.

 

23Later I discuss a situation where this utterance is not

contradictory. Also it is possible to use "I advise you" in the follow-
ing way without the utterance being unintelligible. Consider: a student
says "Who advises me?" (asking for information). A teacher replies "I
advise you“ meaning "I am your adviser," thus giving information.

28

After all, what would the times and places be in which an aCtivity to
count as advising would have to occur? However, let us not neglect the
ambiguity in the word "when." Usually, a "when" question is calling for
a day, week, month or year as in "When did Columbus discover America?"
But "when" can also refer to the stage or level of one's development

as in "When can one be said to reason morally?" It ppplg_turn out that
on this second interpretation of "when" a fourth (i.e., time) predicate
is required in order that of some activity we can say it is advising.
If, for example, a person is not at some minimal stage of development

it may be that he cannot either give or receive advice.24 So we shall

leave open the matter of sufficient conditions for advising.

l.2 "Advising To" and "Advising That"

I have referred a number of times to these two uses of the
concept of advising throughout the course of this chapter. These uses
are featured respectively in sentences that have the following form:

"I advise you to do such and such" and "I advise you that such and

such is the case." The primary objectives of this section are: (a) to
show that these two uses of the concept are fundamental uses and that
any other uses are derivative from one or other of these two; (b) to
show how the "advising to" use of the concept differs from the "advising
that" use. I shall begin on (a) by listing the standard range of uses
to which we commonly put the concept of advising. In addition to (l)

"advises pp" and (2) "advises that," there are (3) "advises on how to,"

 

24On this matter see the discussion in Chapters IV and V under

Sections 4.2 and 4.3 and Sections 5.2 and 5.3.

29

(4) advises about, (5) advises of the" and (6) "advises." In sentence
form, the construction from (3) to (6) would appear as follows: X
advises Y on how to do such and such; X advises Y about such and such;
X advises Y of the such and such; and X advises Y such and such. I do
not intend that this list of the uses of the concept be exhaustive
though I believe it does include the main uses (and the ones to which I
will limit my discussion). My aim then in (a) is to show that (3), (4),
(5) and (6) reduce to either (l) or (2).
Let us consider the following passage taken from Hilaire
Belloc's Advice.
Example 4: It is strange that the clear and necessary doctrine on
the uncorking of wine should be so little known. Get it firmly
in early wine- drinking and it will make your life the easier.
It is this. Always uncork wine with a Lazy Tongs. Like this
(there follows a diagram in the text). You screw in the screw
with the Lazy Tongs, flat like this (another diagram). Then you
pull at the handle and as it extends like this (another diagram),
the cork comes out, however stiff, with perfect ease, as though
pulled by a giant. . .

Many waste their lives dealing with corks of Fizzy wines--
including ciders. These are corked with a sort of mushroom-
shaped excrescence like this (another diagram). The rule is
to take a sharp knife and cut off the excrescence leaving the
rest of the cork flush with the top of the bottle. Then pull
it out as you would an ordinary cork.25

The author is addressing a Miss Bridget Herbert to whom the
book is dedicated on the occasion of the latter's marriage. Now imagine
an observer reporting as follows: "Mr. Belloc advises Miss Herbert on
ppw_to uncork bottles of wine." You ask, "In what does his advise
consist?" and our observer replies, ”Well, he advises her tp_use Lazy

Tongs, §p_screw in the screw, tp_pull at the handle and, in the case of

 

25
pp.ll-T3.

Hilaire Belloc, Advice (London: The Harvill Press, l960),

3O

fizzy wines, he advises her tp_take a sharp knife and cut off the
excrescence." Notice the shift in the observer's reports from the
first one in which his utterance is in the form (3) to the second one
in which his utterance is in the form of (l). In order to respond to
your question, our reporter has found it convenient to drop "on how"
but retain "to" so that the shift in question is from "advising on how
to" to just "advising to." But, you say, "He could have retained “on
how" and replied to my original question using (3)." Indeed, he could
and in this case his reply would have been as follows: "He advises her
on ppp_to use Lazy Tongs, on hp! to screw in the screw, etc." Yet this
last report, like the first one, gives a very limited account-~50 that
to know 352; Belloc advises Miss Herbert, with respect to using the
Lazy Tongs for instance, we need to say something like this: "He
advises her tp_hold the Tongs with (say) the thumb and two fingers, tp_
place it in an upright position, 39 press or twist one place or way
rather than another, and so on, until an adequate account of how to use
the tongs is thereby rendered.

I believe that we have thus reached the limit here in our line
of reasoning. To show this let us suppose that, having reached the
present point, we now ask our reporter for one more account using
locution (2). His report would have to consist of statements like the
following: "He (Belloc) advises her pp_flpg_to use her thumbs and two
fingers." But this is not very meaningful because, other things being
equal, it is not possible to advise someone on how to perform such basic
unvements like using thumbs and fingers which are already learned at

very early stages of develOpment and long before one can be said to

31

understand what it is to be advised about such matters in any case. So
it turns out that by pressing our man for one more report we get some-
thing not too intelligible; and this is a sign that in our use of (3)
we have gone too far. We avoid this by stopping at a meaningful level
of discourse--that is, at a level where we had a residue of "advising
to" utterances.

My claim is that we can always translate sentences in which
the expression "advises on how to" features into sentences in which
just the "advises to" use features. Schematically we may represent this
in the following way: "X advises Y on how to do Z" becomes, on analysis,
"X advises Y to do 2]“; to do 22; . . . to do Zn" (or some subset there-
in). Here we see that the sentence to be analysed reduces to a con-
junction of sentences in which only the "advises to" use of the concept
appears. Thus of sentences like "X advises Y on how to do 2" it can
always be asked "What is it that X advises Y to do when he advises Y
pp_ppp_to do Z?"; whereas with respect to the sentence "X advises Y to
do Z" such a question would evidently be redundant. For the use of "X
advises Y to do Z" would just be the answer to the question. Thus (l) is
a more basic use of the concept of advising than is (3)--more basic in
that (3) can be seen to reduce to (l) in the manner just indicated.
There is another sense in which (1) is more basic than (3) and this
sense is brought out by trying to force (3) into the mold of the per-
fbrmative formula. We know, of course, that (1) fits the mold eminently;
mn:putting (3) into it yields the following locution: "I advise you on
how to do such and such." This is extremely awkward and I am inclined

to Hfink that it does not have a use in the language; that is, I am

32

inclined to think that in this use of (3) the replacements for X and Y
(subject and object) cannot be the combination of "I" and "you,"
respectively, though combinations of other pronouns are possible here.
In short (3) seems to have this restriction on its use which (1) does
not.

Suppose Mr. Whitlaw (the British cabinet minister assigned to
Northern Ireland) has just returned to London to consult with Mr.
Heath, the Prime Minister.26 Suppose further that the London papers
carry the following account: "Mr. Whitlaw is advising the Prime
Minister 399p; the latest developments in Northern Ireland." This
could be taken in one of two ways. It could be that when someone says
he is advising someone else about something the former is advising the
latter tp.do one thing rather than another. It could be, in the above
example, that Mr. Whitlaw is advising Mr. Heath “about" Northern Ireland
by advising him "to“ (for instance) increase the number of British
forces stationed there. But more likely, he is advising Mr. Heath about
the Northern Ireland situation by advising him (for instance) tpgt_the
I.R.A. is mounting a new offensive, tpgt_twenty civilizns were killed
this past week, tpg§_Mr. Paisley is making new demands, and so on. In
short, it is more likely that by advising the Prime Minister gpppt.
Northern Ireland, Mr. Whitlaw is giving Mr. Heath certain pieces of
information--that he is apprising him of the situation there. Indeed,
it could be the case that Mr. Whitlaw's advising Mr. Heath about

Northern Ireland in the sense of advising that such and such is the case

26I devised this example when Whitlaw and Heath were holding

the positions indicated.

33

is preparatory to his advising Mr. Heath in the "advising to" sense,
though it need not be. I believe this discussion shows us that
utterances like (4), namely, "X advises Y about Z" do not have a life
of their own, so to speak, since on analysis they turn out to be
utterances either of the "advising to" type or, more likely, of the
“advising that" type. Just as (3) may be cashed out in terms of (l)
by a conjunction of "advising to" sentences so also may (4) be cashed
out in terms of (2) by a conjunction of "advising that" sentences.
Sentences of the form X advises Y about 2 are, of themselves, not what
we would call "basic."

Sentences in which the "advises of" use of the concept of
advising features can, I think, be readily seen to be an alternative
way of expressing the "advises that" use. Thus "X advises Y of the Z"
(5) reduces to "X advises Y that Z" (2). For example the sentence "His
broker advises him pf_the risks involved" would normally be taken as
giving information or apprising someone of a situation that exists or
is likely to exist. Finally utterances that employ (6) such as “X
advises Z" are truncated versions of utterances that employ (1). Take,
for example, the following sentences: "He advises immunity“ or "He
advises secrecy." The full-blown version of these sentences is nothing
more nor less than (for instance) "He advises you to adopt a policy of
secrecy." We could attempt reducing "He advises secrecy" to "He advises
you tpp§_secrecy is the best policy." But I think this is readily seen
to be no more than "He advises you tp_adopt a policy of secrecy." For
the "that" clause obviously contains a recommendation which at bottom

requires an "advising to" use of the concept of advising. Utterances

34

of the "advising that" type are sui generis provided the "that" clause
does pp§_contain a recommendation, either explicitly or implicitly.

In response to our objective, (a), of this section I conclude
that (3) and (6) reduce to (l) and that (4) and (5) reduce to (2). It
does not follow that (3) to (6) inclusive fail to have an important
place in advising nor does it follow that on each occasion of their
uses must we think of cashing them out in terms of either (1) or (2) as
the case may be. The uses of each of (3) to (6) may be given their own
descriptive labels. For example (6) is a good locution for expressing
a warning; whereas (4) is good for expressing an opinion. But in some
contexts (5) could also be a warning and (3) an opinion. In short, what
identifying these various locutions of advising amounts to (and helps us
to see) is that as a concept advising has a fairly substantial range of
uses; and that in the final analysis they are (or can always be)
expressed in one or other of the two basic forms I have identified as
(1) and (2).

What is the nature of the conceptual distinction between (1) "I
advise you to do such and such" and (2) "I advise you that such and such
is the case"? We note that the combination of the pronouns "I" and "you"
features in both as subject and object respectively. So there is some
resemblance of (2) to the performative formula. The only apparent dif-
ference in the construction of the two sentences is that (l) makes use
of “to do" whereas (2) makes use of "that." But both sentences are set
in the present indicative active of the verb "advise." Does this mean
then that (2) is a performative utterance like (1). In saying "I advise

you that the enemy has surrendered“ do I thereby advise you as I do by

35

saying "I advise you to surrender"? In saying "I advise you that the
enemy has surrendered" I am giving you information or reporting to you
on a certain state of affairs (reporting that the enemy has in fact
surrendered). Thus is it not the case that to say "I advise you that the
enemy has surrendered" is thereby to report; and since to report is to
gp_something then am I not doing something py_saying something, that is
by saying "I advise you that . . ." making this utterance a performative?
I do not think that Austin ever resolved this sort of puzzle. If we say
that by uttering "I report that . . ." or "I state that . . ." I thereby
report (or state) we would have to concede that "I report that" is a
performative (hence also is "I advise you that . . ."). To concede this
however is to erase the performative-constative distinction one conse-
quence of which would be that truth values would no longer cease to
apply to utterances like "I promise" and "I advise you to." That being
the case it would no longer be meaningless to say that "'I advise you

to surrender' is true." But on the other hand it is not clear exactly
what it would mean to say that either. So if we include utterances

like "I report that . . ." or "I advise you that . . .” in the performa-
tive category we have to live with the consequences of so doing (and I
am not sure that Austin was prepared). For purposes of this study I
shall take it that "I advise you that . . ." is not performative. This
enables us to make the following sensible claims. First, to say "I
advise you to surrender" is to make explicit the action which the
utterance is, namely advising, which is not the same thing as to state
that it is that action, nor to state Egg; it is anything; whereas to

say "I advise you that the enemy has surrendered" is to state that

36

that something is the case. Moreover since this latter is a report and
if in fact the enemy has surrendered then we could say that the utter-
ance "I advise you that the enemy has surrendered" is true, otherwise it
would be false. Thus sentences in which the "advising that" use of the
concept of advising features are subject to truth claims whereas
sentences in which the "advising to" use features, are not.

With these distinctions between "advising t6 and "advising
that" in mind we may now re-assess an earlier tentative conclusion I
drew with respect to the contradictoriness of "I advise you but there
is nothing I advise you to do." If by "advise" in its first occurrence
here we mean "advise that" or "informs" or "apprises" then it is clear
the sentence is not contradictory. For on this interpretation it would
read as follows: "I advise you that such and such is the case but there
is nothing I advise you to do." In advising someone that something is
the case we are not thereby committed (logically) to advise that person
to do something. Thus I can apprise you of a situation without at the
same time advising you to do anything and not be inconsistent in what I
say. Of course, if by the first occurrence of "advise" in the above
sentence we mean "advises to," then the sentence is contradictory.
Though in apprising (advising that) I am not logically advising someone
to do something, does the converse of this hold. That is, if I advise
you to do something do I thereby apprise you of something? When I use
an l'advising to" sentence I presuppose that certain things are the
case or that certain conditions have obtained but by "presuppose" I do
not intend a meaning connection between "I advise you to . . ." and

"such and such is the case." For example in saying "I advise you to.

37

surrender" I presuppose that you have not already surrendered and that
you're in a position to surrender (i.e., that you are in a context in
which "surrendering" makes sense). But I am not reporting that you
have not surrendered; I am only presupposing it. These presupposed
conditions, the knowledge of which is the responsibility of the adviser
if his advising is not to be "unhappy" to use Austin's term, is a sub-
ject I discuss in the next chapter so I will not comment further on

the matter here.

Two further qualifications regarding the distinction between
"advising to" and “advising that" are in order. One has already been
touched upon and it involves the constituents of the "that clause" in
sentences of the kind "X advises Y ppgt_. . . ." Consider the following
example: "Moore's health was quite good in l946-47, but before that he
had suffered a stroke and his doctor had advised that he should not

become greatly excited or fatigues."27

Ostensibly this is an "advising
that" use of the concept, but the "that" clause contains the expression
"he should not become . . . ." Thus the doctor's advising is not a
report as it might have first appeared but a recommendation to Moore

to remain rested and relaxed. The occurrence of "advises that" is not

a genuine one by virtue of what follows in the "that" clause. Here then
is a case where, in a sense, "advising that" reduces to "advising to"
though the reduction is really a hollow one; for "advises that one

should do . . ." is just "advises one to do . . . ." For a second

qualification let us suppose that I am vacationing in one of our

 

27From Norman Malcolm, Wittgenstein: A Memoir, quoted in R. W.
Beardsmore, Moral Reasoning (New York: Shocken Books, 1969), p. 22.

 

 

38

national parks and that I ask the park attendant at the main entrance
"What is the most scenic route to take in the park?" Suppose he
replies "I advise you to take Route A rather than Route B." From this
reply I am informed (apprised) EDEE the prettier, more scenic route

is A, not B. In the attendant's advising me what tp_gp_he has also
told me tppt_something is the case. I now know something I didn't know
before. How does this case differ from my claim of a moment ago that
sentences like "I advise you to surrender" only presuppose Certain
things obtain, and do not actually give information? The difference is
just this. In saying to me "I advise you to surrender" you are not
giving me any information. You are not telling me that I have not yet
surrendered or that I am in a position to surrender for I already know
these things. I am not therefore being informed by your saying "I
advise you to surrender" as I am being informed by the attendant's
saying “I advise you to take Route A rather than Route 8." (Though,
admittedly in saying "I advise you to surrender" you presuppose there
are reasons why I should.) So in some contexts it will be the case
that an "advising to" sentence informs us of something or of some
situation. However the basic distinctions between "I advise you

to . . ." and "I advise you that . . ." still hold.

CHAPTER II

ADVISING II

At the outset of the first chapter I claimed, following Austin,
that "I advise you to . . ." is an explicit performative utterance and
much of Chapter I was devoted to an examination of this particular
utterance. There are, however, other linguistic expressions which do
not have the word "advise" in them but which are nonetheless used to
advise another person to do one thing or another. These expressions
are what I believe Austin would call "implicit performatives."1 The
first section of this chapter is devoted to a study of the uses (and
logic) of some of these implicit advising utterances. My second objec-
tive in this chapter is to examine some of the different ways in which
the utterance "I advise you to . . .“ and its implicit counterparts can
go wrong (misfire) or be abused by the speaker. Austin refers to these
misfires and abuses as “infelicities.”2 Finally, I propose to examine
some of the relationships between the concept of advising and other
concepts like ordering, recommending, persuading and in particular

between advising and counseling.

1Austin, How to do Things with Words, p. 32.

21bid., Lectures II, III and IV.

39

 

40

2.1 Implicit Advising Utterances

Suppose that a certain person is in my house and that I wish to
get rid of him. I could order him to leave simply by saying, "I order
you to leave this house 39!?" But I could also order him to leave
without making use of the explicit performative "I order you." For
instance I could say, "Get out!" or "Please leave!" or "Ypp_are not
welcome here!" In saying "Get out!" etc., in this context I am doing
the job I would be doing if I were to say "I order you to leave this
house!" "Get out!" is an implicit performative. Now I want to show
that like ordering someone to do something, the job of advising someone
to do some thing or other can be accomplished in different ways using
linguistic expressions of various kinds and constructions. To see this

let us examine the following examples of advising.

Example One: When you come to college . . . (you) are what your
environment and your elders have made you. Your ideas are not
your own. The first thing you must learn is to stand on your
ideas. This is why you should not take us and our ideas too
seriously. Broaden your horizon so that as you become more and
more able to take care of yourself you will move intelligently.
Do considerable mental visiting in your first years of college.
Try to encounter the major points of view represented on the
faculty and among the students. Entertain them the more
seriously they differ from your own. . . . In gaining this
(liberal) perspective you must come to know the nature which
surrounds and compels you, the society with which you must live
and cooperate, the creative spirit which is your heritage, and
the tools of language and of thought.3

Exgmple Two: Now if poets would only give up their habit of ridicu-
lous exaggeration and put things reasonably people might pay
more attention to them. Is it judicious, I ask you, when trying
to describe a sunrise over Westminister Bridge to start off by

¥

3Roger W. Holmes, "What Every Freshman Should Know,“ Iflg_
HQQern Omnibus, ed. by Franklin P. Rolfe, William H. Davenport, and Paul
Bowerman (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1946), pp. 280-281.

41

saying ”Earth has not anything to show more fair"? It puts
the reader at once in an argumentative mood. He says to him-
self . . . "Come, come, now, it's all a matter of opinion."4

Example Three: Besides reading, a young man ought to write, if he
has the capacity and leisure. If you wish to remember a thing
well, put it into writing . . . for the eye greatly assists the
mind. . . . A Journal should be kept by every young man. Put
something down against every day of the year. . . . You will not
have done this for one year without finding the benefit of it.
It disburthens the mind of many things to be recollected; it is
amusing and useful, and ought by no means to be neglected.5

Example Four: You will never write a good book until you have written
some bad ones. . . . You must go through the mill, . . . and you
can't possibly start too soon. Write a thousand words a day for
the next five years at least nine months every year. Read all the
great critics. . . . Get a ticket for the British Museum reading
room, and live there as much as you can. Go to all the first-rate
orchestral concerts, and to the opera, as well as to the theatre.
Join debating societies and learn to speak in public. Haunt
little Sunday evening political meetings. . . . Study men and
politics in this way.

Example Five: You shall privately every morning before you go out of
your chamber upon your knees say the Lord's Prayer . . . otherwise
you shall offend God. . . . You shall also repeat the Creed and
then humbly and heartily thank Him for your creation. . . . You
shall do well to get some small commentary of the Psalter and
after your prayers to peruse the exposition of all dark and hard
speeches for which you may procure Hominius; you shall also do
the like procuring some shorter exposition of the words of the
New Testament and Old, daily perusing the hard places. . . . You

shall do well to be present with attention every sermon that you
hear being preached.

 

4Jan Struther, "A Plain Man's Advise to Poets,” A Pocket Full
of Pebbles (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co., 1946), p. 80.

5William Cobbett, "Advice on Reading and Writing," A Book of
Essays from Montaigne to E. B. White, ed. by Homer Combs (New York:
Charles Scribner and Sons, 1950), pp. 154-155.

 

6Bernard Shaw, Advice to a Young Critic (Letters 1894-1928)
(London: Peter Owen Ltd., 1956), pp. 18-19.

7William Cecil, "A Memorial for Thomas Cecil," Advice to a Son
(Precepts of Lord Burghley, Sir Walter Raleigh and Francis Osborne),

ed. by Louis B. Wright (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1952),
pp. 3-5.

 

42

Example Six: As to your studies . . . I wish you to learn Latin,
French, and dancing. I would insist upon the last more particu-
larly, both because it is more likely to be neglected, and
because it is of the greatest consequence to your success in
life. . . . Another thing I would caution you against is not to
pore over your books until you are bent almost double. . . . A
st00p in the shoulders sinks a man in public and in private
estimation. . . . I would wish you to make it a rule never to
read at meal times. . . . I would have you, as I said, make
yourself master of French because . . . ; and I would have you
learn Latin partly because . . . .8

In these examples we have a number of different ways in which
the various speakers give advice to their listeners. I shall list some
of these. First, one seemingly popular construction used for advising
is the imperative sentence. Thus we find the following: "Broaden your
horizons . . . ," "Do considerable mental visiting . . ." and "Try to
encounter the major points of view . . ." (Example One); "Put something
down against every day of the year" (Example Three); "Write a thousand
words a day . . . ," "Go to all the first-rate orchestral concerts . . ."
and "Join debating societies and learn to speak in public" (Example

Four). These we may call explicit or clear uses of the imperative

sentence since each beings typically with the verb in the imperative

mood--"Broaden . . . ," "Do . . . ," "Try . . . ," "Put . . . ,"

”Write . . . ,“ "Go . . . ," "Join . . . ," and so on. Second, another

grammatical mood which recurs in these examples of advising is the sub-

junctive. For instance in Example Two the speaker says "Now if poets
would only give up their habit of ridiculous exaggeration . . ."; and

in Example Three, "Another thing I would caution you against is . . ."

8William Hazlitt, On the Conduct of Life; or, Advice to a
School Boy," Unseen Harvests: A Treasury of Teaching, ed. by C. M.
$3255 and E. S. Basford (New York: The Macmillan Co., 1947), pp.
-396.

 

43

and "I would wish you to make it a rule never to . . . ." These I take
it are (or can be construed to be) commonly used variations of the sub-
junctive sentence "If I were you I would do . . . ." Thus "I would
caution you against . . ." is another way of saying "If I were you I
would not do . . . ." Third, there is the rather frequent use of the
words "ought" and "should" in the above examples. In Example One for
instance, the speaker says ". . . you should not take us and our ideas
too seriously"; and in Example Three he says "Besides reading, a young
man ought to write if he have the capacity and leisure . . . . A
Journal should be kept by every young man."

These are three fairly recognizable categories or types of
sentences which we can readily use on certain occasions for advising
another person to do one thing rather than another. But there are
other expressions in these examples which we also use to advise. We
notice for instance the use of the word "must" as in "The first thing
you must learn is to . . ." (Example One) and "You must go through the
mill . . ." (Example Four); also the word "wish" as in "If you wish to
. . . (then) . . ." (Example Three) and "I wish you to . . ." (Example
Six). Then there are expressions like "You shall do well to . . ."
(Example Five), and like "I would insist upon . . ."; "I would have
you . . ." (Example Six); and finally "You will never . . . until you
. . ." (Example Four). Now I think most of these expressions can be
accounted for by one or other of the three categories or groupings

identified briefly in the preceeding paragraph with the possible

44

exception of the conditional sentence.9

Certainly the utterance "If
you wish to . . . (then) . . ." seems to fall in this last category
as does (or could) "You will never . . . until you . . ." as well as
some of the uses of "must." Actually I think the utterances using
"must" are somewhat ambivalent on this matter and they could be con-
strued either as a conditional sentence or as a non-hypothetical
imperative sentence depending on the context in which they are used
(including the way the speaker utters these particular statements).
As for expressions like "You shall do well to . . ." these typically
can be translated, without loss, into "You ought to do . . ." although
depending again on mannerisms, tones of voice, etc. of the speakers
they could be more like an imperative sentence when it is used to

command. Next, the expressions "1 would insits upon . . ." and "I

would have you . . . ," while they have a prima facie resemblance to

 

the subjunctive might in some contexts at least, be slightly too strong
for that mood and thus more appropriately taken as an imperative
sentence. These expressions which I have just now identified as vari-
ations on some of the standard categories are by no means exhaustive

of such variations. Although none of the six examples of advising make
use of them, expressions such as "If I were you I should do . . . ,"
"You would do well to . . ." and "The best thing for you to do is . . ."
are commonly found in advising contexts and normally perform the
(advising) function of "You ought to do . . . ." Finally there are

utterances like "I urge you . . . ," "I suggest . . . ," "I

 

9Since the subject of the conditional sentence is briefly
exPlored in Chapter III I shall not comment further on its use (to
adv1se) here.

45

recommend . . . ," all of which are commonly used in an advising
capacity. In Section 2.3 of this chapter I show why "recommending"
for instance, is a good substitute for "advising" in many of its con-
texts. So all these grammatical expressions so far discussed or
mentioned are acceptable ways of answering the typical advice-seeking
question "What shall (ought) I do?"

To summarize, apart from the explicit advising utterance ("I
advise you to . . .") and the conditional sentence, there appears, from
the point of view of ordinary usage, to be quite a variety of expres-
sions we can use for advising another person to do this rather than that
though in what follows I focus on only three, the use of (l) the
imperative sentence, (2) the subjunctive sentence, and (3) the ought
sentence. Now, I do not conceive of these categories as rigorously
tight ones. The likelihood that many of the advising utterances just
examined could, under suitable circumstances, fall in more than one of
these groupings is too great for such a conception to hold. An
evident subjunctive sentence like "I would caution you against . . ."
could in some contexts do the job of advising someone just as well if
it were simply said as an imperative “Do not do . . .“ and an ought
sentence can function as an imperative, and so on. To put matters
metaphorically, we need to conceive of the above three categories in
such a way that a certain flow back and forth across them is permissable.
I have already implied that the "rate of flow" across these classifica-
tions is a function of contextual features. On the whole, the cate-
gories (l) to (3) are much more heavily context-dependent than is “I

advise you to . . . ." In any event we need to conceive of the

boundaries marking off these categories as porous rather than opaque.

46

To simplify matters somewhat for the following discussion I
shall use paradigm characterizations of (l) to (3) rather than any of
the many variations on these which we may find in the above six
examples of advising or elsewhere in common speech. These paradigms
(clearest statements) are as follows: (1) "Do such and such" (the
imperative sentence); (2) "If I were you I would do . . ." (the sub-
junctive sentence); and (3) "You ought to do . . ." (the ought‘
sentence). The question I propose to explore at this point is this.
Recognizing that each of (l) to (3) can have a number of different
uses10 in the language what is it that makes these constructions
appropriate or suitable for use in advising another person to do one
thing rather than another? I answer this question in the following
way: Must it not be that the logic of the constructions (l) to (3) is
either compatible with or makes provision for at least some of the
logical features associated with the explicit advising utterance "I
advise you to . . ."? I turn now to explain what I mean by this
hypothesis.

In Chapter I I examined many, though not all, of the logical
features of "I advise you to . . . ." There I said that in the general
advising locution X advises Y to do 2 an explicit performative utterance
is generated by replacing "X" with the first person pronoun "I", and
"Y“ with the second person pronoun "you" given that the tense and mood
of the verb "advise" is present indicative active. The first logical
point then is that, in advising, it is the "second person" that is

directly addressed by the speaker or adviser so that advising utterances

 

10See pp. 52-57.

47

have an affinity for that person. The second logical point is this.
When I say "I advise you to . . ." I do not state or report ppp§_l am
advising you rather I thereby perform the act of advising you. So

"I advise you to . . ." is, strictly speaking, non fact-stating though
as we shall see in Section 2.2 it presupposes that certain states of
affairs have obtained. The third logical feature, and one which is
related to the first, is that we cannot advise someone to do something

by using our explicit advising utterance in the past tense.11

To be
sure I can say "I advised you to . . ." but I am not thereby advising
you. I am stating that something is or was the case. "I advised you
to . . ." is not a performative utterance. The fourth point, and one
which is related to the second, is that "I advise you to . . ." can be
neither true nor false because it does not state or report anything
though it presupposes that certain other statements are either true or
false. The fifth point is that the performative "I advise you to . . ."
has to do with human action, primarily that of the advisee (the second
person). This point rests on the distinction between the two funda-
mental uses of the concept advising, namely the advising "to" or action
use and the advising "that" or informing use of the concept. These I
believe are the five main logical features of "I advise you to . . ."
which were covered in the last chapter.

There are additional logical features which I have not yet

mentioned in this study, two of which I shall discuss now. The first

of these is that the use of our explicit advising utterance presupposes

HThough it is possible to advise someone using the passive .
voice: "Passengers are advised to have their passports stamped before
chsembarking." See Austin, How to do Things with Words, p. 57.

 

48

the presence of alternative courses of action Open to the advisee and
from among which he may choose one to follow. There would be something
extremely puzzling about my advising you to do A rather than B if in
the circumstances A is the only possible course of action open to you.
I could tg11_you to do A but it would not make sense to say that I
could gggi§g_you to do A. $0 "I advise you to do A" is always
elliptical for "I advise you to do A rather than B or C . . . ."
Moreover, unless there are other possible courses open to an advisee

we will not be able to make much sense of the claim that there are

12 A

always reasons for advising a person to do this rather than that.
second additional logical feature of our explicit performative and one
which follows from the foregoing one is that in saying to someone "I
advise you to do A" you are not thereby deciding for that person to do
A. Barring special explanations to the contrary, as in the case of
young children for example, no one can decide for another person what
that other is to do. The decision tg_§gy to someone to do this rather
than that (i.e., to advise him) is the adviser's. The decision §g_gg_
this rather than that is the advisee's. There is, in other words, a
logical gap between the utterance "I advise you to . . ." and your
deciding to do one thing and not another to the extent that you are not
logically committed to deciding to do or to doing what one advises you
to do. You are, ggg_advisee, free either to accept, reject or modify
the advice you are given and to act or not act on it as the case may be.

These decisions are yours. Now this account rules out the possibility

that a causal connection obtains between "I advise you to do X" and

 

'21 devote Section 3.1 of Chapter III to this point.

49

your doing it. The utterance "I advise you to do X? of itpglj_cannot
cause (make, induce, etc.) you to act though admittedly when it is
uttered by certain persons in certain ways it is possible that these
latter conditions be contingently sufficient to get the advisee to do
just what he was advised to do (and without thought or reflection on
his part). Suppose for instance, that an adviser has a particularly
gruff mannerism or that he speaks forcefully and authoritatively
thereby inducing fear in his addresses. Then pi§_saying “I advise you
to do X" could cause you to do it. The casual factor is not what he

says but how he says it.13

But then if you felt compelled to do X
because of pj§_saying "I advise you to do X" you could not correctly
be described as "being advised." People who are threatened or forced
to do something as a result of the way in which another addresses them
are not free to decide what to do in that situation.

The point about the logical distinction between the adviser's
"I advise you to do X" and your deciding to do or not to do X can be
brought out in another way--one in which a reference to notions of
responsibility and excuses is made. Suppose you are being blamed for
doing something which you had been advised to do. You might think
that you could dodge being held responsible (or plea for non-
responsibility) by saying "It's not my_fault. He advised me to do X."
But this will not excuse you. The utterance "He advised me to do XV

does not function in an exonerating capacity; and the reason for this

is that the use of "He advised me to do X" presupposes one's being free

 

13These matters are important for the teacher who acts as moral
adviser and I shall discuss them again in that context.

50

either to follow or reject the advise one receives. It was your
decision to do X and you could have decided differently. You were not
compelled to do X by the fact that you were advised to do X. But sup-
pose instead you had been compelled then your saying "It's not my fault;
he made (commanded, forced, etc.) me to do X" would work in favor of
your exoneration. This is just a difference between forcing someone to
do something and advising him to do it. "He made me do X" is excusing
whereas "He advised me to do X" is not. So advisees, in the light of
the advice they receive, are necessarily held accountable for what they
g9, Thus they are subject to praise as well as to blame. Logically,
the adviser on the other hand cannot be held accountable for what the
advisee does--not even when the advisee acts on the adviser's sugges-
tions--since of necessity these actions are not his (the adviser's)
own. Advisers cannot be praised or blamed for what advisees do. But
advisers are held accountable for what they themselves ggy_to advisees.
An adviser can be chastised for giving bad advice or for systematically
misleading the advisee; but he can also be praised for giving good or
sound advice.

There are then, at least seven logical points or features
associated with the explicit performative "I advise you to . . . ." An
eighth, respecting the relation between advising and having reasons
comes up for discussion in the next chapter though I shall have occasion
to make reference to the place of reasons in advising from time to time
in the course of this chapter. Now I have hypothesized that what makes
the imperative, the subjunctive and the ought sentences appropriate

linguistic vehicles for advising someone to do one thing rather than

51

another is that they can be shown to share the logical features (or some
of them) of our explicit advising utterance. This presupposes that
there is sufficient room within the structures of each of (l) to (3)
such that they can, though need not always in every use, be said to
satisfy these logical features of "I advise you to . . . ." For
example, to take the first feature, the use of the second person pro-
noun "you" signifying the addressee, it is evident from even a super-
ficial examination of ordinary language that we cannot specify that in
every use of each of (l) to (3) the second person be referred to. That
would eliminate such common and legitimate locutions as the imperative
"Let g§_prey," the subjunctive "If I were he I would do . . ." and ought
sentences like "1 (she, they) ought to do . . . ." There remain, how-
ever, in each of the three classifications, locutions which quite
properly pick out the second person, as the paradigms I am using for

(2) and (3) explicitly, and for (l) implicitly show (see p. 46).
Regarding (l), the imperative sentence, we typically though not
exclusively address the second person. But there is with the case of
imperative sentences moreso than with (2) and (3) a preponderance of

the second person. As R. M. Hare puts it, "the second person seems,
indeed, to be the person for which (the imperative) mood has the

greatest liking."14

So in respect of the first logical point I think
we can fairly say that there is provision in each of the constructions

(l) to (3) for the use of the second person.

Rather than cover each of the remaining six logical features

consecutively with each of the constructions (l) to (3)--a procedure

*

14R. M. Hare, "Imperative Sentences," Mind, LVIII (1949), 25.

52

which would result in a tedious and unduly long discussion--I propose
to try to shorten matters here somewhat by treating, rather summarily
and in a block, the next four features of "I advise you to . . ." with
respect to constructions (l) to (3), leaving the last two features for
a slightly more detailed rendering. In doing this I am aware that some
of the issues I raise are controversial from a philosophical point of
view, though I shall not enter into any controversy here since that
would create an unnecessary digression. I believe, however, that, for
my purposes, there is enough evidence on balance to give support for
most (if not all) of the bald claims I will be making. The next four
logical features of our explicit advising utterance are (to recall) as
follows: An advising utterance is (a) non fact-stating; (b) insuscept-
ible of being expressed in the past tense; (c) insusceptible of having
it assigned truth values; and (d) action-related. Now to utter an
imperative sentence, irrespective of the many uses to which it can be
put,15 is not to state or report that you are doing something but to
try and make something the case by your telling someone to do this or
that or to act on such and such a matter.16 Thus (a) and (d) can be
satisfied in one stroke, as it were, with respect to imperative

sentences. And if (a) is satisfied so also must (c) be satisfied.

15For example, to command, order, warn ("Keep off the bridge"),
request ("Help, I'm stuck"), reproach ("Don't ever do that a ain“),
denounce ("Go to the devil"), pray ("Give us this day . . ."?. See
Nickolas Rescher, The Logic of Commands (London: Routledge and Kegan
Paul Ltd., 1966), Chapter One.

16

 

Hare, "Imperative Sentences," p. 25.

53

Imperative sentences themselves are neither true nor false.]7 Moreover,
it seems to follow from (d) that imperatives must refer to actions in
the future, either near or distant, so that to Speak of using an
imperative sentence in the past tense would be puzzling to say the

18 To be sure we say "I comanded you 'to . . . ." "I requested YOU

least.
to . . ." and so on but in saying these things we‘ are not thereby com-
manding or requesting, that is, we are not using a sentence in the
imperative mood. We are more than likely reporting that something is
or was the case, namely that someone did in fact command or request

you to do something or other. So point (b) is also satisfied by the
imperative sentence.

Now with respect to the subjunctive sentence it is, like the
imperative, capable of many uses--e.g., making a wish, a command, or
expressing a hope--and while such sentences are not in every case
aimed at bringing something about by human action as "Oh, if it would
only rain!" seems to show, they can be so used as in for instance, "If
it were me I would do . . . ," and frequently are so used. Further and
apart from their different uses, subjunctive sentences strictly speak-
ing cannot be said to state or report facts or to state that something
is the case. For the subjunctive, we are told, designates "the mood of

a verb which represents an attitude or concern with, the denoted action

or state not as a fact but as something . . . entertained in thought,

17Ibid., p. 36. See also H. N. Casteneda, "Outline of a Theory
on the General Logical Structure of the Language of Action," Theoria,
XXVI (1960), 154.

18For a slightly stonger statement on this see Elizabeth L. _
Beardsley, "Imperative Sentences in Relation to Indicatives," ng_
Ehilosophical Review, LIII (1944), 181.

54

contingent, possible . . . ."19

Further, if subjunctive sentences are
non-fact-stating then it is meaningful to say that truth values do not
apply to them. On the matter of their use in the past tense however,
they differ here from imperatives to the extent that utterances like
"If I were you I would pg!g_done such and such" at least imply certain
advice, or can be so construed to imply this. Suppose I say to you
"If I were you I would have done this in that situation." Suppose
also that you are now in a situation which is remarkably like that
former situation. It seems to me that my use of the above subjunctive
sentence (past tense) together with my pointing out to you the
similarity between your present situation and this past one imply my
advising you to do one thing rather than another now. There are, of
course, limitations on the use of the subjunctive sentence (past tense)
1; an advising utterance but it does seem plausible to say that in some
situations they can be used to advise someone to do one thing and not
another. This claim does not detract in any way from the use of "If I
were you I ggg1g_do . . ." to advise people. So sentences in the sub-
junctive mood certainly seem to satisfy our logical conditions (a) and
(d) along with the interesting exception I have just noted. And I
think this is generally true of ought sentences. With respect to point
(a) for example Nowell-Smith reminds us that "to say 'You ought' is to

20

act, to intervene in the world, not to describe it." Similarly, I

think we could run through the points (b) to (d) with ought sentences

showing that these points are generally satisfied by such sentences
19Webster's New International Dictionagy, Second Edition.
20

 

P. H. Nowell-Smith, Ethics (Penguin Books Ltd., 1954), p. 194.

55

including the point about using these sentences sometimes in the past
tense to advise. "You ought to have done such and such in that situa-
tion" can play essentially the same advising role as "If I were you I
would have done . . ." and in essentially the same way. I shall thus
not comment further on points (b) and (d) regarding ought sentences
but I do want to expand on points (a) and (c) in the context of both
ought sentences and imperative sentences for reasons that will become
clear presently.

When I say to you "Shut the door!" I use these words to do a
certain job. I could be commanding or ordering you or requesting you
to perform a certain act, in this case shutting the door. But in say-
ing "Shut the door!" I am not reporting or stating that I am commanding
(ordering, requesting) you so "the statement "'Shut the door" is true"
does not make sense. To this extent the utterance in question is non
fact-stating. But there is a sense, nonetheless, in which this
utterance gives us information about certain aspects of the world.
When I sincerely say "Shut the door" I suggest both that the door is
open and that someone wants it shut. In other words "Shut the door"
suggests that the statements "The door is open" and "Someone wants the
door closed" are both true. Although "Shut the door" is itself neither
true nor false it is related to certain other statements that are
either true or false by virtue of their picking out certain states of
affairs. So imperative sentences can be said to have a certain
descriptive or factual element at least to the extent that they are
"tied" to other statements which give us pieces of information about

the world. There is, I believe, a similarity in this respect between

56

imperative sentences and ought sentences. R. M. Hare observes that
"It is clear that some sentences containing the word 'ought' have
descriptive force. Suppose I say 'At the very moment when he ought

to have been arriving at the play he was grovelling underneath his car
five miles away.’ Here, provided that we know at what time the play
began we are as accurately informed about the time, as about the place
at which he was grovelling. This is because we accept the principle
that the time at which we ought to arrive at a play . . . is shortly

21

before it begins." Hare also tells us that ought sentences can

22 But

be used to convey psychological information about the speaker.
these information-giving uses are not, according to him, the primary
jobs that ought sentences do. Their primary function is "to prescribe,
or advise or instruct; and this function can be fulfilled when no

information is being conveyed."23

When someone uses an ought sentence
to prescribe, for example, he is not, apparently, or he need not be
conveying any information about the world at all. This is, perhaps,
too extreme a claim and I shall have occasion to reconsider it again
presently. In any case I take it that one of Hare's main concerns here

is to establish the fact that when ought statements are used evalua-

tively they are not amenable to truth tests because, by virtue of

 

21R. M. Hare, The Lapgyage of Morals (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1964), p. 159.

22

23Ibid., p. 159. Other uses to which ought sentences are put

are those of expressing decisions, giving commands, preaching, exhort-
ing. See also Alasdair Macintyre, "What Morality is Not," The Defini-
tion of Morality, ed. by G. Wallace and A. D. M. Walker (London:
Methuen and Co., Ltd., 1970), especially pp. 31-33.

 

Ibid., p. 167.

 

57

their logic, it is not essential that when they are so used they convey
information, though at times they can and do. When they do, the
information is presupposed. Thus ought sentences used evaluatively
while neither true nor false themselves are (or can be) related to
statements that are either true or false. So the ought sentence, in
some of its uses, is rather like the imperative sentence; and both
these in turn are rather like the explicit advising utterance in

these very respects we have just been discussing as I shall show in

the latter part of Section 2.2 of this chapter.

I turn now to the remaining two logical features namely (e),
the necessity of alternative courses of action being open to the
advisee and (f) the necessity of the advisee being free to decide
what course of action to follow, both of which are closely related.

It behooves us to proceed rather cautiously here with respect to

our constructions (1) to (3). Regarding the imperative sentence,

a difficulty arises for the use of this sentence in advising con-
texts from a tendency on the part of users of the language to con-
ceive of the imperative sentence fulfilling primarily and essentially
one function, that of commanding somebody to do something. The extreme
position on this matter is simply to equate "the use of the imperative
sentence" to "to command." The slightly less extreme though equally
misleading view is the claim that because of the (apparent) frequency
with which we use the imperative sentence to command, the latter
thereby is the “natural" or "standard" job which the imperative
sentence does. These views or ones very much like them which, in the
light of points (e) and (f) I shall be attacking, have been held by a
number of philosophers including G. C. Field and R. M. Hare. Field

58

says that the "direct command to do something" is the job of the

"imperative proper."24

This leaves the impression that any other uses
to which imperative sentences can be put are somehow "improper." Such
an impression is strengthened by Field's claim that the command is ”the

25 And while

typical and natural way in which to use the imperative."
Hare notes that many different kinds of utterances like military
orders, instructions for cooking and fixing vacuum cleaners, pieces of
advice, requests and entreaties all fall under “the imperative mood
proper" he then goes on surprisingly to say "I shall . . . use the
single term 'command' to cover all these sorts of things that sentences

"26 On the one hand Field

in the imperative mood express . . . .
restricts "the use of the imperative sentence" to just "to command"
thereby assuming a rough equivalence in meaning between the two
expressions; and on the other hand Hare extends the use of "to command"
to cover the different jobs imperative sentences can perform, but in so
doing he subordinates all these other uses to the command-use of the
imperative sentence thereby also generating a kind of equivalence
between "the use of the imperative sentence" and “to command." Neither
of these moves will do.

For one thing there seems to be a category mistake being made

here to the extent that, in "puffing up" the command to a level of

(rough) equivalence in meaning to the imperative sentence, a use is

 

24
25

G. C. Field, "Note on Imperatives," Mind, LIX (1950), 230.
Ibid., p. 231.

 

26Hare, The Language of Morals, p. 4.

 

59

being confused with a grammatical category or classification namely, the
imperative sentence. The use of an item from a grammatical category
however is not itself the category. There j§_the imperative sentence
(classification) and there 91;; many uses of imperative sentences one of
which is to command somebody to do something, another of which is to
request, another to warn, and so on. The command-use has no logical
priority or special claim over the other uses of the imperative
sentence. As uses, they are all on a logical par, so to speak--all are
equally valid uses of the imperative sentence. The particular use to
which an imperative sentence is put on a given occasion will, of course,
depend on the context; but from the fact that a particular use of
imperative sentences appears more frequently than the other uses
nothing follows with respect to the former's logical status along
side that of the remaining uses.

The second difficulty that can arise from views like those of
Field and Hare and one that bears more directly on our discussion of
the logic of implicit advising utterances, is that these views can lead
to the violation of points (e) and (f) thereby rendering the use of an
imperative sentence g§_an advising utterance, ineffective. For, if the
equation between "the use of an imperative sentence" and "to command"
is adhered to, then we would have to say that in using an imperative
sentence in telling someone to do this rather than that we are always
in fact commanding them not ever (and could not ever be) advising them
to do this rather than that. Our language of action would thus be
placed in a strait-jacket. Now "commanding" as it is normally used is

a forceful word. It presupposes both that the speaker (commander) be

60

in a position of authority over those whom he addresses and that his
objective is to get compliance on the part of the addressees in doing
what he commands them to do. Compliance can be got, if necessary, in a
number of different (and sometimes undesirable) ways but in most of the
contexts in which commanding is an accepted verbal act the rank and
words of the speaker are normally sufficient to induce the required
behavior in the addressee. A second conceptual point about commanding
is that while reasons are not necessarily ruled out, the one who com-
mands is not logically bound to give reasons why his commands should be
obeyed. Further, there is not normally room for the addressee to ask
why he is to do what he has been commanded to do, nor can it be said
that the reasons the commander has are designed to serve the interests
of the addressee. The interests that are being served when one is
commanded to do something are typically those of the speaker or his
party. Further when one commands another person the decision respecting
what the addressee is to do is taken by the former not the latter so
that when one is under a command it is rather pointless for one to say
that it is up to him to decide what he is going to do. The decision-I
making element has been removed from his domain ggg_addressee. When you
are commanded to do something you are not normally considered to have an
option open to you, at least not a very lively one. I take it then that
on the usual rendering of the concept of commanding we can say that the
logical gap, which we identified with advising, between saying to some-
one to do this rather than that gpg_his being free to decide what to do
simply does not obtain. Thus commanding someone to do something cannot

constitute a solution to the person's problem of having to choose

61

between alternative courses of action open to him; that is, commanding
never adequately answers the question "What shall I do?" asked by
another, whereas advising can constitute a solution or adequately
answer the question. So commanding is not advising.

Now the upshot of all this is as follows. If the gply use
(following Field) or even tpe_use (following Hare) of the imperative
sentence is to command then it is clear that such a sentence cannot

2 . . .
7 Th1s 15 an 1ncorrect conclu-

have an advising function to fulfill.
sion to be forced to draw and we need not be forced to draw it. To
avoid this conclusion, and consequently the views of Field and Hare,
all we need do is to keep some fairly elementary distinctions before
us respecting the imperative sentence and the uses thereof. These
distinctions are: (i) that an imperative sentence itself is not a
command; (ii) that we do not use imperative sentences pglgly_to com-
mand; and (iii) that we sometimes use sentences not in the imperative
mood to command. I think I have said enough about (ii) to indicate the
variety of uses to which imperative sentences can be put. Respecting
(iii) we can and often do use indicative sentences to command. My
saying "You are no longer welcome here" in the appropriate setting

does the job of the command "Get out of my house!"; and "Your bus is

about to leave" can function in place of "Hurry up!" The point in

making the above three distinctions is to show that there is no

 

27It might be thought that a case can be made for a weaker
sense of "to command" which would provide latitude for the addressee
such that (e) and (f) need not be violated in using an imperative
sentence to command someone. We might reserve the verb "to order" to
function in this weaker sense but in the next section of this chapter
I show why ordering is not advising. '

62

(logical) affinity between the use of the imperative sentence ggg_
commanding, and thereby to break any tendency there may be to equate
or otherwise confound these two notions. So the imperative sentence
need not be seen to violate points (e) and (f) in gll_its uses though
in some of its uses it doubtless does. In exploring the implications
for advising of the views of Field and Hare I have examined one use of
the imperative sentence that does namely, the command use. But for
some of the other uses of the imperative sentence, if they are recog-
nized in their own right and are not blurred out as the Field-Hare
views would have it, they are of a sufficiently lesser force as to be
suitable for use as an advising utterance. This lesser force is mani-
fested by the fact that in some uses of the imperative sentence the
speaker's position is not of necessity one of being in authority over
people and by the fact that the addressee has some latitude respecting
points (e) and (f). If you request me to help you by using the impera-
tive sentence "Get me out, I'm stuck!" I am not thereby bound to do as
you say as I would be if in appropriate situations you were to command
me. I might or I might not decide to help you. I am free to do either.
Similarly if you advise me by saying "Write a thousand words a day" or
"Get a ticket to the reading room in the British Museum" I am not
thereby bound to do as you say even though you have used an imperative
sentence in addressing me.

Ought sentences in respect of (e) and (f) are, on the whole,
less troublesome. The use of an ought sentence typically presupposes
a choice in the courses of action Open to the agent addressed (and his

being free to decide which course to take). “You ought to do A"

63

normally does not tie you to doing A though it presupposes there are
good reasons for choosing to do it rather than choosing to do something
else. These features of the ought sentence help make it a suitable
candidate for use in advising people to do one thing rather than
another. But sometimes the logic of ought sentences is construed in
such a way that it is not possible for them to be used as an advising
utterance because such a construal, if correct, would violate (e) and
(f). One such construal I believe worth considering is that of R. M.

Hare who claims in The Language of Morals that ought sentences entail

 

imperatives. We have seen how Hare uses "imperatives" so his claim in
the final analysis must be that ought sentences entail commands. How-
ever let us first hear him out on the matter. Hare says that he does
not "wish to claim that all 'ought'-sentences entail imperatives, but
only that they do so when they are being used evaluatively."28 Now
when ought sentences are used this way they are, for Hare, fulfilling
their primary function which is to prescribe or to advise (as we noted
earlier). It follows then that when ought sentences are used to advise
or prescribe they entail imperatives. Suppose then that I advise you
by saying "You ought to do X." This (evaluative) use of the ought
sentence entails according to Hare, the imperative (command) "You, do
X." That is "You ought to do X" as an advising utterance entails "Do

29

X." Now when philosophers use the word "entails" they normally mean

 

28

29See Language of Morals, p. 178. There he says that when "You
ought not to smoke in this compartment" is used evaluatively it entails
the command "Do not (now) smoke in this compartment." Also see p. 172
where he says: "Thus to say that moral judgments guide actions, and to
say that they entail imperatives, comes to much the same thing."

Hare, The Language of Morals, p. 164.

 

 

64

by the expression "p entails q" that it would be logically contra-
dictory to assert p and deny q. So their use of "entails" normally
picks out a meaning connection between two statements or expressions to
the extent that it would be correct to say that at least part of what
we mggg_by "p" is "q." So far as I can see Hare does not stray from
this usage. "To say that one judgment entails another is simply to say
that you cannot assent to the first and dissent from the second unless
you misunderstood one or the other; and this 'cannot' is a logical

'cannot.'"30

Thus if "You ought to do X" used evaluatively entails "Do
X" then pg:§_of the meaning of the former just is the latter, namely
"Do X." But what part? We know that it cannot be the descriptive part
of "You ought to do X" because as Hare has already told us this utter-
ance can be used to advise or prescribe when no information is being
conveyed (see p. 56 above). But if "You ought to do X" as an advising
utterance can be devoid of descriptive meaning then when it is said
that "You ought to do X" entails "Do X" what is being said is that the
evaluative meaning exhausts that of "You ought to do X" and that mean-
ing in turn is of necessity nothing but the force of the command "Do X."
Thus according to Hare's analysis of ought sentences (so far as I can
see) the advising utterance "You ought to do X" collapses into "00 X"
so that when I advise you by saying "You ought to do X" I am in fact
commanding you to do X. This is a mistaken view. I argued earlier
that you cannot advise and command someone in the same breath and

phrase yet it looks as though this is precisely what Hare tries to do.

But advising is not commanding because, at bottom, commanding violates

 

30Ibid., p. 172.

 

65

our conditions (e) and (f). If you are commanding you cannot also be
advising, and conversely. To be sure advising utterances have a
"force," so to speak, but it does not reside in an entailed command--
rather it lies in the fact that there are reasons for saying to a
person that he ought to do one thing rather than another. These
reasons, being factual in nature, are connected to advising utterances
through the latter's presupposed descriptive element an account of
which is found on pp. 76-77 below. The difficulties for advising
encountered in Hare's position can be circumvented by dropping the
claims that ought sentences used evaluatively entail commands and
convey no information at all.

I conclude this first section of the chapter31

by claiming
that the constructions (1) to (3), namely the imperative, the subjunc-
tive and the ought sentences can, in some of their uses, be seen to
satisfy or otherwise make provision for the seven logical points
respecting the explicit advising utterance "I advise you to . . ."
provided (a) that the expression "the use of the imperative sentence"
is not equated to or confused with the expression "to command"; and
(b) the ought sentence when used evaluatively, in particular to advise,
is not construed to entail a command. Given these provisions then we
can claim that, at least on some occasions, by saying "00 such and
such" or "If I were you I would do . . ." or "You ought to do . . ."

one thereby advises another person to do something. Of course the

claim that (l) to (3) have an adequate logical structure is not

 

311 do not think that the subjunctive sentence is problematic
with respect to points (e) and (f) so I will not comment further on
it here.

66

sufficient. In baldly saying to you "Do such and such" you can hardly
be expected to understand what I intend by using this imperative
sentence. Am I issuing a command, a warning, or a piece of advice? In
order for you to understand that in saying "Do such and such" I am
advising you rather than warning or commanding you, a context is needed
in which the utterance can reasonably be placed such that my intent is
thereby made clear. All the constructs (l) to (3) and in particular (1)
require a context if they are to do the work of "I advise you to . . ."
and are to be seen to be doing it unambiguously, by the addressee.
Otherwise commands and pieces of advice will become indistinguishable
in the eyes of the people we address.

We can now provide an answer to the following question: Is
there, for the adviser, anything to choose between the advising uses of
any of (l) to (3) ggg_that of the explicit advising utterance? Yes.

We have seen that we need a context in order to know that each of (l)
to (3) is being used by a speaker to advise on any given occasion; and
such an (advising) context can be properly and clearly established by
an initial use of the explicit performative "I advise you to . . . ."
So our explicit utterance has a certain priority over the advising
uses of (l) to (3). But once the context is established is there any-
thing to choose between (1) to (3) in advising someone to do one thing
rather than another? On the whole I think (3), the ought sentence, is
the most suitable implicit advising utterance in our language. The
subjunctive sentence is slightly weaker than either (1) or (3) though
it can do the (advising) job for us and in fact has an advantage or two

which I will bring out in connection with the discussion in Chapter IV.

67

The imperative sentence is doubtless the most difficult to use success-
fully or effectively in advising someone--given the tendency to confuse
it with the command--that is, to use it such that the adviser's intent
will not be misread by the advisee. There may in fact be good reasons
for those in positions of authority who gl§g_have an advising function
to fulfill to avoid completely the use of the imperative sentence in
advising lest they be misunderstood by their advisees--or at least
employ a variation on the imperative such as "You shall do well

to . . . .” Beyond these considerations however I suspect that whether
an adviser uses (1), (2) or (3) to advise another person is largely a
matter of personal style and taste. These constructions can, at the
very least, provide a variety to one's methods of advising. One final
point: we have seen in this section that advising utterances are not to
be identified by virtue of their (always) being in a certain mood and
only that mood. Such utterances can be in any of the indicative

active (and passive), the imperative or the subjunctive moods.

2.2 Things That Can Go Wrogg

 

Suppose that (i) I say to you "I advise you to do A" (or words
to that effect), (ii) the seven logical points I discussed last section
are satisfied, and (iii) I have reasons for advising you as I do, then
does this guarantee that I will have successfully advised you? Are
these conditions sufficient for pulling off an act of advising or could
something still go wrong? Before getting further into this it will be
helpful to make a distinction in order to remove the ambiguity of the
phrase "successfully advised." In verbal acts that like advising are

essentially bi-polar it makes sense to distinguish between two kinds of

68

successes (and failures), namely the success of the speaker, in this
case the adviser, and the success of the listener, in this case the
advisee. Since it is possible to have the success of either without
the concomitant success of the other, whenever we speak of "successful
advising" we should specify whether by that phrase we mean the success
of the adviser or of the advisee or of both. Suppose I have satisfied
(i) to (iii) but that you, the advisee, didn't fully hear what I said
ggg_adviser or you misunderstood some of the things I said to you.
Would this not count against saying I had succeeded in advising you?
That depends. In the first sense of "success“ (that of the adviser) it
might not count against it whereas in the second sense of "success"
(that of the advisee) it probably would. In this case we are inclined
to say that something went wrong on the addressee-side but not
necessarily on the speaker-side. Equally however something could go
wrong on the speaker-side but not necessarily on the addressee-side.
Is it, for instance, the case that just anybody satisfying (i) to (iii)
can thereby be said to be successful ggg_adviser or are there (say)
additional personal requirements to be met from the speaker's side?

In what follows I will be primarily concerned with the speaker-side.
What then are some of the possible things that can go wrong here such
that even though (i) to (iii) have been met by the speaker we might
still say that he had not been successful in advising someone.

In his How to Do Things with Words Austin identifies at least

 

six things that can go wrong on the occasions during which performative

utterances are used and he refers to these as the "doctrine of the

69

infe1icities."32

According to Austin an infelicity is a "dimension of
unsatisfactoriness" or an "ill" to which verbal acts may be subject--
though not every kind of ill to which such acts may fall prey is an
infelicity. Austin excludes from the class "infelicity" verbal acts
done under duress or uttered by mistake, accident or uttered uninten-

33 He includes what he calls "Misfires" which make a verbal

tionally.
act null and void, and "Abuses“ which make an act not void but
"unhappy."34 Misfires are subdivided into "misapplications" on the one
hand and "flaws" and "hitches" or generally "misexecutions" on the
other. Under "abuses" there are "insincereties." There are two other
sub-types of infelicity for which Austin gives no name--one under
"misfires" and one under "abuses." Now every performative apparently
is liable to some of these infelicities but not necessarily all of them.
For example our advising utterance does not appear to be subject to
that type of infelicity which Austin calls "misexecutions." A verbal
act is rendered fruitless, so to speak, or ineffectual if the procedure
is not executed by 911 participants both correctly and completely.35
Thus "my attempt to make a bet by saying 'I bet you sixpence' is

abortive unless you say 'I take you on' or words to that effect; my

attempt to marry by saying 'I will' is abortive if the woman says 'I

 

 

will not.'"36 These examples suggest that my attempt to advise you by
32Austin, How to do Things with Words, p. 14.
331p1g., p. 21.
3fgpig., p. 25.
3Sijg,, p. 15.
36Ibid., p. 36.

 

7O

saying "I advise you to do A" will be abortive unless you (the advisee)
reply "I consent to do A" or words to that effect. But this is not so.
Unlike betting where your failure to say “I take you on" (or words like
it) is a sufficient condition for aborting the attempt, advising admits
of a whole range of possible verbal responses or none at all no one of
which is either necessary or sufficient to abort my attempt at advising
you. This point about advising is guaranteed by the essential logical
gap (discussed in Section 2.1) between the utterance "I advise you to
do . . .“ and the advisee's logically independent decision to do one
thing or another which may or may not reflect the advice given him.
Advising highlights the speaker's ggngg_something and the listener's
deciding to do something, not the latter's saying something in return.
Nor is my attempt at advising you by saying "I advise you to do . . ."
aborted if you do not decide to do something; for not deciding to do
something is, in a sense, still to decide. So it‘s not clear how an
advisee could ever "misexecute" his part at least on Austin's sense of
"misexecute." I must concede however that an adviser could misexecute
(in some sense) pj§_part. If I attempt to advise you by saying "I
advise you to do . . ." but have no reasons for the advice I give you
then I will be unsuccessful in my advising (as I will establish in
Chapter III).

On the whole, however, I think advising utterances are more

liable to those infelicities covered by "misapplications" and "insin-
37

cerities." Some examples of the former are: my saying "I give . . .

when whatever I give is not mine to give; "I christen you . . .” when

 

37Ibid., pp. 23, 24.

71

I am not vested with the authority appropriate for christening people;
"I name this ship . . ." when I am not the person selected to perform
the ceremony; "I appoint you . . ." when you are already appointed.

The infelicities here arise from essentially two sources--one relating
to the pgsition (or lack of) of the speaker and the other to the gigggg-
stances of the utterance. My saying "I christen you . . ." is null and
void if I lack authorization to christen people, that is if I am not
entitled to do this or if I am not jp_the appropriate position to do
this. Also in saying "I name this ship . . ." I do not thereby name it
if I have not been put in a position to do this. And when I say “I
appoint you . . ." what renders the utterance void is the particular
circumstance namely that you are already appointed. What makes "1 give"
void are infelicities arising from both position and circumstance since
in claiming to be giving what is not mine I am thereby also not in a
position (not entitled) to give even though I say "I give." Suppose
then I say to you "I advise you to take Education 801A this term? when
in fact you had previously taken the course; or "You ought to jog one
mile each day" when in fact you have an artificial leg; or "You would
do well to obtain borrowing privileges at the university libraryV when
in fact by regulation you are not permitted to borrow books there. Now
I take it that these are all cases where it is possible for the adviser
to meet each of the conditions (i) to (iii) above, and yet because of

circumstances to have his utterance rendered void. You can always say

 

to someone "I advise you to do A" when that person either is already
doing or has done A or cannot do it but you cannot then be said to be

advising him. Some of the things [in addition to (i) to (iii)] that'

72

have to go right in attempting to advise someone by saying ”I advise
you to do . . ." is that what you advise a person to do is not already
being done by him and is neither a physical or legal impossibility for
him. You will not be considered a good (i.e., helpful) adviser if for
many of the things you purportedly advise people to do they either have
done or cannot (in the various sense of “cannot") do, because your
advice will be without point or effect. This of course can fairly
easily be remedied by the adviser's obtaining adequate information

about his advisees and the relevant parts of the world (see Chapter III,
Section 3.2).

With respect to the appropriateness of the speaker or of his
position particularly when the speaker is advising someone to do some-
thing this raises, of necessity, the complex matter of who is to advise
or who can be said to advise. Since I shall be taking up this matter
in some detail in Chapter IV I shall curtail my treatment of it here.
There is a sense, of course, in which almost anyone (save perhaps
young children and imbeciles) can be said to be in a position to advise
about every day sorts of things even though much of the advice is not
well received by the listeners, or is unwanted. Even here however it
is arguable that one's own particular experiences may set him in a
better position than, say, his neighbour to advise about some everyday
matter. But I am primarily concerned about advising in respect of
rather more specialized matters--for example the giving of economic,
medical, legal, vocational, spiritual and in particular moral advice.

I take it that unless a person is inacertain position to give (say)

legal advice, then for anyone not so placed who nonetheless attempts to

73

advise another on legal matters by saying to that other "I advise you

to do . . ."--while we might not say that his utterance is null and
void--we would be extremely wary of needing it as 1gggl_advice. Just

as one cannot appoint another to some position by saying "I appoint

you" if the former is not duly authorized to do this so I cannot really
be said to be giving you legal advice by saying "I advise you to do . .."
or "You ought to do . . ." if I am not in a position to do this--that

is if I do not, at bottom, have the relevant knowledge and understanding.
I believe it is correct to say that some people, by virtue of their
skills and abilities or their training or both, are in a better posi-
tion than are others to give certain kinds of advice such as legal,
medical, economic advice--though I concede for the moment that the case
for moral advice is more difficult and one I shall have to argue for
later in Chapter V. As I suggested a moment ago we do not say,
necessarily, that my attempt at advising you on legal matters by saying
"I advise you to . . ." when I am not in a position to give this kind

of advice is null and void, since this may be too strong a claim, though
we do or would say that my utterance is subject to grave doubt, to
skepticism, or to question. That is, for those who, like myself, try to
advise on matters for which we are not entitled to give advice we must
expect such utterances to be branded at least as "unfortunate" or
"inappropriate" or "unacceptable." Giving advice in rather specialized
domains almost certainly requires that the role or position of the
adviser be subject to requirements it otherwise would not be. All this
turns on what it means to say of someone that he (she) is Vin a posi-

tion" to advise another.

74

Insincereties, on the other hand arise when certain verbal per-
formances are undertaken without the speaker having the appropriate
thoughts or beliefs, feelings or convictions, and intentions, examples
of which are my saying ”I promise" when I do not intend to keep the
promise and my saying "I congratulate you" when I do not feel pleased,
when perhaps I am jealous of you, and so on. The infelicities here
arise from the fact that in uttering these things without the appro-
priate thoughts, feelings or intentions I am abusing the procedure
thereby rendering the performances in question not null and void but
"unhappy" because insincere. Suppose then that I advise someone to do
something when I believe (think) that what I advise him to do is
clearly not in his interests and that if acted on will almost certainly
place him in a position worse off than that in which he was before.
Suppose in other words I advise someone to do what I think will be
detrimental to him. I might, for example, hold a particular grudge
against this person (unbeknownst to him) and I might therefore feel
justified in so advising him. In the next chapter I argue that one
gggg_reason for advising another for doing this rather than that is
that if the advice is acted on the advisee's interests will likely be
better served than they otherwise would be. Then to the extent that
we advise someone to do what we think will be detrimental to him we
normally have a pgg_reason for so advising; and when we advise on the
basis of bad reasons we advise insincerely. Giving advice on this basis
is rather analogous to lying to the advisee. The latter in asking,
"What shall I do?" is not asking to be placed in a position that leaves

him worse off than he is now--rather the contrary. To the extent that

75

I reply to his question by advising him to do one thing rather than
another on the pretense that doing it will be beneficial to him when in
fact it will be detrimental to him, I am advising him unfaithfully, as
it were, or ggg_adviser I am systematically misleading him, thereby
abusing the procedure. His question presupposes I will respond in good
faith if I respond at all. By not so responding I advise insincerely.
There is, however, a difference between advising insincerely (by having
bad reasons of the kind I suggest) and giving bad advice. I may, in all
good faith and for good reasons so far as I can tell, advise you to do A
thinking it to be in your interests when in fact it turns out not to be
so. This advice is certainly to be criticized (as bad) but not in the
same way that advising intentionally on the basis of bad reasons is to
be criticized. There is no excuse for the latter whereas there may be
for the former.

Other ills to which our advising utterances may be subject are
as follows: my saying "I advise you to do . . ." when I am on stage
acting in a play or said when I am dreaming or heavily drugged or
hypnotized. All these conditions would in some way render the utter-
ances void. Austin does not include these in his discussion of
infelicities because "our performative utterances, felicitous or not,

"38 and the

are to be understood as issued in ordinary circumstances
conditions listed in this paragraph are not "ordinary" according to
Austin. I mention them however to make our list of things that can go

or be wrong with our advising utterances more complete.

38Ibid., p. 22.

76

We are now in a position to see more clearly than we were
before that for one's advising someone else to do something by saying
"I advise you to . . ." to be brought off successfully, certain things
in the world have to obtain and certain statements about these things
have to be true. When I say "I advise you to . . ." or "You ought
to . . ." etc., I imply that a good many things have to be--for
example, that I have appropriate thoughts, feelings, intentions; that
I am in an appropriate position; that the person whom I address has not
done but can do what I advise him to do; that I have good reasons for
the advice I give; that the advisee is free to decide what to do; and
so on. In other words when I say "I advise you to take Education BOlAV
then to be successful (not void, unhappy) it must be true, not false,
that (a) you have not taken Education 801A; (b) you can take it;

(c) you are free to decide whether to take it or not; (d) I think it
would serve your interests to take it, i.e., I have a good reason for
advising you this way; (e) I am not hypnotized or drugged, and so on.
"I advise you to take Education 801A" suggests that "You have not yet
taken Education 801A" is true, that "You can take it" is true, that "I
think it in your interest to take it" is true, etc., though it does not
follow that our advising utterance itself can be said to be true (or
false). All the conditions (felicities) I have been discussing plus
items (ii) and (iii) referred to at the outset of this section taken
together help make it a fact that by my saying VI advise you to do . . ."
I thereby advise you successfully to do one thing rather than another.
But my saying "I advise you to . . .9 is not a report or statement of

this fact. So while "I advise you to . . ." or "You ought to . . ."-

77

(when used to advise) can themselves be neither true nor false they are
related to a whole cluster of statements which are either true or false.
If these latter are all true then our advising is successful; if not

all true then not successful or not entirely so, depending, of course,
on which of the statements are true and which false. In other words

to assess as "successful" the utterance "I advise you to . . ." is to

assess the total situation in which the utterance is issued.

2.3 Advising and Other Concepts39

Consider the following list of concepts: advising, orderipg,

 

suggesting, persuading, recommending, demanding, begging, urging, plead-

ing, commanding, goading, admonishing, warnipg, beseaching, imploring,

 

counseling, directing, prescribing, inducing, commanding, influencing,

 

There is nothing mysterious or magical about this list which I have
constructed. All the concepts mentioned have, very generally, to do
with the actions of at least two people and in particular the actions
of one person as they are or could be related to the actions of
another person. Obviously, the list is open-ended. Given this general
criterion numerous other concepts could be added but I shall not and
need not bother with that since the list as it stands is more than
adequate for my purpose which is to compare and contrast advising with

a number of these other notions. In so doing I shall be saying a little

 

39In writing parts of this section I have found the following
articles helpful: R. M. Hare, "The Freedom of the Will," The Aristo-
telian Society_Supplementary Volume, XXV (1951), 201-216; W. D. Falk,
"Goading and Guiding,“ Mind, LXXII, No. 246 (April, 1953), 145-171;
Basil Mitchell, "Varieties of Imperative," The Aristotelian Society
§gciety Supplementary Volume, XXXI (1957), 175-190; Herbert Morris, .
"Imperatives and Orders,“ Theoria, XXVI (1960), 183-209.

 

 

 

78

about quite a number of these concepts and rather more about very few
of them notably, persuading, ordering, counseling and recommending, all
in an attempt to help illuminate further the concept of advising.

I begin by noting that while many of the concepts listed, like
advising, have performative uses they by no means all do. When I say
"I order . . . ," "I suggest . . . ," "I recommend . . . ," "I
demand . . . ," "I beg . . . ," "I urge . . . ," "I command . . . ,"

"I admonish . . . ,“ "I beseach . . . ," "I prescribe . . . ," "I

warn . . . ," "I commend . . ." in each case I perform the act in
question; that is, I thereby order, suggest, recommend, demand, beg,
urge, commend and so on. Whereas in saying "I persuade . . . ,“

"I plead . . . ,“ "I goad . . . ,“ "I counsel . . . ," "I induce . . . ,"
"I influence . . ." I do not thereby persuade, plead, goad, counsel or

40 What this shows us is that some of these actions cannot

influence.
be performed apart from either the use of the written or spoken word.

I cannot engage in the acts we call "ordering," "recommending,"
"demanding,“ "urging," "commanding," “commending," "warning," “beseach-
ing" without saying or writing something, that is without using the
language; and this as we have seen is eminently the case with advising.
There are no conceivable situations in which it would be possible to
say that someone is or has been advising another person to do something

(or even that something is the case) wherein the former fails to use

words. Advising is a linguistic activity and this no doubt explains

—¥

4oTwo exceptions: "I plead" as in "I plead guilty" can be my
Pleading so there is a sense of pleading in which "I plead" is performa-
tive. Also "I counsel" as in "I counsel caution" is performative. ,
Here "counsel" is equivalent to "advise." But there are other senses
0f "counsel" where this equivalence does not hold. See pp. 88-96.

79

why general terms like "speaker" and "addresser" can be used to name or
otherwise identify the persons who engage in this and other speech acts.
However with respect to persuading, pleading, goading, counsel-
ing (in some uses) and influencing there are no necessary connections
with the use of language. While it is true that we often persuade or
influence someone to do something by using language we need not and
sometimes do not. Persuading can be pulled off non-linguistically by
the use of threats (non-verbal), force, or fear for example. In
counseling, at least in the non-directive sense, silence and passivity
on the part of the counselor are often virtues. "The counselor's task"
writes Arbuckle, "is basically one of listening and clarifying in-a

4] So on this view of counsel-

quiet, unobtrusive, and accepting way."
ing it would be perfectly meaningful to reply to the question "What did
you counsel him?" by saying, "Oh nothing, I simply listened while my
counselee did all the talking." Counselor talk is not essential to
counseling. I could also in some situations plead without saying any-
thing. If the stakes were high--if for instance my life was at stake--
I could plead for it by getting down before my would-be assassin on my
knees and raising my hands in prayer-like posture. It would not be my
words but rather my bodily position and my facial expressions that
would constitute my pleading. Actually begging and imploring are rather
Iike pleading in this respect. But begging and imploring are also like

advising in that they have performative uses. My saying "I beg you,"

"I implore you“ is my begging or my imploring whereas "I plead (with)

_

4ADugald S. Arbuckle, Guidance and Counseling in the Classroom
(Boston: Allyn and Bacon, Inc., 1957), p. 69.

80

you" is not my pleading. These facts place concepts like begging and
imploring in an interesting position. In some cases they share certain
features with pleading and in other cases certain features with
advising.

We may now draw the following general line of demarcation
between concepts like persuading, pleading, goading, counseling (non-
directive) inducing, influencing on the one hand and advising, ordering,
recommending, demanding, urging, commending, admoniShing on the other,
by saying: (a) the performance of the latter acts but not the former
have a necessary connection with the use of language; (b) in the case
of the former acts but not the latter (or much less so in the latter)
there is a tendency to make use of appropriate bodily movements
(including certain postures, nods of the head, etc.), facial expres-
sions and tones of voice; and (c) similarly with the former but not the
latter there is a tendency (or at least provision for) both the use of
emotive words and the emotive use of words in performing the acts in
question. On this limited basis we may add the following general dis-
tinctions. Concepts like advising, urging, prescribing, recommending,
commending pick out verbal acts that are on the whole, relatively

impersonal in the sense of their being essentially objective and cog-

 

nitive in nature while the actions picked out by concepts like per-
suading, goading, pleading, influencing, etc. are, on the whole, sub-
jective and affective in nature--subjective at least to the extent
that the person doing the persuading, goading, pleading, etc., normally
engages in these activities in order to have things gi§_way, and

affective to the extent that words are commonly used emotively by the

81

people in question. While there is not this kind of subjective element
in non-directive counseling there is an affective element though it is
apparently brought out in a different way. It is said that the
counselor's job (in part) is to reflect "what he thinks and feels that
the client is thinking and feeling . . . . The more one empathizes
with the client, the more likely it is that he can reflect accurately
the deep and personal feelings of the client, and thus be close, and

42 This reflection of

sensitive, to the client's frame of reference."
feeling is by no means word-dependent. A smile, a nod, a frown, can
all reflect another's feelings given an appropriate setting.

This survey is rather rough and hasty and I now want to focus
on the notion of persuading and its cognates lest important distinc-
tions here are overlooked. The foregoing treatment suggests that by
virtue of words frequently used emotively and (or) bodily movements
that persuading, pleading, and goading causally affect (i.e., induce,
make or get) other people to do what we want them to do by putting them
under some kind of psychological pressure. This I believe is correct
as far as it goes. That there is a causal mechanism conceptually
associated with these notions helps to mark them off from other notions
like advising, recommending, urging, prescribing, and so on. There is
too a causal mechanism typically associated with the notion of command-
ing (as I suggested in an earlier section). In this case the cause or

force often arises from the threat of penalties or punishment--

penalties or punishment that are imposed for disobeying the command.

 

42Dugald S. Arbuckle, Counseling: Philosophy, Theory and
Practice (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, Inc., 1965), p. 208.

 

 

igégr-‘rxj’wr -u- v

i.' '; v ' "f".vv.."

82

There is however an important difference between commanding and per-
suading (and for that matter, advising) and it is this: in the case of
the latter but not the former one need not be jg_a position of authority
to carry out the act. Yet commanding along with persuading, goading,
pleading all differ from advising to the extent that in the latter but
not the former activities one is not trying to get (cause, induce) the
addressee to do one thing rather than another. As I showed in the first
section of this chapter there is no room in the logic of advising for a
causal connection between "I advise you to do A" and your doing it. In
advising someone you are not engaged in dragging or trying to drag that
person where he does not want to go or forcing him to do what he does
not want to do, all of which is what you are often trying to do when

you are persuading him and normally doing when goading him. Turning
matters around when someone asks you for advice he is not asking to be
told (commanded) to do something nor is he asking to be persuaded43 or
goaded into doing something. 'All these violate some of the essential
conditions for being advised such as that of being free and able to
choose independently between alternative courses of action. The reason
that it is odd for one ggg_rational being to ask to be persuaded or
goaded into doing something is that one would thereby be denying his
freedom and his rationality; whereas if he asked ggg_rational being to
be advised he would be doing something consistent with his rationality
and his freedom. Like commanding someone, neither persuading nor
goading an advisee can be said to constitute a solution to pj§_problem

of having to choose among alternative courses of action.

 

43But see discussion on "rational persuasion" on pp. 83-84.

83

To dwell on these points for a moment, what one in fact is

after in asking for advice is the considered opinion or belief of

 

another person as to the best thing for one todo in a certain situation.
Thus in seeking advice you are asking another person for the merits of
doing one thing rather than another, that is you are asking for imper-
sonal facts or reasons and not the adviser's own special reasons why
you should do this rather than that. But you need not and often times
are not asking for impersonal facts or reasons when you ask to be per-
suaded (in some senses of "persuade") or to be goaded or commanded.
Here you probably do not care particularly what the facts are, rather
you simply want someone to remove the burden of decision-making from
you in some situation by doing whatever will result in your being
caused to act a certain way. But in relinquishing this freedom you
place yourself at the disposal of the other person for him to use you
as he pleases. The pOint I am trying to make here is that different
conditions are presupposed in approaching someone for advice as distinct
from asking to be persuaded or goaded and these different presupposi-
tions help mark off advising from concepts like persuading and goading.
To put matters (once more) slightly differently, we can only advise
people who on the whole are relatively free and who are disposed to
conducting their affairs rationally whereas we can persuade, goad,
command people who tend on the whole, to be governed by their passions.

Now, "persuading" has, I believe, another use which is not
incompatible with that of "advising" and it is important to bring this
out. We sometimes speak of being persuaded by the facts or by an

argument to do one thing rather than another. In this use of "persuade"

84

we are not saying that we have been caused or forced by the facts or
reasons to do something. It is not logically contradictory to say

"I know these are compelling reasons for doing X but I am not going

to do it"--though it is logically odd since under these circumstances
we usually would do X. What we mean when we say that one has been
persuaded by the facts or the argument is that having reflected on the
facts and their relevance, the soundness of the reasons, the cogency
of the argument one then decides in the light of these considerations
to do one thing rather than another. Here "persuading“ amounts to
“weighing and deciding" not "causing" or "inducing." To say that I
have been persuaded by the facts is to say that I am gg1y_convinced by
them. Clearly then advising utterances and ordinary statements of fact
can persuade (in the present sense of "persuade" we are considering).
”Your house is on fire" will persuade you ggg_rational being to leave
for home immediately just as "I advise you to do A" can be said to
persuade you to do A given that there are reasons and you are duly
convinced by these. There are then at least two distinct uses for

the concept persuading. In the former, when words are used to per-
suade someone to do something the words are used causally not performa-
tively and this is what helps to distinguish persuading (in this sense)
from advising. In the second use, however, persuading can be compatible
with advising and to this extent there is nothing odd about my saying
that the advice I received persuaded me to do this rather than that

for all I am saying is that in weighing the advice I received I have

decided in favor of one course of action over another.

85

There is one final point about persuading (first use) which
marks it off from advising and it is this: "persuade“ is an achieve-
ment word necessarily whereas "advise" is not (or at least not in the
same way). This difference may be brought out as follows. It would
be contradictory for me to say "I persuaded him to do X but he wouldn't
or didn't do it" whereas it would not be contradictory to say "I advised
him to do X but he wouldn't or didn‘t do it." In the former case to
say thatone has in fact persuaded another person to do something is to
say that one has got him to do it (by one means or another). Thus "I
persuaded him to do X but he would not do it" both asserts and denies
the same fact. But in the case of advising it does not follow that
because one has been advised to do X he does it and therefore "I
advised him to do X but he would not or did not do it" does not assert
and deny the same fact. Whereas "I persuaded him to do X" means "I got
him to do it," the utterance "I advised him to do X" does not mean "I
got him to do it"--and I think I have given ample justification earlier
in this chapter why this is so. It is true, of course, that in the
case of advising there is a sense of "achievement" in which the speaker
may be said to be successful even though the addressee does not do what
he was advised to do. I have also touched upon this point before and
what it amounts to is this. In the case of advising, the adviser may
be successful while the advisee is not provided the former does his job
correctly, that is, provided he attends to what I have previously
identified as the logical points of advising as well as the felicities
of advising. Nonetheless "persuading" necessarily is an achievement

word in places where "advising” easily fails to be one. But then this

86

is just a logical point about advising and the fact that advising does
not have successes where persuading does is not a negative claim against
the former. In having been advised by someone to do X one is necessarily
still free to decide whether to do X or not but in having been persuaded
to do X one cannot be said still to be free to decide whether to do X.
Ordering, to which I now turn, is like commanding, not advising.
As far as the giving of reasons is concerned, one who orders you to do
something is not logically bound to say why you are to obey though he
doubtless has reasons. In advising on the other hand there is a sense
in which the advice is incomplete until the reasons for doing one thing
rather than another have been given by the adviser. Further, in order-
ing there is no conceptual connection with enhancing the best interests
of the person ordered. Like commanding, persuading (first sense),
goading, and imploring, in ordering we normally try to get the other
person to do what serves ggg_interests not his--though I think we would
make at least this exception namely that in ordering young children we
not infrequently are trying to get them to do what will be in their
best interests, at least so far as we can tell at the moment of order-
ing. And in some contexts we order adults (who could not possibly be
expected to have the facts) to do one thing rather than another in the
interests of (say) their safety, health, comfort, etc. But apart from
these exceptions ordering is not a disinterested activity; whereas when
we advise another person to do something we necessarily take into
account whether, in following our advice, his best interests will be
served not ours. I cannot be said to have advised you if I suggest to

you to do (say) X on the basis that your doing it will help me to gain

87

but not you. The gain that is conceptually tied to advising is that of
the advisee not the adviser. To be sure an adviser can gain but only
incidentally. If he consistently gives good advice his reputation no
doubt rises. Giving good advice in principle amounts to telling the
advisee (as a reasonable person) to do what he (the advisee) would
himself likely choose to do if he were not (say) presently ignorant of
the facts of a situation. But one can give good advice to the extent
that one first takes into consideration the advisee's present interests
and what, other things considered, will be in his best interests. So
advising is on balance a disinterested activity.

As our reference to young children indicates, to be in a posi-
tion to be ordered one need not be able to reason in the sense of making
sound choices or decisions as between alternative courses of action.
The fact that we never speak of advising young children (or animals) to
do this rather than that suggests that they lack the requisite skills
and (or) abilities to be advised. As far as we know they are not able
to deliberate and exercise rational choice. So we do not advise young
children and animals because we cannot (due to their lack). Of course
there are some adults whom, for similar reasons, we cannot advise
either. Whereas those who can be advised can also follow orders,
those who can follow orders cannot always be advised. It is interest-
ing to note here that whereas we speak of obeying and disobeying or
contravening orders on the one hand we speak of heeding, consenting to
advice and rejecting advice on the other hand; and we never speak of
obeying or disobeying advice though we do speak this way about orders.

The notion of obeying orders suggests submission on the part of the '

88

addressee whereas the notions of heeding and consenting to advice sug-

gest reflective awareness on the part of the advisee--though admittedly
disobeying and contravening an order may be construed (at least in the

case of children) as a mark of embryonic rationality that is beginning

to surface.

I turn now to the concept of counseling. There is, of course,
one use of "counseling" which is interchangeable with that of ”advising"
and it is the use with which we talk for example, of giving legal
counsel. When a lawyer gives counsel to his client he is taken either
to be advising his client to do one thing rather than another or that
something is the case. But there is another use--or better still,
cluster of uses--of “counseling" which cannot be interchanged with
"advising" with the same degree of ease. I refer to the use of
"counseling" made popular by psychologists, psycho-therapists, coun-
selors, and others--uses which are identified by such labels as
"directive," "clinical," "client-centered," "non-directive," "eclectic,"
and so on. What is known as "direct" counseling is probably closer in
use to "advising" than are the remaining notions of counseling. As I
understand it the person who sees himself as a directive counselor
typically gives advice to his counselee. The same is true though to a
lesser extent, with the clinical counselor. But, the most fruitful
contrast to work on here between counseling and advising is that between
client-centered counseling and advising. Before treating this matter
more fully, it will be helpful to set down in general terms some of the
features which seem common to all types of counseling gpg_advising.

Central to all these notions is that of helping another person in some

89

difficulty though admittedly the way in which "helping" is interpreted
varies significantly throughout the different interpretations of
"counseling." I shall comment shortly on the distinction in this
respect of procedure (and objective) between non-directive counseling
and advising in particular. The help that is administered typically
comes in response to a deficiency or need, to a problem or difficulty
or puzzlement of one kind or another on the part of some person.
Counselors and advisers alike have the best interests of their clients
in mind in whatever they do ggg_counselor and ggg advisee. Both
attempt to "see," to understand, their client's situation from the
latter's point of view to the extent that this is possible though I
believe the adviser will make use of what he sees in formulating advice
whereas the counselor will not--at least not a client-centered counselor
because he does not advise. Neither counselor nor adviser considers
himself to be in a position of authority over his clients though
advisers may see themselves as gp_authority in some area. Nor do
advisers and counselors conceive of themselves as disciplinarians.

So there clearly is some common ground here among these notions in
question.

In my limited reading on the subject of counseling I have come
to the tentative conclusion that the concept counselors and other
related professionals have of advising is often times inaccurate.
Since such inaccuracies blur rather than clarify the distinctions
between counseling and advising and since they may also influence
attitudes negatively towards the activity of advising it is important

11) bring out briefly some of the misleading things that are said about

9O

advising. For example, one person suggests that the methods of advising,
can be classed as “persuasive"44 among other things; another that
advising amounts on the one hand to exerting a "controlling and direct-

45 on the client and, on the other, to "dominance"46 of the

ing force"
speaker over the client. Another counselor47 refers to advising as the
"amorphous stage" in the development of the notion of guidance
(counseling) and as the "unsystematized" attempt at helping others.

Yet another says that advising is "an attempt to manipulate,"48 and
finally one says that advising is a “mere" activity and one doomed to
failure since students are either incapable or unwilling to act on
advice.49 I shall not answer these "charges" in detail other than to
point out what I have already argued. I have said that advising is
neither persuading (in the normal sense of that term) nor ordering nor
commanding where we typically expect to be "controlled," "directed,“
"dominated." To suggest that these terms have a place in advising

contexts is plainly an error. Further to suggest that advising is a

primitive and outmoded procedure lacking the necessary complexity and

 

44E. C. Williamson, Counseling Adolescents (New York: McGraw-
Hill, 1950). p. 233.

45
46

 

Arbuckle, Counseling: Philosgphy, Theory and Practice, p. 252.

 

Arbuckle, Guidance and Counseling in the Classroom, p. 179.

 

47Carlton E. Beck, Philosophical Foundations of Guidance
(Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall Inc., 1964), p. 55.

48Charles L. Lacy, "The School Counselors Dilemma: To Advise
or Not to Advise," Catholic Educational Review, LXXVI, No. 14 (May,
1969), 883.

49Michael J. Frederick, "Counseling is More than Giving Advice,"
Efljcggo Schools Journal, XLVI, No. 6 (March, 1965), 257.

 

 

91

sophistication to do a job in helping others is (perhaps) to confuse
what advising has been in the past with what it can be (within the
logic of its structure). In addition there is a fairly widespread
view among counselors that in advising another person we are in fact
deciding for that person what he is to do in the situation and that

if he does not do it our advising has been a failure. But there is no
logical commitment in advising to the effect that advising j§_deciding
for the advisee as I argued in the first section of the chapter. And
we have also seen that with advising there is more than one kind of
success or failure, so that given one kind of failure--say that of the
advisee to act and bring about his objective--there is not necessarily
a failure in toto. There is, it would appear, considerable conceptual
confusion among counselors about advising. My treatment of advising
suggests that they should attend to a more thorough analysis of this
concept and its relationship to counseling.

These I believe are some of the misleading ways in which many
counselors and people connected with counseling handle the notion of
advising. These errors are serious and are in part responsible for
the rather negative attitude towards the notion of advising which many
counselors and others seem to have. Logically speaking there is not a
good reason for this attitude. The attitude results from a failure to
see how advising as a concept functions. Both advising and counseling
are complex activities but (apart from direct counseling) they function
‘fOr largely different objectives and with somewhat different clientele.
onthing is to be gained by suggesting that one is inferior to the other

in doing a certain job because on the whole they do different jobs in

92

different ways in different situations. Let us examine this matter

now. Earlier in this section I noted some of the ways in which advising
and counseling differ primarily in respect of procedures to be followed
with the client (as opposed to objectives to be reached). Listening,
for the counselor (we saw) is extremely important. It is meaningful to
say "I counseled Smith this morning but just listened to him." That is,
the utterance "I counseled Smith but didn't ggy_anything to him" is not
at all contradictory whereas "I advised Smith but I didn't say anything
to him" is contradictory. That counselor-talk is not essential to
counseling is reflected also by the fact that the (non-directive)
counselor makes no judgments or evaluations nor does he suggest to the
client that he ought to do this rather than that. (Of course this

fact also reflects the counselor's own professed uncertainty about pj§_
being in a position to know what is the best thing for his client to do.)
The counselor prefers to leave the discovery of such matters to the
client himself. The "help" given to the client by the counselor is one
of simply being present with the client, re-assuring the client through
his quiet presence, attending sympathetically to what the client says
and reacting to the client's emotional expressions by a similar emo-
tional response, that is, by "mirroring back" as it were the client's
own emotional state. In all of this the counselor's facial expressions,
nods of the head, "hm-hm's," etc., play an important role. The point
of this procedure, as I understand it, is to enable (at most) the
client to uncover the ggg§g§_of his disorder or difficulty and (at
least) to face his weaknesses, limitations and strengths realistically

so as to be able to cope better with himself and the external world.'

93

The procedure in short is aimed at increasing the self-awareness and
self-acceptance of the client: and it is, by the nature of the case,
incompatible with such utterances as "I counsel you to . . . ." In
counseling of the kind in question one eminently does not counsel
another py_saying to him "I counsel you . . . ."

Advising on the other hand necessarily is a linguistic
activity involving talk not only by the adviser but also the advisee.
Unlike the counselor the adviser makes and expresses judgments and
evaluations respecting what he thinks the advisee ought to do in a
situation. Whereas the counselor professes an uncertainty on this
matter, the adviser evidently expresses (at least limited) confidence;
but then, as I noted, counselors and advisers deal with different
gypg§_of clients and where certainty or confidence about what to say
or do with one type of client is appropriate it need not be so with
another type of client. Advisee-talk consists, in part, in expressing
what it is that puzzles the advisee, or expressing uncertainty about
how to achieve his objectives, as well as consisting of the client's
describing his relevant interests, attitudes and background situation.
So in advising the talk of necessity is two-way whereas in counseling
it is essentially one-way from counselee to counselor. In counseling,
the person whose talk is significant is the counselee's; in advising
the~talk of both parties is significant. Further we note that when
counselees resolve their problems they do so typically without the aid
or benefit of reasons given by the counselor. Reasons for the counse-
les's doing one thing rather than another are withheld from him by the

counselor whereas in advising someone the adivser (logically) gives'

94

reasons for the advice he offers his client. When an advisee makes a
decision to do one thing rather than another it is done with the benefit
of reasons given him by the adviser. Reasons given by the adviser are
essential to being advised; reasons given by the counselor are detri-
mental to being counseled; or so it seems.

"Counseling" as it is used by client-centered people (and to a
lesser extent by others) is rather closely connected to the notion of
psychotherapy. The overlap between counseling and psychotherapy picks
out in part the types of problems counselors commonly see themselves
encountering and treating in counseling sessions. Thus the emphasis in
(client-centered) counseling is treatment of personality and (or)
emotional disorders--fears, anxieties, prejudices, distresses, super-
stititons, guilt feelings, depressions, and so on. In effect the notion
of counseling as it is increasingly understood deals with "disturbances"
of a relatively deep psychological kind. Even the school counselor, as
Arbuckle reminds us, may have a job to do in therapy in addition to his
(normal) tasks of vocational guidance, aptitude testing, and so on. He
writes "the teacher-counselor . . . should be able to function as

counselor with disturbed children . . . ."50

Now the stress on psycho-
therapy in counseling, on the treatment of personality and emotional
disorders and on the general objectives of helping clients to greater
self-awareness and self-acceptance are, to put matters plainly, outside
the domain of advising. Doubtless some people may experience a renewed

or enriched self-awareness upon being advised and if so, so much the

 

50Arbuckle, Guidance and Counseling in the Classroom, p. 113.

My emphasis.

95

better. But one does not advise another in order to heighten that
other's self-awareness or one's self-acceptance: rather the point is
that unless one has already attained a degree of self-awareness and of
self-acceptance and unless one is already at a level of emotional
stability one is not a candidate in the first place for receiving
advice about what one ought to do in certain situations. So we might
say that self-awareness and acceptance and emotional and personality
stability are necessary conditions of advising a person; and to the
extent that counseling is one method, the aim of which is to bring
these things about, counseling may be said to be a temporally prior
activity to advising in some situations (though not a logically prior
activity). For an emotionally unstable advisee, counseling precedes
advising; to be in a position to be advised one must be (at least)
emotionally stable, have a fairly clear conception of oneself, and be
aware of the external world. To the extent that these do not obtain in
the person then advising (for him) cannot take place though counseling
can and maybe should. Arbuckle is clearly correct when he says that
there "would obviously be much more of an argument for the offering of
advice to a rational individual under no stress or strain, than for
giving advice to a highly disturbed individual who might clutch it as a
complete answer to his difficulties, or reject it and the counselor

5] Thus the lines of demarcation between counseling (non-

completely."
directive) and advising are fairly sharp. To mix the two is to invite
additional aggravation of the client's existing problems. Extreme

anxiety is to be met with a calm, accepting counselor and a

 

5AArbuckle, Counseling: Philosophy, Theory and Practice, p. 252.

96

nonjudgmental attitude, not a piece of advice. The situations in which
we advise are radically different from those in which we counsel. These
are different ways of dealing with people at different levels of per-
sonal development or deficiency, in differing contexts. The two
activities of advising and counseling are not to be assimilated or
conceptually tied to each other save at a very minimal level. It is
false that in order for one to be advised one must have been previously
counseled. It is true that there are situations in which counseling
could make it possible ultimately for some people to be advised. In
some situations counseling goes before advising.

I shall now consider the concept of recommending. Advising and
recommending are closely related concepts. In many contexts in which
"advise" is used, "recommend" could be substituted without change of
meaning; and conversely. But the two concepts are not equivalent as we
may see from examining the following locutions: recommending . . . ;
recommending Egg; . . . ; recommending Eg.. . . ; and recommending
fgp_. . . . Examples of these are: (i) nI recommend your (his, their)
seeing the president at your (his, their) earliest convenience"; (ii) "I
recommend that you (she, they) seek the presidency"; (iii) "I recommend
you (him, them) to the president"; (iv) "1 recommend you (him) for the
presidency." Not all these locutions have exact parallels with our
advising locutions discussed in Chapter 1, Section 2.1. For example,
"I recommend you fg[_the presidency" has no opposite number on the
advising side. We do not say "I advise you fg[_the presidency."
Admittedly there is a third person use of "advising" as instanced by

someone asking why you advised him to do such and such and your replying

97

"I advised him fgg_perfectly good reasons"--though this utterance
normally has a hollow ring to it. But in making such a reply you are
not thereby advising someone whereas in saying "I recommend yOu for the
presidency" you are recommending. So there is a clear performative use
for "I recommend you for . . ." but not for "I advise you for . . . ."
A second difference between advising and recommending is that
the former but not the latter has a non-evaluative use. I have referred
to this use of the concept advising as the apprising of fact-stating
use; and the locution which is suited for this particular use of the
concept is the "advising that . . ." locution. Suppose the President
is traveling abroad and he says to his foreign host "I advise (you)
that the United States is now on year-round daylight saving time.“ In
saying this the President is reporting a fact or apprising his host of
the situation in his own country with respect to matters of energy
conservation. Now it is interesting to note that there is no corre-
sponding apprising use of the concept recommending. "Advising that . .."
and "recommending that . . ." do not square with each other. The
President could not say to his host "I recommend ppg§_the United States
is now on year-round daylight saving time" for this utterance would
have no meaning. To be sure the President could say something like
this to his host, "I recommend Epgt_you go on daylight saving time
too" but such an utterance is non fact-stating. In it the President is
urging his host §g_adopt a daylight saving time policy for his (the
host's) country. The difference here between advising and recommending
may be expressed as follows. The "advising that" use of the concept

advising picks out an apprising function while the "recommending that"

98

use of the concept recommending picks out an gppraising function of

 

that concept. In other words, and appearances to the contrary, the
utterance "I recommend ppg£_you do such and such“ is an appropriate
replacement for "I advise you §g_do such and such" but not a replace-
ment for "I advise you §pg£_such and such is the case." This last
utterance has no counter-part or opposite number (as it were) on the
recommending side. So "recommending that" is at home with "advising
to" whereas "advising that" on the one hand and "recommending for" on
the other are each in their own right without respective counter-parts.
Moreover "recommending pg? is by no means a parallel for "advising pg,"
I could not replace "1 recommend you to the president" with "I advise
you to the president." The latter is grammatically awkward if not
unsound and it may be so for this reason: the use of ”recommending to"
is not aimed at the addressee's action whereas the use of "advising

to" is so aimed. When I say "I recommend you to the President" I am
placing the onus of acting on the President who in this example is the
"third" person and not on you, the addressee; but in saying “I advise
you to . . ." I place the onus for action on you directly, and not on
any third person. Often there is an element of "indirection" in
respect of action when "recommending to" is used which is not present
when "advising to" is used.

In summary then our list of recommending locutions does not
mirror the list of advising locutions very closely. Further we have
seen that for every use to which the concept recommending is put
there is an evaluative or judgmental dimension conceptually tied to it,

whereas with the concept of advising this is not the case with all its

99

uses. It does not follow however that because of this common evalua-
tive element found in the uses of "recommending" that each of (i) to
(iv) above has the same meaning. My recommending you fg[_the presi-
dency (iv) is not the same as my recommending Egg; you seek the
presidency (ii); nor is my recommending you §g_the president (iii) the
same as my recommending your seeing him (i). Each of these differs

in meaning but there is a judgmental aspect tied to them all, namely

a judgment that certain things are worth doing over certain other
things. Thus in uttering any of (i) to (iv) I am taken to have good
reasons for doing the things I recommend doing and against doing some-
thing else. In none of these cases am I stating that something is or
will be the case. Instead I am saying what I take to be desirable
moves for either you or someone else [in the case of (iii) and
possibly (iv)] to make. Needless to say it is this element of
appraising which runs through the use of ”recommend" that makes it a
suitable substitute for "advise" when the latter is used in its
"advising to" form, not however, when it is used in its "advising

that" form.

CHAPTER III

ADVISING AND REASONS

In the course of the previous chapter a number of references
were made to the connection between advising and having reasons for the
advice one gives. In the first section of this present chapter I pro-
pose to explore more fully the nature of this connection. This will be
a conceptual discussion essentially, and will not deal with the more
substantive matters such as the particular kinds of reasons that stand
behind pieces of advice or what would count as a good reason for
advising one to do thus and so. These latter issues, complex as they
are, will be the primary focus of the second section of this chapter.
The third section will deal briefly with the subject of reasoning in

advising.

3.1 The Connection Between Advising]

and Having Reasons

 

 

We might begin by noting that many of the examples of advising
used in the first two chapters make either an explicit or implicit
reference to reasons. In the first example of Chapter I, for instance,
Powys advises Hopkins to read certain authors and avoid others which
are not quite first rate because the former "will have a lasting

influence on (one's) work and lift it out of any provincial limitations."

 

1I am thinking here of the "advising to" or "action" use of the
concept rather than the "advising that" use.

100

101

And later on in the correspondence between these two men Powys advises
Hopkins “to go to the sea every day" because "we are all in danger of
being trapped by our environments" from which one can escape if “you

every day meditate even for a moment on the beauty and mystery of the
sea . . . . The smell of it, the sound of it, the sight of it should

enable you to forget . . . all the modern vulgarities and realize that
you are looking at what Homer looked at and all the long line of great

poets."2

In Example Three of the first chapter the reader is given as
a reason for being advised to stop smoking that "tobacco is a vile and
offensive weed" that "seriously injures the health.” A teenager whose
parents are divorcing, much to her chagrin, is advised by her columnist
“not to take sides," precisely because she cannot possibly know all the
sides to the matter--the relationship between husband and wife being far

"3 Hilaire

more "complex than the love between parents and children.
Belloc advises a young man to marry a woman "who is a widow, childless
and possessed of sufficient means“ and of good judgment and temper
because "she will understand men, she will not be too impatient of your
selfishness and folly, and you will be compelled to respect her."4
These examples of advising (and many more could be brought forward)
suggest that advising utterances typically are followed by reason-giving
clauses denoted by such words as "because" or "since," "for," "lest,"

etc. Thus it seems to be in order to say that "I advise you to do X" is,

 

2Blackmore, p. 89.

3Abigai1 Wood, "Split Parent Blues," Seventeen, July, 1968.

4Hilaire Belloc, "Advice to a Young Man," A Conversation with a
Cat (and Others) (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1931), p. 172.

 

102

in a sense, incomplete until a reason for advising one to do X is given.
The completed vision would then be "I advise you to do X because Y"--Y
being a reason for X, the advice, or more precisely, Y being a reason
for your doing X. The question I wish to raise is whether having a
reason-giving clause is a logical requirement of advising someone to do
something. Is it the case, logically speaking, that whenever anyone
sincerely says "I advise you to do . . ." (or words to that effect) one
is thereby committed to adding a "because" or “reason-giving" clause to
the advice-giving statement? IS it possible (i.e., conceivable) that
one could be said to give advice to another but not have a reason at

all for the advice he gives that other? Would this make sense? Would
we call it advising? Suppose someone said to you "I advise you to do it
but I don't know ggy_you should." Would you be able to make sense out
of what this person said to you? Would you say that you had been
advised?

In order to answer these sorts of questions definitively--
question which, at bottom, call for a specifying of the relationship
between the concept of advising and that of having reasons--let us,
following a suggestion of Thomas F. Green5 respecting procedure in con-

ceptual analysis, focus on the relationship between two statements

 

rather than two concepts. Suppose the two statements, one about the
giving of advice, the other about the advisee's having reasons are as
follows (and represented by p and q respectively): "X advises Y to do

2“ (p) and "X has reasons for advising Y to do 2" (q). Our question

 

5Thomas F. Green, The Activities of Teachipg (New York: McGraw-
Hill Book Company, 1971), Chapter V, especially pp. 106-117. '

 

103

then is this: what is the nature of the connection or relation
between 'p' and 'q'?

We know that a conditional, e.g., p + q, asserts a relation
between two statements (like p and q) such that the truth of the conse-
quent q is a necessary condition for the truth of the antecedent p, and
the truth of the antecedent p is a sufficient condition for the truth
of the consequent q. In the present example, if the conditional p + q
is valid it will be possible to say both that a necessary condition
for X advising Y to do 2 is that X have reasons for his advice ggg_
further that knowing X has advised Y to do Z will be a sufficient condi-
tion for concluding X had reasons for advising Y to do 2. We could
then say that the statement about advising (represented by p) necessar-
ily implies the statement about having reasons (represented by q). How
do we test for this relation of necessary implication? We could try to
show either that denying q while asserting p yields a self-contradiction
or that by denying q we are thereby committed also to denying p. Since
these are equivalent tests either will do the job for us. In terms of
the present example the tests are as follows: if denying that X has
reasons for advising Y to do 2 while still asserting that X advises Y
to do 2 yields a contradiction or if denying that X has reasons for
advising Y to do Z also commits us to denying that X advises Y to do Z
then "X advises Y to do Z" logically implies "X has reasons for advising
Y to do Z." But if these tests fail--if for example denying q while
asserting p is not contradictory we will know that the relation between
p and q is at least not one of necessary implication. Our procedure

here is to try to imagine or conceive of cases where the conditions I

104

have just specified do pg;_hold--cases where we could still say
(meaningfully) that someone is advising another person even though the
former has no reasons to give for his advice. Failure to come up with
such examples, however, would show both that a necessary condition of
advising someone to do something is that one have (or can indicate)
reasons and that knowing one has advised someone to do something will
be sufficient to conclude he has (or knows of) reasons.

Suppose you visit your doctor for your annual physical examina-
tion and that at the end of it he says to you "I advise you to slow
down and take things easier." Suppose that you have been feeling fit,
that you take yourself to be in a healthy condition and that, somewhat
astonished, you ask him "Why do you say this?" His reply let us say,
is "Never mind, just do as I say!" Now this reply could be interpreted
in a number of different ways. First, it could be that your doctor is
confused about the linguistic act he is performing. He could in fact
have found some rather disturbing symptoms (in spite of your feeling
fit) and, determined that you take better care of yourself, he might
have thought that he was, ggg_your doctor, ordering you to take life
easier though he somehow got the word “advise" into his utterance.

That is, he could have mis-used the word “advise" (unknowingly) all the
while thinking he was giving you an instruction to follow, and that by
so doing he was not logically committed to give you reasons for his
order--hence his reply “Never mind, just do as I say!" But if all of
this is true then this present case should not be coming up for examina-
tion here as a possible counter-example testing for logical implication
between statements like p and q since the case is clearly not one of‘

advising at all but one of giving orders.

105

A second possible interpretation is that by his initial reply
to you the doctor meant to say that while there are reasons for his
advising as he did, he believes that it would be unwise to disclose his
reasons to you at this time. So he flg§_reasons for saying "I advise
you to . . .“ but he declines from saying what they are. We might
think this a tactical error on his part or that in this case he is not
being a particularly good adviser but the fact that he says he has
reasons coupled with the position he occupies is normally sufficient to
remove our puzzle about his initial reply to your question. It seems
that his "Never mind, just do as I say" thus interpreted is not incon-
sistent with our description of him as advising you. An adviser's
failure to disclose reasons for his advice is not sufficient to deny
that he was advising--though, as I have indicated, it may suggest that
he is not a particularly good adviser. But that is a rather different
point.

Neither of these two interpretations of your doctor's reply has
provided us with the counter-example we need in order to Show that 'p'
does not logically imply 'q.' We might now attempt a third interpreta-
tion in search of our counter-example. Suppose that by his reply your
doctor means “Oh, I have (there are) no reasons, I just advise you to

slow down and take things easier," or to put his meaning slightly

differently, "I can't imagine why I said 'I advise you to slow down . ..

but I stand by it in any case." Now you would be cheated by this
reSponse and you would also be confused by it. You would be cheated
because as we use those expressions by which we advise another person

to do one thing rather than another it is always appropriate to ask Of

106

the user why he said what he said. You would never be thought to be
raising an odd or pointless question nor would you ever be taken to be
"out of order" in asking "What reason has he for advising me to do this
rather than that?" When, as in the present example, there is a con-
fession on the part of the adviser that he has (there are) no reasons
you wonder what he could possibly mean. In the absence of some explana-
tion (as for instance the one given a moment ago in which it is
suggested your doctor may have meant to give you an order rather than
advice) you do not think that he has advised you at all. Your confu-
sion or puzzlement arises from the inconsistency in the idea that your

doctor utters "I advise you to . . . without being able to say why
(for what reason) you are advised to take things easier. If all he can
say is that there are no reasons for advising you to take things easier
then clearly it is the case you should not take things easier unless,
of course, you want to. So his utterance "I advise you to . . . but
there is no reason why you should" reduces to "you should take things
easier but you also should not." In terms of our earlier designations
'p' and 'q' we can say that the conjunction of p (your doctor advises
you to . . .) and not q (your doctor does not have reasons for advising
you to . . .) is self-contradictory. Thus "X advises Y to do 2" does
seem to entail "X has or can show reasons for advising Y to do Z" and
thence “having or showing reasons," we can say, is logically tied to
the notion of advising. So at least part of what is meant by "advising
someone to . . ." is that one as adviser has reasons for so advising.

There cannot be any advising in the "advising to" sense without there

being reasons for the advice. An adviser's having or showing reasons

107

i§_a necessary condition for his advising and his having advised some-
one to do something is a sufficient condition for saying there are
reasons: otherwise his use of "advise" is unintelligible.

Let us return to the question I posed near the outset of this
section. I asked whether in sincerely saying to someone "I advise you
to do such and such" I am logically committed to adding a "because" or
"reason-giving" clause to my advising utterance. Would it make sense
to say I can use "I advise you to do . . ." without also having to use
"because . . ."? Evidently the answer here is "yes" insofar as the
structure of the performative ("I advise you to . . .") itself is con-
cerned. There is nothing in that which would entail a further utter-
ance of the kind "because so and so." For, "I advise you to . . ." is
a complete linguistic unit as it stands. But in using it to advise
someone to do something I am opening the way for the use of a "reason-
giving" clause. This is a consequence of the claim (made in this
section) that advising someone to do something necessarily implies the
existence of reasons for the advice. So the requirements for the use
of the concept advising supervenes on the requirements for the use of
the performative "I advise you to . . . ." Though I need not follow
the utterance "I advise you to . . ." with a "because" clause it must
be the case that I ggglg_do so (if called upon) or that someone else
could do so for me. Thus to use "I advise you to . . ." I must know
there are reasons for the advice I give you even though I myself may
not be able to say specifically what they are. I may have to refer my
advisee to someone else who can say what the reasons are. If I give
advice there must be someone who can say what the reasons are even if

I cannot.

108

Advising then is by no means an arbitrary or free-floating
activity. It is grounded in the notion of the adviser's having
reasons. This, I take it, is what gives "force" to the notion of
advising--the force deriving from the fact that there are reasons for
a person advising you to do one thing rather than another. An advised
course of action we can say, has the backing of reasons. It is a con-
sidered course of action--one reached by deliberation on the part of
the adviser. Moreover the force of reasons is one of the features
which picks advising out from other activities like commanding or
pleading with someone to do one thing rather than another where reasons
are not typically appealed to.6 Also in Chapter I (towards the end)
where I drew a distinction between the two central uses of the concept
advising, namely the "advising to" use and the “advising that" use I
said that sometimes the "advising that" use of the concept may precede
and be preparatory for the "advising to" use. We may not provide
additional meaning to this claim. Recalling that the "advising that"
use of the concept is one of apprising someone of the facts (as it
were), then a sense in which "advising that" is preparatory for
"advising to" is the sense in which having information about such and
such a matter may count as a reason for advising someone to do one
thing rather than another. It is perfectly in order to say that as an
adviser I first apprise myself of a certain situation and then secondly,
use the information I obtain as a reason for giving you a certain piece

of advice. In other words I may be said to advise myself that such and

 

such is the case in order to have a reason for advising you to do this

 

6See Chapter II, Section 2.3.

109

rather than that. So we see that the "advising that" use of the con-
cept of advising can have an important role to play in conjunction with

the "advising to" use of the concept.

3.2 Reasons in Advising

 

When I advise you to do such and such I logically imply that I
have (there are) reasons for my advice. Turning this claim around it
seems to follow that when you ask me for advice about what to do in some
situation, you are asking me, in part at least, for reasons why you
should do one thing rather than some other thing. So in asking for
advice one is asking basically for two things: (a) what to do, and (b)
why do this rather than that. As we just saw in the first section to
answer (a) but not (b) is to fall short of advising someone. This is a
logical point about advising and of itself does not help us specify the
kinds of reasons that one would give in responding to (b). All it
claims is that in advising someone to do something reasons must be
given. But in what do these reasons consist? To what does or would one
appeal, given consideration to, in reaching a piece of advice? Are
there any general sorts of considerations that we could identify quite
irrespective of the particular kind of advice being given?

Let us try to approach these matters through an analysis of the
situations in which the giving of advice to another person normally
arises. A common situation, and one alluded to in the foregoing para-
graph, is one in which advice is sought or asked for by a person who is
uncertain, puzzled or confused about what course of action he or she
should follow. Unlike a command or order, a piece of advice is some-

thing for which one asks. A second situation is that in which a person

110

by virtue of the Office he holds is vested with authority to give advice
to others who stand in a specifiable relation to the office-holder even
though (or even when) his advice is not sought by those persons.
Examples of this situation are: parents giving advice to sons and
daughters though it is not sought; managers to their staffs; rulers to
their subjects; and so on. The scope of the advice given by the office-
holder is normally restricted by the nature of the office in question.
Thus rulers are in a position to advise their subjects on matters of
public concern that are deemed to affect national interest, not on
private and personal matters. Managers may advise their staffs on
matters relating to the running and conduct of a business but not on
matters outside and beyond. A third situation evidently is that in
which one gives advice to another even though the former is not in a
position to offer it and even though the latter does not seek it. This
advice is at once both unsolicited and volunteered by persons not in
the relevant position. As such it is commonly ill-considered and thus
not well received or unwanted; and unwanted advice, almost as a matter
of definition, is unheeded advice.

I shall assume that the main genuine situations in which advice-
giving can arise are those of the first two kinds typified respectively
in this study by the two lead-off examples in Chapter I, namely the
case of Hopkins seeking advice from the poet Powys on what one should
do to become a poet and Lord Chesterfield offering unsolicited advice
to his son respecting conduct appropriate for a young gentleman. In
'the discussion that follows on the kinds of considerations in light of

vvhich pieces of advice are given, I shall concentrate primarily on

111

advising situations of the first kind noted above rather than the . ”-
second. There are a number of reasons for this. Generally, cases of
advising that arise in the first type of situation are somewhat more
specific and concrete and hence a little easier to get hold of.
Secondly, the same sorts of reasons for the giving of a piece of advice
to another will apply in a general way to both situations as will the
general logical and other conditions. For instance, advisers in the
first situation as well as the second must be in the appropriate posi-
tion to offer advice though what counts as appropriate for the former
situation will not so count in the latter. As we shall see in the next
chapter, to be in a position to advise in the first situation involves,
among other things, having the relevant knowledge, expertise and
experience in some domain, not in holding an office. That is, it
involves being gp_authority in some respect rather than being jg_
authority as advisers in the second situation find themselves. Thirdly,
and in anticipation of certain objections to our discussion of the
teacher as a moral adviser (Chapter V) it will be more defensible to
conceive of the teacher in a situation of the first kind rather than
the second. A stronger case can be made for the teacher as moral
adviser if we consider him (her) as one whose moral advice is sought

by a student rather than as one whose unsolicited moral advice is given
as a matter of duty or as part of one's role ggg_teacher. It is better
(in this case at any rate) to give moral advice when asked and to give
it in virtue of one's understanding and experience than to give it when

not asked and in virtue of one's position of authority.

112

Now to say that the giving of advice to another arises from
situations in which one is confused, puzzled or doubtful about what to
do and who thence seeks advice is not saying as much as one might think.
For being confused (etc.) about what to do in respect of some matter is
by no means a sufficient condition for seeking advice. Asking for
advice in such a situation could be the logically inappropriate thing
for which to ask. A grade ten mathematics student, for instance, is
confused about finding square roots of numbers. What he needs however,
is instruction of some kind, not advice. He needs to be shown (taught)
the procedure for finding square roots. Since this procedure is a
fixed and precise one and one on which there is complete agreement
there is no (logical) room here for seeking advice on the matter even
though one is confused. For in asking for advice on what to do here,
the student would, in his question, be presupposing that alternative
ways are open to him but that one way among the many may be better or
superior and thence the one to follow. This is the wrong domain in
which to make those presuppositions and thus the wrong domain in which
to seek advice. We speak of Egg method for finding square roots but not
Egg method for becoming a poet, painter or puppeteer. It is the latter
not the former domain, normally, where it would be appropriate to seek
advice given one's puzzlement or confusion about how best to procede.

I suppose what this really shows it that one's being confused, puzzled
or doubtful about what to do in certain sorts of situations but not

others constitutes a sufficient condition for seeking advice. Unless

 

one had a doubt, puzzle or query of some sort it would not be con-

ceivable that he would seek advice though his having a doubt per se

113

does not inevitably lead to advice-seeking. For if one's doubts,
puzzles or confusions are about subjects that are themselves relatively
precise, fixed and certain then advice is not what we would ask for.

We might note here that the doubt and confusion would be all on
one side--the subjective side or the side of the agent. The external
objective side of the situation would be settled as in the case of the
method for finding square roots--a method which is beyond doubt or
question and in light of which the teacher can be said to kpgy_what the
student must do to solve his puzzle. But suppose the student is con-
fused about a matter which itself is unsettled and imprecise--a situa-
tion which I believe John Dewey would call "indeterminate"--that is,one in
which uncertainty exists on both sides, subjective and objective alike,
and where ready-made and explicit answers about what to do are by no
means forthcoming at least not immediately. Taking the indeterminacy
out of situations requires on the part of some observer with the appro-
priate skills and temperament, a careful analysis consisting in part in
the gathering of facts from both sides of the situation, objective and
subjective, assigning relative weights to the facts so gathered and
finally judging or deciding as to the best or most efficacious course of
action for one to follow. Thus the "first situation" as I have been
calling it in which it is appropriate to give advice--namely one in which
another person seeks it--is to be characterized in the way I have just
indicated, that is, as an indeterminate situation in which one with the
relevant skills reaches considered judgments as to the best thing for
another to do. To say that one seeks advice because one is uncertain,

doubtful (etc.), about what to do is not quite enough. Additionally'

114

there must be a certain imprecision on the objective side of the
situation as well. It is into this context that problems of a

"practical" nature fall.

Let us consider some typical cases of these: (a) there is the
case of the person who is uncertain as to his goals, aims or main
objectives in life--uncertain as to the sort of person he wants to be,
the sort of life he wants to live. He does not know what direction his
life should take or the Special orientation he should give to it. He
is unclear about what would constitute the best life for him or the
life most satisfying and productive or the greatest well-being for him.
Should he pursue a life of service to others, of cooperative endeavor,
of power and influence, of selfish acquisitiveness or of isolation? How
should he mold his life and indeed, what is possible for him given what
he is now and his background? A second case, (b), is that of the person
who has selected certain ideals or goals which he desires to pursue but
which he cannot pursue simultaneously because incompatible. He would
like to be a teacher, space engineer and company executive (or let us
say he thinks he would like to hold these positions) though obviously it
is not possible to follow all these courses together. He must there-
fore choose and his question is "Which one should I pursue" or "Which
career would I have the greatest personal interest in?" A third case,
(c), arises as follows: the person knows what he wants to do, be or
have but is uncertain as to the procedure by which he can best realize
the object of his wants. His question is: "How do you suggest I go
about this?" or "What should I do to become (get, have, etc.) . . . ?"

We need not, of course, restrict our examples to such grand and grave

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issues as life styles, careers and so on. Under case (a) for instance
we could consider the person who has a two-week holiday but does not
know what he wants to do with it. Where should he holiday--that is,
where should he go to enjoy himself most? Under case (c) we could have
considered the person who knows what he wants, namely a new car, but is
uncertain as to what kind of car he would most prefer. Obviously he
wants one from which he can derive a good deal of pleasure and satis-
faction; but which car would best do that for him?

We notice in these examples certain items to which reference
is repeatedly made. The first of these is the wants, desires, or
interests of the agents (advice-seekers) in question; and the second is
the concern of the agents to follow courses Of action that would bring
about a desirable state of affairs for them--a state variously referred
to as "satisfying," "pleasing," "of well-being," and so on. Suppose
then that you are an adviser facing these sorts of questions. What

would be suitable responses for one to make and what justification would

 

you give for your responses? There are certain preliminary moves

which are appropriate for one to make here. You would endeavor to
familiarize yourself at least to some extent with the "subjective side"
of the situation in which your advisee is placed. What for instance are
some of his interests, his attitudes or dispositions? What are some

of the experiences he has had; what abilities and capabilities does he
seem to have? But it may be that you are not able to ascertain suffi-
cient relevant information about the advisee to guide you in reaching

a piece of advice. This may be so particularly with situations like

that of case (a) above. It could be that your advisee does not

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presently have any clear opinions, likes or dislikes; and that his
experiences to date have been of a nebulous kind. Your advice would of
necessity have a generality it might otherwise not have. You recommend
his doing certain things on the basis that his doing so might lead to
his discovery of what it is he most wants to do with his life. Thus
you might say: "I advise you to read these novels and those biographies
and to reflect somewhat on what you find in them. I also advise you to
visit parts of the country or the continent where you have not been and
where you may expose yourself to life styles, customs and ideas that
differ from your own. It might also be advisable for you to enroll in
a general undergraduate program where you may initiate yourself into a
variety of forms of thoughts from the sciences through to the humani-
ties." Assuming that your advisee can do these things--that he can
read and has the ability to reflect on what he reads and that he has
the means whereby he may travel and/or enroll in a university or com-
munity college, then we could say that the over-riding consideration

in giving this kind of advice is that the exposure of the person to a
variety of situations and experiences seems to be the best means (if
followed) of helping him to see where his main interests lie and thus
what it is he might very well want to do with his life. The fact that
exposure to a wide range of situations is on the whole more likely to
generate these results than is exposure to one situation or a narrow
range of situations is a good reason for advising this person to read,
travel, and take some course work, other things considered. In sum,
the three general considerations that lead to your piece of advice are:

the facts that (i) your advisee wanted some direction and ultimately.

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wanted to solve his puzzle about what to do, (ii) he had certain

capabilities or cgpacities, and (iii) the projected consquences of

 

 

 

following one course of action over some other seemed likely to be more
efficacious than the possible available alternatives at hand. The
first two considerations clearly are related to the subjective (advisee)
side whereas the third picks out certain aspects of the external world
(objective side) with which the agent may profitably interact, at
least so far as we can tell.

Suppose that your advisee follows your recommendations either
in part or in full and subsequently returns to report that he has now
formulated much clearer notions about the sort of life he wants to
lead. He has, let us say, expressed a strong interest in pursuing two
life styles that are (however) incompatible or conflicting. This is
case (b). After discussing the matter anew with him you might reply
as follows: "Given what I now know about you--your heightened interests,
your capabilities and temperament, I would advise you to pursue the goal
of literary critic rather than that of company executive. To be sure
you have an interest in the latter and you would doubtless make a
contribution there, provide sound leadership, and withstand the inevit-
able pressures of business but it seems to me in light of what you have
said and done recently that your real interests and capabilities lie
with writing and working with the expressing of your ideas in the
cultural field. I've noticed that you experience a good deal of per-
sonal satisfaction in your creative writing. You have a flair here and
I think it would be more to your advantage, to your well-being in the

long-run, to follow a course in which you can regularly give expression

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to this creative side of your personality. You may end up not being
as wealthy as you would otherwise be (and only you can decide how
important that matter is to you) but you will be in a field where you
can do what I think at bottom you really want to do and have the
ability to do and which should therefore, be immensely satisfying to
you."

Unlike the former piece of advice which was advice about certain
gggg§_to some end this latter piece is about an ggg itself. While a
good deal of the advice we give is commonly about the best means to
take to obtain some desired end or goal it by no means follows that we
cannot advise about the ends themselves as the present example seems to
Show. The general sorts of considerations apply to both pieces of
advice. Indeed it does not seem reasonable that we could adequately
advise as to the best or most appropriate means without, thereupon,
taking into consideration the end desired; nor that we could advise as
to the best end or goal for a person without at some point a considera-
tion of the means to be taken. In the above example [case (b)] it was
judged that one end or goal (i.e., one career or life-style) was
"better" than another for the person in question--“better" in the sense
that given the facts about the advisee (his interests and talents) and
the facts about the possible ends or goals (being a critic yg, being an
executive) that literary criticism afforded, on balance, the life of
greater satisfaction or enrichment for this person than did the life of
company executive. Your advisee's interests, talents and temperament
along with the qualities and properties inherent in the activity of

literary criticism provide a better "fit" or "mesh" than other possible

119

combinations of subjective and objective conditions. So far as we can
tell your judgment (advice) respecting the most appropriate attainable
goal for this person to pursue, correctly weighted the life of literary
criticism over that of company executive.

To follow our theme here one step further, namely to case (c)
let us suppose that the advisee does decide to be a literary critic
and now seeks advice as to what he Should do to realize this particular
objective. This is the case (again) of Hopkins asking Powys what one
should do to become a poet and of Golding Bright asking Bernard Shaw
what one should do to become a drama critic (see Example Four, Chapter
II). These questions [as those in case (a)] call for advice about the
appropriate means to some desired end. That both Hopkins and Bright
had the abilities and the temperament for literary work were good but
not sufficient reasons for their being advised to follow certain ;
courses of action but not others. Why in fact did Powys advise Hopkins
to read the Odyssey and the Iliad (and other classic works but not those
of Chesterton and Belloc for example) and to visit the sea daily? Why
did Shaw advise Bright to get a ticket to the reading room in the
British Museum and to haunt Sunday evening political meetings? These
courses of action were seen by the advisers in question, respectively,
to be appropriate, indeed essential to developing certain necessary
literary skills, and thence to satisfying the desired objectives of
the advisees. As Powys noted, one's literary work is lifted out of
its provincial limitations by reading the classical works, not the
lesser works; and one's self-awareness and awareness of one's environ-

inent is heightened by daily visits to the sea and reflecting thereupOn.

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The consequences of acting on the advice are such that the advisee
would thus be in a position to do good literary work. Both Powys and
Shaw evidently realized that interaction with certain aspects of the
external world such as reading certain books, visiting the sea daily,
attending small political meetings, etc., was an instrument in generat-
ing certain qualities in the person conducive to creative writing. As
before it was a case of the adviser bringing together, in thought, sets
of facts both about the subjective and the objective sides of the
situation-~about the interests, abilities and capabilities of the
advisee on the one hand and properties inherent in certain external
objects and activities on the other. Had Hopkins, like Robert Louis
Stevenson, been an invalid and hence incapable of daily visits to the
sea then this fact would count as a good reason against advising him
doing these sorts of things.

The imprecision of the objective side here may be brought out
as follows. Imagine Shaw, not Powys advising Hopkins. It by no means
follows that Shaw's advise to Hopkins would be the same as Powys'

advice. Powys thought it essential to visit the sea daily in order to

 

heighten ones' self awareness; to read the classics in order to remove

 

one's writing from provincial limitations. Shaw would doubtless agree
with these objectives, i.e., with the value of removing one's writing
from provincial limitations but whether, in order to achieve this, he
would advise reading the classics is very much open to question. He
might believe it to be more appropriate for one to read contemporary
material or indeed to focus on the practice of writing. Thus it is

conceivable that each would have attached differeing weights to these

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procedures while agreeing about the value of the objective at hand.

In light of their own personal experiences, insights, and understanding
of literature and the world, Shaw and Powys could very readily offer
different pieces of advice to the same advisee respecting the most
appropriate means to be taken to a worthwhile end. This, of course,

is by no means detrimental to the notion of giving advice given the
nature of "practical" domains; and it certainly (and rightly) under-
scores the role of the advisee as decision-maker in respect of the
course of action he finally takes. That Shaw and Powys could offer

different advice here also highlights the fact that if the conditional

 

sentence is used to advise it needs to be construed as recommendatory-
like rather than either command-like or as specifying the indispensible
means to the end in question. The latter are (or can be) appropriately
used to answer questions of a theoretical nature (e.g., "What shall I
do to find the square root?“ or "What shall I do to become a doctor?")
whereas recommendatory-like conditional sentences are appropriately
used to answer questions of a practical nature ("What shall I do to
become a poet?"). Respecting the theoretical questions we reply in

the conditional as follows: "If you want to be a doctor then you mggp
attend and graduate from medical school"; whereas with the practical
question we may reply "If you want to be a poet then I ggyj§g_you

to . . . ." In the first reply we use "must" and fill in the "then"
clause with a specification as to tgg_indispensibly necessary means to
the end desired. In the second reply we use "advise" and leave the
"then" clause unspecified only to indicate that alternative means to

the end in question are possible. The presupposition of the reply to

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the theoretical question is that alternative courses of action as means
are not open to the agent given the nature of the end; whereas the pre-
supposition of the reply to the practical question is just the opposite
of this. Theoretical questions cannot be satisfied (answered ade-
quately) by practical replies. Thus practical words like "advise" or
"should" must not feature in replies to theoretical questions precisely
because of the presuppositions of these words. Conditional sentences
that use "advise" etc. in the "then" clause are thus suited to giving
answers to questions of a practical nature whereas conditional sen-
tences that use "must" or the imperative, "do," in the "then" clause
are not suited to reply to such questions: The one exception to this
claim is that use of "advise" which simply conveys information to
another. "What shall I do to become a doctor?" is thus responded to by
fBe advised Egg; attendance at and graduation from medical school is
required" which is no more nor less than "In order to become a doctor
attendance at and graduation from a medical school is required"--a fact
to be reckoned with for certain people. To return to our main theme and
to use a Kantian distinction here, if we choose to advise another person
pdeo one thing rather than another by using the conditional (hypo-
thetical imperative) we need to conceive of it not as an "imperative

of skill" but as a "counsel of prudence." The former specifies the
indispensibly necessary means to some end; and the person who seriously
desires the end is thereby committed to taking pgg_means to it. But

the counsels of prudence7 are “empirical counsels" of diet, economy,

7Immanuel Kant, Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals, .
trans. by Lewis White Beck (New York: The BObbs-Merrill Co., Inc.,
1969), p. 41.

 

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courtesy, restraint, etc., which experience shows best promotes our
welfare--though the task of "infallibly" determining what action will
promote well-being is, according to Kant, "completely unsolvable."

At any rate it is because in counsels of prudence wanting the end does
not analytically imply wanting the means that advice about means is
appropriate.

I turn now to draw together the various considerations which
are seen to justify the giving of one piece of advice over some other
piece. First, the fact that a person desires to do something (or to
have some object or particular experience) or the fact that he would
ggjgy_doing something (or having some object or experience) is normally
considered to be a reason for recommending to that person a procedure
for attaining the object of his desire or his enjoyment if he asks for
advice. That he merely pi§p3§_to have some object, experience, or
that some state of affairs come about, is not a good reason and indeed
is not a reason at all. For wishes are fanciful things expressed with-
out regard for what is empirically possible. I can wish that Paul
Revere ride again or that green forests grow on the moon. The fact
that the objects of my wishing are empirical impossibilities fails to
make my wishing outrageous. Further, and because my wishing disregards
the empirical possible, my wishing for something need not commit me to
expending any effort and energy towards realizing the object of my wish.
My wishing is thus not usually a moving or motivating force. To the
extent that the objects of wishing are typically not possible to
attain (empirically) then wishes do not count as reasons for advising

someone to gg_what it is empirically possible for him to execute. A

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person's wishes, that is to say, cannot be a constituent of a solution
to a practical problem about what another person should do in some
situation.

Desiring or wanting something on the other hand are more sober
matters. It would be odd if I claimed sincerely (and persistently) to
want something either for which no effort on my part is possible (or
needed) or for which I was not prepared to expend some effort and
energy to attain the object of my want. In the first alternative just
mentioned my want is really just a wish; and in the second I am, in
spite of my words to the contrary, simply not sincere in my wanting ;
something. For I cannot with consistency seriously want to have or do
something without at the same time being prepared or disposed to
follow some course of action calculated to bring to fruition the object
of my want. Wants (desires) have a "moving force" to them which
wishes normally do not. This presupposes that the objects of wants
normally are within the realm Of empirical possibility. These two
facts about wants, namely that their objects normally are possible to
attain and that they signify a disposition on the part of the wanter
to act, make wants and desires superior to wishes insofar as their
counting as reasons for giving a piece of advice is concerned. Of
course, impulses, it may be said, have a moving force to them too.

But just as we distinguish between wants and wishes we need also dis-
tinguish between wants and impulses. For impulses typically move us
without thought and attention being given to the consequences of our
movements. You could not use impulses to explain why you did something.

Indeed it is just in those cases where you cannot explain why you did

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something that you would likely appeal to impulses. "I don't know
what came over me. I just felt the urge to pull the trigger. Had I
been able to reflect about what I felt urged to do at that moment I
wouldn't have done it.“ Impulses are primitive biological drives or
forces that require or stand in need of transformation by thought and
reflection if they are to be channeled into more positive directions;
or that may be controlled by thought and reflection if (and when) they
would otherwise interfere with more efficacious courses of action.
Impulses so transformed may actually be our wants and desires; but
bare impulses are not. Wants are something that we can speak of
casting off or rejecting but we do not speak this way about our
impulses. We may use wants and desires to explain why we do things
but we do not use impulses for this purpose. Impulses are "blind."

We speak of objects of our wants but not of our impulses. Thus while
wants can be reasons for acting (though not all such reasons are wants)
it does not follow that impulses can be reasons for acting.

However, the fact that something is wanted, desired or prized
is not of itself a sufficient reason for advising someone to have the
object of his want or to advise him how he may obtain the object of his
want. What we want or desire is not necessarily worth wanting or
desiring. When one's wants and interests do not coincide with what is
desirable for one to have or to get then it seems we have a reason
against advising a person having or getting the object of his want.
(if he asks for advice). But what sense do we make of terms like
"desirable," "worth wanting (or having)" and so on. It is tautologous

but perhaps not entirely uninstructive to say that what is desirable'

126

for one (what is worth wanting) is that which is in one's best
interests or which promotes one's well-being over-all. But what then
would count as "being in one's best interests?" We may state the
negative case generally as follows. To the extent that having an
object (i.e., a thing, experience, or being in a state of affairs) or
undertaking some action either of which would be detrimental to one's
physical, mental or emotional health, or which would bring prolonged
suffering and pain to one, or which would collapse one's financial
basis, destroy one's property or which would violate the laws of the
land, then having the object or following the course of action would
not be in one's best interests. Of course very few people would
knowingly possess an object or follow a course of action either of
which would have these rather dire consequences for him though some-
times courses of action are pursued in which the unintended conse-
quences are of just such a magnitude. Thus if it could be shown to
someone that what he wanted involved following a course of action the
consequences of which would be of the kind just indicated; or if it
could be shown to him that his having some object is likely to generate
these sorts of results then what is wanted or possessed is not for him
worth wanting or possessing. Wants, desires, interests are judged
worthwhile or desirable for a person both in terms of the qualities or
properties of the object and in terms of the costs (benefits) to one
involved in getting the object in question. If the means whereby a
"desired" object is to be got is excessively risky or dangerous,
excessively time and energy consuming or if it involves the contra-

vention of laws with a resultant imposition of penalties on the agent,

127

normally we would conclude that the object in question is not desirable
for him. Though the object may be initially prized by the person it is
not worth the risks involved in securing it and therefore it is not

in his best interests to procure the object. We do, of course, sub-
ject ourselves to pain and suffering in the short term provided there
is a good chance of a continuing improvement in conditions thereafter
as, for example, undergoing surgery to sustain better health. Here the
means is risky but the end (continued good health) more than outweighs
the inconvenience of the moment--long-term interests taking precedence
over short-term ones. On the other hand some means to ends are (or
would be) themselves satisfying or enjoyable though the end, once
attained, discomforting or painful (as in, for example the case of a
person delighting in his plotting the death of his ruler yg3§g§_the
continuing remorse and guilt he feels once the act is atcomplished).

In the health example there is a good reason for the agent subjecting
himself to a painful and perhaps risky course of action. In the treason
example there is a good reason against pursuing a course of action
which the agent finds satisfying. These reasons would be that in the
former case the qualities of the end sought outweigh the cost of the
means and that in the latter the satisfaction of the means fails to
outweigh the price of the end. In the former the want (good health) of
the agent is worthwhile; in the latter, not--at least not for him.

I desire to pursue (let us say) a certain line of inquiry in my disserta-
tion; my doctoral committee recommends pursuit of another line. It is
in my best interests (worthwhile for me) to heed the committee's

recommendations otherwise the completion of my work may well be prolOnged

128

thereby imposing additional financial hardships on me and delaying the
development of my own professional career. These facts count as good
reasons for me to modify my proposal to meet the committee's approval
even though I desire to pursue a different course with the study.
Judgments about what is desirable or worthwhile for one or about
what is in one's interests are the result of complex evaluations about
the object desired and the best means to be taken in the light of other
possible alternatives. If the long-term costs of having a "prized"
object (costs in terms of harmful consequences, etc.) outweigh the
satisfactions to one in procuring it then one has a reason against
pursuing it even though the pursuit itself is something in which one ”
can take delight. On the other hand if the benefits of having some
object outweigh the costs of getting it and if it could be shown with
some good probability that the time, energy, and effort involved could
not be better spent in pursuing some other interest one presently has,
is likely to have or could have, then one has a good reason on balance
for pursuing the present object. So far as one's deliberations show,
taking account of the costs of the means, possible future desires and
other present desires, the present object is deemed worth having. Thus
from an advising point of view, the fact that a person wants something
or has an interest in something which is also judged desirable or
worthwhile for that person, an adviser has good reasons for recommending
the agent's getting the object in question--provided of course the
adviser is in a position to make the sorts of calculations or good
estimates involved (i.e., has the requisite abilities for advising as

discussed in the next chapter, Section 4.2) ggg_is asked by another for

129

advice. These reasons are the facts that what is wanted, if pursued
by the advisee on the recommendation of the adviser, would result in
the well-being of the advisee being extended rather than impaired (so
far as it is possible to tell). Alternatively, when the advisee's
wants do ggt_coincide with what is judged or deemed to be worthwhile
for him--when the object of his desires or the pursuit of it would be
detrimental to his well-being (so far as one can tell)--the adviser
has a good and perhaps over-riding reason against recommending a
course of action calculated to bring to fruition the object of the
advisee's desires, and a good reason for advising the pursuit of a
different objective. Although your advisee wants A you may (in some
cases) justifiably advise him against A. Your justification as before
is based on your best assessment or evaluation both of the prized
object and the costs to the person in attaining it in the light of his
other possible wants and the costs (benefits) of attaining those, etc.
With these things accounted for (at least in some way) you judge that U
either his pursuing his present desire would leave him worse off than
before or that if not worse off there are other interests he has which
if pursued would likely leave him better off overall than would the
pursuit of the present interest. You advise accordingly.

A further consideration or reason (along with the foregoing)
for giving one piece of advice rather than some other is the fact of
whether or not it is possible for the advisee to follow the advice
offered him if he chooses to do so. There are a number of senses of
"possibility" that we need to distinguish here. It should, first of

all, be legally possible for your advisee to act on the recommendation

130

you give him. By this I mean it should be possible for him to follow
your advice without violating the duly constituted legal laws in so
doing. Since it is normally the case that a person's violating such a
law is not in his best interests then in the fact that your advice is
such that your advisee is able to act on it without contravening the
laws you have a further good reason for that piece of advice; otherwise
you would have a good reason for advising differently. Secondly,
actions which are legally possible are also, of necessity, empirically
possible as are legally impossible acts. But in the category of
“empirically possible and impossible acts" we require two further dis-
tinctions. There are some actions that are empirically impossible for
anyone to perform and some that are empirically impossible for only
some to perform. Under the former head we place those actions which are
impossible to perform because they would contravene a physical law of
nature, examples of which would be jumping 100 feet into the air unaided
or running the 100 yards in three seconds. But whereas no one can jump
100 feet into the air some can jump six feet and others not. So under
the second head (above) we place those actions which are not in
principle impossible for anyone to perform but because of certain
deficiencies or incapabilities some persons cannot perform. Those who
are unable to jump six feet in the air differ from those who can in"
in that the former lack physical strength or body coordination (or
both)--though they may in due course develop these capabilities. This
is why actions for one that are empirically impossible in the second

sense of "empirical impossibility" are not necessarily always so, as

131

they are in the first sense of "empirical impossibility." We can
usually do something about the deficiencies, inabilities or incapaci-
ties that make an action impossible for one to perform (second sense)
but not the first, barring, of course, radical changes in the structure
of the universe itself. That it would be empirically impossible (first
sense) for your advisee to act on the advice you give obviously counts
as a good reason against that advice. This is why (as we saw earlier)
that wishes as distinct from wants do not normally feature in the con-
siderations from which a piece of advice arises. That it would be
empirically impoSsible (second sense) for your advisee to act on the
advice you are about to give him also counts as a good reason against
that advice. We need not continue to think here only of physical
inabilities or incapacities. Persons with mental or emotional distur-
bances are not capable in many situations of acting on advice. So
incapacities in these other ways would also count as good reasons
against giving at least certain pieces of advice. To put these matters
positively, in general we would say that a good though not sufficient
reason for advising a person to do one thing rather than another is '
that the action so prescribed is empirically possible for that person
in both the above senses: (i) the action would not involve counter-
instances to the laws of nature, and (ii) the advisee has the
capabilities and capacities for undertaking the course prescribed if
he decides to do so.

I have, I believe, identified three general considerations used
to justify the giving of one piece of advice rather than another to a

person: (a) the wants or interests of the advisee, (b) the desirability

132

of these wants or interests for the advisee, and (c) the relevant
abilities and capacities of the advisee. These considerations are to
be seen in the light of the general purpose or function of advising
another person. That purpose is to assist the advisee in making

a choice in solving a practical problem. This assistance takes the
form of the adviser's best judgment as to the most desirable or worth-
while objective, over other possible ends, for an advisee; or the
adviser's best judgment about the most efficacious means to follow in
attaining an end desired by an advisee. So construed, advising
typically is aimed at helping another promote or improve that other's
personal situation. Thus we might say that advising is character-
istically though not necessarily a prudential activity. When an
adviser says to another person "You should do such and such (to
enhance best your own position or interests) the "should" is essen-
tially prudential or self-regarding rather than others-regarding. It
presupposes there are good (prudential) reasons for your doing such
and such--that your following the advice in question will, as far as
one can tell, be to your own personal advantage over-all. The gain
will be your gain, not someone elses.

In the next chapter I argue that advising is also a moral
activity in the minimal sense of "moral'' there specified. We have
then the paradoxical-looking proposition that advising is at once both
a prudential and a moral activity. The appearance of paradox is in
part removed by recalling that advising is bi-polar. It can be
viewed from two positions, namely that of the adviser and that of the

advisee. From the advisee side of the activity we say that advising is

133

typically a prudential activity since it is the advisee who personally
stands to gain. The exception here will doubtless be the advisee's
acting on moral advice. From the adviser side of the activity advising
is essentially a moral enterprise for reasons to be offered in Section
4.1. At this point we might hazard to say that while the adviser is a
moral agent even in the giving of prudential advice since it is his

job to discount his own personal interests or at least not subject them
to gain in recommending a course of action to another, the advisee on
the other hand (ggg_advisee) is not a moral agent except possibly
where acting on moral advice is concerned. To the extent that a

person is unwilling or not inclined to put other people's interests
before his own at least on some occasions or in some situations it

does not seem possible that such a person could be in a position to
give prudential or moral advice nor himself to receive moral advice,
though evidently such a person could still receive prudential advice.

I shall have more to say on these matters in the chapters that follow.

3.3 Reasoning in Advising_

 

A certain amount has already been said on this subject over the
course of the preceding section. It will be helpful however to think,
at least briefly, in terms of formalizing somewhat our approach to
reasoning in advising to the extent we can and to envisage "arguments"
in terms of which "conclusions" about advice can be drawn. In doing
this we may expect to Show the "steps" leading to a conclusion and to
clarify the matter of the "connection" between the steps and the con-
clusion. Needless to say, this is not an attempt to show how advisers

actually reach the advice they give for that would necessitate an

134

empirical psychological study. I am not trying to describe how
individual advisers think but rather to indicate the form or structure
of a practical argument in an advising context.

The main constituents of such an argument would be (a) the
premises and (b) the conclusion. The premises would consist of the
kinds of considerations examined in the last section, to wit, state-
ments of the advisee's desires and interests; the desirability of
these objects for the advisee; and the advisee's capacities and capa-
bilities. The conclusion would consist of what the person is to be
advised to do, incorporating, of course, typical advising language.

Now we have seen that advice-seeking typically arises from problematic
situations in which the advisee is puzzled, confused or uncertain about
what to do, either because he does not know clearly what he most wants
to do, or because he has a number of objectives he desires to pursue,
some or all of which conflict, or because he does not know how best to
attain what he most desires to do (be or have). Wants (desires) are
the basis of prudential problematic situations in terms of which advice
is sought and they also form the basis on which desirability statements
about the worthwhileness of the objects wanted are constructed. The
first, or if we wish, major premise in the practical argument will thus
be a desirability statement about what action or object is deemed to be
in the best interests of the advisee (agent) given his particular situa-
tion. Of course, there may be a number of actions or objects open to
the agent and related to his situation which in varying degrees are
desirable for him in some respects but not others. So the desirability

statement in question may of necessity be a comparative statement of an

135

object's or action's worthwhileness for the advisee. The second
premise will consist of a statement(s) indicating the most efficacious
means to the object or action in question (taking due account, of
course, of the possible effects of other means open to the agent
including the likely effects of following the present designated
course on the possible future wants of the advisee and their worth-
whileness for him). The third premise will consist of a statement(s)
about the present capacities and capabilities of the agent (advisee)
particularly with respect to his being able or unable to follow the
course (means) specified in the foregoing premise.

Now this is rather cumbersome so let us simplify matters some-
what by taking three statements, each representative of one of the above
three premises and cast them into the following argument form:

1. A is desirable for X to have (do or be).

2. X's doing 8 will most appropriately enable X to have

(do or be) A.

3. X can do 8.

4. Therefore X is (best) advised to do 8.

As a practical argument this sets forth what should be said to X
regarding the best available means for him to take to some end. It is
clear that no one of the premises alone is sufficient to get the con-
clusion (4). From the fact that X can do B it does not follow that he
is thereby advised to do 8. Nor from the fact alone that A is
desirable for X does it follow that he is to be advised to procure A.
On the other hand it is also the case that if any one of (l) to (3) is
violated though the remaining two are not then (4) is pointless. If,

for example, A is desirable for X and A may be procured by doing B but

X is not capable of doing B, then (4) is unwarranted. Thus in thiS'

136

case the violation of (3) alone is sufficient for withholding (4). In
sum, (1) to (3) are necessary for (4). But taken together can we also
say that (l) to (3) are sufficient for (4) in either a logical or con-
tingent sense of "sufficient." The logical sense of "sufficient"
would commit us to the claim that a meaning connection between the
premises and conclusion obtains such that (4), the conclusion, could
be said to be entailed by the conjunction of (l) to (3). This will not
do for a number of reasons. First it would be impossible (self-
contradictory) ever to assert the premises but deny the conclusion.
Yet in practical reasoning this is precisely what must be possible.
For even though, in a given situation, (1) to (3) are asserted it could
be that other considerations call for the denial of (4) as for example
in the case of a moral concern over the effects of X's action, (8), on
the interests or well being of other persons in his community. If the
effects of his doing 8 would interfere with others in the pursuits of
their own interests or objectives then in that fact we would have a
superior or over-riding obligation to negate (4) despite the fact that
X's doing B is in pig own interests. In practical prudential reasoning
it does not follow that moral considerations do not figure.

A second reason why (4) is not entailed by the conjunction of
(l) to (3) is that entailment relations obtain necessarily between

statements and, strictly speaking, (4) is not a statement. Rather (4)

 

is a performance--not the advisee's action as one might think but the
verbal utterance (speech act) of the adviser. Recalling the work of
Chapter I, a performative utterance need not always be expressed in the

first person present indicative active of the verb, in this case,

137

"advise." In some cases [as in (4) of the present example] the use of
the third person in conjunction with the verb in the passive voice is

sufficient for a performative utterance.8

Though (4) is somewhat
formal-sounding it nonetheless advises. Writing (4) is thereby
advising. Thus (4) does not state anything is the case; it performs.
Entailment relations do not hold between statements on the one hand and
performances (verbal or otherwise) on the other hand. It is therefore
misleading to speak of (4) as a judgment. It would be more accurate to
say that (4) implies (loosely) certain judgments, namely those couched
in the statements (premises) in (l) to (3). By using "implies? in a
weaker sense than "entails" we preserve the possibility of rebutting
(4) without committing a logical error. A specification of the precise
strength of "implies" would take us into deep philosophical waters
which I do not intend to chart. Let it suffice to say that I believe
Kurt Baier's treatment of "presumptive implication"9 seems to come
closest to specifying the connection between (1) to (3) and (4) in

practical reasoning. To put these matters slightly differently we

cannot derive with certainty or show conclusively that (4) follows

 

8Austin, How to do Things with Words, p. 57.

 

9Kurt Baier, The Moral Point of View (A Rational Basis of
Ethics) (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1958), p. 102. "A
given presumption is rebutted if some other reason or combination of
reasons is found weightier than the one which has given rise to the
original presumption. In other words, the fact that I have a reason
for or against entering on the proposed line of action does not entail
that I ought or ought not to enter on it--it merely 'presumptively
implies' it. That is to say, it must be taken to imply that I ought
or ought not enter on it unless later on, in the weighting of considera-
tions, I find some that are weightier than this one. In that case,
the original presumptive implication has been rebutted."

 

138

from the conjunction of (l) to (3). fOne can never demonstrate a
practical conclusion unless one can predict with full certainty, all of
the consequences of all of the actions open to the agent (in our case,
advisee), and specify the agent's entire basis of action, his wants
present and future, and the relative desirability of their objects.

The sphere of the practical is necessarily the sphere of the uncertain;

this is the condition of significant action."10

At least the sphere of
the practical is uncertain given the present development of our knowl-
edge and predictive powers. Whether the sphere of the practical will
always be the sphere of the uncertain is a nice question. But at the
moment it is simply not humanly possible to make the kinds of precise
and detailed calculations that would be required for demonstrating (4).
To try to examine every aspect of a situation and weigh every reason
(etc.) is to attempt the impossible. We might, of course, as Gauthier
suggests attain demonstrability of a conclusion like (4) if "stringent
conditions are laid down for the relevance of reasons, if the possible
actions are fully determinable (and), if their effects are equally

."11 But this he correctly concedes is an artificial

determinable . . .
restriction of the context of the practical problem. As an answer to a
practical question like "What should he do?" (4), while a performance,

is action-guiding rather than action-determining. Further the "infer-

ence" from the premises to (4) cannot be said to establish the truth

of (4). Of course, since (4) is performative it evidently cannot have

 

10David P. Gauthier, Practical Reasoning (The Structure and
Foundations of Prudential and Moral Arguments and Their Examplification
in Discourse) (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1963), pp. 48-49.

11

 

Ibid., p. 48.

139

a truth value in any case. This claim is substantiated by the fact that
at least one of the premises, principally (l) is not a statement of what
really is desirable for an advisee but only what gggg§_to be desirable
for the advisee to the judging mind of the adviser. Thus we could not
say that (l) is true or false.

To complete our discussion in this section let us refer briefly
to the second major question posed a few moments ago about the premises

(taken together) constituting a sufficient contingent condition for

 

conclusion (4). To say that the premises (1) to (3) are sufficient in
the sense is to assert a causal connection between the premises and
the conclusion. But this interpretation is mistaken. Even though A
is desirable for X and X can do 8 (in order to get A) it does not
follow that one is thereby caused to advise X to do such and such.
Conditions (1) to (3) do not psychologically induce or otherwise force
or constrain one to say or write "X is best advised to do B." What
this means is that (1) to (3) are not motives for one's performance of
(4), but reasons. It is true, of course, that motives can also be
reasons for doing or saying something to another but false that all
reasons are thus motives. We have in the argument form on p. 135
reasons not causes for (4). The justification for (4) is the set of
reasons given in (1) to (3). We cannot say that (l) to (3) fully
justify (4) because, as noted earlier, it is not possible to say that
all of (l) to (3) are complete given the complexities of the calcula-
tions involved. Thus (4) is at best, reasonably well justified. The
advice, we would say, is sound; and that is the best we can say under

the circumstances.

CHAPTER IV

ADVISERS AND ADVISEES

This chapter, as the title suggests, is primarily about advisers
and advisees and in particular about the sorts of conditions which one
would have to satisfy if one were to be an adviser or if he were to be
an advisee. My principal objectives are to answer two questions:

(a) "Who can advise?" i.e., "What requirements have to be met before
one can be in a position to advise?" and (b) "Who can be an advisee?"
i.e., "What requirements have to be met before one can be in a position
to receive and consider advice?" By "requirements" I mean such things
as cognitive abilities, levels of emotional development, knowledge and
understanding. The requirements will not necessarily be the same for
both advisers and advisees and towards the end of the chapter I shall
indicate certain differences between the requirements for each group.

I shall also indicate how and why it is possible that some persons fail
to satisfy the requirements in question and thus how it is that not
just anyone can advise or be advised.

Since almost all the requirements I treat in this chapter may
be seen to "fall out," logically speaking, from our analysis of
advising in the preceding chapters, i.e., may be seen as logical conse-
quences of the analysis, it will be appropriate to speak of our
requirements as conditions for the roles of adviser and advisee. Thus

it is necessary to have the work of the previous chapters before us in

140

141

order to proceed with the work of the present chapter; for without the
former it would appear as though we were randomly and arbitrarily pick-
ing conditions out of thin air. In fact I have found that in order to
provide a relatively complete rendering of the conditions which
advisers and advisees respectively have to meet I have had to extend
the analysis of advising found in preceding chapters by building
principally on part of the work of Chapter III. While this extension
may appear to be a digression from the main theme of this chapter it is
not. I intend therefore to engage in further study of the concept of
advising in the immediately following first section as preparation for
a treatment of adviser and advisee conditions which follows in sections
two and three respectively where I attempt to answer the two questions

I posed a moment ago.

4.1 The Morality of Advising_

 

The question I propose to explore here is whether it is mean-
ingful to say that we have advised another person to do something with-
out at any point taking into consideration his background, dispositions,
purposes, interests, needs, feelings, attitudes, or some reasonable
combination thereof1 g£_gll? If we could say something like this--if
we urged a person to do "this" rather than "that" cOmpletely ignoring
his position and point of view would we still call this advising? I
think not. For even at the most general levels of advising--for

example, where we advise a whole class of people (of whose individual

members we know nothing) to do this rather than that we still assume,

 

1I shall frequently use the expression "another's position and
point of view" to cover this collection of items.

142

ceteris paribus, that they have certain basic interests or needs such
as interests in their safety, health and comfort. Signs or announce-
ments that say "You are advised to stop smoking," “You are advised to
avoid the footbridge," "You are advised to have your passports stamped
before docking" all assume that the relevant class of persons in
question have certain basic desires, interests, etc. to be satisfied;
and to the extent we make these assumptions at this general level of
advising we thereby take into consideration other people's positions
and points of view, albeit in a limited way, but sufficient given the
level of generality we work at in these kinds of cases. Of course at
more specialized levels of advising, examples of which I examined in
the previous chapter, it is apparently more than ever the case that we
take into account the interests (etc.) of the advisee. But why is this
so? What is there about the concept of advising which apparently
commits us to the stance that the advisee's point of view be taken
into consideration, though not necessarily only that?

The answer to this lies, I believe, in the grammar of advising.
In Chapter II I examined three grammatical constructions--the imperative,
subjunctive and ought sentences; and I showed that each despite its many
different uses has the logical structure required of any sentence which
is used to advise another person to do something. The construction most
apposite for our present discussion is the subjunctive, "If I were you
I would do . . ."; and I turn now to re-examine it ggg_advising
utterance and in particular the first part of the utterance namely "If
I were you." Let us treat this expression in as literal a way as

possible. What then could we say is the intent of the phrase ”If I were

143

you"? When we sincerely use this expression in addressing another
person what is suggested is the speaker's conceiving of himself
temporarily taking leave of his own position and point of view to take
up that of the addressee. In other words the expression "If I were

you I would do . . ." is simply a truncated version of "If given my
particular background, understanding, etc. I could take up or cast
myself in your place and look at the world from your point of view with
your particular interests, feelings, etc., then I would do such and
such."' Are we in fact justified in making this expansion of "If I were
you . . ."? I believe we are for all I have done is to replace in the
"if" clause of the original subjunctive sentence the words "I" and "you"
with descriptive expressions that have the same referent as "I" and
”you" respectively. Thus in place of "I" we have the description "my
particular background, understanding etc."; and in place of “you" we
have "your particular interests, feelings, etc.“ The verb "were" of
course is replaced by an equivalent enabling expression, namely "could
take up.f In fact this expansion as it turns out is just a restatement
of the conception of advising I articulated in an earlier chapter.

There I said that in advising another person to do one thing rather

than another our advice must be such that, other things considered, it
would most probably be the sort of thing the advisee would himself
choose to do if he had sufficient understanding of or insight into the
situation. That is to say that one's advice to this person would be the
sort of thing he would doubtless do if he were somehow to combine his
own position and point of view with what the adviser knows and can offer.

It is this marriage between the advisee's present point of view and.

144

conception of the world ggg_the adviser's understanding of the world
that one tries to execute in advising another py_conceiving of oneself
temporarily taking up the advisee's position. Thus the "direction? or
"flow" so to speak in advising is from that of the adviser leaving his
position and moving over imaginatively into the position of the
advisee, and not the converse of this. This difference in direction
or flow is just the difference between (i) "If I were you I would

do . . ." and (ii) "If you were me you would do . . . ." It is the
former utterance not the latter, or not normally the latter, which is
used by one person to advise another. For it is not a requirement of
advising that the advisee conceive of himself taking the position and
point of view of the adviser, which is the suggestion of (ii), at least
not in the way in which the adviser conceives of himself taking the
point of view of the advisee, which is the suggestion of (i). It is
not a requirement for at least two reasons; first, the advisee is not
expected to have the understanding and experience in the relevant
domain which the adviser is expected to have, and second, it is not
normally the case anyway that the adviser's personal orientation is a
relevant consideration when advising another what to do. Now there is
a limit, of course, to the extent one person can look at the world
from another's point of view with that other's feelings, interests,
etc. In some sense of "same" I can have the same interests, feelings,
attitudes as you and I can imagine in some situations what you feel,
but I cannot have these feelings in precisely the same way as you have
them. In your case there is a logical privacy I cannot penetrate. To

have actually your feelings as you have them--to feel your guilt,

145

remorse, shame or to feel your puzzlement, confusion, anxiety, or
your joy, etc., as you feel all these is just to be you and that I
(logically) cannot be. This impossibility is recognized by the grammar
of "If I pg§g_you I pgglg_. . . ," i.e., by the use of ". . . were

. would . . . ." Thus the value of the subjunctive sentence ggg_
advising utterance over both the imperative and ought sentences is just
that it reminds us of these very requirements and limitations. As the
subjunctive sentence draws to our attention, it is the speaker (the
adviser) who conceives of himself in the position of the addressee
(the advisee) to the extent this is possible; and to this extent then
advising another is, in part at least, taking that person's point of
view into account (though not only that point of view).

Two conclusions follow. In advising another person to do some-
thing it seems to be a necessary but not sufficient condition that the
adviser take into consideration the position and point of view of the
advisee at some stage in the farmer's deliberations. To the extent
that one person who, in addressing another, neglects or fails to take
these matters into account then whatever it is the former may be said
to be doing it is not advising that person. A second conclusion
follows from the first. To the extent that a person takes into con-
sideration only his own position and point of view in addressing
another person thereby disregarding completely the interests and feel-
ings of that other, whatever it is the former may be doing it is and
cannot be advising. This is not a case of just giving bad or unsound
advice, rather of not giving advice at all. Unsound advise arises

from a misunderstanding of the advisee's situation because of having‘

146

incorrect information about the advisee or irrelevant information
leading to the drawing of erroneous judgments about what is in his
best interests. Having misunderstood the advisee's situation is not
the same as completely disregarding that situation. At one point in
his writings Jean-Paul Sartre discusses the case of one of his student's
trying to decide whether he should stay at home to look after his aged
mother or leave her to join the Free French Forces during the Second
World War.2 What should the student do? Should he seek advice?
Sartre says that "if you seek advice from a priest for example, you
have chosen this priest; you already knew, more or less, just about
what advice he was going to give you . . . . But some priests are
collaborating, some are just marking time, some are resisting. Which
to chose? If the young man chooses a priest who is resisting or
collaborating he has already decided on the kind of advice he is going

to get."3

This passage from Sartre is illuminating for its misconcep-
tions about the notion of advising--misconceptions which arise in
violation of the two conclusions stated a moment ago. For one thing
the Sartrean view of the adviser's function is self-defeating. It
makes (or could make) the asking for advice redundant; for all you
require ggg advisee on Sartre's view is some understanding of your
adviser's general orientation to life and the world, to his point of

view or to his over-riding personal commitments. Your having this

information is a sufficient condition for your having his advice; for

 

2Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism and Human Emotions (New
York: The Philosophical Library, 1957), pp. 24-28.

3

 

Ibid., p. 27.

147

his advice to ou, as I understand Sartre, would be nothing but a
statement of pig views and commitments. So you would have his advice
without asking for it! Further absurdities follow. Suppose you choose
an adviser, call him A, but that you are not clear what his general
orientation, point of view, etc. is. Suppose another person 8, does
know. So you ask 8 what A‘s orientation is and he tells you. In other
words you get A's advice not by asking A but by asking 8 what A's con-
ception of the world is! Who then really is your adviser? Also,
suppose you don't ask 8 or anyone else what A's orientation is but ask
A directly for his advice. What you get from A of course is not advice
but a statement of A's conception of the world. Yet when one asks for
advice one normally asks for an objective response to questions of the
kind "What ought I to do in this situation?" Indeed, ggg_advisee one
has a right to expect from his adviser a considered and impartial
judgment about what in all likelihood is the best thing for one to do
in the situation and not just a statement of the adviser's position and
of his own commitments. To the extent that Sartre's conception of
advising another consists of the adviser's expounding on the matters
just indicated, and only that, to the exclusion of considering the
advisee's position and point of view, our two conclusions are thus
violated.

My main claim to this point is that, among other things,
advising another person is taking into account the interests, etc., of
the advisee. Does this claim entail a further one namely, that of
promoting or furthering the interests of the advisee? The answer to

this is "no." Taking another person's point of view into consideration

148

is one thing, promoting his point of view or recommending a course of
action to him which if followed would promote that view is quite another
thing. Doing the former does not logically commit one ggg adviser to
doing the latter though it is usually the case in advising that we

take another's point into account so that we may better advise him,
that is to say, so that his interests will in all probability be
furthered. Thus while it may seem (or be) odd it is not self-
contradictory to say "I advised him to do what will not be in his own
interests, not even in the long run"--though some sort of explanation
is doubtless required to remove the oddness. Suppose that a person
whom you know, has committed a series of murders (unbeknownst to you)
and has thus far evaded the police. He then comes to you. He tells
you all and asks for advice about what his next move should be.

Suppose further that the death penalty for first degree murder has not
been revoked and that, upon consideration, you advise him to surrender
himself forthwith to the authorities knowing that his following your
advice will almost certainly result in his premature death. You could
hardly say that your advice was intended to promote or further his own
interests or that it was in his best interests not even in the long run.
You justify your advice however on the grounds that the person in
question is a definite menace to society and that if left to his own
designs will likely inflict further needless harm and suffering on
others especially those with whom he comes into direct contact. So you
advise on the basis of an over-riding moral concern (for the well-being
of others)--a concern that in this case takes precedence over the

strictly prudential or self-interested concern of the advisee. Even on

149

(or particurly in the case of) life and death issues it is meaningful
to say that we can advise another person to do what will be in his
worst interests provided there is some over-riding consideration in the
light of which such advice can be justified. Of course, if we could
somehow combine compatibly the moral and the prudential concerns by
(for instance) making the latter consideration a consistent moral one--
if, that is, there was a way in which each of us could pursue whole-
heartedly his interests without interfering with or encroaching upon
the interests of others (or better still, promoting the interests of
others by promoting his own)--then and only then might advising another
to do something be logically connected to promoting that other's
interests. But we are not structured in such a way as to make this
possible. Our own interests at times inevitably conflict; and if it
were the mggg1_thing to do to follow whole-heartedly our own interests
the upshot would be a return to a Hobbesean state of nature (where
advising would have no place in any case) with the further odd conse-
quence that in following this moral principle our destruction is
ultimately wrought. Understandibly when there is a conflict between
moral and prudential considerations we normally ascribe precedence to
the former and distinguish it from the latter whether that conflict'
arises in advising contexts or elsewhere.

Given the conclusions I drew on p. 145 and the discussion
which has since followed we are in a position to see why the act of

advising itself is a moral activity, in a minimal sense to be explained,

 

quite irrespective of the particular kinds of advice we may happen to

150

give.4 We see this moral dimension to all instances of advising another
person to do one thing rather than another by holding up our analysis of
advising to a conception of morality and Observing that certain features
(of the former fall within the requirements of the latter. For a
necessary requirement of morality is that a material social condition

be satisfied; and this condition in turn consists of taking into account
(i) the relations of one individual to another (or others), and (ii) the
effects of one person's action on the interests of another (or others)
from the latter's point of view.5 Thus for an activity X, to be a

moral activity it must be seen to satisfy at least (i) and (ii). I

take it that in light of our analysis of advising that these two condi-
tions are in fact satisfied by the speech act we call "advising." For
as I have tried to show, the logic of advising requires that, among
other things, the adviser take into consideration the present position
and point of view of the advisee gpg_that, in giving advice to another,
the adviser take into consideration the likely effects on the advisee's
interests of the latter's acting on the advice. This however does not
necessarily involve promoting those interests as I have already
explained, though in cases where it does not, and in other cases too,

it does involve taking into account the likely effects of the advisee's
actions on other persons in society apart from the advisee himself. To

this extent, advising has a two-fold moral dimension about it. It is

 

4It does not follow from this claim that all advising is moral
advising (i.e., giving moral advice) though it is not impossible that
much of our legal, economic, and political advice is or can also be
moral advice.

5I draw here from W. K. Frankena, "The Concept of Morality,"'
The Definition of Morality, ed. by G. Wallace and A. D. M. Walker
(London: Methuen and Co., Ltd., 1970), p. 156.

 

151

moral on what we might call the immediate level in that it picks out a
relation between a minimum of two people, the adviser and advisee, and
in particular a relation between what the former says ggg_the effects
of what he says on the interests of the latter if the latter acts on
what the former says. Advising can be moral on a further level in
that it may pick out a relation between what one person says (the
adviser), what another (the advisee) does in light of what the former
says and the effects of what the latter does (if he acts on what the
former says) on the interests of other persons. To sum up this account
of the moral dimension found in all cases of advising we could say that
as an activity advising falls under the moral consideration of respect
for other persons, notably for the advisee but not always only the
advisee. We fail to have respect for others when in our deliberations
with another we neglect, ignore, or disregard their interests, feelings,
purposes and so on--that is when we fail to take account of what I have
been calling "their position and point of view." This concept of
respect for the other person as taking that other's point of view into
consideration (though not necessarily promoting it) was initially—
brought to our attention by the grammatical structure of the advising
utterance "If I were you I would do . . . ." As such it is embedded in
the notion of advising without which the speech-act, advising, could
not get off the ground.

Does this act of advising satisfy a formal requirement (which
might also be seen to be part of a conception of morality) in addition
to the material social requirement? 1 am thinking here of the formal

requirements of prescriptivity and universalizability which R. M.

152

Hare, for example, identifies and discusses at length in his second
major work on moral philosophy. Hare says6 that in deciding what we
gggg§_(evaluative use) to do what we look for is an action to which

we can commit ourselves (the prescriptive element) but which we are
also prepared to accept as exemplifying a principle of action to be
prescribed for other persons in similar circumstances (the universaliz-
able element). In other words, for Hare, the evaluative use of

"ought" in some judgment makes that judgment a "universalizable pre-
scription." The sincerely made judgment "I ought to do X in situation
Y" both commits me to doing X and to the principle that any person in

a "precisely similar situation"7

ought also to do thesame thing. Hare
illustrates these claims in his example of the creditor and debtor
case found in his discussion of the criteria of a moral argument.8

The creditor says to himself "My decision that I ought to put A into
prison because he will not repay me involves accepting the principle
that anyone who is in my position or one like it ought to put his
debtor into prison if he does not pay even if I myself happen to be in
the position of debtor." Even though one is not actually in that
position (of debtor) when he formulates his original decision he must
at least conceive of himself being in that position and then ask if

he could accept (commit himself to) the principle that any debtor who

does not pay ought to be imprisoned by his creditors. And if he could

 

6R. M. Hare, Freedom and Reason (New York: Oxford University
Press, 1965), p. 89.

7

 

Ibid., p. 153.

 

8Ibid., pp. 90-92.

 

153

not, that is, if he could not universalize his prescription (decision)
then, according to Hare, he cannot logically abide by it. If our
creditor is prepared to imprison A but if he would not grant at the
same time that his own creditor imprison him given similar circum-
stances, then our original creditor is expressing an evaluatively
unsound decision because logically incompatible with the general
principle which the latter entails. To assert a decision (I ought to
put A into prison) but to dissent from the principle which entails it
(Anyone in my position or one like it ought to put his debtor into
prison) is, according to Hare, to be in a logical bind.

We might now rephrase our question of a few moments ago and
ask if advising utterances are meant (or have) to satisfy the two
fOrmal criteria of prescriptivity and universalizability. I shall
treat the former, and I believe easier, criterion first. One of the
things I took myself to be doing in Chapter II in discussing Hare's
use of evaluative "ought" sentences was criticising the close connec-
tion he believes obtains between the evaluative "ought" and commands.
His claim is that such "oughts" entail commands. Thus if I sincerely
say "I ought to do X" then according to Hare I am issuing a command to
myself to do X: and if I say "You ought to do X" I am issuing a command
to you to do X. Now these commands which the ought sentences entail
provide the prescriptive element of which Hare speaks. As Hare would
say, my uttering "I ought to do X" at least commits me to doing X by
virtue of the entailed command "Let me do X." I argued in Chapter II
that this use of the evaluative "ought" is unsatisfactory as an

advising utterance because the entailed command-part violates certain

154

logical or conceptual requirements for advising. If my argument is
sound, it follows that an advising utterance cannot satisfy Hare's
criterion of prescriptivity--that is, an advising utterance cannot
meet the prescriptive condition as Hare interprets that condition.
However, since his interpretation seems to be too strong in any case
we should not thereby conclude that advising utterances are or cannot
be prescriptive.

When we engage in the act of prescribing then what is it we
may be said to be doing if we are not commanding or committing someone
to some course of action? Put simply, the answer is that we are

telling someone what he ought to do; we are guiding or rationally

 

influencing someone to do one thing rather than another and this is
not quite the same thing as committing someone to some course of action.
In advising someone then are we necessarily prescribing? Well, we are
evidently not prescribing when we are advising someone 335; something
is the case. The apprising use of the concept is not an instance of
prescribing (or at least not normally so). Is the appraising use of
the concept an instance? It would be difficult to see how we could
deny that it is. In advising someone to do one thing rather than
another we just are guiding the person to give serious consideration to
the advised course of action. Such guidance, as I have argued, pre-
supposes the advisee is in a situation of choice in which following the
advised course is but one alternative open to him. It further pre-
supposes that the advisee is free to choose as between alternative
courses and that he is within his right to ask for the reasons which

presumably support the advised course of action. But these

155

presuppositions are conditions which any verbal act must satisfy if
it is to be an act of prescribing.9 Evidently then in saying "I
advise you to do . . ." I am prescribing. The advising utterance is
a prescription.

Let us now treat the universalizability criterion after the
fashion of Hare. It seems that from the point of view of advising we
would be committed to a position like the following. As an adviser
expressing a decision to you about what you should do in some situa-
tion, my advice that you ought to do X in that situation must be such
as could be given to anyone (including myself) in your situation (or
one like it) who asks for advice. In other words in sincerely saying
to you "I advise you to do X in that situation" I logically presuppose
the principle that anyone (including myself) in a situation like yours
be advised to do the same thing you were advised to do. This is the
principle that advisees in similar situations be advised similarly--
that the same advice is valid for all advisees similarly placed. If
I were to advise someone else who is in a position like yours to do
Y, not X, then I take it I would be involved in some sort of incon-
sistency rendering my advice logically unsound; for I would have
asserted a decision about what I think that person should do but which
involves denying the principle that entails the decision. Is this
adapted version of the Harean position acceptable from the point of
view of advising? Up to a limited point (at least) I believe it is.

For one thing it obviously has a mark of fairness about it in treating

 

 

9See Paul Taylor, Normative Discourse (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.:
Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1961), p. 206.

156

advisees in similar situations similarly. For another, Hare's position
makes advising others what they should do in some situation a relatively
straight forward and uncomplicated affair. This is all right so long
as the cases we deal with as advisers are themselves relatively
straightforward and uncomplicated, which doubtless many cases are. In
the fairly "routine“ cases of advising and in those situations where
there are no conflicts or tensions between, say, prudential considera-
tions and moral considerations (or other complications) then it seems
to me that subscribing to the Hare-like principle that similarly placed
advisees be advised similarly is a helpful principle by which one ggg_
adviser can live. Provided, as advisers, we have good memories (or
good imaginations) so that we can recall (envisage) what we advised (or
would advise) others to do whose situations were (would be) similar

to that of our present advisee; and provided there are no complications
attending the situation of our present advisee we are entitled to
advise him just as we advised those others. Perhaps the best applica-
tion of the principle is in those situations where, for one reason or
another, we have to advise another hurriedly without being given the
Opportunity to explore more fully our advisee's position. These
hurried advising situations are bound to arise and short of saying
nothing, or something irresponsible, to our advisees we can very use-
fully invoke the above principle and advise the person in question as
we advised those in the past whose situations were like that of our
present advisee--though in hurried situations we should warn our
advisee that the advice given is based on apparent similarities between

his case and other cases and nothing more. This presupposes as

157

indicated that a requirement for being an adviser is that he have not
only a fairly good memory but a fairly wide-ranging advising experience
or a fairly good imagination such that the probability of a "new"
advisee situation arising is not high--i.e., new at least to him.

But does this notion of new, novel or complex situations in
advising another person what to do close out any further extension of
our application of Hare's universalizability criterion to advising
utterances? If we were to accept Hare's claims respecting universaliza-
bility could we make sense of the following advising utterance: "In
the past I have advised people who were in a situation like yours to
do A rather than B, but in your case, other things considered, I am
going to advise you (i.e., you ought) to do C rather than either A or
8:" This does not seem to be meaningless and any analysis of "ought“
that renders it so must surely be rejected. Hare, of course, would
respond that the present advisee situation (in the utterance) is not

sufficiently similar to the previous cases after all. He would say

 

that there must be something additional or outstanding about the
present case that is not to be found in the previous ones and which
leads the adviser to recommend his advisee's doing C rather than either
A or B--and that since the cases in question are ggt_sufficiently
alike, the adviser is still committed to advising anyone whose situa-
tion is sufficiently similar to the previous cases to do A rather than
8. But what counts as "sufficiently similar" here? We have seen that
Hare sometimes uses the expression "precisely similar situation." On
this interpretation of "sufficient similarity" the general principle

to which advisers are ostensibly to adhere would read as follows:

158

"advisees in precisely similar Situations be advised similarly." How
helpful would this principle be? If we were to treat the expression
”precisely similar situation" literally then clearly there would be no
advisee whose situation would be precisely similar to the situation of
another. Given a person's own heredity, particular upbringing, and so
on it is logically the case that no ggggp person could be said to be

in the same situation. If we treat Hare's use of "precisely similar"
in this literal way then clearly the above principle has a hollow ring
to it. For there would be one and only one agent (advisee) that would
fall under it in any given advising situation. Since no one else could
be in the same situation as one's present advisee it would be impossible
for the adviser to live by the principle. Each advisee-situation would
be strictly unique. Despite his use of expressions like "precisely
similar" it is doubtful that Hare could accept the case for universali-
zability being pushed this far since at this point it would seem to be
self-defeating.

Thus Hare must actually intend a less rigorous interpretation of
"precisely similar situation." It is evident that he by no means always
uses the word "precisely" to modify "similar situation." Frequently he
uses expressions like "similar situation" or "a situation like." This
generates a more defensible position. Whereas no one can (logically)
be in a situation precisely the same as another person, someone can
(logically) be in a situation ljkg_that of another. So our advising
principle (a la Hare) might be salvaged by replacing "precisely similar
situation" with " a situation like.“ At least the principle that

similar advises in similar situations be advised similarly would not

159

have the same hollow ring. However we would be left with a residual
problem namely how do we judge when one person is in a situation like
that of another? How many features of the two situations would have

to correspond to make the situations alike; and how would we know
whether the features are relevant? I do not see any way of answering
these questions apart from an actual context. Only in some context

can we decide these matters. In some contexts it will be the physical
features of people--their height, weight, color of eyes, hair, skin,
etc. that are relevant and that make situations "alike." You are over-
weight in proportion to your height (let us say) and you have a certain
type of heart condition. Your doctor advises you to go on a special
diet. There would be something odd about your doctor gg§_advising me
to go on the same diet if I went to him with the same over-weight
problem (in proportion to my height) and the same type of heart condi-
tion. Here the physical features of two peOple are what make the
situations alike, as well as the features themselves being the relevant
ones. But features (of situations) that are relevant do not necessarily
also make those situations alike. A group has chartered a plane to
Africa for a month's vacation. I am their adviser. South Africa is a
very beautiful part of that continent, but there are a number of blacks
in the group. What parts of Africa should I advise them to visit. Here
the color of skin is a relevant feature, but in the circumstances
(including the political climate of South Africa) the blacks and whites
in the group are ggp_in like positions relative to the advice I give
them about visiting South Africa. I may advise the white members to

visit South Africa but it would (or could be) irresponsible of me to so

160

advise the black members of the group. Here is a case then where the
features which are relevant do not generate situations which are alike
in respect to advising the members of the group where to visit.
Finally, physical features of persons need not figure at all, but
rather their actions, or their beliefs for example. To recur to the
"murder case" I used earlier in this chapter, Hare's claim would be
that in my advising the murderer to surrender himself forthwith to the
authorities I am logically bound to say that if I myself (or anyone
else) were in a similar position of having committed a series of
murders (etc.) I too should be advised to turn myself over to the
police. Here it is the actions of people (and their intentions) which
are both relevant and which make situations alike (at least in certain
respects). Psychologically speaking I may not want to concede that

I should be advised to surrender myself since doing so would place me
in a most unenviable position; and that is not something I want.
Logically speaking, however, I would have to concede the advice is
justified.

Where does this discussion leave us in respect of advising
utterances and the universalizability criterion? Although there are
evident difficulties with the criterion it does not seem that we can
deny that advising utterances do not (or need not) satisfy the
criterion. Indeed when I discuss (later in the chapter) the necessary
conditions of experience and imagination for advisers to meet, it will
be seen that the criterion is presupposed. Furthermore the notion of
Agood" or "sound? advice as advice "backed by relevant considerations"

seems to presuppose the criterion. For "good advice" and "relevant '

161

considerations" in respect of some matter implies (at least some)
agreement on both the advice ggg_the supporting considerations among
those persons (advisers) who are in a position to know (by virtue of
their expertise) that the advice on some matter is good or sound.

Thus the notion of intersubjectivity of reasons in advising seems to
presuppose the criterion of universalizability. Finally--on a point
of clarification--when I say to someone "I advise you to do X" it does
not follow straight away that I approve of X in the sense of my_doing
it. In the utterance in question I am approving of your doing X
(obviously). It would be self-contradictory for me to say “I advise
you to do X" and then add "but, yet, I disapprove of your doing it."
Only if I am in situations like yours must I approve of doing X myself:
otherwise not. I can in fact openly disapprove of my doing X while
advising you to do it without being inconsistent. For there can be

good reasons for your doing X and very bad reasons for my doing it.

4.2 Advisers

 

Advising necessarily is a linguistic activity. In order to

 

advise another person either to do something or that something is the
case, the spoken or written word must be used. This is neatly summed
up in the claim that, other things considered, my saying "I advise

you . . ." (or words to that effect in an appropriate context) is my
advising. It is a necessary truth about all uses of "advising" that
to advise another is, among other things, to use words and to use them
intelligibly; whereas for example it does not seem to be a necessary

truth about all use of "counseling" that to counsel another is, among

162

other things, always to use words. This logical dependence of advising
on the use of language can be brought out in a different way and one
related primarily to the "advising to" use of the concept. Normally
the advice that someone gives you respecting what you ought to do in
some situation is an opinion or pgligf_he holds about which of the
possible courses of action open to you if taken by you would in all
likelihood be to your best interests. Evidently one's advice to another
to do this rather than that is not a mgpg opinion or a mgpg belief, but
one (as we said earlier) that is considered--i.e., one that has the
backing of interpersonal reasons. To be sure the belief or opinion
that is embodied in a piece of advice to another person is subjective
to the extent that it is an adviser's belief or opinion which gg_has
formulated; but it is objective or impersonal to the extent that the
reasons in the light of which the adviser formulates his advice
respecting what another ought to do are not just his own personal
reasons, but are ones which can be expected to withstand scrutiny from
those in relevant positions to the adviser. So our being able to
advise another about what he should do in a certain situation depends
on our having or formulating certain considered beliefs or opinions; and
our having these beliefs in turn depends on our having a language.
"This dependence," writes Stuart Hampshire, "is not a mere contingent
matter of fact . . . . It is intrinsic to the concept of belief. No
sense could be given to the question about the beliefs of beings who
possess no language in which to express them, not merely because we
could not ascertain their beliefs, but rather because we would not know

what would be meant by attributing any specific opinions to them. A.

163

belief is essentially something that the believer is ready to express
in a statement, even if, for various contingent reasons, he is prevented

from expressing it."12

A logically necessary condition of having a
belief is having a language in which to express a belief. If I do not
have a language, then I cannot be said to have beliefs; and my having
a belief presupposes I have a language. To the extent that advising
someone to do something is to have a belief about what that other
should do, advising necessarily depends on one ggg_adviser having a
language.

It thus remains to be said that to be in a position to advise
another one must at least have facility with that language. One must
know how to use words and sentences correctly. In short, to have
facility with the language, at least so far as advising is concerned,
is to be able to use language to communicate one's meaning to another
person; it is to be able to express oneself verbally in a reasonably
clear, consistent and coherent way thereby minimizing (presumably) the
addressee's confusion or puzzlement over what you say to him. To
confuse consistently other people by what you say to them is not to
have a facility with the language. Now, from the point of view of
advising, communication or making oneself understood is hampered (and
may even be blocked) in at least two general ways. The first of these
ways is the adviser's improper use of the logical connectives (e.g.,
"if . . . then," "either . . . or," etc.) and (or) the use of logically

contradictory expressions or expressions which are otherwise "odd" or

 

12Stuart Hampshire, Thought and Action (New York: The Viking
Press, 1960), pp. 141-142.

 

164

"internally inconsistent" in the advice he gives. It is not sufficient
to say that these "mistakes" can be corrected by the adviser's knowing
what the logical connectives are and what is a contradiction. Addi-
tionally, one must know pggg_and pg! to use the connectives and 593_
to formulate statements that are internally consistent; and these
particular items of knowledge depend in part on having a context or
subject matter in which to work. It is possible for a person to know
(formally) what a logical contradiction is but in using language in a
certain context be unaware that he has in fact contradicted himself.
This can be detected by the speaker only if he has, in addition, an
understanding of the features of the context or subject in or about
which he is discoursing, as the following examples Show.

Suppose the context is advising; and suppose an instructor says
to a student, "I advise you to take Education 801A, but there are no
reasons why you should take it." I argued (in the last chapter) that
this kind of utterance is contradictory. For in saying "I advise you
to take Education 801A" the teacher is thereby advising but by adding
Vthere are no reasons why you should take it" he thereby denies that he
advises the student to take that course. In short, I said that there
are no conceivable situations in which it would be correct (meaningful)
to describe one as advising another person to do one thing rather than
another without there being reasons for that person's doing it. Now,
unless a would-be adviser understands this (logical) point about
advising--unless he knows that the concept of advising entails the
notion of having reasons for the advice one gives, then even though he

may know what a contradiction is, he will not know that utterances Of

165

the kind "I advise you to do X but there are no reasons why you should
do it" are self-contradictory and hence puzzling to his advisee. In a
like fashion, there are other expressions which while not necessarily
contradictory have an air of contradiction about them and will be

seen by the advisee to be so unless some special explanation of them
is given. I am thinking here of expressions which Nowell-Smith would
call "logically odd" but not "self-contradictory." To say that an

utterance is logically odd is not to say that it is necessarily sense-

less "but that we should be puzzled to know what it meant and should
"13

have to give it some unusual interpretation. For example, "I
advise you to swim the Channel but you ought not to do it" has its
oddness removed by explaining that the second use of "you" is general
and could be replaced by "one." Thus the utterance in question means
that there are reasons for advising ygp_specifically to swim the
Channel and reasons against advising just anyone to swim the Channel.
So advising utterances of the kind “I advise you to do X but you ought
not tot are not necessarily self-contradictory; but unless our would-
be adviser understands that expressions like "I advise you to do X"
contextually implies14 rather than logically implies utterances like
"you ought to do X" he would not know that "I advise you to do X but
you ought not to do it" requires an "unusual interpretation? to remove
the oddness and hence the puzzlement for the advisee.

A final example involves the use of the connective "either

. or" in certain advising utterances. The restrictions on the use

 

I3Nowell-Smith, Ethics, p. 83.

14Ibid., pp. 80-81.

166

Of this logical connective are wrought by the fact that my saying AI
advise you to do either A or B or C" presupposes that there is nothing
to choose between these alternative courses of action--there are no
reasons which weigh in favor of selecting any one of the alternatives
over the others. So, in effect, I am simply saying to my advisee "I
advise you just to choose!" This does not mean there are no reasons
for saying this or that there are no reasons for choosing A (say);
indeed the reason for saying "just choose" is that there are no
reasons which favor one course over the other. But to the extent
that there are reasons weighing in favor of one alternative and to the
extent that I still say "I advise you to do A or B or C" I have, ggg_
adviser, systematically misled you. If there are reasons for choosing
A over the others, I cannot reflect this fact by the use of "either

. or“ in my advising utterance. In such cases my advising of
necessity is selective. In cases where there is something to choose
across alternatives we must say, in advising another, "I advise you to

do A rather than B or C," not "A g:_B or C.” Normally when we advise

 

a person we advise them to do tgj§_rather than gggg, Giving advice is
a way of supporting one course of action over some other and the
language we use must reflect this fact. Thus, to the extent that a
would-be adviser does not understand these restrictions on the use of
connectives like "either . . . or" in advising contexts, he cannot be
in a position to advise because he cannot succeed in making himself
understood.

A second general impediment to advising (apart from the lack

of facility with language, misunderstanding of logical points and

167

concepts) is the lack of wittingness or awareness as to what one ggg
adviser is doing,<n~lack of intention. Thus certain further require-
ments for advisers to meet are set. Advising is an intentional
activity. In advising another there is necessarily some point or
purpose to what we are trying (intending) to do; e.g., to inform, to
guide. Thus I cannot advise a person by accident. Nor can I advise
without attending to what I am saying. It is true, of course, that
something I might say to you in conversation might subsequently help
you in deciding on one course of action over another, but my merely
§gyjpg_some things to you which you find helpful is not a sufficient

condition for my advising you. Nor, for that matter, is your findigg_

 

some things helpful in what I say to you a sufficient condition for
claiming that I thereby advised you. As I have elsewhere noted, a
whole host of conditions have to be satisfied, one of which is inten-
tionally saying certain things to you which, in my best judgment, will
likely be of aid to you in your deciding what to do in some situation.
If a person does something without knowing that he is doing it, it is

a necessary truth that he is not doing it intentionally. If, in the
above example, I did not (or could not) know that I was helping you py_
what I said to you, then I could not be described as having helped you
intentionally by saying what I did. And if I did or could not have
acted intentionally to help you py_saying such and such to you, I could
not be said to have advised you. If, to continue the example, you were
to say to me "What you said a moment ago was very helpful. Thanks for
the advice!" my protestation "But I wasn't advising you!" is perfectly

correct. I wasn't advising you because, and among other things, it'

168

wasn't my intention to use my words in such a way as to give you advice
even though it turns out you were assisted in your decision by what I
said to you. Fortunately, this point we are discussing eliminates a
good deal of what might otherwise be called advice from our ordinary
conversations with people. It also legislates against the possibility
of a person advising while he is (say) dreaming (even day-dreaming) or
in certain stages of being drugged. §x_hypothesi being in these sorts
of conditions is to lack wittingness with respect to what one is saying,
with respect to the external situation confronting one and to the
difference what one says makes, all of which are essential to being in
a position to advise another person. So evidently some of the things
we cannot do if we are to be correctly described as advising another
person are: talking absent-mindedly, without attending to or concen-
trating on what we say to another; talking without intending to help
another come to some decision about the latter's course of action;
talking while in states of semi-consciousness or while delirious or in
states of unconsciousness (e.g., while dreaming in sleep).

The discussion to this point shows that the two general condi-
tions which either block or impede communication between two people
consist of (i) language and conceptual confusions, and (ii) a lack in
either attention orintention or both. To the extent that a person is
unclear or confused about the conceptual or logical points and
structure of advising and the consequent permitted (prohibited) verbal
moves within that structure, or to the extent that one has serious
difficulty in concentrating on (holding one's attention to) what one

says to another, is subject to states of delirium, has a tendency to

 

169

exist at levels of semi-consciousness (etc.) one cannot be in a posi-
tion to advise another person. We might then ask what is minimally
presupposed by the positive case--the case of the person who is free
from conceptual confusions, who has powers of attention, etc. and who,
to this extent, is a suitable candidate for the role of adviser. We
might circumscribe the question further in the following way. Since
there is necessarily an extensive use (both explicit and implicit) of
certain pronouns in advising, particularly "I" and "you" (e.g., "I
advise you to . . . ," "If I were you, I would . . . ," "I think you
should do . . . ," "Do such and such," etc.) the question may be re-
phrased by calling for the presuppositions of the use of words like
"I“ and "you." It seems clear that if one were unable to use words
like "I" and "you" properly, that is to say, if one did not know to
what the words "I" and “you" referred, one would not be able to per-
form the speech act we call advising. A correct use of "I" and "you"
at least presupposes the speaker's ability to make certain fundamental
and essential distinctions between himself and other objects in the
external world. If I could not make these distinctions (or not make
them very clearly)--if I could not perceive (or perceive very clearly)
an external world separate from me but consisting of objects including
other persons alike, though distinct from me, I could not possibly know
what "I" and "you" mean (refer to). Hence, my saying (or trying to
say) "I advise you to do . . ." would be vacuous. The word "I" and its
cognates has meaning to the extent that "you“ and its cognates has
meaning. In a sense these are (or resemble) correlative terms. My

use of "you" presupposes my being able to point to another person as an

170

entity separate and distinct from myself and occupying space "over
there" as distinct from the space I occupy "over here." This recOgni-
tion of a reality existing apart from me is the product of my
encountering the world--of my brushing up against external objects and
of their impinging on me. It is through this interaction and the sub-
sequent awareness of other objects (including other persons) that I
progressively sharpen my own boundaries, define myself or fill myself
in as it were. My emotions, for example, are in part the result of my
coming up against certain objects in the world. So in recognizing
myself to be distinct from other things py recognizing the external
existence of those things my use of "I" also becomes meaningful because
I am aware of the object to which the word refers. When I use "I" in
referring to myself, I thereby implicitly or explicitly contrast myself
with those things over there; and when I say "I_advise ygg_to . . . ,"
I implicitly or explicitly contrast myself and situation with you and
your situation. To the extent that one cannot make this contrast and
this distinction, he cannot be said to know what "I advise you to . . ."
means and hence cannot be in a position to advise another person.

Thus a minimal condition for one to satisfy as adviser is that
of self-awareness and others-awareness, both of which are presupposed
by one's correct use of the pronouns "I" and "you"--that is to say, a
condition of being an adviser is having the ability both to perceive
oneself as a center of consciousness having certain needs, desires,
interests, etc., and to perceive others as distinct centers of
consciousness having certain needs, desires, etc. Given that advising

is a moral activity in the sense indicated in the previous section, it

171

is essential that the adviser be able to at least recognize the
existence of other points of view and to take these into account in
reaching some piece of advice. Any psychological or cognitive disorder ‘3
or defect which clouds or interferes with these awarenesses and per-
ceptions would be sufficient, it seems, to prevent one from being in a
position to advise another person. Apparently egocentrism would count
as such a defect. Jean Piaget, who has studied extensively the
phenomenon of childhood egocentrism, characterizes it as a confusion

of the ego and the external world and as the inability to differentiate
15

 

between the ego and the environment; and other psychologists as the
child's "incapacity to see that points of view other than his own
exist and therefore as his lack of awareness that he has a point of

view of his own.”6

According to Piaget, childhood egocentrism pre-
dominates throughout the early years from roughly ages four to seven

or eight, though it is more pronounced at the lower end of the range
than at the upper; and it may recur in adults, particularly if the

adult has been raised by his parents along strict authoritarian lines.]7
Thus, as Piaget sees it, childhood egocentrism is directly tied to the
phenomenon of "adult (or external) constraint" which is the imposition
by parents and other adults of rules, regulations, commands, expecta-

tions, etc., on the child who accepts these impositions unwittingly'8--

 

15Jean Piaget, The Moral Judgment of the Child (New York: The
Free Press, 1965), especially pp. 90-95.

16Derek Wri ht, The Psychology of Moral Behavior (London:
Penguin Books, 1971?, p. 158.

17

 

 

Piaget, The Moral Judgment of the Child, p. 85.

 

18Ibid., p. 92.

172

unwittingly because he is not able to distinguish clearly between the
external and the internal, the objective and subjective (as Piaget
puts it). Thence, the words and thoughts of the adult mix into and
intervene with the child's own thinking exercising a control or check
On the child's socialization. As long as the child is under the power
of the adult, as long as he conceives of adult rules and commands as
sacred, immutable and objects of obedience--that is, as long as there
is adult constraint on the child, there is egocentrism. But once the
child begins to develop peer-group associations where he can interact
with his fellows, he begins to dissociate his thought from that of
adults. Egocentrism wanes; and the child gains a more realistic con-
ception of others and himself. "Henceforth," says Piaget, "he (the
child) will not only discover the boundaries that separate his self
from the other person, but will learn to understand the other person
and be understood by him. So that cooperation is really a factor in
the creation of the personality . . . i.e., (of) the self that takes
up its stand on the norms of reciprocity and objective discussion, and
knows how to submit to these in order to make itself respected."19
Declining egocentrism in children is balanced by an increasing
cooperation between and mutual respect for each other as persons.
According to Piaget, this normal development fppg_unilateral respect
for the adult (a product of egocentrism and adult constraint) and
heteronomy (submission to adult authority) pg_cooperation and mutual

respect (wherein rules are no longer seen to be sacred and immutable,

 

19Ibid., pp. 95-95.

173

but changeable through mutual consent) and thence to personal
autonomy20 is underway usually by age ten.

If we were to place a "great divide" or "watershed mark" in
Piaget's cognitive developmental scheme it would have to be at the
pre-adolescent periods of ages ten to twelve. Roughly speaking,
prior to this period the child tends to look at the world hetero-
nomously and afterwards autonomously. This does not mean, of course,
that the seven or eight year old is necessarily egocentric. It is
possible he could be semi-autonomous, but it would be rare or unusual.
Nor does it mean that the thirteen year old having passed the "great
divide" is automatically fully autonomous (in the sense of being free
of external adult pressure to self-direct his own life) though again
this is possible. The move towards personal autonomy normally is a
gradual development with no guarantee that in any given individual the
progressions will culminate in the autonomous personality. What we
can say apparently is that for anyone who is fully autonomous (in
Piaget's sense) he would have to have passed through pre-adolescence
and more than likely be a young adult. But development towards the
autonomous personality is much more than a matter of age. There are
lots of adolescents ggg_adults who are still heteronomous, some who
are partly heteronomous and partly autonomous, and some who are ego-
centric. The thrust of Piaget's work (and others in his develOpmental
tradition) is to show that the progression towards the autonomous

personality is contingent upon one having passed sequentially through

 

20Autonomy "appears only with reciprocity, when mutual reSpect

is strong enough to make the individual feel from within the desire to
treat others as he himself would wish to be treated." Ibid., p. 196.

174

earlier stages of development, such as the stage of unilateral respect
for adults and the stage of cooperation with and mutual respect for
peers. These apparently are necessary (but not sufficient) conditions
or phases. To the extent that one has not been subject to adult
constraint and to social interaction with one's peers or to the

extent that one has not moved beyond such stages, one cannot be or
become an autonomous person. Even if these stages have been passed
through, other things can still “go wrong." As Lawrence Kohlber92]
has shown, the shift in early adolescence from, what Piaget calls
"concrete operations" to "formal operations" can result in some cases
in "adolescent solipsism"--the condition in which the individual,
because he now sees his own internal world to be the real and the
external world to be the unreal, takes his own self to be the only
real thing there is. While such a condition is somewhat extreme, it
evidently is sufficient to frustrate temporarily the development of
autonomy in the person.

NowL if Piaget (and others) are, in the mainL correct in what
they are saying, then it seems to follow for our study that since
egocentrism (as here understood) is a cognitive defect which hinders
the individual's awareness and perception both of his self and other
selves and which blurs the distinction between the external and the
internal, then children at least up to about pre-adolescence are not

in a position to advise other people respecting what those others should

 

2ALawrence Kohlberg and Carol Gilligan, "The Adolescent as a
Philosopher: The Discovery of the Self in a Postconventional World,"
Daedalus (Fall, 1971), p. 1064.

175

do in certain situations. They cannot advise because they lack suf-
ficient awareness of both their own point of view and that of others--
and it is principally this latter which counts in advising as I have
shown. To be able to take into consideration the interests, etc., of
others at least presupposes one's recognizing that other points of view

exist sui generis and that, in turn, entails that one who advises be

 

free from adult constraint and authority which young children, accord-
ing to Piaget, eminently are not. It follows further from Piaget's
account that ggyggg, child, adolescent or adult who is still under

the control and constraint of another adult or of a group, who is
dominated by the other person or a group, and who therefore is still
essentially a heteronomous individual, is not in a position to advise

others. He is not because he is not able to judge independently what

 

in his view is the best thing for an advisee to do.

With Piaget's account in mind, it will be worthwhile for us to
explore some of the typical personality or character traits which would
make it impossible (at least temporarily) for one to be in a position
to give advice. I have already noted that advising is an intentional
activity and that wittingness on the part of the adviser is required.
As an adviser one must attend to what he is saying to another. This
condition can be extended to include one's ability to hold one's atten-
tion to (to heed) what another person (advisee) is saying to him.

There are at least two ways in which a person cannot attend to what
another is saying. The first is that he is overworked and preoccupied
with other problems to the extent that he is not fully aware of

another person's presence. The second is that he is preoccupied with

176

himself and is therefore unable to attend to another person's presence.
The former should not be put in a position where he has to advise
others though it does not follow that if his work-load were reduced
that he could not advise. The second person, to the extent that he

is only minimally aware of the other person's presence, who talks only
or primarily of himself and who does not hear the other person because
he cannot listen, is and cannot be in a position to advise. He is a
"centered" person and thence a species of the class egocentric. The
egoist, on the other hand, while centered in a sense, manifests his
centeredness in a different way. There are two kinds of egoists--the
individual or personal egoist and the impersonal egoist. The former
is the person whose sole concern is just the promotion of his own
interests exclusively. To the extent that other persons can be used
by him as means to furthering his own ends, he must certainly take
cognizance of their presence (or existence). We could even say that
the personal egoist takes into account the interests of others--but

he does so only in so far as that will be to his own advantage and only
his. Thus, in treating other persons merely as means in promoting

his own personal ends, he necessarily lacks the respect for others
which we saw to be the moral requirement of all cases of advising.
Further, the only "advice" the personal egoist could give to another
would be such that if acted on by that other would serve not his
interests but that of the egoist. Your following the advice of a
personal egoist would under most circumstances not be to your advan-
tage; thence, advising as we normally understand it would become

counter-productive.

177

The impersonal egoist, on the other hand, appears to be a more
likely candidate for the role of adviser. For he believes that gyggy-
ggg (including himself) is to pursue his own interests exclusively.

If someone were to ask him for advice, he could say apparently with
all consistency "You ought to pursue your own interests exclusively";
and, given some information about his advisee, the impersonal egoist
could then be rather more specific about the best means the advisee
could take in order to advance those interests. But then we recall
that the impersonal egoist's principle applies equally to himself as
to others. Thus, he too takes it as his duty to pursue his own ’
interests exclusively. Now, if it is in his own interests ggly_to
have a reputation as being a good adviser, then his own interests are
being served exclusively py advising others as to the best means to
take in order to advance tpgj§_interests. But if it is in the
impersonal egoist's interests to be more than or something other than
a good adviser, it is necessarily the case that, in pursuing his own
interests exclusively, his advice to another be such that that other's
acting on it be advantageous to him (the egoist) not the advisee. So
the impersonal egoist ggg_adviser has the following logical problem on
his hands. Because he is an impersonal egoist, his advice to another
must be such that the latter's acting on it, on the one hand, is
advantageous to the advisee; but, on the other hand, since it is to
the adviser's advantage to have his advisee act in such a way that

his (the adviser's) interests are served exclusively (which cannot be
to the advisee's interests exclusively), the impersonal egoist's advice

also must be such that it is to his own advantage to have his advisee

178

act on it. In sum, the impersonal egoist ggg adviser faces logically
incompatible criteria which cannot both be satisfied. One's advice

to another cannot both be in that other's interests exclusively and at
the same time not in that other's interest; and yet this is what the
impersonal egoist would have to pull off. Evidently the impersonal
egoist cannot be an adviser either.

Piaget claims, as we have seen, that children raised in the
climate of adult constraint begin to "decenter" themselves and become
separate persons only through social interaction with their peers.
Such interaction enables the child to develop an area of privacy in
his life which he does not share with his parents and it also enables
the child to see the relativity of his parents' views and values. Not
all children however start off in this "normal" way by being subject to
adult constraint. Some indeed are raised essentially in and by their
own peer group (as in wartime, for instance) the result of which is an
early and persisting attachment of the child to his peers rather than
to adults. The growth and expression of individuality is apparently
lthwarted in deference to group solidarity and in the long run the person
so raised may not be egocentric but what psychologists call "group-
centric"--one who has been "primarily socialized through the peer
group so that it is from this group he derives his sense of identity,

22 Expulsion from the group is the worst

security and belonging."
possible fate that could befall the group-centric; thus, loyalty and
devotion to group norms, standards, objectives, views, etc., are the

means by which his survival is ensured. Group-centrism is extreme

 

22Wright, The Psychology of Moral Behavior, p. 212.

179

conformism. Now since advising a person presupposes that genuine
alternative courses of action are available to the advisee, it is
essential that the person who is the adviser be able to confront
openly and freely these and other alternative possibilities and in

due consideration of the various views, positions and facts prescribe
what, on balance, would be in the best interests of the advisee. That
is to say, one who is to be an adviser must be able to choose; and to
be a chooser, is to be free from various impediments and constraints
such as group centrism that thwart the making of genuine selections.
If one gpg_group-centric attempted to advise another person, his
advice would be an injunction to act in accordance with his (the
centric's) group standards, morality or objectives quite irrespective
of the advisee's own particular situation, interests, and so on. For
the group-centric's views and beliefs are just the views or beliefs of
his group. He is committed to promoting these lest he suffer the fate
of expulsion, thence to that extent he is and cannot be a chooser of
genuine alternatives. As an adviser, he would have to translate the
expression "what is in your best interests" to "what is in accordance
with my group's views." Just as your following the egoist's advice
would result in your promoting pig interests, not yours, your following

the group centric's advice would result in your promoting his group's

 

interests, not yours. In both cases, the position and point of view of
the advisee are neglected and to this extent we can say that neither an
egoist nor a group centric can be in a position to advise.

There are then at least two general types of disorders or defects

which if obtain in the person make it impossible for one to be in a '

180

position to advise others: (a) egocentrism and (b) group-centrism. To
the extent that we are too closely tied to ourselves, too centered as
it were, or too closely tied to another person in some position of
authority; or to the extent that we are tied too closely to our group,
too willing to let it control and dominate our thinking, too conforming
as it were, we cannot be advisers because basically we are insufficiently
aware and free. This account admittedly is negative for it states the
conditions (e.g., personality-types) we must avoid if we are to be in a
position to advise. Clearly my account here is incomplete. One could
doubtless Show that the compulsive, the obsessive and the paranoic are
not in a position to advise. Equally, the closed-minded, insecure
person--the one who feels threatened or uneasy by views and beliefs of
others that fail to square with his own beliefs, who is not open to
alternative conceptions of the world and who will either avoid
encountering these conceptions or suppress them when he does encounter
them and who therefore is unable to react sympathetically or under-
standingly to another's point of view alien to his own or to react
innovatively or creatively in helping that other decide what is best
for him--obviously cannot be in a position to advise. And the authori-
tarian character, who also resembles the group-centric in at least the
respect that both are controlled by the expectations of others albeit
in different ways, cannot advise. This last character is perhaps of
somewhat special interest since the role of the teacher as moral
adviser will raise questions as to the compatibility between being a
teacher ggg_being an adviser--between being a person ig_authority and

being an adviser. There is no necessary connection between

181

"authoritarian character" and "being in a position of authority"
though to be sure in many cases these, in practice, coincide. None-
theless, one can be in authority without being authoritarian. But

for those teachers who are authoritarian, who are preoccupied with
status and power, with controlling others by orders, commands,
directives, etc., and who view others as inferiors as some (hopefully
few) teachers are wont to do, then these people simply are not in a
position to advise. They lack the necessary respect for the student
and are unable to take account of the student's interests, etc.,
sincerely; and very often they are themselves not sufficiently free to
choose between alternative courses of action and to prescribe one such
alternative for their student. Even if a teacher is seen to be
authoritarian though he, in fact, is pg}, it is extremely unlikely that
he could advise with any success; for if students have this conception
of a teacher, what he says by way of advice to them will invariably be
taken as an order or command to be obeyed rather than as something for
them to reflect on and to decide for themselves.

It is time now to state a more positive account. The tentative
conclusion we can draw at this point is that to be in a position to
advise another, one must be hewing some kind of middle course between
egocentrism, on the one hand, and group-centrism on the other. This
middle way can be characterized as follows. To be in a position to

advise, one must be relatively (i) open-minded, (ii) free to make

 

choices between genuine alternative views and courses of action, (iii)
independent of group pressures and of pressures and expectations of

other individuals; in short, one must be relatively free, independent

182

and rational. This, of course, is saying a good deal, but, I believe,
not too much. These three positive notions (freedom, independence,
rationality) are by no means unconnected. To be independent of some
group or of some other person is at least to be free from the social
and other constraints of the group or of the other person, hence free
to do things on one's own. But independence is more than being free--
this latter being a necessary but not sufficient condition of inde-
pendence. Independence is being able to develop a stance or position
on rational grounds and to adjust one's stance or position to changing
conditions. It is to have the necessary fortitude to resist absorption
by the group or dominance by another person and to have the concomitant
skills and abilities to make decisions for oneself. Thus stated,
independence is closely akin to, indeed is a necessary condition of,
rationality which consists of certain activities of mind (e.g.,
reflecting, deliberating, planning, deciding, choosing) in the guiding
of one's actions and activities and which presuppose one's being free
from the psychological, cognitive and social constraints and disorders
we have been discussing. These activities of mind are additionally
contingent on one's having “content" on which to reflect, deliberate,
etc., ggg_on one's having a conception of the world generally as an
ordered place in which prediction of events and consequences can be
made with reasonably good chances of success. The "content" in respect
of rationality as guiding one's conduct consists of items like actions,
consequences, motives, intentions, desires, rules, reasons and so on.
The rational person then is (at least) one who can distinguish

(roughly) between an act and its effects, who can give reasons for dOing

183

one thing rather than another and hence has some notion of what a
reason consists of. Thus, the rational person normally can say to
himself or to another, "Doing pgj§_will likely result in Egg; because
of such and such," and be correct in his prediction and sound in his
justification. His predictive power is good partly because of his
objective sense of reality (i.e., his conception of the world as a
reasonably ordered place), partly because he can distinguish actions
and consequences and can judge which actions are probably going to
bring desired results, and partly because of his own reflections on his
own experiences and that of others. His justification is normally
sound partly because he knows what counts as relevant considerations
(reasons), partly because he is attuned and sensitive to the desires,
intentions, interests, background, etc., of another person or of him-
self as pertinent to judging what that other or himself ought to do.
The rational person will not merely judge an act (his or another's) in
terms of whether it satisfies or deviates from some established
principle. Rather, principles are adopted and modified by this person
in the light of changed or changing conditions and situations in which
a variety of factors (already mentioned) are taken into account.

The account of freedom, independence and rationality, admittedly
embryonic, is sufficient to indicate a primary positive condition;

23

namely, that of personal autonomy. To the extent that heteronomy is

the "logically opposite" of autonomy, we may conclude that the

 

231 am indebted here to R. F. Dearden, "Autonomy and Education,"
Education and the Development of Reason, ed. by R. F. Dearden, P. H.
Hirst and R. S. Peters (Lothn: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1972),
pp. 448-465.

 

184

heteronomous person as such cannot function in the role of adviser to
other persons. This conclusion adds weight to our earlier conclusion
(based on Piaget's work) that normally the pre-adolescent cannot be in
a position to advise. In this connection our conclusion is also com-
patible with Piaget's description of what he calls "objective

responsibility"24

--the child's taking rules literally and judging the
actions of others in terms of their exact conformity with those
established rules and not in accordance with those others' intentions
or motives. This is a further outgrowth of adult constraint and uni-
lateral respect and thence a pre-adolescent phenomenon. "We did not
come across a single definite case of it (objective responsibility)

after age 10,"25

writes Piaget, while subjective responsibility--the
person's judging another's actions in terms of motives and intentions
(and which presupposes the child's being at least at the stage of
cooperation and mutual respect) is very much in evidence from the pre-
adolescent stage onwards though, to be sure, its beginnings doubtless
predate age ten. However, inasmuch as subjective responsibility is a
“condition" of the development of autonomy in the individual, we may
say that one, regardless of age, who is "subjectively responsible," in
Piaget's sense, has mastered certainly some of the essential conditions
for being in a position to advise. For one would, at this point, have
a much clearer grasp of the distinction between another person's actions

ggg the consequences thereof, as well as of some of the considerations

(e.g., desires, intentions) relevant to judging the actions of other

 

24

25mm, p. 124.

Piaget, The Moral Judgment of the Child, pp. 111-112.

 

185

persons. One‘s thinking, that is, would have been freed from having to
assess actions solely in terms of their conformity or deviation from
fixed rules laid down by those in positions of authority. The sub-
jectively responsible person would, in short, be relatively free to
reach decisions about human action on more justifiable grounds.

But personal autonomy is a necessary, not sufficient, condition

for being in a position to advise. Additional conditions are experience

 

and imagination both of which are related but neither of which are part

 

and parcel with autnoomy. That experience is not tied to autonomy may
be seen in the following ways. First, experience is not a sufficient
condition of autonomy--there being heteronomous persons with lots of
experience. Second, experience is something we can say we "have" or
“had," whereas autonomy is what we call a developed disposition to deal
with the world in certain rational ways. Third, experience is not a
conceptually necessary condition of the notion of autonomy though it is

necessary for the development of autonomy in the individual. Piaget, as

 

we have seen, and developmental psychologists generally, stress the
necessity of social interaction with peers (i.e., experience) in normal
cognitive and moral development of the person. Without experience of
this social kind, we could (apparently) not only not develop self-
awareness but others-awareness as well. Experience of a social nature
is a necessary condition for the development of the self into the fully
autonomous individual; and, as such, a necessary condition for one
ggg_adviser to have satisfied.

A second argument for experience, and a more pragmatic one, is

that with experience, particularly of a diverse nature, the adviser is

186

likely to be in a better position both to appreciate what his advisee
feels and to foresee the consequences of his actions. Experience
enables the adviser to enter more sympathetically his advisee's situa-
tion. While being able to see oneself over there in the advisee's pre-
dicament or knowing how it "feels" is not decisive in every case
regarding the piece of advice selected for one's advisee, it may none-
theless help temper one's advice to another, or it may lead to express-
ing the advice in a more sensitive and tactful way than might otherwise

be possible. Of course, we are here dealing with experience as well as

 

imagination. The closer in kind an adviser's set of experiences is to
that of his advisee, the less need the former will have of imagination
for conceiving what it ggglg be like to be in that Situation; for he
would know what it is like by virtue of his own experience. Suppose,
for instance, a teen-ager is trying to decide whether or not to sever
his church affiliation and that he comes to you for advice. Suppose
further that he has been raised by a religious family in a religious
community and that his church adherence is taken by his friends and
family as a matter of course, so that his severing this affiliation
would not be without certain "emotional hardships" on his family, close
friends and quite possibly himself. Now if when you were a teen-ager
you faced and resolved the same question (given a similar up-bringing),
then by virtue of this experience you are in a very good position to
appreciate what your advisee is "going through" or feeling at the
moment--though it does not follow (as I have said before) that you would
advise him necessarily to do as you yourself did in that situation. It

could be that in retrospect and in light of subsequent experience you

187

regret your decision. But the point is that you will at least under-
stand the particular anguish of your advisee and be able to take that
into account in your advice to him. Even if you faced this situation
not in your teens, but (say) later in life or if you faced other some-
what similar trying decisions as a teenager--e.g., your deciding not to
go into the family business after high school graduation when such a
move had been to that point taken for granted (and anxiously awaited)
by your family and their friends--then by virtue of these related
experiences you are still in a better position to understand your
advisee's present problem respecting his church affiliation than would
someone else with an entirely different set of experiences. What you
lack in exactly comparable experiences you make up with experiences of
a similar kind that enable you to at least imagine your being in your
advisee's place. This imaginative thinking is possible because you
once faced dilemmas of the kind in question and struggled with "trying"
decisions of the kind your advisee is now facing. If, on the other
hand, you had no experience at all in struggling with difficult
decisions of any kind it seems unlikely that you could even picture
what it would be like to be in just such a situation. Imagination can
take over where experience has not been only if there is some, even
remote, likeness between one's own experiences and the predicament
another happens to be in. Without experience there would be no
imagination at all. Of course, if you have done a good deal of
reading--especially of novels in which the characters are sometimes
caught up in trying situations that require decisions--you could develop

to a considerable degree an imaginative awareness, though clearly this

188

awareness would be the product of your imaginatively "interacting"
with the novel's characters; that is, the product of social experience
of an indirect kind. A recluse, hermit, or isolate who has indirect
social experience of this kind could conceivably be in a position to
advise, otherwise not. This indirect social experience is better (in
the present context) than no social experience at all.

It may be thought that this account rules out the possibility
of young people giving advice on the basis that the socially experi-
enced person is the "mature" person who has “years of experience”
behind him. But it is not the length of one's experience that counts
in advising, but the breadth and variety Of the experience. For narrow
experiences are certainly compatible with being older. To be sure,
breadth and variety of experiences are tied to time but still it is a
merely contingent fact about the world that the experienced person is
often the older person; it is not a logical truth. "Maturity and
experience” is not conceptually tied to "older person." There are
many young people who are both experienced and mature and who have
struggled with difficult personal decisions. To this extent they are
capable of being advisers.

A final condition to be met by one who advises is that of having
the relevant knowledge, understanding or insight into the domain about
which one is giving advice. To give medical advice one must have a
knowledge of anatomy, physiology, pharmacology, and so on: economic
advice, a knowledge of economics; legal advice, a knowledge of the
laws; spiritual advice, a knowledge of religion. Unless the adviser

has some developed expertise in these domains, in addition to all the

189

other conditions--unless he knows or understands the subject matter
about which he is talking and which constitutes his advice, then it
seems impossible that he could be said to be giving medical or legal
or economic, etc., advice. To a large extent, I believe, these claims
also hold for the giving of moral advice and in the next chapter I
shall try to show that a certain knowledge and understanding of
morality is required of the moral adviser.

To sum up, the general sorts of conditions which would have to
be met by one who is to advise other people are as follows. One must
(a) have facility with the language and have communication skills;

(b) have some understanding of the logic of advising; (c) have an
awareness of self and other persons and respect for others as persons;
(d) be personally autonomous; that is, be relatively free from internal
and external constraints, independent and rational; (e) have experience
and imagination; and (f) have an understanding of the subject matter
from which one's advice is drawn. These are necessary, not sufficient
conditions. They are, I take it, what constitutes the answer to one of
our questions posed at the outset of the chapter--namely, "Who can

advise?"

4.3 Advisees

 

Happily a number of the conditions for advisers are also condi-
tions for advisees. Examples of common ground here are as follows.
Eiggt, advisees, like advisers, require a certain minimal facility with
the language. The advisee must be able to communicate to another as

well as to understand what that other person says in turn. Advising is

190

a dialogue. One who cannot put words together intelligibly at least to
the extent of knowing how to ask another for advice and to explain to
that other what his own puzzlement, or objective etc., is about cannot
be in a position to receive advice. §ggggg, the advisee must see
himself and his adviser as separate and distinct persons, otherwise,
like young children, the advisee will be unable to untangle his own
thinking from that of his adviser. The distinction between subjective
and objective in Piaget's sense is essential for being an advisee and
thus to the extent that one has not evolved from the phenomenon of
childhood egocentrism one cannot receive advice. Ipigp, wittingness and
the ability to hold one's attention to what another is saying to one,
that is, paying heed to what one is being told while he is being told
it also counts as a condition for being advised as well as for advising
another. In as much as one is unable to focus on what another says to
him, has difficulty in heeding the message and who is readily and fre-
quently distracted by other things, one is not normally in a position to
receive advice. fgpgpg, to receive advice presupposes one's being free
to choose. I shall have more to say about this matter presently.
Although there are these common conditions for both advisers and
advisees the following proposition is nonetheless true: whereas all
advisers can also receive advice not all advisees can also give advice.
One's being an adviser is sufficient for his being an advisee; but
one's being an advisee is not sufficient for his being an adviser.
There are conditions which advisers have to satisfy which advisees need
not or, to put it the other way around, there are conditions which one

as advisee can satisfy but which one as adviser cannot. For example,

191

although the child egocentric cannot be in a position to receive advice
it does not follow that the egoist cannot receive advice. We have

seen that the egoist cannot be in a position to advise another person
but there evidently is nothing which prohibits his being an advisee
(other conditions of course being satisfied). The reason for this is
not difficult to identify. Normally when one asks for advice one is
asking how he can best promote his own interests, ends, or objectives
and normally our advice to others is tapered, all things considered, to
help him do just that. So there is nothing incompatible between or odd
about being an egoist and being an advisee--though it does seem
unlikely that the egoist could be in a position to receive ggggl_advice
(see Chapter V). A second and related case where advisee and adviser
conditions do not match is this: whereas being an adviser necessitates
taking the other person's (advisee) point of view into consideration

or of having at least minimal respect for the other person (as earlier
defined) being an advisee does not require that such a condition be
satisfied. Again the likely exception here is the receiving of moral
advice but apart from this there is no reason at all for imposing the
"minimal respect for others" condition on advisees. In receiving
economic, legal, medical, spiritual advice for instance, or even
"backyard" advice. I am, ggg_advisee, not normally committed to taking
into account the interests (etc.) of other persons since it is in the
nature of receiving non-moral advice that I do so to enhance my own
ends or my own well-being without regard for the position of other
people. I ask for medical advice to promote or improve my health;

for economic advice, to improve the return on my investments; vocatiOnal

192

advice to obtain a better job; spiritual advice to put myself in a
better relationship with God; and so on. These, on the whole, are
private and personal matters which do not have a social commitment;
and in getting advice on these various matters I am simply highlight-
ing the typical prudential thrust of being an advisee. This does not
rule out my having respect for others, it simply does not exercise it
or require that it be exercised. To be sure, in asking for advice I
exercise my respect for my adviser in that I believe him to be a wise
and judicious person. I respect his ability to give sound advice. But
this kind of respect is not the respect we speak of when we talk about
taking the other person's interests, point of view, etc., into accoUnt
in advising him to do one thing rather than another.

Other conditions which advisers but not advisees are to meet
are: (a) a grasp of the main logical points of advising, (b) sub-
stantial and wide-ranging personal experience particularly of situations
involving difficult personal decisions, (c) imagination, and (d) knowl-
edge, understanding, expertise or insight into the domain or subject
area from (or in) which the advice is drawn. The fact that one does
not understand the logic of advising is not sufficient to deny him the
role of advisee though he should at least be aware, in a rudimentary
way, of what reasons are since advice necessarily has the backing of
reasons. That is, he should be able to see the point of the reasons
which are given for the particular piece of advice he receives and to
detect whether the reasons are for him sufficiently compelling to
accept the advice. Respecting (b) and (c) while it is apparently a

requirement of normal development that one have social experience

193

especially with one's peers in childhood, the advisee need not and more
than likely will not have had experience in which difficult, trying
decisions in a certain domain have had to be made; further it is not
necessary that in the receiving of at least non-moral advice one have

a developed imagination since it is not normally the case that in
deciding whether or not to accept a piece of non-moral advice one must
imaginatively put oneself in another person's position or imagine
reversing roles with that other. Finally, respecting (d) it is usually
the advisee's deficiency in knowledge, understanding, expertise or
insight in some matter or domain in light of which he initially seeks
advice. To a large extent, giving advice is conveying information to
the advisee which the latter is presumed to be without though it is
wrong to conclude that the information is always or necessarily of a
strictly factual nature. The information could consist of certain
principles, or of probabilities (predictions, suppositions, etc.); it
could be about certain aims, goals, objectives for the advisee to
consider pursuing, and so on. In sum it is deficiencies respecting (a)
to (d) which place one in a good position to receive advice that also
prevents one from being in a position to give advice.

In Chapter II I drew attention to the logical distinction
between (i) the adviser's ggyipg_to someone to do such and such and
(ii) the advisee's deciding whether or not to do what the adviser sug-
gests doing. I did so to point out the responsibility of the advisee
in the adviser-advisee relationship and thence to show that there is no
causal connection between the adviser's saying something and the

advisee's deciding to act accordingly, though there may be a causal'

194

connection between the ggy_in which an adviser says something and his
advisee's doing it. The relevance of the logical distinction for the
present discussion is just this; the advisee is free to accept, reject
or modify the advice he receives, to act or not act on it as the case
may be. The decision is his and no one elses, especially not the
adviser's. In the final analysis the advisee "goes it alone" though
his doing so is partly dependent on his adviser giving him guidance
(relevant input) on the matter and partly on his ability to reflect and
ultimately to choose one course of action over another. Being in a
position to choose is thus essential to being in a position of advisee.
Conditions which hamper or frustrate choice are sufficient to block
one's being in that position. To the extent that one is a strict con-
formist to group norms and standards (or to the views of one authorita-
tive individual) and who therefore is psychologically unable to make
genuine choices as between alternative courses of action, one cannot be
in a position to be advised. Consider for example, the case of the
student whose obsessive passions for her teacher leads her blindly to
do all that he requests of her or even suggests to her. She is so
closely tied to him that whatever he says is sufficient to block out
from her view all other considerations. Thus she is, in effect, unable
to choose between alternative views and (or) courses of action. His
advice to her on some matter would be an occasion for unquestioning
obedience rather than an occasion for thought, reflection and,
ultimately, choice. She would not see it as advice because she could
not--that is, because she is unable to distinguish between "the teacher

said to me to do this" and "the teacher advised me to do this." The

195

latter entails reasons and hence involves choice, whereas the former _
does not necessarily entail reasons nor involve choice.26
The position of the advisee as chooser (and as recognizer of
good reasons for doing something) is best brought out by the case of
one's receiving conflicting pieces of advice from different sources.
Suppose you are uncertain about the best course of action to take in
some situation and you ask one person for advice who replies that you
ought to do X; then you ask another person and he says you ought to do
Y, not X (X and Y being incompatible courses of action). What do you
do? You could go on getting further advice, then tally up your pieces
of advice as to whether they support on balance doing X or doing Y; or
you could examine the different reasons given for your doing X and
your doing Y and judge which seems to you to be the weightiest reason(s)
overall. In the end however you have to choose which course of action
to take. Closing one's eyes and blindly going for one piece of advice
over another is not choosing. If you are not prepared to reflect on
the reasons offered by your various advisers for doing X on the one
hand and Y on the other in the light of the requirements of your
present situation and your objectives, then your seeking advice in the
first place was a hollow move on your part because evidently you do not

at bottom wish to be in a position to choose for yourself what you

ought to do. In advising contexts, especially where pieces of advice

 

 

26This case should not be confused with that of having respect
for one's teacher. Respect for one's teacher (because he is wise or
knowledgeable or understanding or fair, etc.) recognizes a distance
and distinction between oneself and the other person whereas the example
cited above blurs and tends to collapse this distinction. Respect for
another does not prevent one from receiving advice from that other;'but
obsessive passion for that other normally does.

196

conflict, choosing what one ultimately is to do involves (a) knowing
what one most wants, (b) knowing one's limitations, and one's present
position and other relevant aspects of his situation, and (c) matching
that piece of advice (from among other possible though incompatible
pieces) which best fits one's situation, i.e., the piece which is

most likely to solve satisfactorily the problem at hand. Being an
advisee therefore not only involves being free and able to choose (and
face choice-situations) but being able to reflect soberly on one's
situation in the light of the array of advice before one--advice, some
of which may profitably cast additional light on one's own situation.
Thus, being in a position of advisee involves certain activities of
mind such as reflecting, planning, deliberating, judging, etc. which
are logically prior to the activity of choosing one piece of advice
over another.

One might argue however that such situations of conflict in
advising are uncommon and that normally when one receives advice he
just follows it more or less automatically. But what does this mean?
It could mean (I suppose) that when people receive advice they follow
it without reflecting on it or on the reasons given; they follow the
advice, in other words, as a matter of course. Hence one might argue
that normally we do not gpgggg to follow our adviser's injunctions,
and therefore the condition of being a chooser is not required of one
ggg_advisee. Yet choosing is inescapably part of the advisee's role.
Even if one more or less just follows whatever his adviser suggests
doing, it is the case that the former must thereby have respect for

his adviser and have confidence in what his adviser says; and this

197

presupposes a careful choosing of one's adviser in the first place.

It is true of course, that one does not often know enough about a
person when one first seeks advice from him; but if one is unsatisfied
or unhappy about the advice one is receiving one is free to choose
another adviser. There would indeed be something odd about an advisee
claiming that his adviser is misguided or that he lacks respect for and
confidence in his adviser but still goes on following that person's
advice. Further, one need only to follow (as a matter of course) bad
advice gggg_to realize that he alone is responsible and that he could
have done otherwise--i.e., chosen differently.

Yet it may still be thought by some that, by couching our
discussion of the advisee conditions in terms of mental activities like
reflecting, deliberating, deciding, choosing, we are pitching our
account too high and therein denying many the opportunity of ever
receiving advice. For is it not the case (they would say) that we
advise another to do something precisely because that person is unable
to decide for himself what he is to do--that our advising, in other
words, is clearly pg: getting that other person out of some situation
from which he can not extricate himself? This, I fear, is a misleading
way of speaking about advising and it turns on an ambiguity in the
expression "unable to decide." If by "unable to decide" we mean that
the advisee does not have the requisite information, knowledge or
understanding about some external matter or even about certain aspects
of his own situation such that in light of this deficiency he cannot
decide what to do, then it is ggt_a misconception to say that we advise

others who are unable to decide for themselves given their present lack

 

198

of information. Here "unable" does not mean a deficiency in performing

 

certain mental tasks (e.g., reflecting, deciding, etc.) but a deficiency
on the part of the advisee in relevant data. Or if by tunable to
decide" we mean that one has certain conflicting interests, purposes,
goals, etc., and cannot decide what to do because he is uncertain

which of these he desires to pursue most, then there is nothing

unusual about the claim that we advise others who are unable to decide

for themselves given their present uncertainty about the relative

 

strengths of their interests. Again the advisee is merely deficient

 

in certain information which (if he had) would help him clarify and
(or) rank his desires and objectives. To inform another and to assist
that other in clarifying priorities is not to decide for that other
what he is to do but to lay the groundwork for gyp_to decide. On the
other hand if by "unable to decide" we mean that the advisee cannot
make decisions, see the point of reason, etc., because of certain
mental inabilities or emotional instabilities that cloud and distort
his thinking or because of (other) psychological disorders and defects,
then it is simply meaningless to say that we advise people because
they themselves are unable to decide what they are to do. It is
meaningless since in this last sense of "unable" it is simply not
possible to say of persons with the disabilities in question that they
can be in positions to receive advice in the first place. Thus when
we speak of giving others advice because they are unable to decide for
themselves what to do, unless we wish to be speaking unintelligibly we
had better use "unable to decide" in one or other (or both) of the
first two senses identified above, not the last sense. In using

language in the way suggested here it would then be false to say that

199

our advising another is ggp_getting that person out of some predicament
he could not extricate himself from. He must get out of it himself;
our advising him hopefully will be of help to him.

Our claim that the account of the advisee is not “too rich" can
be strengthened, I believe, by an appeal to the findings of develop-
mental psychology. To perform the mental acts associated with being
a chooser not only presupposes freedom from various constraints but
a requisite level of cognitive maturity as well. If the mental acts
in question are such that they require a level of cognitive maturity
that is reached (say) only in adulthood or perhaps later life or only
by a very few people then our account apparently would be too rich.

Let us therefore briefly determine what age groups would likely be
excluded from the role of advisee by appealing to stages of develop-
ment both in respect of cognitive maturity and absence of certain
external constraints (social-moral maturity).

To take the latter, and by now the more familiar, case first
we may say that since young children, according to Piaget g§_gl,, are
under the influence of adult constraint and unilateral respect for
authority figures (i.e., adults) it seems to follow that they (children)
are thereby unable (because basically unfree) to make genuine choices
between alternative views and courses of action. Assuming this to be
so, then because young children (under age 9) are generally not free
or not sufficiently free to choose they are not in a position to be
advised; and thus it seems that parents, teachers and other adults
who attempt to advise young children will almost always fail in their

efforts. They will fail because they will not be seen by the children

200

to be advising; and they will not thus be seen because young children
basically conceive of adult injunctions as objects of obedience. This
will be particularly so if teachers, parents and others use the
imperative sentence (which, of course, they are entitled to do) in

their attempts to advise young children for evidently, the young child
will not be able to distinguish between the use of the imperative
sentence to advise and the use of it to command or to order--their
conceiving of all imperative sentences uttered by adults as commands.
Even if adults attempt to advise these young children by using the
subjunctive or ought sentences or the explicit advising sentence it is
still unlikely that the latter will conceive of what is being said to
them as anything other than commands or orders. For what the child

at this stage perceives is not just what is said but more significantly
ggg_says it and the ygy (tone of voice etc.) in which it is said--in
this case, adults in positions of authority over him and speaking firmly,
all of which is normally a sufficient contingent condition for the

young child's obedience. To generalize somewhat, it seems unlikely then
that on this basis children in elementary school in the main below about
fifth grade would be in a position to be advised whereas those in middle
school (or senior public school) and secondary school ggg1g_be in a
position to be advised by adults. I say "could" because it is well to
recall at this point that stages of cognitive and moral development are
more than age-related. If a twelve, fourteen or Sixteen year-old
student is to be in a position to be advised other developmental condi-
tions have to be satisfied, as we have seen, notably that of social

experience (interaction) in peer groups thereby enabling the development

201

of mutual co-operation and respect (and without which it would be diffi-
cult if not impossible for one to make genuine choices as between
alternative views and courses of action). It is not impossible that an
adolescent or adult still be at that stage of development typically
associated with the four to eight year old group. However the age cate-
gories remind us that the development (say) of mutual respect and co-
operation is not likely to manifest itself much before pre-adolescence;
and that typically by pre-adolescence the freeing of oneself from much
of the adult constraint of earlier years is in the completing phases
(other things being equal). So on the basis of one's being relatively
free from phenomena like Piaget's adult constraint and unilateral
respect, it seems that, on average, persons from pre-adolescence upward
ggg_be in positions to be advised though it does not follow that any
such person i§_in a position to be advised.

Obviously this is not a sufficient condition for being an
advisee. By the period of pre-adolescence does the individual normally
have the requisite cognitive maturity in order to reflect, deliberate,
judge and choose? To answer this we must turn to what Piaget, Kohlberg
and others have to say about "Operational thinking." For our purposes
it will suffice to refer to just the last two stages (or eras) of
operational thinking, namely "concrete operational thought" and "formal
operational thought." The former is characteristic of the thinking of

27

young children from about ages six to ten. Success at concrete

operational thinking is apparently picked out by the child's mastery of

 

27Kohlberg and Gilligan, "The Adolescent as a Philosopher: The
Discovery of the Self in a Postconventional World," p. 1063.

202

certain relational operations with concrete objects (e.g., grouping,
classifying, placing in series, conserving, etc.). Thus the level of
thought tied to concrete operations is circumscribed by one's experi-
ence with physical external objects (things) in one's environment.
For the concrete operational person the "real" is the physical world
and in particular that part of the physical world with which he has had
personal experience. Normally he is unable to imagine or envisage
possibilities, events, occurrences that he has not already experienced
in the physical world; so it is extremely unlikely that he could pre-
dict or forecast consequences of actions that have not yet taken place
in his space and his time. Thus concrete operational thinking is
limiting thinking but evidently necessary, nonetheless, for one's
passage into the era of formal operational thinking which is character-
istic of the thinking of individuals generally from age eleven to

adulthood.28

Apparently as this stage develops it is possible for one
"to see relations as simultaneously reciprocal," to “order triads of
propositions or relations“ and eventually to construct all possible
combinations of relations . . . and (to undertake finally) deductive

hypothesis-testing."29

The era of formal operational thought is the
era of "reasoning about reasoning." It is thus possible for the
individual capable of formal operational thinking to anticipate condi-
tions different from those in his immediate experience. Unending
possibilities open up. One can envisage or project events into the

future and imagine or conceive of oneself exchanging roles with other

 

Ibid., p. 1063.

203

persons. The "real" is no longer just the external physical world but
in addition the internal world of ideas, thoughts, concepts, abstrac-
tions and so on. Hence formal operational thinking is (or tends to be)
liberating thinking.

Now being in a position to make choices as between alternative
views, courses of action etc. involves, in part, being able to envisage
and project consequences of events yet to take place and being able to
judge whether such consequences are what one really wants or what fits
with one's situation or one's projected situation. To think in this way
is at least to have a conception of the future as real (not just of the
present and the immediate as real). These activities of mind (reflect-
ing, deliberating, envisaging, etc.) as we have already noticed are
logically prior and necessary for choosing. It is evidently the case
then that the level of cognitive maturity required for being in a
position to choose is that characterized by formal operational thinking.
And since choosing itself is a condition of being an advisee, giygg_

the adviser's input, we may say that the level of cognitive maturity

 

required for receiving and acting on advice of at least a non-moral
kind is also that characterized by formal operational thinking. And
finally since one does not normally begin to think at this level until
pre-adolescence (about age 11 according to Kohlberg), assuming prior
mastery of concrete operational thinking, it would seem that the

middle school (or senior public school) student ggp_be in a position

to be advised from the point of view of having sufficient cognitive
maturity. Again, caution is in order. This does not mean that every-
one from age eleven onwards is in a position to receive advice, because

not everyone from that age is cognitively mature in the sense of having

' 204

reached and mastered the level of formal operational thinking.

Kohlberg reminds us that sizeable proportions Of adults never develop
the capacity for abstract thought, but of those who do, most develop

it in early adolescence (age eleven to fifteen).30 However, these
findings on the whole square well with the ones on a few pages ago in
which it was stated that it is also at the period of pre-adolescence
when one is (normally) sufficiently free from external adult constraint
and pressure to be in a position to make choices for oneself. Evidently
then there is a (rough) parallel between the rate of cognitive develop-

ment gpg_social-moral development31

such that during pre-adolescence
both lines of development enter into new and important stages respec-
tively, each of which turn out to be requisite stages for being in the
position of advisee (and, of course, for that matter, adviser). In
the former case it is the stage of formal operational thinking and in
the latter, the stage of co-operation, mutual respect and reciprocity.
These findings do pgt_suggest that our account of the advisee is
pitched too high by making it possible for too few to receive advice.
For if the findings are (generally) correct then we can say it is at
least in principle possible for students in the upper elementary school
years and beyond to be in positions to be advised to do one thing
rather than another.

In reply to the second general question posed at the outset of

the chapter, namely "Who can be advised?" I answer that to be advised

one must have (a) facility with the language, (b) staying, attentive

 

30
31

Ibi ., p. 1065.
Ibid., p. 1072.

205

or heeding power, (c) awareness of self and others, (d) freedom to
choose (and all that that involves respecting social and cognitive
developments.) These conditions are also conditions for the adviser
but there, we recall, the list was longer, indicating that the adviser
has other conditions to meet which the advisee does not. In addition,
we have noted that the advisee can satisfy certain conditions which
the adviser cannot, at least in so far as the giving and accepting of
non-moral advice is concerned (or so it appears). There seems to be
no reason why egoists cannot be in a position to accept non-moral
advice, or a person who disregards the interests of others, provided
these people satisfy the above conditions (a) to (d) which they can,
with consistency, do. Further, the advisee must recognize that he is
in a position to demand reasons for the advice he is given; it is
within his right to do so. We do not speak of the adviser demanding
reasons for his advisee. In summary we may say that in so far as the
giving of non-moral advice is concerned, while the adviser still has a
@9531 role to play, the advisee need only have a prudential role to
play; hence an important difference between advisers and advisees (in

addition of course, to the other differences noted on pp. 190-193.

CHAPTER V

MORAL ADVISING IN THE SECONDARY SCHOOL

In this chapter I propose to examine three related issues:
(i) the concept of moral advice, (ii) the teacher as moral adviser,
and (iii) the student as moral advisee. Regarding (ii) I shall build
the discussion there on the necessary conditions for the adviser to
meet which I established in the last chapter. Respecting (iii) I
shall analyse the position of the student advisee from the point of
view of the stages of moral development typically found in the 13-18

year age span.

5.1 Moral Advice

When I use the expression "moral advice“ I am assuming that
the term "moral" provides a classification rather than an evaluation
of the advice. I am not saying then that the expression "moral advice"
means "good advice" as I do when I use the expression "moral person"
to mean "good person." Rather by "moral advice" I intend to classify
the advice thus differentiating it from other classes or kinds of
advice such as medical, legal economic, vocational, spiritual, etc.
advice. My use of "moral" in "moral advice" is to be contrasted
with “non-moral" not "immoral." If I want to evaluate a piece of
moral advice then I shall have to add such modifiers as “good" or

"bad,“ "sound" or "unsound," "helpful“ or "misleading." As I am

206

207

using the expression "X is apiece of moral advice" here it does not
of itself tell us whether it is good or bad advice. Judgments about
the soundness (unsoundness) of a piece of moral advice are made in
the light of criteria that differ from those for classifying advice
as moral, or economic, legal and so on.

To talk about moral advice as distinct from these other
kinds of advice presupposes that the moral domain (domain of morality)
can be differentiated from other domains like the medical, legal,
economic, and so on. That is to say, we should be able to give some
specification of the moral domain in light of which the notion of
moral advice can begin to take shape. Prior to describing moral
advice we need to describe the moral domain on which the former will
feed. In the last chapter I attempted to mark out some of the
features of morality--features of both a formal and material kind.
There I said, on the material side, that morality concerns the
relations of one individual to others and that it calls for a con-
sideration of the effects of one's actions on others from their point
of view. On the formal side I examined the features of universaliza-
bility and prescriptivity. I take it that these items (both the
material and formal) are what fill in (at least partially) the moral
domain and which therefore help mark off that domain from other
domains. Filling in these other (non-moral) domains seems to be a
wholly descriptive function. The moral domain, on the other hand,
has its special difficulties in this regard for when one attempts to
specify its content that activity inevitably is charged as being non-

neutral. The charge Specifically is that in explicating the moral

208

domain one is not in fact describing the constituents of that domain
but is, rather, stating a preference for those constituents over some
others.' In "describing" the moral domain one is charged with appealing
to presupposed moral standards and thence that the whole attempt is
question-begging right from the start. I am not at all sure that
this problem--if it is a problem--can be solved; and I know of no

one who has satisfactorily worked his way through it. Fortunately
the solution of the problem is not really germane to the balance of
this study. The position that I shall take on this matter is simply
that in describing the moral domain--in specifying its constituents--
a non-neutral stance cannot be avoided. To describe morality is to
make a moral stand. Thus in saying that morality is about (in part),
the effects of one person's actions on others from their point of
view or to say that morality has a social dimension to it is to take
a moral position however minimal that might be.

In the giving of non-moral advice, of which there are numerous
examples in this study, a minimum of two people are involved--the
adviser and the advisee. The problem in light of which an advisee
seeks assistance or in light of which advice is given is assumed to
be a personal one, i.e., one that does not have ramifications
respecting the interests or concerns of other peOple. A doctor
advises a young bachelor to stop smoking. It is in his own best
interests to do so. The concern here is strictly a prudential one.
Five years later, the young man is married, has two children, heavy
mortgage payments and still enjoys his cigarettes. The doctor again

advises him to stop smoking. This time however the doctor's reasons.

209

are expanded beyond the earlier prudential ones. PYour prematuref
death would leave your wife and children in an extremely difficult
situation. It is no longer just in your own best interests to

stop smoking but also in Epgip_best interests. Think of the struggle
they would have if you weren't around." The advice given in both
cases is essentially the same but the reasons given for the advice in
each case are substantially different. They are different because

at the time of the young man's second visit to the doctor the farmer's
situation had radically changed. He now has dependents whose welfare
is to be taken into consideration whereas before he need only consider
his own welfare. At the time of the first visit the doctor need only
offer prudential considerations for his advice; at the second visit he
offers moral considerations which take into account the interests of

a third party beyond the advisee. In the first case the advice given
was strictly prudential advice; in the second it was moral advice. A
major feature then which justifies re-classifying the same advice
(essentially) from "prudential" to "moral" is the others-regarding
considerations that are taken into account. This presupposes that the
interests of a third party are relevant to what the advisee may

decide to do--re1evant to the extent that the interests or well-being

of the party are likely to be affected by the advisee's actions.1

 

Alt should not be thought however that the foregoing example
serves as a model for showing how we get from prudential advice to
moral advice. As a model it would be both oversimplified and mislead-
ing. For it indicates that the only change in going from prudential
to moral advice is in the kinds of reasons the adviser appeals to and
that back up the advice to another--the actual advice itself remaining
unchanged. In the above example the content of the advice (from pru-
dential to moral) remained unchanged because it would have served the

210

In the giving of moral advice then it seems that a minimum of
three persons are involved--the adviser, the advisee and what I will
call the "third party." This is the party whose wants, needs and
(or) interests stand to be affected by the proposed actions of the
advisee. The third party is also referred to as "others." In the
above example the third party consists of the advisee's immediate
family. In other cases or situations it might be but one person; or
it might consist of the groups (social and working) in which the
advisee daily circulates; and in some cases the third party might well
pick out the members of the entire community. This conception of
moral advising that takes into account both the interests of the agent
(advisee) and that of others when the agent's situation is such that
his actions are likely to affect others, follows directly from the
analysis both of advising ggg_of the moral domain. In advising pg5y§g_
the point of view taken into account is that of the advisee; in the

strictly moral domain it is that of others as well. Thus in moral

 

best interests of the advisee in both cases, though in the second

case it would also have served the best interests of his family too.
All this is perhaps coincidental. In many cases where one goes from
strictly prudential to moral advice by introducing relevant others-
regarding considerations the act advised also changes at the same
time. Thus in advising situations where relevant moral considerations
have been introduced and take precedence over the other existing
considerations (which formerly had precedence) the advisee may more
than likely be advised to follow a new course of action now which
would benefit others but no longer himself (at least in the short run);
and the same piece of advice cannot both suggest that he follow a
course of action that would be to his advantage and that would not

be to his advantage. So in going from an earlier piece of strictly
prudential advice to moral advice the advice itself will normally

be changed (unlike our above example).

211

advising the two points of view, that of the advisee and of the
"others," are thereby brought together for consideration. The one
view centers on what is desirable for the advisee; the other on what
is desirable for the third party.

But this conception presents certain fairly obvious diffi-
culties. Let us consider some of these from the position of the
adviser in this tripartite relationship. In non-moral advising where,
strictly speaking, only the personal interests of the advisee are at
stake it is the job of the adviser (as we have seen) to take those
interests into account and thence to advise doing what will most
likely promote the well-being of the advisee himself. Such an
activity involves temporarily taking the point of view of the advisee.
In moral advising on the other hand it seems that the "vision" and
"adaptability" of the adviser must be substantially extended to
include now the point of view of the third party likely to be affected
by the advisee's actions. Thus the moral adviser at once must be able
not only to cast himself into the position of the advisee but also
into that of the third party. In the former position the adviser
imagines himself as the advisee with the advisee's problem and asks
"Would I, if I were this advisee, find doing such and such (i.e.,
following the advice) acceptable for me?" In the latter position
the adviser also imagines himself as the third party asking "Would
I be prepared if I were this person, to accept the consequences of
the advisee's acting on the prOposed advice?" In other words the
moral adviser must be able to see a proposed possible solution to an

advisee's problem (i.e., must be able to see the advice) from two

212

logically distinct points of view--that of the advisee and that of the
third party. Evidently the moral adviser must judge impartially
what is in the best interests of the persons occupying these logically
distinct positions. Advising pgp_§g_commits him to act in the best
interests of his advisee to the extent that the advice he gives if
acted upon will be to the advisee's advantage as far as one can tell;
and yet morality commits the moral adviser apparently to act also
in the best interests of the third party to the extent that his
advice be such that if acted upon by the advisee will not be disad-
vantageous to that party. Now if the best interests of the advisee
happen to be such that in following the advice the best interests of
the third party are also promoted then the burden on the adviser is
clearly lessened. If however this is not the case--if what will
serve the advisee will disserve the third party--are we not placing
the moral adviser in an unreasonable if not impossible position from
which to adjudicate between the advisee and the third party since he
is presumably to be taking the best interests of both gpg_moral
adviser into account and advising accordingly? Is not the moral
adviser in some kind of dilemma here out of which he cannot satis-
factorily work his way? It might even be asked "Is the notion of
moral advice not paradoxical?"

There are different responses that can be made to this point.
I have suggested that in moral advising the basis from which the
adviser reaches a piece of moral advice be expanded over that for
non-moral advice in respect of the kinds of reasons appealed to.

Normally reasoning in moral advising consists in appealing to both

213

moral and prudential considerations. In Chapter III, where prudential
advising was discussed, only prudential considerations were called
upon to support a piece of advice there. Now in those cases where a
piece of proposed advice if followed by the advisee would serve his
own interests but disserve those of a third party the moral adviser
must be prepared to re-examine the reasons by assigning relative
weights to them so that one or other of the sets of reasons (pruden-
tial or moral) are justifiably superior in the situation. The reasons
given the greater weight will thus support the drawing of one kind

of advice rather than some other. If after due deliberation the

moral adviser judges the moral considerations in the case to be the
weightier then he will advise taking that course of action which
benefits the third person or party but not necessarily the advisee.
On the other hand if the prudential reaons are judged to be the
weightier the act advised will be that which benefits the advisee

not the third party.

It will be claimed that this last case is simply not possible
in the domain of mgpgl_advising. Someone will argue that in moral
advising the moral or others-regarding reasons must take precedence
over self-regarding reasons in cases of conflict of interest and that
under those circumstances moral advice must not be such as to serve
the intereSts of the advisee at the expense of the third party. The
view that moral considerations take precedence over self-regarding
ones is held, for example, by Baier. "The very raison d'etre of a
morality is to yield reasons which overrule the reasons of self-

interest in those cases when everyone's following self-interest would

214

be harmful to everyone. Hence moral reasons are superior to all
others."2 Of course if Baier is right that moral reasons are superior
to all others then as a moral adviser one has a good guide to use in
assigning weights to the moral and prudential considerations (when they
conflict) in reaching a piece of advice. One would, after the fashion
of Baier, assign the greater weight to the moral consideration when-
ever one's advisee is in a situation in which his acting on the proposed
advice would adversely affect the desires and interests of others.
This would mean that in all such cases the interests of the third
party would at least be protected if not positively promoted while the
interests of the advisee may well be disadvantageously placed at least
in the short run. In short using Baier's guide (as I will call it)
would relieve onegyg moral adviser of the burden of having to take
up imaginatively the position of the third party. At least it would
solve one's problem as adviser in being committed to give a piece of
advice that would at once be in the best interests of both advisee
and the third party in those situations where their interests are
at odds. The adviser would simply say that moral considerations are
special, that they must take precedence over any other kind of con-
sideration.

How rigorously does Baier intend the reader to treat his
claim that moral reasons are superior to all others? Are they always
superior; or is it possible that moral reasons could on some occasions

be justifiably over-ruled by other ones. On the other hand Baier's

 

2Baier, The Moral Point of View, p. 309.

215

claim is pointed in the right direction for is it not normally the
case that if doing X is desirable from the point of view of the
third party then "I advise you to do X" is a good piece of advice to
give? Or if doing Y would hamper or interfere with the third party
in its pursuit of its own interests and goals then is not this a good
reason for advising against that course of action? However would
these sorts of reasons always be superior? Baier says that only in
those cases when everyone's following self-interest would be harmful
to everyone do moral reasons take precedence over other reasons.
Thus if everyone's following self-interest would not be harmful to
everyone then presumably moral reasons would lose their superiority.
But Baier seems to think this latter situation is not empirically
possible. If moral reasons lose their superiority a state of nature
obtains. Thus moral reasons really are superior to all others. I
should want to leave open, however, at least the possibility that
there may be situations in which the moral reasons, though relevant,
are not superior say to reasons of self-interest or to reasons of
other kinds; and hence there may well be cases where advising a person
to do that which benefits him in the long run but not the third party
is justified and that such cases could be cases of ggpgl_advising in
which the advice given is moral advice.

As an example consider the case of a young artist who has
very evident artistic talent and who is thus capable of making a
significant contribution to art given an opportunity and a proper
environment in which to work. However it turns out he is married to

a devoted but also a very dependent woman. The artist is now convinced

216

being in a husband-wife relationship is a severe constraint on his
development as an artist. He believes that he cannot ever be in a
position to do the creative work (perhaps "masterpieces") which he and
others both know he is capable of doing unless he deserts his wife.
Yet he knows his desertion will cause his wife inordinate hardships.
Thus the young artist is torn between this fact (and the fact of his
commitment to her in the marriage vow) on the one hand gpg_his desire
on the other hand to pursue an objective not only for which he is more
than capable but one which provides for him the essence of his exis-
tence. If he asks for advice what would one advise him to do? In
citing this example I have in mind the artist Gauguin who did in fact
desert his wife in order to pursue his artistic interests and thereupon
produced works of art which by most standards are judged as "master-
pieces" in the Post-Impressionist tradition. Had Gauguin not deserted
his wife at this crucial point in his life it is arguable that today
there would be fewer significant works of art. How important a con-
sideration would this fact be if one were asked to give advice to a
young artist like Gauguin in a situation where if he did not desert
his wife he would not likely have produced great works of art. In a
situation like this aesthetic considerations might well take precedence
over moral considerations. To be sure the adviser would have to know
a good deal more both about the young artist and his abilities, his
wife (the sort of person she is, etc.) and their relationship, in
order to reach a decision on the weight to be attached to these con-
siderations. Indeed, there would also be prudential considerations

to take account of for clearly what the young artist wants to do and'

217

what (so it seems) would be in his best interests overall would be
his pursuing his artistic career uninterruptedly. If as adviser one
were to give superiority to the aesthetic consideration--the fact that
his being free to paint enables him to increase significantly the
stock of great works of art--one also promotes in the advice one gives
him, his own personal well-being if it is the case that all that he
can take delight in is just his own creative work.

It seems to me that this kind of case slips through Baier's
guide (as I understand it). Moral reasons are superior to all
others if everyone's following self-interest would be harmful to
everyone. Now in the above example we could not generalize in this
way because it is not possible for everyone to have the abilities and
temperaments commensurate with those of great artists. Topursue
self-interests in this sort of example is contingent on having these
exceptional requisite abilities. Only very few ggglg_in fact fOllow
self-interests here and their following their self-interests would
not be harmful to everyone. So I take it to be possible to say of
this kind of example that the moral considerations are not necessarily
superior to all others. The prudential considerations or aesthetic (or
both) might take precedence over the moral even though in advising a
young artist to desert his wife in order to pursue his career the
woman is placed at a clear disadvantage. I wish to say again that
this case and this kind of advice would still in my view be called a
moral case and moral advice, respectively, even though non-moral con-
siderations are given the greater weight in the deliberations that

lead up to the particular piece of advice. This is so because the

218

ultimate question being decided here is a moral question--namely a
question about whether we are to advise a course of action favoring
the advisee or one favoring the third party (assuming we cannot do
both to their satisfaction). If there were no third party or if the
interests of the third party didn't relate to the desire (aim, objec-
tive) of the advisee then the situation would pg§_be a moral one and
the advice would not be moral advice. But this is not the case here.
There is a third party, her interests and well-being are connected

to the advisee's (artist) desires and those interests are considered
though, on balance, they do not override. Indeed it is the tension
between the moral and non-moral considerations which helps make the
overall situation a moral one; and the fact that in the final analysis
the advice favors the non-moral considerations is not sufficient to
say that either the advice itself is non-moral or that it is bad moral
advice. In moral situations and in situations of moral advising the
interests of all parties concerned are to be considered. If the
advisee's self-interests take precedence over moral considerations
then there must be certain further reasons to support this preference
--say the special position of the advisee or special entitlements.

In strictly prudential advising these extra considerations need not
apply. But in the present case they do and such considerations would
doubtless consist of the following facts: (a) exceptional artistic
talent, (b) concomitant production of significant works of art,

(c) the necessity of being free from marital constraints to bring (b)

about. In the absence of special considerations of the kind the moral

219

reasons would indeed be superior and the advisee would be urged not
to abandon his wife.

If one gives up Baier's guide for use in assigning weights
to the various considerations in reaching pieces of moral advice, a
price must be paid. It will be recalled that I appealed to his guide
as a possible means for lessening the "load" on the moral adviser.
That load consists of the adviser's having to place himself imagina-
tively in two logically distinct positions (advisee and third party)
and judging what would best serve the interests of both (ideally). If
these interests are incompatible how best is the adviser to adjudicate?
Baier's view would be that the moral or third party interests are
superior to all other considerations; and this seemed helpful until
the artist's example was examined which seemed to support a somewhat
broader interpretation of moral advice-giving. There is however
another response to the so-called adviser's dilemma. This consists
in the adviser shifting part of the burden of reasoning onto the
advisee; specifically that part in which the position of the third
party is imaginatively taken up by the latter. Thus the adviser might
say to advisee "Imagine yourself in the place of this other (third)
person and then ask yourself 'Would I want what my proposed actions
would do to him be done to me also?'" This move on the part of the
adviser is aimed at getting the advisee to recognize that his actions
have ramifications beyond himself--that in a sense his problem is not
just his alone but that it has a public dimension to it--by getting
him to reflect imaginatively on the plight of the third person as the

"receiver" of the consequences of his own (advisee's) actions. I am'

220

reminded here of what Dewey calls "sympathy" in a moral situation. He
says “The emotion of sympathy ismorally invaluable . . . . Intelligent
sympathy widens and deepens concern for consequences. To put ourselves
in the place of another, to see things from the standpoint of his aims
and values, to humble our estimate of our own pretensions to the level
they assume in the eyes of the impartial observer, is the surest way

to appreciate what justice demands in concrete cases."3

Load-shifting
by the adviser is certainly facilitated if the advisee has the sympathy
of which Dewey speaks.

A number of possibilities now arise. The first is that the
advisee is sympathetically attuned to others in the way indicated
and is thus disposed to be guided by the others-regarding situation
without the adviser himself having to take up that point of view for
him and having to tell him what it would be like to be "over there"
on the receiving end of his own actions. The second possibility is
that while the advisee recognizes the existence of a third party and
their interests he fails to see that these interests are of concern
to him in deciding what he is to do. As far as the advisee is con-
cerned the well-being of a third party is not relevant to his case;
their interests simply do not count insofar as his own actions are
concerned. Thus he is not disposed to consider others-regarding
reasons as relevant. A third possibility is that the advisee simply

fails to recognize that there is a third party whose members will be

affected by his actions ggg_advisee.

 

3John Dewey, Theory of the Moral Life (New York: Holt,
Rinehart and Winston, 1932), p. 107.

 

221

Clearly the first possibility is non-problematic for the
adviser or at least is relatively so. The second and third possi-
bilities are problematic for the adviser. I shall consider here only
the second one since the remarks made about it will apply to a con-
siderable extent to the third possibility as well. Suppose then that
a moral adviser has an advisee who fits the second possibility
described above. In this situation the advisee either simply fails
to see that his actions have ramifications beyond himself or he openly
disputes with the adviser that his problem has a public dimension to
it. That is to say, the advisee may challenge the advisor's "reading"
of the case. The former may claim that the adviser's inclusion of
moral considerations is mistaken--that his problem is not a moral
problem but strictly a private and personal one. So the adviser's
recommendation that the advisee do such and such because of the
others-regarding considerations presumably would be rejected out of
hand by the advisee. This being the case there are two moves open to
the adviser assuming his assessment of the Situation is correct. We
could try to convince rationally the advisee that moral considerations
really do apply to the latter's situation by bringing forward further
reasons in support of the others-regarding considerations already
cited by him. These further reasons would of necessity be increasingly
broader in scope so as to be inclusive of the earlier reasons. For
example the adviser might point out that failure to take account of
the interests of others ultimately places certain institutions, which
are the fabric of one's society and which make the pursuits of personal

goals possible, on shaky grounds. There is however a limit to reasoning

222

here. The adviser cannot continue to go behind reasons for further
reasons which justify the former for very long. Reasoning soon comes
to an end; and if in coming to an end the advisee still claims the
third-party interests are irrelevant to his case there is nothing
further the adviser can do in this direction--that is in the direction
of providing reasons.

There is however a further move open to the moral adviser.
Appeals to moral considerations in giving moral advice will not work
for the type of advisee presently under consideration. Yet it does
not follow that such an advisee is not in a position to receive some
moral advice provided appropriate considerations are brought forward
by the adviser. Appeals to prudential considerations appear to be
in order. Whereas "I advise you to tell the truth else the good repu-
taions of these people will be unjustifiably damaged" will not receive
the assent of the present type of advisee, ”I advise you to tell the
truth else you risk indictment" will unless, of course, the advisee
is a fanatic. Barring this, the second utterance which appeals to
the advisee's own well-being as a reason for being advised to tell the
truth stands a good chance of being heeded. Normally the advisee
will be less likely to dispute the moral advice given him if it can
be shown that in not following it his own interests are placed in
jeopardy. This might be considered a negative approach to the giving
of moral advice; for does this particular approach not concede that
the advisee still continues to see the world from a self-interested
point of view? To be sure it does. Further one might think that

giving a piece of moral advice on purely prudential grounds is a

223

logically impossible move to make. But clearly it is not; for if a
piece of good moral advice can be got across to an advisee by
appealing to the effect that following that advice will have on the
latter's own well-being then surely it is better that he be advised

on prudential grounds than not at all (which at this point is the only
other alternative). Moreover does this approach also not leave room
for an egoist to be in a position to receive some moral advice?

There are however certain evident limitations to moral advice-
giving in situations where only prudential reasons are considered.
Appealing to prudential considerations in the way just indicated will
by no means always transform seeming implausible moral advice (from
advisee's point of view) into plausible moral advice. This kind of
appeal works only in those situations where the adviser's moral recom-
mendation to do one thing rather than another is of such a kind that
following it also enables the advisee to preserve or protect his own
well-being. It is doubtful that the following of all moral advice
has this enabling feature built into it; for some pieces of moral
advice, perhaps most in fact, will call for a course of action which
if follOwed could not serve or preserve at one and the same time both
the interests<n~well-being of advisee and third party but only that

of the latter. In such cases, an appeal to strictly prudential con-

 

siderations by the adviser in order to get the advisee to assent to
a piece of moral advice is out of place because the prudential con-
siderations here fail to bear at all on the advisee's situation. In
other words the appeal here to prudential considerations to get the

advisee to assent to a piece of moral advice is improper when, by the‘

224
nature of the act advised, following it in no way could be connected
with the promotion of the interests or well-being of the advisee.
Such a move or appeal by the adviser would be pure deception; for he
would be trying to make the prudential consideration look as though
it backed the advice he was giving when in fact it could not. Thus
a second limitation is as follows. Just as reasoning comes to an
end, so also must advising. If the advisee disputes the relevance
of moral considerations and rejects them despite the adviser's attempt
at justification of the advice by further and further appeals to
reasons and if prudential (or other non-moral) considerations (unlike
the above example of truth-telling) are not relevant then there is
nothing further the adviser can do. Advising comes to an end. One
could of course try to use various non-rational or psychological
techniques (e.g., goading, brain-washing) to get another person to
assent to doing something but these activities are logically distinct
from advising and whatever one got the other person to do it could
not be described as the latter's following advice nor could the former
person be described as an adviser. If reasons fail and if a disagree-
ment between the adviser and advisee persists respecting the relevance
of the third party's interests to the advisee's situations, all an
adviser can do at this point is simply to repeat his advice. We
cannot ggg_adviser go on from here to cause or induce the advisee to
follow the advice using say a psychological theory of meaning (follow-
ing for example C. L. Stevenson's emotive theory of ethics). A line

is thus drawn beyond which the adviser cannot step; and if he does

225

he is no longer functioning as an adviser to another but as that
other's brain-washer or goader or something of that sort.

I turn now more specifically to the content of moral advice.
This, one might say, consists of various moral issues while moral
advising consists of specifying a course of action for the advisee to
consider following relative to some moral issue. Moral issues commonly
are thought to cover such items as honesty, truth-telling, debt-paying,
promise-keeping, kindness, respect for others (including matters
relating to sexual conduct) or stealing, cheating, lying deceiving
physically harming others (including issues of abortion, capital pun-
ishment). Thus moral advising would be the act of saying to another
in appropriate situations that he (she) ought (or ought not) to
cheat, lie, keep a promise, pay a debt, help another, and so on. It

would seem to follow that since moral principles commonly make these

 

sorts of items their subjects one could give moral advice to another
by making use of moral principles. For example, "I advise you to
follow the principle 'one ought to tell the truth'" appears to be a
perfectly good instance of giving moral advice. Whether or not it

is will depend on what has gone one before the utterance is given by
the adviser. It will depend on what the adviser has attended to in
the advisee's situation and on how the adviser conceives of moral
principles, in particular, their role or function. For simply knowing
the moral principles is not sufficient for being in a position thereby
to give moral advice. Further, moral principles are thought to satisfy
a condition of generality which on the face of it does not make them

suitable candidates for inclusion in the statement of a piece of moral

226

advice to another person--that statement having reference to a par-
ticular person in a concrete situation identified by certain specific
features. I am inclined to think that the mere stating of a moral
principle preceded by "I advise you to" is not a satisfactory way of
giving moral advice to another person.

To be sure moral principles, and for that matter duties and
obligations, have roles to play in moral advising contexts but it
seems to me that their roles are best played out at other levels, not
the level at which a piece of moral advice is given to another ng_a
linguistic act. One such level is this. I find myself in a situation
where two moral principles prescribe respectively that I both do and
not do the same thing. One principle, Pl, states that it is right
to do X and the other, P2, that it is wrong to do X. I make a promise
and therefore according to (say) Pl I ought to keep it. But my
keeping a promise (as it turns out) will result in a life being taken
or in the severe anguish of another and therefore according to P2
(one ought not to cause harm to another), I ought to break the promise.
So at once I both ought and ought not to keep the promise. What then
am I do do? Whichever way I act I do something of which I morally
disapprove. A plausible move for a person to make in these cases is
to seek moral advice from someone. Here then is a way in which moral
principles get involved in moral advising--namely by providing a
dilemmatic context or backdrop out of which moral advice-seeking may
arise. When two principles prescribe that one both ought and ought
not to perform the same act a climate is established in terms of

which a person may seek moral advice. An advisee may not realize that

227

his moral problem or puzzle arises out of a context in.which moral
principles conflict but the moral adviser should be able to make
clear to the advisee what the source of the latter's dilemma is and
thence what principles are involved. Of course not all moral
dilemmas are created in the same way. Some arise because of conflicts
between two duties or between two obligations or between a principle
and a duty or a principle and an obligation or a principle and a
personal ideal. Others arise when it is unclear as to whether any
agent is really under an obligation to do something in which case he
needs clarification of his situation and further information. Any
of these cases may be a sufficient condition for the seeking of moral
advice.

The claim for the role of moral principles in moral advising
thus far is rather a minimal one. A more positive or expansive claim
can be made by considering a second level (way) at (in) which moral
principles may function in moral advising, namely, at the level of
reasoning in moral advising. At this point it will be helpful to say
something about how moral principles are conceived of and how and
at what stage they come into reasoning in moral advising. To begin,
there is the view that moral principles are upheld in all circumstances
--that they always apply and that in no situation are exceptions justi-
fied. Principles are thus construed to be rigid and fixed in both
application and interpretation. Dewey suggests4 that this conception
of principles has arisen because "their origin in experience" as well

as "their proper use in further experience" is forgotten. He

 

4Dewey, Theorngf the Moral Life, p. 136.

228

characterizes this view of principles as their existing "in and of
themselves as if it were simply a question of bringing action under
them in order to determine what is right and good." Accordingly,
under the following principles, "one ought to tell the truth,“ "one
ought not to take the life of another," g11_acts of lying, stealing
and killing fall respectively, and are judged as ”wrong." Now there
are obvious difficulties with this conception of moral principles as
principles to be rigorously upheld in all cases and, not surprisingly,
attempts have been made to account in some way for exceptions to
principles without substantial loss in the force of the latter.
According to one attempt, moral principles are initially "provisional"
in nature but by building successive exceptions into them they become
"precise" in nature. "Suppose that we start off with a principle never
to say what is false, but regard this principle as provisional, and
recognize that there may be exceptions. Suppose, then, that we decide
to make an exception in the case of lies told in war-time to deceive
the enemy. The rule has now become 'Never say what is false, except
in war-time to deceive the enemy.‘ This principle, once the exCeption
has been made explicit and included in the wording of the principle

is not looser than it was before but tighter. In one large class

of cases . . . the position is now regulated; the principle lays down
that in these circumstances we may say what is false . . . . Thus, far
from principles like 'Never say what is false' being in some way
irredeemably loose, it is part of our moral development to turn them

from provisional principles into precise principles with their exceptions

229

definitely laid down."5

Whereas on the former conception of princi-
ples they are described as "fixed," "rigid," on Hare's view in the
final analysis they are described as "precise." Does this slightly
modified terminology represent a significant shift in view or not?
According to Hare the principle "never say what is false" is
provisional. The principle "never say what is false gyggpt_in
wartime to deceive the enemy" is less provisional, that is, more
precise. By expanding the list of exceptions and enumerating them in
the wording of the principle, the principle becomes increasingly pre-
cise. When all possible exceptions are.enumerated the principle is
precise. Thus for Hare "precise moral principle" means "moral prin-
ciple with all its exceptions spelled out in it." Why does Hare
stress precision in moral principles in this way? The answer to
this lies in the role he has these principles play. That role is
one of functioning as a major premise in a deductive argument which
when conjoined with a factual minor premise entails a valid conclu-
sion (in this case a moral judgment or imperative about what one is
to do). Given the rigor of deduction it is necessary that a moral
principle be conceived of as precise if_that principle is to function
as the major premise in the argument and as part of an entailment
relationship. In deduction, any uncertainty attached to the premises
must also be found in the conclusion. If the moral principle stated
in the major premise is loose or imprecise so also must be the moral

conclusion. To cast moral principles into the form of major premises

 

.SHare, The Language of Morals, pp. 52-54.

 

230

is to demand that they be precise (i.e., stated with the possible
exceptions laid out in the principle).

This conception of moral principles both.with respect to the
feature of precision (as Hare uses that term) and their role as
major premises is, I believe, mistaken. It is mistaken on at least
this one ground, namely that precision in moral principles is not
possible to attain. For it to be possible for a principle to be
precise (on Hare's terms) one would have to imagine all conceivable
cases of exceptions to any given moral principle in order to state it
ggpa precise principle. But how is one to know when all the possible
exceptions to a principle have been imagined? How would one know
when one has come to the end of the exceptions? And even if one could
conceive of all possible cases of exceptions the principle would be
so lengthy and so complex that it would not be possible to formulate
it or state it. Further, even within the exceptions themselves there
are ambiguities and possible further exceptions. Take Hare's first
exception to the principle "never say what is false" namely "except in
wartime to deceive the enemy." Does "wartime" cover cold wars as
well as hot wars or just the latter? If only the latter, why just
that? Cold-wartime could be interpreted as "all the time" so maybe
lying is justifiable all the time to deceive the enemy. Then does
"enemy" apply to peacetime as well as wartime? 00 groups like the
S.L.A. and the F.L.Q. count as "enemy?" Would one be justified in
lying to deceive these people? Basically, what counts as "wartime,"
"peacetime," "enemy" and so on? Clearly within this first exception

there are very substantial problems of both a conceptual and

231

justificatory nature which would have to be resolved before the excep-
tion could be appended meaningfully to the statement of the original
principle; and similarly for each succeeding exception. The task of
making provisional moral principles precise ones seems insurmountable.
A rather similar conception of moral principles is held by
Baier though I do not know that he would have them function as major
premises in a deductive argument. Nonetheless his view of principles
trades on "precision." He distinguishes between "making an exception
to a rule" and "a rule has an exception" and says: "As soon as this
muddle is cleared away, it can be seen that Kant is right in saying
that acting on principles implies making no exception in anyone's
favor, but wrong in thinking that therefore all moral rules must be

"6 His example of a principle with

absolutely without exception.
exceptions is that of killing. "Killing is wrong gglg§§_it is killing
in self-defense, killing by the hangman, killing of an enemy in war-
time, accidental killing, and possibly mercy killing. If it is one of
these types of killing, then it is ggtwrong."7 For Baier, these excep-
tions which are stated in the principle "more precisely define its

"8 Thus exceptions to moral principles function

range of application.
for both Baier and Hare in similar ways--they give principles their
precision. To know a moral principle is to know not just the bare

principle but also the "recognized"9 exceptions to it. Knowing the

 

6Baier, The Moral Point of View, p. 192.

 

7Ibid., p. 193.

8Ibid., p. 192.

9Ibid., p. 193.

232

principle entails knowing its exceptions. The exceptions are part of
the principle. Now I think that the criticisms which can be brought
against Hare's position on this matter can also be brought against
Baier. How, for example, does one recognize a "recognized exception"
in advance of examining some context in which killing is an issue?
How does one know when one has come to the end of all the recognized
exceptions? I will not rehearse again all the attendant difficulties
here. Let me say instead that the obvious strength of these views
(Hare's and Baier's) is that they recognize that moral principles
have exceptions to them--that principles need not be upheld in all
situations. But when this claim is examined it is seen that only
those provisonal principles in which exceptions are not stated need
not be upheld in all situations; whereas principles that have the
recognized exceptions included in them are to be upheld in every
remaining situation. The rigor found in the first conception of
principles seems to be sustained in this second present conception
though perhaps on a more constrained basis. The difference between
the two conceptions is just this. What the first view considers to
be fixed and rigid in the matter of principles, the present view
considers to be provisional. The earlier view takes "one ought to
tell the truth" as rigid, the latter as provisional (which may be
transformed however into a precise principle by enumerating all the
recognized exceptions). On the former view, "fixed" and "rigid" refer
to a principle's always being upheld in all situations; on the
latter, "precise" refers to a principle's including its exceptions--

that is, it refers to those residual situations in which a principle-

233

is always upheld. Finally the former view of principles does not
while the latter does, make the statement of a (precise) moral princi-
ple impossible.

Despite the above difficulties, these accounts of moral
principles suggest design criteria for a third conception of princi-
ples. What is needed is a conception in which principles are seen to
be (a) readily formulated (b) more like rules-Of-thumb, and (c) admit
of exceptions. Evidently the provisional quality of principles
identified by Hare satisfies these criteria whereas his notion of
”precise" principles would violate both (a) and (b). To admit that
principles can have exceptions to them is not the same thing as
building those exceptions into the statement of the principle. The
third view of principles stops short of incorporating exceptions into
the wording of the principle. Thus "one ought to tell the truth" is
neither rigid nor precise; it is provisional--not in the sense that
it may be discarded but in the sense that it may not always be upheld.
The advantage in conceiving of principles as provisional is that in
moral problem-situations it helps one to focus on the relevant issues
and facts and on actions that will need justification even though in
the final analysis, after examination and deliberation, a decision is
taken to act in such a way that overrides the principle. The fact
that the principle is ultimately "violated" fails to prevent it from
functioning as a useful guide in moral inquiry. As Dewey puts it "A
moral principle . . . gives the agent a basis for looking at and
examining a particular question that comes up. It holds before him

certain possible aspects of the act; it warns him against taking a

234

short of partial view of the act. It economizes his thinking by sup-
plying him with the main heads by reference to which to consider the

bearings of his desires and purposes; it guides him in his thinking by
suggesting to him the important considerations for which he should be

t."10

on the lookou Far from being a command to act in a given way,

a moral principle "is a tool for analyzing a special situation."]]
The difference between this third view of principles and the preceding
views is that taking moral principles as provisional (as guides) into
a situation rather than as precise moral imperatives in which excep-
tions are all worked out in advance, frees the agent to reason out
exceptions and deviations in the light of the particular contextual
features themselves. Does this third notion of principle then not
detract from the generality of moral principles? No, for "it is

clear that the various situations in which a person is called to
deliberate and judge have common elements . . . . It is also obvious
that general ideas are a great aid in judging particular cases. If
different situations were wholly unlike one another, nothing could be
learned from one which would be of avail in any other. But having
like points, experience carries over from one to another, and experi-
ence is intellectually cumulative. Out of resembling experiences gen-
eral ideas develop . . . . These ideas constitute principles."12

It is in the tradition of Dewey rather than Hare or Baier

that I think moral principles are best construed particularly for

 

10Dewey, Theory of the Moral Life, p. 141.

 

1]Ibid., p. 141.

lzlpjg,, p. 136. Emphasis added.

235

purposes of reasoning in moral advising. In conceiving of moral prin-
ciples in Dewey's way one need not deal with major premises in deductive
arguments nor be faced with moral conclusions or imperatives that are
logically entailed by the premises. Further, this third conception

of principles frees one (as already stated) from going into moral
problem-situations with preconceived views about recognized exceptions
and about precise limits of application of the moral principle. Such

a conception both enables one to be guided in but also to reflect

about a moral issue and how best to resolve it. An example might be
helpful here. A special children's play (let us suppose) is coming

to East Lansing for one night only. The actors and actresses involved
are nationally regarded for their skilled interpretations of children's
works. Some time ago I promised my daughter I would take her to the
play and she has been eagerly awaiting the event. She has done some
reading in advance about the play and we have discussed what she has
read. On the day of the play I receive a telephone call from a

dear friend and associate in Canada who is stopping over that night
(only) in East Lansing on his way to the west coast. It is a long

time since we have seen each other and we are not likely to see each
other again for some time. Our friendship is a meaningful one and one
that we both prize. I ask him to visit us and stay with us overnight
(forgetting my earlier commitment to my daughter). I have thus made
two commitments, both of a serious nature, but which conflict. What
should I do? I am aware of the moral principle that promises sincerely
made ought to be kept; and I have made a promise to take my daughter

to the play. If I break the promise I know she will be most upset and

236

disappointed-~though despite this it is still possible she might under-
stand my predicament. I might try to get my wife to take her if she

is free that evening. But she may not be; and in any case my daughter
had been counting on my taking her, not someone else. I could also
suggest that we go to the next children's play that comes; but that
will not be for quite some time and the actors will not be as good

next time. And, anyway, it will be a different play which may not
appeal to my daughter. I could sit down with her, try to explain the
dilemma I am in pointing out to her that sometimes promises sincerely
made have to be broken if other more pressing obligations intervene.
But she might then think that I do not consider her to be important--
that my old friends are more valuable to me than is she. Also I might,
in breaking the promise, be setting a bad example. Will she not be
encouraged to break her promises to others by my example? On the other
side of the situation if I tell my friend not to come for the night
what will he think? Will he be offended and perhaps conclude that

our friendship is no longer of value to me? Or will he understand

and urge me to take my daughter to the play citing as a reason that

it is more important not to disappoint her than him. But then I sus-
pect that, apart from the pleasure of seeing my friend and engaging

him in discussion, he may have information about teaching positions in
Canadian universities. So it might be in the best interests of myself
and my family to visit with my friend and disappoint my daughter.
Further, my friend purposely came yig_East Lansing just to see me and

if I go with my daughter am I not wasting his time and making his

237

detour this way utterly pointless? Perhaps he will say that I am
downright rude. What am I to do?

There is no neat and tidy or straightforward answer to this
question. There is no requisite injunction (a la Hare) which follows
logically from all the facts and considerations that I raise (including
the fact that one ought to keep promising sincerely made). Be that as
it may the principle just cited does help me to focus on the issues
(pro and con) in light of which I will have to make a decision. The
issues that I consider are in some cases purely factual, in others,
conjectural; and still others, valuative; but they are all related
one way or another to two alternative courses of action--either to
break a promise or keep it--between which I must choose. My task
is, in large part, envisaging possible effects of one proposal, then
another and then deciding. This deliberative process is very aptly
described by Dewey (to refer to him once again) who says that "we try

in our mind, some plan. Following its career through various steps

 

we find ourselves in imagination in the presence of the consequences
that would follow; and as we then like to approve, or dislike and

disapprove, these consequences we find the original . . . plan good
or bad. Deliberation is dramatic and active, hence not mathematical

1."13 In this deliberating I am not without

and impersona
moral principles but I am not letting them dictate in advance what I
am to do; for that would surely be an unsatisfactory way of resolving
a difficult issue--unsatisfactory because overlooking many of the

features of the situation. Now had I sought advice about what to do

 

”Ibid., p. 135.

238

here rather than work through the matter on my own I would have
expected my adviser to have gone through a similar reasoning fgpggg.
This would have involved him in eliciting considerable information
from me (as advisee) and while he might not have covered all the con-
siderations I did, I would have expected him to cover a good many of
them given his ability to imagine himself in my position; and finally,
to have arrived at a piece of advice for me. His advice may not be
the same as the decision I come to on my own about what to do in this
matter. This would not mean that he reasoned without the guidance of
relevant moral principles or other considerations but rather that he
assigned differing weights to them than I did--all of which is very
possible in highly complex situations like the one at hand. Of
course since it is advice that I get I am not committed to acting on

it though it is helpful to me in reaching a decision as an advisee.

5.2 The Teacher-Adviser

 

At the close of Section 4.2 in the last chapter I summarized
the main necessary conditions for being in a position to give advice
to another person. These conditions will apply to the moral adviser
as well as to other types of advisers (e.g., economic, medical, legal,
spiritual, etc.). The conditions consist of: (a) facility with the
language; (b) some understanding of the logic of advising; (c) aware-
ness of self and others and respect for others as persons; (d) personal
autonomy--i.e., relative freedom from internal and external con-
straints, relative independence and rationality; (e) experience and

imagination; and (f) an understanding, knowledge or insight into the,

239

domain from which onefls advice is drawn (i.e., knowledge of the sub-
ject of the advice).

It will be recalled from the discussion of Chapter IV that
the egocentric, the authoritarian character and the closed-minded
person all fail to satisfy (c), the condition of awareness and respect
for others as persons. This condition (c) comes very close to what
John Wilson identifies as the component of PHIL in his list of six

moral components.14

Wilson's moral components are a cluster of speci-
fiable attitudes, abilities and attainments in terms of which a person
may be assessed as "morally educated." It is possible, Wilson seems
to think, that by observing how well or badly one does (so to speak)
at PHIL, EMP and the other components, to assign a "moral education
rating" to that person. However my momentary interest in Wilson's
scheme here is with the first component PHIL which is described as an
attitude or frame of mind and is characterized variously as follows:15
regarding other people as equals; thinking that other people's
interests count; looking on other people as human beings with rights;
not thinking that one's own interests are a special case; having a
concern for the interests of others. To the extent a person fails

to recognize the other as a moral and conscious being whose desires,
interests and purposes count as much as his own he cannot satisfy the

component PHIL and what I have been calling condition (c). This con-

dition and component PHIL thus call for those teachers who are also

 

14John Wilson, Moral Education and the Curriculum (A Guide for
Teachers and Research Workers) (Oxford: Pergamon Press, 1969),
pp. 2-9.

15Ibid., p. 2.

240

to be moral advisers to respect their student-advisees as significant
persons whose interests count as much as their own. It seems odd, in
a way, that one should have to stress this point but in fact disre-
spect for students by (some) teachers apparently continues. This
comes about largely for psychological reasons. Teachers are put ig_a
position of authority by virtue of a legal procedure through which
they are hired to do a certain job; but of all those put in a posi-
tion of authority there are some who then become authoritarian in
conduct because of (psychological) disorders of one sort or another.
The authoritarian teacher normally does not hold the respect for the
student that is required by condition (c) and is not therefore in a
position to advise students. Martin Buber's terminology is apposite
here. The teacher who fails to see the student "over there" as a
significant person, as a "thou" not an "it" or a “thing" cannot be

in a position to advise. Fortunately "being in a position of authority“
is not conceptually tied to "being authoritarian"; so it does not fol-
low that all teachers (who are in positions of authority in some sense)
are also authoritarians and hence that no teacher can be in a position
to give advice to a student. It is what a teacher does gftg§_being
placed in a position of authority that either marks him (her) out as
"authoritarian" or as "reasonable." It is possible, of course, that

a student could conceive of all teachers as authoritarian even those
who are not. This arises from a psychological defect on the student-
advisee side, not on the teacher-side. But this does suggest a
precaution. Those teachers who are also advisers should refrain

wherever possible from using authoritarian-type language in advising,

"241

notably the imperative sentence, to avoid creating the impression of
authoritarianism. In other settings where moral advice is given the
use of the imperative sentence is not problematic; but in the context
of the school there are good reasons for the teacher who is also

moral adviser to avoid that linguistic form, using instead the explicit
advising utterance or the subjunctive or one of the other common forms.
(See Section 2.1, Chapter II.)

None of the conditions (a) to (d) when spelled out are of them-
selves sufficient for distinguishing between a moral adviser, a medical
adviser, a legal adviser, and so on. Each of these conditions is the
same for all classes or types of advisers. Conditions (e) and (f)
however differ from the foregoing ones in this respect, namely that
when filled in they ggg sufficient for differentiating between a moral
adviser and these other kinds of advisers. Of course, as stated, (e)
and (f) merely specify that experience (and imagination) and knowledge,
respectively, are required. But once these matters are elucidated
under the heads of (e) and (f) significant differences among the
various types of advisers begin to emerge. In medical advising, for
example, the experience and knowledge that is required differs sub-
stantially from that required for economic advising; and for economic
advising the experience and knowledge required is different again
from that for vocational advising or spiritual advising; and so on.

In essence, medical, legal, vocational, spiritual, etc. advisers
(and their advice) will all be seen to differ from each other in
certain respects and these are primarily associated with conditions

(e) and (f) not with conditions (a) to (d).

242

My concern here is with the moral adviser and in particular the
teacher as moral adviser to secondary school students. What puts
someone, a teacher say, in a position to give moral advice from the

6 How is this condition to be eluci-

point of view of condition (e)?1
dated in the case of the moral adviser? The short answer is that to
satisfy the experiential condition (e), is to have had @9521 experi-
ence. But what then is to count as that? Since I am approaching the
study of advice-giving from essentially a problem-centered orientation
--that is the orientation in which advice is sought by someone in a
problematic situation as, for instance, in moral advising where the
advice-seeker is in a moral dilemma of the kind characterized in the
previous section--I shall take it that the moral experience required

of the adviser is just his own personal experience of being in moral
dilemmas in which he has struggled with difficult moral issues in
reaching some decision about the best thing for him to do. Such
examples of moral experience are to be found in the case of Sartre's
student which I referred to in Section 4.1 and in the case of my
promising my daughter a night at the theatre and my inviting an old
friend passing through East Lansing that same night over for a visit.
These are the situations in which one must have personally immersed
oneself in order to feel the pulls in one direction, then another, and
to have struggled with the problem of weighing up the various considera-

tions for and against the competing or dilemmatic claims of the

situation. There is no substitute for direct moral involvement. To

 

16Though one is in a position to give moral advice it does _
not follow that he should give it. There may be overriding considera-
tions (e.g., it wasn't asked for).

243

flavor the tensions and pulls of a moral dilemma j§_to be in that
situation. If one has never been in such a situation at some point in
his career or past and who has thus not been exposed to the tensions,
frustrations, bewilderments and anguish that are typically associated
with moral dilemmas then I am inclined to think that one cannot
satisfy condition (e); that one will not have had "moral experience."
I want now to temper this conclusion somewhat both by calling
for the role of imagination in moral experience and by broadening the
interpretation of "moral experience." It seems plausible to say that
one could at least try to imagine what it would be like to be in a
moral dilemmatic situation. But what would one have to do to imagine
it short of actually having experienced a moral dilemma in which case
imagination here would likely be unnecessary? A component of moral
experience which I have not yet made sufficiently explicit, and which
will help insofar as specifying the role of imagination is concerned
here, is that of having awareness of or being able to sense the feel-
ings of the other person(s) inevitably involved in one's moral
dilemma. Moral experience is incomplete to the extent that the agent
in a moral dilemma is unable to predict how the consequences of the
various alternative actions open to him will likely affect the others
involved--to know, in other words, what people will feel as a result
of his doing this or that in resolving his dilemma. Moral experience
then is in a large part an experience of feeling--feeling the various
pulls and tensions of the moral dilemma as well as being aware of
how others will be affected by one resolution to a dilemma rather than

another. To refer once again to Wilson's work, the moral component of

244

his which most closely relates to the point under study here is what
he calls EMP--"an ability to know what other people are feeling, in
particular situations"; or "an awareness of other people's feeling,"

"'7 Now

or "the ability to understand what people's interests are.
an important conceptual point here is that awareness of other people's
feelings is tied up with the awareness of one's own feelings. As
Wilson has elsewhere noted: "By suppressing or failing to be aware of
our own feelings, we distort our perception of other people . . . .
Because we keep some of our feelings out of our consciousness, we
limit the range of feelings which we are aware of, and hence are
unable to recognize them in other people."18
Two important consequences follow for the condition (e),
moral experience; one is relative to moral experience of a direct kind,
of actually being in a situation, and the other, to experience of what
I call an indirect kind and which is tied to the notion of imagination.
If moral experience is in a large measure an experience of feeling as
I claim, and if Wilson is correct in stating that awareness of the
feelings of others is conceptually (and in practice) tied to the
awareness of one's own feelings then any non-moral experience by
which one becomes increasingly aware of one's own feelings is surely
relevant to satisfying condition (e) for the case of the moral adviser.

For example, if by having certain aesthetic experiences I become more

aware of my own feelings both in terms of their intensity and range

 

17Wilson, Moral Educationand the Curriculum, pp. 3-4.

18John Wilson, Norman Williams, and Barry Sugarman, Introduc-
_tion to Moral Education (London: Penguin Books, 1967), p. 87.

245

then I can say I am better able to recognize these feelings in other
people. And since being able to recognize feelings in others is
part of moral experience which counts as satisfying condition (e) if
aesthetic experiences enable me to have this kind of recognition
then aesthetic experiences, at least partially, can also be said to
meet condition (e). Even if I have never had a moral experience of
the kind described earlier, or being directly caught up in a moral
dilemma and working through it, but have had appropriate aesthetic
experiences then it would be wrong to say that I could not meet at least
some of the requirements of (e). Further, other experiences such as
to be had by (say) attendance at sensitivity training sessions would
also count (presumably) towards meeting condition (e). Thus direct
non-moral experiences of a kind that increases one's awareness of one's
feelings are relevant to having experiences of a kind that help put
one in a position to give moral advice. So in fact it turns out that
to restrict (e) to just "moral" experience is unjustified given the
variety of situations (moral and non-moral) in which we can become
aware of the feelings of others by increasing the awareness of our own.
But suppose that a teacher has neither had direct moral
experiences of the kind indicated nor attended sensitivity training
sessions. Does this mean the teacher could not be in a position to
give moral advice because of a failure to satisfy condition (e)? It
is not clear that in order to become more aware of one's feelings
that one must have direct social interaction with other persons though
this is doubtless a desirable mode of doing so. Surely I can have

aesthetic experiences the objects of which are inanimate—-for example,

246

a painting, or a sculpting--in which I become increasingly aware of
my feelings. Further, by reading certain novelists, say Tolstoy,
Dostoevsky, Sartre and others--whose characters sometimes get caught
up in moral dilemmas and problems--and by using my imagination I
should be able to conceive of what it would be like to be in the
position of one of these characters. That is, given a skillful
novelist (one who with insight is able to portray in vivid terms the
feelings of his characters that are caught up in situations of moral
conflict) and some imagination on the reader's part, the latter by
imaginatively "interacting" with these characters on a feeling level,
should be able to claim for himself some moral experience even if it
be of an indirect kind. Putting oneself "into a novel" is not exactly
like being in an actual moral dilemma; but it is an approximation of
sorts. And if one as reader can stay with the character in the novel
while the latter experiences the anguish of the situation and works
it through to some resolution, the former (i.e., the reader) will be
said, justifiably, to have at least limited moral experience. These
indirect experiences which I am discussing here and which almost
wholly turn on the type of novelist one reads and one's imaginative
powers will perhaps not be as maturing as are moral experiences of a
direct kind; yet for those who have not had the latter but only the
former, that fact should not necessarily count against their being in
a position to give moral advice. This account, by the way, seems to
suggest that teachers of English literature and perhaps the fine arts
are'hia slightly better position gua_teacher to give moral advice to

students than are teachers of other disciplines--"better" in the sense

247

of having had a sustained exposure to literature or "the world of

20 that a

imagination" as Northrop Frye refers to it.19 Frye claims
study of literature produces tolerance in one through "detachment in
imagination" (where things are removed just out of reach of belief
and action) which literature helps to give one. Literature enables
us to detach ourselves from our own immediate points of view to see
(imagine) the points of views of others as real possibilities. Frye
concedes however that this detachment can be got from "history and
philosophy and science and everything else worth studying"--though
literature does have its own peculiar or special contribution to make.
However, I do not wish to press my claim about the teacher of litera-
ture as moral adviser too far; for there are other conditions for the
moral adviser to satisfy and, moreover, being a teacher of history,
mathematics or science, etc. does not preclude one from sustained
exposure to literature nor from having a developed imagination.

I have broadened the ways in which (e) can now be satisfied——
e.g., by direct moral experience, by direct non-moral experiences that
heighten one's awareness of oneself, and by imagination. But it
seems that my interpretation of "direct moral experience" is too
restrictive. I doubt that "direct moral experience" can justifiably
be interpreted only as "experiences in moral dilemmas." For there are
many experiences we would want to call "moral" but which are had out-

side a dilemmatic situation. My helping another person in distress or

 

19Northrop Frye, The Educated Imagination (Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, l964), p. 77.

20

 

Ibid., Pp. 71-78.

248

who is incapacitated when I am in a position to do so and when no con-
flict is involved would surely count as a moral experience. I suppose
given a relatively normal upbringing most people have had moral experi-
ences at one time or another (in this broader sense). In this broader
sense then condition (e) is not a particularly selective condition so
far as moral advising is concerned. Many people can satisfy it--
many more than could satisfy (e) in the domain of legal advising or
medical advising where rather specialized experiences would be called
for. Nonetheless the difference (in part) between a good moral
adviser and a poor moral adviser will turn on how well each satisfies
(e); and that will be a function of many things such as the extent to
which one reflects on one's experiences, the range of the experiences,
the imagination and the insight one develops into how other people
feel.

I turn now to condition (f), the knowledge condition. I
shall interpret “knowledge” in a relatively non-rigorous way to include
propositional knowledge (knowing that_something is the case or having
information), skills (knowing h9w_to do something) and insights [thus
tying condition (f) to condition (e)]. What the medical and legal
adviser needs to know is rather more easily specified than is the
knowledge requirement for the moral adviser. Evidently the medical
adviser requires a knowledge of a variety of medical subjects such as
anatomy, physiology, pharmacology and so on; the legal adviser a
knowledge of the laws of one's society, of the functioning of the
courts, of the nature of wills, contracts, etc. In these cases then

there are fairly substantial and specifiable amounts of information '

249

and skills to be mastered in order that condition (f), for medical

and legal advising, be satisfied. It is with less certainty that one
specifies the knowledge requirements for moral advisers. As a

minimal start it seems that a moral adviser would have to know the
general moral principles, duties and obligations which are normally
upheld as well as the social customs and conventions that obtain. He
would have to know, generally speaking, thgt_it is wrong to kill or
harm another person, to cheat, steal, lie, break promises, etc.; and
conversely that it is right, generally speaking, to preserve life, to
be honest, to keep one's word, to help others less fortunate than
oneself, to respect others, and so on. The moral adviser would
further have to know h9w_to reason, calculate or judge when exceptions
to these moral principles and obligations are warranted. To expand
somewhat on these knowledge claims the moral adviser would have to
know (i) what moral principles seem to apply (are relevant) in the
case of a given moral dilemma, (ii) what facts or considerations of both
moral and non-moral kinds are pertinent to resolving the dilemna one
way or the other, and (iii) which facts carry the greater weight on
balance, and hence which principle is to be violated or contravened and
which principle to be upheld. Further he would have to know that

(iv) unlike scientific principles, moral principles can be violated
(admit of exceptions) without their having to be cast off--that a
moral principle which is contravened in one situation may be upheld in
another. Also the moral adviser would have to know that (v) moral
principles are guides to action not fixed and rigorous injunctions to

do one thing rather than another; and thence that (vi) lacking the

250

certainty they do they are not suited to function as major premises

in deductive arguments. In other words the adviser would have to know
that reasoning in moral advising does not follow the pattern of
logical deduction but is rather more analogous to judicial reasoning
where the evidence on both sides is somewhat inconclusive. Thence

the moral adviser would have to know (vii) that decisions to help
resolve an advisee's moral problem or dilemma are typically "untidy"
and lacking the finality they might otherwise have. Finally, (viii)
the moral adviser would have to know what counts as stealing, lying,
killing, promise-breaking, or keeping, being honest, and so on in
order to know what additional factors to take into consideration.

That is, he would have to know the descriptions of these and other moral
notions--or at least some of the criteria involved. As John Hospers
has shown, a vagueness commonly pervades these crucial moral terms

and that it is not always clear whether a certain action nominally
classed as "stealing" (or "killing," "lying," etc.) really is an act

2l "ExaCtly when is one lying?" is a reasonable question

of stealing.
to ask. Even though a moral adviser may not be able to give a full
descriptive account of “lying" he should at least be able to persevere
in a given moral problem to get clearer as to whether or not the
advisee actually is facing, as one of his alternatives to action,

lying, or whether he has actually been engaged in lying.

 

2lJohn Hospers, Human Conduct (An Introduction to the Problems
of Ethics) (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., l961),
pp. l2-l5.

 

251

If one were to classify the foregoing eight items of knowledge
as propositional, skills, or insights, I think the classification
would probably come out as follows. Since, by the nature of the case,
it is not possible to have advanced knowledge of the specific princi-
ples that will pertain to an advisee's moral problem, nor to know,

a priori whether (or what) exceptions will be warranted and hence
precisely what considerations, pro and con, will be pertinent in sug-
gesting a resolution to the advisee, I am inclined to think that
items (i) to (iii) are more appropriately classed as "skills" rather
than as "information" or "facts"--though, to be sure, they presuppose
knowing thgt_the moral principles state such and such actions are
right (or wrong). But basically items (i) to (iii) seem to be a
matter of having mastered certain skills or perhaps having developed
certain dispositions (and possibly insights) in respect of handling
dilemmatic situations in which another person is involved (and who
seeks advice). It is in short a question of knowing how and when to
apply moral principles and of knowing how to justify exceptions to
principles. Items (iv) to (vii) on the other hand seem to me to be
items of propositional knowledge rather than skills. Of course I am
here presupposing the validity of a certain conception of "moral
principle" as outlined in the previous section of this chapter.

Given that conception however it seems that these particular items in
question are items of "knowing that." Finally, item (viii), it

seems to me, is ubiquitous. It partakes of all three classes of
knowing which I am appealing to in this discussion. We simply do not

have adequate descriptions of all the main moral notions such that we

252

could know without an examination of the features of a situation,
whether a case of lying or promise-keeping, etc. is actually involved.
Skills, insight, and information are all required for (viii).22
Thus to be a moral adviser the teacher would require the sorts
of knowledge (facts, skills, insights) as briefly indicated above,
thereby satisfying condition (f), the knowledge provision. Is this
a reasonable requirement to expect at least some teachers to satisfy,
or not? It looks unreasonable but that, I think, is largely an illu-
sion. Unlike the medical and legal advisers who need substantial
amounts of specialized training at advanced levels, it is not at all
clear what would even count as specialized training for a moral
adviser, or where one would go to get it. Insofar as knowing the
general moral principles, the obligations and duties and the social
conventions of one's community are concerned no specialized training
is required. Most people, given a relatively decent upbringing, just
know these things. They are the knowledge-products of normal family
life and extra-family social interaction. No one could claim to be a
moral expert in the sense of having a special mastery of the general
moral principles. Does this mean then that almost anyone can (or
should) give moral advice? If "yes" why then should I single out

the teacher as a (possible) special agent in this respect? What has

 

22To continue the analogy with Wilson's moral components,
the above specification for my condition (f) resembles the component
called GIG. This component which is classed as an "attainment" has
two parts, namely, the "hard" facts relevant to a moral situation
(knowledge of laws, rules, conventions, of the human body, etc.) and
social skills or know—how or an adeptness rather than a cognitive
mastery. See Wilson, Moral Education and the Curriculum, pp. 4-6.

253

the secondary school teacher presumably got that the rest of us do
not have? Clearly, the answer to my first question here is "no"; and
to my last question "nothing," at least insofar as knowing the general
moral principles, obligations and conventions of society are con-
cerned. Earlier I suggested that the teacher of literature and of
the fine arts might have an "edge” over other candidates for the role
of themoral adviser in that by virtue of the training in their own
disciplines they may have a more developed imagination and a greater
awareness of feelings (both their own and others). I hesitated to
push that claim too far (after all it is largely an empirical claim)
though I believe it to be a plausible one. I am now further inclined
to think that a more general factor is at work here in the case of
the secondary school teacher that might enable this person to satisfy
condition (f) more effectively than others. This factor is related
to the rigors of being initiated into one or more of the academic
disciplines in which the secondary school teacher gives instruction
and certain resultant dispositions, suited to problem-solving. I am
not claiming that the secondary school teacher by virtue of his (her)
academic training has special insights into the moral problems of
another and is therefore in a better position to offer moral advice.
My claim is that as a result of being exposed to the academic disci-
plines (whether it be literature, history, geography, science,
mathematics or whatever) and having to work through problems in those
disciplines to some conclusion, of having to engage in analysis of
situations, of appealing to various facts and considerations and

dealing with questions of relevance of these in reaching solutions to

254

problems, that certain dispositions and skills are developed which
are also essential to tackling moral problems equally if not more

23 To be

complex than those studied in the academic disciplines.
sure, solving problems in history differs from solving problems in
literature, mathematics or science but all problem—solving requires
certain disciplined moves which desirably develop into "ways of doing
things." These dispositions might simply be labeled as “perseverance,"
"staying power,“ "attending to facts," "control of emotions," "clear-
ness of thinking," "seeing a problem through to some conclusion," and
so on. If such dispositions or skills can be developed by a study of
and training in the academic disciplines (normally found on the high
school curriculum) then it seems to me that the secondary school
teacher, because of this training is, in principle, in a good position
to be a moral adviser (provided the other conditions I have outlined
are satisfied). So there may be a stronger case for claiming that
the teacher has an "edge" over the rest of us in being in a position
to give moral advice.24
I trust I have not created the impression that all secondary
school teachers gua_teacher are in a position to give moral advice to
students. That would be to overlook too much of what I have already

said. Though a teacher has been exposed or initiated into the academic

disciplines it does not necessarily follow that he (she) is good at

 

23I am not advocating that teachers-in-training should master
problems in an academic discipline in order to be good at giving moral
advice, but simply that they learn how to solve these problems as
problems in their own right.

24For possible counterclaims, see Conclusions.

255

problem-solving or has develOped the dispositions just mentioned.
Further, as I indicated earlier, the teacher could be authoritarian
and lacking respect for students. It is also possible the teacher
could fail on some of the other necessary conditions for being in a
position to advise such as lacking imagination or being indifferent
to and callous towards the feelings of others or lacking ability in
predicting consequences of another person's actions, or even lacking
facility with the language! There are many ways in which a teacher,
like anyone else, may fail to satisfy the specified conditions. Fur-
ther, it could be that the teacher adheres to a moral position or
theory which is "incompatible" with the giving of moral advice. If a
teacher for example were an ethical egoist he would not normally be
in a position to give moral advice to another (see Section 4.2).
There are some kinds of intuitionism which I think can be shown to be
incompatible with moral advising principally that kind which takes
"ought" as the fundamental and indefinable moral notion. If such an
intuitionist tried to be a moral adviser he would have to deny that
there are reasons for advising another that he ought to do this
rather than that. Such a position, however, is logically inconsistent
with the notion of advising as I have shown in Section 3.l. Further,
I have doubts that certain aspects of emotivism (see p. 224) could be
compatible with advising; and since at various points in this study

I have criticized R. M. Hare, the leading prescriptivist, I have
doubts that parts of that position are compatible either. These
claims I make here are undeniably bald and hurried though I think

they are sound in the main. To show that they are sound would be a

256

major task in itself and one I shall not undertake here preferring
instead to leave that to a study at a later time. I raise these
points about the incompatibility of certain moral positions with

the giving of moral advice to indicate another way in which a school
teacher (or anyone else) could fail to be in a position of moral
adviser. I thus shall tentatively assert here that a further necessary
condition for being in a position of m9:gl_adviser is that the moral
views of the adviser not be incompatible or inconsistent with the
logical structure of advice-giving. If school principals ever reach
a point where they assign the function of moral advising to some of
their teachers, they should do so with cognizance of the moral views
and beliefs of the teachers in question; else they may find either
that moral advising is not being done or something else is (like
moral persuasion, commanding or goading).

In my view, the person in the school who should give moral
advice if anyone gives it, is the classroom teacher rather than the
school principal or the guidance counselor. The principal is “the"
authority figure of the school thus placing him in an unlikely posi-
tion to give moral advice. Moreover, the principal does not have the
opportunity to interact on a regular and constant basis with students
as does the classroom teacher and is thus not in as good a position
to be aware of their feelings, interests, thoughts, etc. This is also
the case, to a large extent, with the guidance counselor who normally
sees students in his office on scheduled (and hence formal) visits
only. Further, if the counselor is of the non-directive persuasion

he (she) will not see it as part of his function ever to advise a

257

student and therefore would not give advice. It would be odd to
place a person in a position of moral adviser who by virtue of his

25 The clear edge which the

professional role would not give advice.
classroom teacher has over these other school personnel in respect of
being in a position to give moral advice derives not only from the
nature of the academic training but from (i) the teacher's regular
interaction with students in the classroom which enables him (her) to
become aware of "where they are at" aflg_(ii) their being able
regularly to observe the teacher to know "where hg_(she) is at"--the
latter, equally as important as the former. The teacher who is
judged or observed by students to be intolerant of their views, who
is easily offended, short-tempered, prejudiced, or plays favorites
will not have the respect of students and will thus not be seen as a
person from whom a student would want to get moral advice. It

seems to me that to be accepted as a moral adviser by the students
the teacher would have to be: open and approachable, fair-minded,
understanding, willing to set an example of sacrificing expediency
for morality in both his own life and in what he suggests others do
(i.e., willing to cast aside living by a double standard--one for
himself, another for his students) and certainly respected for his
knowledge of his subject and ability to teach it. I am rather hesi-
tant to say these latter conditions are also necessary for a teacher's
being in a position to give moral advice to a student, but they would

certainly help differentiate between a good adviser and a poor one in

 

25See my discussion in Section 2.3, Chapter II, on the dif-
ferences between advising and counseling.

258

the school context. While I doubt very much that every secondary school
teacher is so suited to give moral advice I believe that in every

secondary school some teachers are.

5.3 The Student-Advisee

 

At the close of Section 4.3 I summarized the conditions that
are satisfied by one who is in a position to be advised. A number of
these conditions were identical with those for the adviser to satisfy,
such as: having facility with the language and being able to communi—
cate; paying heed or attention to what another person says to one;
awareness of self and others. I claimed there are other conditions
which one gga_adviser has to meet though the advisee does not, and in
light of which the latter is eminently placed to receive advice--
conditions like having appropriate experiences, imagination and
knowledge or understanding. Normally it is a deficiency in these
respects that helps put one in a good position to be advised. There
are also some conditions which an advisee can meet but which an
adviser cannot, such as being an egoist or lacking concern for others.
I noted however that these latter claims respecting advisee conditions
were made with the receiving of non-moral advice in mind and that
certain modifications to these may be required in the receiving of moral
advice. Finally, I spent some time on developing two further advisee-
conditions namely (l) the necessity of one gug_advisee being relatively
or sufficiently free to make choices as between alternative views and
courses of action and (2) being able to grasp the notion of reasons
for doing one thing rather than another. Condition (l) is essential.

to help maintain the conceptual distinction between an adviser's

259

saying "I advise you to do" and the advisee's choosing either to
assent to, dissent from, or modify the advice. Such an activity on
the part of the advisee presupposes some ability in reflecting and
deliberating on what an adviser says to him and of being relatively
independent of social constraints such as group pressures to conform
or of the authoritarian demands of some other individual. In summing
up I claimed that this account of advisee conditions was not pitched
too high by appealing to the results of developmental psychology
which show that, in the main, by about age ll there has been sufficient
cognitive growth in individuals to enable them to perform the fore-
going operations, even if in a rudimentary way. Condition (2) is
essential because advising is a rational activity. In asking for a
piece of advice one is asking, in part, for reasons in support of the
advice. It is part of the advisee's role to demand reasons for the
advice given. An advisee then needs to differentiate to some extent
between good and bad reasons for doing something.

With this review in mind I turn to the secondary school stu-
dent as an advisee--a receiver of moral advice in particular. Since
secondary school students are of age range l3-l8 years on average and
since many of them will have mastered at least some of the formal
operations (outlined in Section 4.3) by this age they should be in a
position to be receivers of advice. But are they capable of receiving
mgral_advice? Is their moral development at a corresponding requisite
level? What level(s) in fact would that be? Cognitive development
alone is not a sufficient condition for moral development; so we cannot

assume that because a student is cognitively developed that he (she)'

260

is also morally developed to a point where he (she) can receive moral
advice. Take condition 2 (last paragraph) as an example. Although

a student, let us say, knows that advice has the backing of reasons
and although he knows how to ask for reasons and can usually distinguish
between good and bad reasons, it does not necessarily follow that he
can distinguish between moral and non-moral reasons. For him, it
could be that all reasons for his doing something are of a strictly
prudential kind and that within that class some reasons he sees to

be better than others. But unless he understands that moral considera-
tions can also be good reasons for his doing something he could not
be in a position to be advised morally. His moral reasoning is not
sufficiently developed. So although a student can receive non-moral
advice it does not necessarily follow he can also receive moral
advice. In this section I shall examine the stages of moral develop-
ment which have been shown to pertain typically to the secondary
school age range and I shall indicate which stages of development
seem to be adequate for a person's being able to receive moral advice.
If a student is at a stage of moral development which is below the
level required for the moral advising of another, or which (by virtue
of its structure) is incompatible with the logic of advising then
presumably it is pointless to try to give moral advice to such a
student. In developing this section I shall rely heavily on the work
of Lawrence Kohlberg not because it is free of difficulties but
because it is probably more fully worked out than other similar
theories. Also it indicates the different kinds of moral reasons

that are understood by persons at the different stages of moral

261

thinking thus making the theory suitable for discussion in the context
of moral advising.

Kohlberg proceeds by presenting examples of hypothetical moral
dilemmas to his subjects ranging in age from seven years to late
twenties. In one of his standard dilemmas Heinz's wife is dying of a
rare form of cancer. A new drug has recently been developed which
the doctors think might save Heinz's wife. But the drug is scarce
and the local druggist who developed it increases the price of the
drug tenfold, from $200 to $2,000. Heinz doesn't have that amount
of money. He is able to raise or borrow only $l,000. He pleads with
the druggist to sell the drug at a reduced rate but the druggist
refuses. In desperation Heinz breaks into the store and steals the
drug for his wife. Kohlberg asks his subjects: (a) Should the
husband have done that? (b) Why? In response to (a) the subjects
express moral judgments about the propriety of Heinz's action; and in
response to (b) they give their reasons for their particular judg-
ments. Now Kohlberg apparently is primarily concerned with describing
the ways in which his various subjects reason or think in reaching a
moral judgment--the thought processes they engage, and the concepts
they employ in looking at a problem--and it is his belief that the
key to understanding how various people think about morality resides
in analyzing the replies to (b), not to (a). The moral judgments
that are given in response to (a) are important for their content;
but the reasons given in response to (b) are important for what they
reveal about the structure of the human mind at various levels of

development and it is on these latter responses that Kohlberg focuses

262

his greatest attention. So the apparent distinction between content
[given by replies to (a)] and form or structure [discovered in replies
to (b)] is crucial for Kohlberg's theory of moral development though
it is clear, I think, that he himself does not always uphold that
distinction. Nonetheless his objective, one might say, is to describe
the Operations of thinking that occur when the mind confronts hypo-
thetical moral dilemmas. A young child (say age seven) might claim
that Heinz did the wrong thing because he will be put in jail for
stealing. A slightly older child might say that Heinz did the right
thing because people will spurn him if he lets his wife die. Still
another person might claim that Heinz did the right thing because
it is his duty as a husband to help save his wife's life whatever
the cost.

The various reasons, Kohlberg would say, are manifestations
of different ways of thinking about or looking at a part of the world.
Some of these ways are more sophisticated or mature than are other
ways as (in a sense) is the third reason given above more sophisticated
than the first. By analyzing a host of responses given by his sub-
jects in a variety of cultures and across a number of socio-economic
levels within a culture, Kohlberg has constructed a theory of moral
development which is descriptive of six essentially different modes
of "moral" thinking. Each way of thinking is called a "stage."
Thus there are, according to Kohlberg, six stages in moral development
comprising three levels (2 stages per level). These levels are char-
acterized as: (I) Pre-moral, consisting of stages 1 and 2; (11) Con-

ventional, consisting of stages 3 and 4; and (III) Post Conventional'

263

or Principled, consisting of stages 5 and 6. Since I shall not be
concerned with all the six stages in my discussion of the moral
advisee I shall withhold describing the relevant stages until later--
simply noting for the moment that stage l shall not figure in my '
discussion. Stage l which is characterized as "obedience and punish-
ment orientation" and "egocentric deference to superior power and
prestige" is essentially Piaget's phenomenon of childhood egocentrism.
Anyone who conceives of the world from this point of view cannot be in
a position to receive advice--moral or otherwise--as I have shown in
Section 4.3 of the last chapter.

Two important assumptions underlie Kohlberg's theory, namely
(l) that moral development has a cognitive core, and (2) that the
origin of morality is "interactional." By (l) he means (roughly)
that cognitive maturity is a necessary but not sufficient condition for
moral maturity. "All morally advanced children are bright but not
all bright children are morally advanced."26 Moral maturity requires
cognitive maturity or intelligence but it also requires more than
that. By (2) Kohlberg means that the "moral stages represent the
interaction between the child's structuring tendencies and the struc-
tural features of the environment."27 0f importance here is the
social environment--an environment that provides opportunities for

social participation and role-taking. 0n the basis of his research

 

26Lawrence Kohlberg, "Stages of Moral Development as a Basis
for Moral Education," in Moral Education, ed. by C. M. Beck, B. S.
Crittenden, and E. V. Sullivan (New York: Newman Press, l97l),
p. 45.

 

27Ibid., p. 49.

264

Kohlberg claims that such opportunities affect the rate and terminus
of moral development, i.e., that social interaction and role-taking
stimulate moral development. Thus "children with extensive peer-group
participation advance considerably more quickly through the Kohlberg
stages . . . than do children who are isolated from such participa-

tion.“28

But while participation in peer groups is important, moral
development further requires participation in "structures of the
social environment“ in the form of making decisions in the running
of the family, the school, the government, and so on. These struc-
tures are universal or transcultural since "all societies we have
studied have the same basic institutions: family, economy, social

t."29 Just as there are "universal

stratification, law, and governmen
structures of physical environment basic to 'pure' cognitive develop-
ment" so also are there "universal structures of the social environment

30 This will also partially explain

. . basic to moral development."
why there is a universal invariant sequence of development through the
Kohlberg stages.

Kohlberg claims that if we were to take a concept like the
moral worth of human life and examine how various people think about
it or view the value of life we would find that in stage l thinking
only the lives of important people are seen to be valuable; that in

stage 3, the lives of family members valuable and in stage 6 thinking

all life is seen to be of equal moral value. In passing from stage to

 

231bid., p. 83.

291bid., p. 51.
301bid., p. 50.

265

stage there is evidence of an increasing moral maturity in thinking
and in looking at certain aspects of the world and at stage 6, the
level of thinking, Kohlberg says, is “fully moral.“3] Thus the
general direction of maturity in moral thinking is a direction of
greater morality. The higher stages of thinking are more moral than
the lower stages. "We do not mean by this that a more mature judgment
is more moral in the sense of showing closer conformity to the conven-
tional standards of a given community. We mean that a more mature
judgment more closely corresponds to genuine moral judgments as these
have been defined by phil050phers . . . most philosophers (agreeing)
upon the characteristics that make a judgment a genuine moral judg-

32 It turns out that by "most philosophers" Kohlberg means

ment."
those formalists like Kant and Hare (particularly the latter) who
claim that what makes a judgment a moral judgment is its satisfying
the criteria of universality, prescriptiveness and overridingness.
Thus for Kohlberg "genuine moral judgments" are universalizable
prescriptions; and the person who makes genuine moral judgments is
morally mature (or fully moral) in his thinking; he is at stage 6.

In making a judgment at stage 6 the person both commits himself to the
judgment and to the view that the judgment applies to all_persons in
similar situations. The person who makes judgments strictly from his

own point of view (e.g., by asking what effects his actions will have

for him only) is much less morally mature, or morally immature in his

 

31

32Lawrence Kohlberg, "Moral Education in the Schools: A
Developmental View," The School Review, Vol. 47, No. l (Spring, l966),
p. 2l.

Ibid., p. 54.

266

thinking. To use Kohlberg's terminology, this person's judgment
would lack "differentiation" and "integration"--the formal criteria
corresponding to prescriptivity and universality respectively, which
define "all mature structures." Mature ways of looking at moral prob-

33 Since these

lems are the ways that satisfy these formal criteria.
criteria are presumed to be devoid of content we might say that for
Kohlberg, the thinking that is characteristic of the lower stages,
i.e., the less morally mature thinking, is that in which matters of
content of a prudential or social kind enters. Thus his “detailed
coding of categories of moral judgment" lists the following: (a) pru-
dence, (b) welfare of others, (c) respect for authority, (d) respect

34 We will see that these correspond

for persons, and (e) justice.
respectively to stages 2 through 6. Judgments that reflect a point

of view represented by any of (a) to (d) are less than fully moral
because not void of content. They fail to take on the character of a
principled judgment. Only justice at stage 6 takes on that character--
that is “Becomes something . . . obligatory, categorical and (that) takes

precedence over law and other considerations including welfare."35

 

33The equating of "mature moral thinking (or mature moral
judgment)" to "thinking prescriptively and universalizably (or judg-
ment that is a universalizable prescription)" is surely one of the
least defensible parts of Kohlberg's theory. That moral philos0phers
have been intensely debating what makes a judgment a moral judgment
to inconclusive ends seems to have been completely overlooked by
Kohlberg. His explicit use of Hare's formal criteria is his clear
preference for one analysis of "moral judgment" over another with
little justification being offered for his choice--save that Hare's
criteria are presumably void of content.

34Kohlberg, "Stages of Moral Development," p. 59.

351bid., p. 65.

267

Moving through the Kohlberg stages of moral thinking (or
development) then is less a matter of adding increasingly difficult
content to be mastered than it is a matter of "internal cognitive
reorganization." Passing to a next higher stage involves a substan-
tial shift in the way one thinks about moral problems. It is a
conceptual revolution of sorts; but the passage is also evolutionary
because it builds on prior stages. "Each step of development . . .
is a better cognitive organization than the one before it, one which
takes account of everything present in the previous stage, but making
new distinctions and organizing them into a more comprehensive or

"36 To take the concept of human life

more equilibrated structure.
again when one shifts to a higher stage "the value of life becomes
more differentiated from the value of property, more integrated (the
value of life enters an organizational hierarchy where it is 'higher'
than property so that one steals property in order to save life) and
more universalized (the life of any sentient being is valuable regard-
less of status or property)."37 So one sees the value of life
differently and more maturely at a higher stage than at a lower stage.
These changes in thinking about values and moral problems do not come
in radical and sudden shifts from one conceptual structure to an

entirely new one. Kohlberg reminds us over and over that progression

through the stages is sequentially invariant. It is not possible to

 

36Lawrence Kohlberg and Carol Gilligan, "The Adolescent as a
Philosopher: The Discovery of the Self in a Postconventional World,"
Daedalus (Fall, l97l), p. l069.

Ibid.

 

268

get to stage 3 yja_stage 5; nor to stage 5 by skipping stage 4. Each
stage has to be passed through in order. To be at stage 3 is to have
passed through stages l and 2 in sequence (no more, no less). To be
sure, different people pass through the stages at differing rates and
stop (in their development) at different levels, but all persons in
their development (irrespective of cultural, socio-economic and
religious background) follow the same sequence. So according to
Kohlberg the stages are not only sequentially invariant but culturally
too. Further it is (apparently) not possible to regress from a higher
stage to a lower stage (though I understand Kohlberg was at one point
puzzled by a seeming regression in the moral reasoning of freshman
college students). If my development in moral thinking halts at

stage 4 (as many people's do) I can at least take comfort in the fact
that it will not decline to less mature levels. Cessation of a forward
movement through higher stages does not entail initiation of a backward
movement through lower stages. Finally, no person, says Kohlberg, is
wholly in any one stage of development. If I am said to be a stage

4 what that means is that my major stage is 4 (a majority of my ideas
are commensurate with stage 4 thinking) but that I am also partly in
the stage I have left (stage 3) and partly in the stage into which I
am moving (stage 5).

While the Kohlberg stages are more than age-related a fairly
definite age pattern does emerge in connection with them. "The
transition from preconventional to conventional morality generally
occurs during the late elementary school years. The shift in ado-

lescence from concrete to formal operations . . . constitutes the

269

necessary precondition for the transition from conventional to prin-
cipled moral reasoning. It is in adolescence, then, that (one) has
the cognitive capability for moving from a conventional to a post-
conventional, reflective or philosophic view of values and society."38
From this passage we may infer the following: (i) that a transition
from stage 2 to stage 3 occurs in the main around eleven or twelve
years of age; and (ii) that a transition from stage 4 to stage 5 is
possible, in the main, at some point from about age sixteen onwards.
Thus according to (ii) principled moral thinking would be possible

for (some) secondary school students. However, I am told that Kohlberg
has now revised his views on this second point.39 Apparently he no
longer believes it to be possible for an adolescent to reach the level
of stage 5 thinking and that it is unlikely one could reach that

stage before about age 23 (and stage 6, if at all, before middle or
late twenties). This "realignment" of the stages by Kohlberg has been
explained by the fact that, on his own admission, he failed to dis-
tinguish sufficiently between content and structure in moral reasoning
with the result that a number of the responses to the dilemmatic prob-
lems were given too "high" a rating. The responses were in fact lower
in structural properties than their content seemed to indicate. What
appeared to be principled thinking in adolescence turned out (once

the content-structure problem was "resolved") to be no higher than

 

38Ibid., p. 1073.

39By a fellow doctoral student, John Stewart, who attended a
Kohlberg workshop at Harvard in 1973 and who has discussed the latest
revisions to Kohlberg's theory.

270

40 I also understand that Kohlberg has

stage 4 thinking at most.
introduced finer calibrations into his staging (e.g., a stage 5A and

a SB) and is considering adding a stage 7 which, so far as I can tell,
is a stage “beyond" morality.

I am not aware that Kohlberg has published these revisions so
it is not possible to tell how he actually treats the content-structure
problem here. This problem, of course, cuts to the core of his
developmental theory. It is at the basis (as we have seen) of his
preference for the formalists' criteria as the measure of "mature
moral judgment." Such a conception of mature moral judgment is moot
to say the least; for it presupposes a notion of morality that is far
from being accepted as thg_account of the moral domain. I shall not
pursue these problems that Kohlberg's theory raises here (including
the content-structure issue). Instead I shall examine the stages of
moral development that typically fall within the age range (l3 years
to l8 years) of the secondary school student. My concern is with
whether these stages are of such a structure that will permit the
persons in them to be in a position to be given moral advice. Accord-
ing to Kohlberg's most recent views we may conclude that the stages
of moral thinking for the secondary school student are primarily
stages 3 and 4. By age l3 (or thereabouts) stage 3 thinking will be

predominant and by age l6 or l7 stage 4 thinking will be predominant.

 

40Similarly Kohlberg also explains away the apparent regres-
sion problem (I referred to earlier) with college students. It turns
out that many of them were not at as high a stage as he once thought.
He now believes college students generally are in a transition stage
from 4 to 5 and he is calling this stage ”4-l/2." These people are ,
beyond conventional morality but have not yet developed principled
morality.

27)

In short, according to Kohlberg, the secondary school Student is at
the level of conventional morality, level II (though I suspect that
there are certain amounts of stage 2 thinking that will occur especially
at the lower end of the secondary school age range). How are stages 3
and 4 characterized?

Stage 3 is described as the "good-boy-good-girl orientation.
Good behavior is that which pleases or helps others and is approved
by them. There is much conformity to stereotypical images of what
is majority or 'natural' behavior. Behavior is often judged by inten-
tion-o'he means well' becomes important for the first time and is

overused. One seeks approval by being nice.“41

Stage 3 thinking
conceives of good behavior as that "which pleases or helps others and
is approved by them." Central to this conception of helping others
is that of empathy or role-taking, which Kohlberg claims is a dis-
tinctively human way of structuring thought and action. Thus in
role-taking one reacts "to others as like the self and (reacts) to
the self's behavior from the other's point of view . . . . To under-
stand the development of role-taking we must not only consider the
principle of empathy or 'welfare,' considering the effects of action
upon the others involved, but also the principle of 'justice,' that

42 Thus role-

is of reciprocity and equality in human relations."
taking is by no means a strictly stage 3 conception since it occurs
in other stages, including stage 6 where it apparently embraces

justice. But conceived as sympathy or concern for the welfare of

 

“Ibid., p. l067.

42Kohlberg, "Stages of Moral Development," p. 51.

272

others, role-taking first clearly emerges in stage 3 thinking. (It

is present only to a very limited extent in stage 2.) As a conceptual

ability--the ability to take the other person's place and imagine being
on the receiving end of one's own actions--role-taking is "the precon-

43 Without this capacity,

dition for experiencing a moral conflict."
according to Kohlberg, one would not know when one is in a situation

of moral conflict. To be aware of moral conflicts one must be able

to role-take. I have argued that a sufficient condition for requesting
moral advice is one's being in a situation of moral conflict. Such

a condition presupposes that the agent (advisee) is aware of the con-
flict in which he is caught. ‘Kohlberg's discussion of role—taking
suggests that this awareness is predominant in at least stage 3
thinking; so it seems to follow that a student at stage 3 has the
necessary conceptual apparatus to at least sggk_moral advice from
another. Further it seems that the stage 3 student could also receive
moral advice given his developed concern and sympathy for the welfare
of others. As an advisee he would be able to take into consideration
the effects of his action on the well—being of the third party. He
would know that their interests count. After all he seeks approval

of others by trying to please, to be nice; so the others-regarding
consideration which the moral adviser would doubtless mention would

be meaningful and important to our stage 3 advisee. He would be
disposed normally, to act in such a way that others are helped rather
than hurt even, I suppose, if he himself were temporarily disadvantaged

provided others still approved of his actions. There seems to be then

 

431bid., p. 64.

273

at least three reasons for saying the stage 3 student is in a

position to be morally advised: (a) he is disposed to helping others,
(b) he can role-take or take the position of the third party indicating
concern or sympathy for others, (c) he can recognize situations of
moral conflict.

But how closely is the stage 3 thinking tied to the notion of
winning the approval of others? Suppose one were in a situation like
the young talented artist I discussed earlier. If he were stage 3
could he be sufficiently open-minded to consider an advised course of
action which if followed would (i) disserve the third party, (ii) bring
disapproval on him, but (iii) immensely serve his own well—being
(given the special nature of that case). Kohlberg would say, I
believe, that this example is basically representative of stage 2
thinking and as such would be rejected by a stage 3 person--since it
is customary for a person at a given stage, n, to reject the thinking
of a lower stage, n-l.44 Thus a stage 3 student would not be in a
position to receive moral advice in those situations where the con-
sideration of the welfare of the third party is finally overridden in
the advice given him. The stage 3 person is able only to receive
moral advice of a "straight" kind or advice that if followed will help
others and thereby win him approval. Suppose, however, a stage 3 per-
son is advised to follow a course of action which would be helpful to
the third party but which would not bring him approval. Would the
stage 3 advisee be in a position to give the advice serious considera-

tion knowing that if he followed it others would benefit though his

 

44Ibid., p. 49.’

274

action would not be approved by them? This case is at least logically
possible; and it raises the question as to the extent to which the
stage 3 person is tied to the notion of having his actions approved
by others. Kohlberg further stresses (in stage 3 thinking) conformity
to majority behavior. Of course if one's "majority" is just the gang
to which one belongs then it seems somewhat unlikely that a stage 3
student would be sufficiently free to consider following advice that
runs counter to the group norms and standards. How important is
"conformity" to stage 3 thinking? By all accounts it, along with
"winning approval," seems to be quite important. Stage 3 seems to
make room for the group-centric whose case, relative to being in a
position to receive advice, was ruled out earlier on the grounds of
insufficient independence of group control and pressure. Evidently
then there are certain limitations to the giving of moral advice to a
stage 3 student. The extent of these limitations is difficult to
ascertain with precision at the moment and will remain so until Kohlberg
is able to give us a more complete description of the stage. We need
to know for example just how much freedom and independence a stage 3
thinker has. Can he really be a chooser in the sense required for
one's being an advisee or do notions like conformity and winning
approval override in stage 3 thinking?

Stage 4 thinking is described as follows: "Orientation toward
authority, fixed rules, and the maintenance of the social order. Right
behavior consists of doing one's duty, showing respect for authority,

and maintaining the given social order for its own sake. One earns

275

respect by performing dutifully."45

Unlike the prior stage where

what counts as a moral reason for doing something is "It helps others
and wins you approval," in stage 4 what counts is "It is your duty

and wins you respect." Suppose then that a stage 4 student is uncer-
tain about what his (her) duty is in a certain situation. It seems
that he could be in a position to receive moral advice to the extent
that the advice is a statement of the appropriate duty (as judged by
the adviser) or to the extent that the advice given is backed up by

a reason which states that it is the duty in question. For example

"I advise you to be honest with your parents. After all it is your
duty as their son (daughter) to do so," could be seen by a stage 4
student as meaningful advice, apparently, because it satisfies some

of the conditions descriptive of stage 4 thinking. It appeals to
one's duty as a reason for doing something and as such can figure in
moral advising. But suppose that instead of not knowing what his

duty is in some situation the student is in a position where his duties
are in conflict; or where a duty conflicts with an obligation or

moral principle. It obviously will not do to advise this person by
saying "I advise you to do your duty which is . . ." since the issue
is one of tension between two duties. Moreover role-taking, according
to Kohlberg, cannot resolve the conflict since it is a precondition of
experiencing moral conflicts in the first place. "Where such conflicts
arise, the principles we use to resolve them are principles of jus-

"46 -

tice, 1.e., of equality and reciprocity. In other words moral

 

45Koh1berg, "The Adolescent as a Philosopher," p. 1067.

46Kohlberg, "Stages of Moral Development,“ p. 5l.

276

conflicts are resolved by appealing to stage 6 reasoning. But stage 6
reasoning is two stages above stage 4 reasoning and Kohlberg says that
a person who is at a lower stage is unable to comprehend examples of
moral reasoning more than one stage above his own. So a moral
adviser to a stage 4 student who is caught in a conflict of duties
situation could not give advice (that would help the student resolve
the conflict) that appealed to the principles of justice.

It seems to me that within the context of Kohlberg's theory
of moral development the moral adviser of the stage 4 student has one
final move open to him. He could appeal to something like a "higher
duty." He could say to the advisee "Look, no matter which way you
choose to act you are going to leave undone one of your duties. This
is regrettable, but in the circumstances unavoidable. My advice to you
is that you should perform duty B (thus neglecting duty A) because,
other things considered, I think B really takes precedence over A in
these circumstances." The adviser must then be prepared to give a
justification for his judgment that B takes precedence over A. But at
stage 4 thinking it is not clear to what the adviser would appeal in
justifying his judgment to the advisee. He could hardly justify it by
appealing to a reason commensurate with stage 4 thinking itself such
as "Right behavior consists of doing one's duty." Further it is not
likely that he could justify it by appealing to a stage 3 reason since
(as we have noted) a stage 4 thinker rejects examples of thinking
representative of stages below him. Stage 6 reasoning has been ruled
out leaving but one possibility--appealing to a stage 5 reason as

justification for the advisee's judgment. Will that work? A person'

277

at a given stage, n, can comprehend moral reasoning at one stage
higher, namely n + l; moreover by being exposed to n + l thinking the
person at stage n is (apparently) aided in his moral growth towards
that higher stage. Do stages 4 and 5 stand in the relation of n to

n + l? Formerly they did but with Kohlberg's recent revisions to his
theory it is not at all clear they do now. Evidently the new stage,
called 4-l/2, is inserted between stages 4 and 5 to account for those
whose thinking is beyond the 4th stage but not yet at the 5th stage.
The precise status and nature of this new stage is as yet unclear
(though I am told it can be labeled as a stage of "cynical ethical
relativism") but it is at least conceivable that stage 4-l/2 is part
of the regular development of moral thinking. Thus to get from

stage 4 to stage 5 one would have to go through stage 4-l/2. So it

is at least conceivable that stage 4-l/2 has the effect of placing
stage 5 two stages beyond stage 4 thinking in which case stages 4 and
5 do not stand in the relation of stages n to n + l. Thus stage 5
reasoning would not be comprehended by a stage 4 person and a stage 5
reason could not be used by a moral adviser to a stage 4 advisee. For
those advisees whose moral development is not terminal at stage 4 it
is possible that a few of them could comprehend an example of reasoning
from stage 5, in particular stage SA but not, I would think, from stage

47

SB In all, according to Kohlberg's theory it is not clear what an

 

47Kohlberg divides stage 5 into 5A and SB. The former is char-
acterized (briefly) as a social contract orientation where right action
tends to be defined in terms of standards which have been actually
examined and agreed upon by the whole society. There is emphasis upon
procedural rules for reaching consensus. The latter (SB) is an orienta-
tion to internal decisions of conscience but without clear rational or
universal principles. See "Adolescent as a Philosopher," p. 1067.

278

adviser could appeal to in helping a stage 4 student resolve a con-
flict of duties, which is to say that to be at stage 4 thinking is
not to be in a good position for getting moral advice.

This conclusion is re-enforced, I believe, by the "obedience
and respect for authority and fixed rules" dimension to stage 4 think-
ing. With this conception of the world it is unlikely that a stage 4
student will understand a teacher's "I advise you to do X" as a piece
of advice but rather as an injunction or command to do X. Assuming
that the teacher is seen as a "significant" person in the stage 4's
environment and that the former is in a position of authority then
given the stage 4's law and order orientation it is virtually beyond
question that the student will not be able to take the advice for
what it is--a recommendation to follow one course of action among
possible alternatives. In other words, the stage 4 student, under
these circumstances, will not be able to conceive of himself as being
sufficiently free to dissent from the teacher's advice. The essential
logical distinction between the adviser's "I advise you to do X" and
the advisee's freely choosing either to assent or not is then replaced
by a ggg§j_psychological causal mechanism connecting the stage 4's
obedience to the utterance of the person in authority. It is not
logically possible to advise a person to do something under these
circumstances. And finally, the stage 4's conception of rules as
"fixed" (and exceptionless) is incompatible with the notion of rules
and principles required in moral advising (as I argued in the previous

section of this chapter). Rules (at least moral ones) need to be

279

taken as provisional guides to action not as fixed and rigid injunc-
tions to be upheld in all circumstances.

What then can we conclude about the secondary school student's
being in a position to be given moral advice from the point of view of
that student's stage(s) of moral development? If Kohlberg's theory of
moral development is sound then I believe we can take the following
position. Of the two stages of moral thinking (3 and 4) normally
associated with the secondary school age-range of l3 to l8 years,
only one, namely stage 3, has a structure that enables a student to be
given moral advice--stage 4 thinking on the whole being logically
incompatible with the conception of receiving moral advice from
another. While there are certain limitations (as I indicated) which
stage 3 thinking imposes, normally a student at that stage can be said
to be in a position to receive moral advice whereas a stage 4 student
is not in a position (for reasons just given). These are rather odd
conclusions to come to though I believe they do follow from Kohlberg's
developmental theory and my analysis of advising. They are odd for
these reasons: (a) Presumably vast numbers (i.e. stage 45) are unable
to receive moral advice which seems contrary to common sense. If they
could regress to stage 3 thinking then they would be in a position to-
be advised but according to Kohlberg such regression does not occur.
(b) Of all the stages of development Kohlberg has identified and
described only two, namely stages l and 4, have structures that are
incompatible with moral advising. Even stage 2 thinking with its
predominant egoistic dimension enables a person there to receive at

least limited moral advice--principally that which serves the interests

280

of both the stage 2 advisee and the third party. Furthermore

stage 3 reasons which are good moral reasons, are understood by the
stage 2 person. A student at stage 2 is by no means in a position
where he cannot be given some moral advice. Thus students (and others)
at stages 2, 3, S and 6 are all in a position, in varying ways, to be
given moral advice. Expressed in a way which brings out the oddness
of the situation we may say that normally a student from (roughly) ages
11 to about 15 or 16 is capable of being morally advised; from about
ages 16 to 18 or 19 he is not; from about 19 or 20 on he is (assuming
his development through to at least stage 5). One would have thought
that if a student can receive moral advice at age 13 or 14 he could
surely receive it at age 17 or 18 and indeed be in a better position

to receive it; but according to the work of the present section this
common sense view does not seem to bear scrutiny.

The “culprit" here seems to be stage 4 thinking which resembles
stage 1 thinking in many respects. The presence of stage 4 generates
a gap in what would otherwise be a fairly consistent development in
the moral advisee, in respect of his being able to receive and reflect
on moral advice. This gap could be closed by omitting stage 4. That
however would clearly run counter to Kohlberg's theory of moral
development; hence the following dilemma. We can accept Kohlberg's
present theory but then we are left with the task of furnishing a new
explanation that would close the gap jf_we want to square our views on
giving moral advice with common sense; or we may simply omit stage 4
(asserting that students simply do not enter such a stage in their

moral development after stage 3--thus in effect rejecting Kohlberg's,

281

particular theory) but still adhering to a developmental view in a
general way. Barring further refinement of Kohlberg's work, I favor
the latter route which presents a more consistent picture of the moral
advisee (i.e., which answers more consistently the question "Who can
be given moral advice?"). The development approach however reminds

us that our moral thinking changes at different ages and that we do
not have a fixed moral nature which forever determines the way we
think about moral problems. Evidently a good moral adviser of stu-
dents would want to find out the level of development his (her)

student-advisee is at and use moral reasons appropriate to that level.

CHAPTER VI

CONCLUSION

Though moral advising in the secondary school is possible it
is not likely to be a ubiquitous activity. Only some teachers will
be in a position to give moral advice; and only some students, if
Kohlberg's staging is right, to receive it. The most defensible
circumstances in which moral advice is given by the teacher are
those in which a student seeks it. If the initiative for moral
advising rests with the student it seems to follow that the occasions
for moral advising will not be school assemblies or morning announce-
ments over the public address system where unsolicited moral advice is
offered by the principal to the student body, but rather in the con-
cerns of individual students over actual moral problems and difficulties
which they are facing or see themselves facing, and for which they
desire some assistance. These typically are complex interpersonal
problems involving relations between themselves and their peers or
themselves and adults, moral dilemmas and, not infrequently, feelings
of moral guilt or remorse arising from some past action.

In a recent survey, 4,000 secondary school students (in
England) were questioned on the place of moral education in the
schools. Did they think there should be special classes for moral
evaluation? What topics would they like to see discussed? Why?

The researcher summarized the findings in the following way: "Pupils

282

283

repeatedly pointed out in their replies to many of the questions . . .
that young people need wise and sympathetic guidance about many moral
issues. They certainly do not wish to be told what to do. But they
want help to sort out the issues involved in different moral judgments
so they can arrive at opinions which are balanced, and take action
that is considered sensible . . . . They recognize and acknowledge the
seriousness of the many ideas, topics and situations they would like
to discuss with sympathetic adultzhelp . . . . Many pupils openly
acknowledged their ignorance and puzzlement about these matters.

They recognize the need for standards and are not unaware of the com-
plexity of many moral decisons that they will have to make. They
want assistance to enable them to clarify their thinking as far as

possible."1

I do not wish to confuse moral advising of students with
moral education in the schools (nor even to relate them particularly)
but it does seem to me that the foregoing account presents a good

case for the giving of moral advice to students quite apart from
whatever implications it might also have for a moral education program;
for advising, as I have argued, provides the assistance or guidance in
helping others to reach their own reasonable decisions without the
compulsion. There can be no doubt that many students have concerns
about moral issues. Whether they are also prepared to bring their
concerns forward to the point of getting some moral advice is another,

though related, matter. Probably only very few students will feel

disposed to do so. This is their personal decision. It will be

 

1Philip R. May, Moral Education in School (London: Methuen
Educational Ltd., 1971), pp. 129-30.

 

284

tempered however by a number of factors such as their own development,
the attitudes of teachers and the climate of the school generally.
Conceivably, with improvements in these factors more students might
be disposed to seek moral advice in school, though quite apart from
the numbers involved, moral advising remains a justifiable activity.
This conclusion certainly requires some defense. Moral
activities in the school are by no means beyond the reach of criticism.
Antagonists may direct their attacks on either of two levels--a general
level and a specific level. They may, for example, argue that moral
activities in general have no place in the school at all holding that
the teacher ought to adhere to the business of giving instruction in
the normal range of curricular subjects. To them, the only proper
locale for moral instruction is in the home. On the other hand the
antagonists may specifically cite the activity of giving moral
advice to students as an unwarranted encroachment by the teacher to
influence overtly, persuade or pressure the student into taking a
certain course of action. They may express concern (or fear) that in
giving moral advice the teacher is in fact preaching to or indoctrina-
ting the student--that the former is directly telling the student
what to do rather than leaving him free to decide on his own. Or they
may claim that the teacher is simply not competent to give moral advice
or to know what, morally speaking, is best for the student to do. In
response to these sorts of criticisms it should be pointed out that
the present study does not suggest displacing moral advising from the
home in order that it may take place in the school. Even if it is

the case that the moral advising of the young is typically a "home

285

matter" it does not thereby follow that it cannot or should not also
be a "school matter." The fact is that some students are more dis-
posed to seek advice from their teachers than they are from their
parents. If the various conditions for advising which I have specified
in this study are met by the teacher, surely it is better the student
be given moral advice by that person than not be given it at all--even
if doing so involves exposing the teacher-adviser to certain personal
and (or) family matters. Moral advising in the school is precisely
for these students who want or feel the need of moral guidance but

for one reason or another do not or cannot get it from their parents
or other adults, save the teacher. Moral advising in the schools

thus should be seen as (i) complementary to moral advising done
elsewhere and (ii) an activity initiated by student-request, not as
something that is given by teachers as a matter of course to their
students or that is thrust upon their students in civics classes for
instance, or during opening exercises.

To be sure, advising someone'UDdo one thing rather than another
is telling that person to do something; but it is not dictating,
ordering or commanding that person to do it. When I say "I advise
you to keep your promise to your friend" I am in a sense telling you
what I think you should do; and I am implying there are good reasons
in this case for your keeping your promise which I am prepared to
give you. “I advise you to do X" does not mean "I command (or order)
you to do X" because, while both are instances of telling you to do
something not every instance of "telling to” is an instance of com-

manding or ordering. I can tell you what to do (by giving you advice)

286

which does not entail my ordering you. Further, as just indicated,
commanding is not logically tied to the notion of reasons whereas
advising is. This fact highlights the point that advising another to
do something is an appeal to that person's ability to make choices

and decisions for himself about what he should do. It recognizes that
there are alternative options open to the advisee from among which he
alone must finally choose what he deems to be the best course of
action. So a teacher's giving moral advice to a student can in no
way be construed as the former's attempt to coerce, force or compel
the student to do one thing rather than another. Giving moral advice
to a student presupposes his freedom (and ability) to reason. Those
who argue to the contrary completely misunderstand what advising is
about. Equally those who claim advising is a technique of psycho-
logical persuasion are thorougly misguided. Unlike "I persuaded him
to do X" the expression "1 advisedlrhnto do X" does not mean "I got
him to do it." The aim of persuasion is to get the addressee com-
mitted to some view--to "win him over" as it were. The aim of advising
on the other hand is not that of winning someone over but helping the
advisee solve his own problem by providing him with a "rudder" by
which to "steer." While it is proper to speak of assenting to advice
it does not follow that in failing to get an advisee's assent to do

X that one has thus failed at advising in the way that failing to

get an addressee's assent to do X counts as a failure in persuading.
So giving moral advice to a student is not a case of moral persuasion.
The two activities are conceptually distinct. To criticize the former

activity for doing the latter (and thus lacking respect for the

287

thoughts and views of the addressee) is to be guilty of a logical
mistake.

All of this has, of course, been argued in earlier chapters--
particularly in Chapters I and II where I discuss the logic of advising
and in parts of Chapters III and IV. I have no doubt that the activity
of moral advising in the school or elsewhere can withstand at least
these usual sorts of criticisms brought against it (the most common of
which is that in giving advice the adviser is actually making the
decision for the student or is at least unduly manipulating the stu-

' dent's thinking) because these criticisms are in the main based on
conceptual confusions. They indicate a lack in understanding of the
concept advising. It is possible however that a deeper criticism can
be leveled against moral advising in the schools. To see what this
criticism is about I shall have to examine briefly the subject of
form and content in moral education.

It is currently fashionable among writers, researchers and
(presumably) practitioners in moral education to (a) distinguish
between procedure or form in moral education and content or matter;
and (b) to favor or stress the former to the exclusion of the latter.
As one influential researcher has put it, "We must eventually define
'moral education' in operational terms, so that our results can be as
objective as possible."2 The presumption here is that by focusing on
procedures and methods for making moral decisions rather than on
inculcating traditional moral beliefs and codes (i.e., content) in

the student, objectivity or neutrality in moral education can be

 

2Wilson, Introduction to Moral Education, p. 22.

 

288

attained. And the reasons for desiring objectivity and neutrality

in moral education in the schools are two-fold. First, the tradi-
tional moral values and codes (what Wilson calls ”first order
principles" like the Ten Commandments) have lost their force and point
in a rapidly changing society, and to continue teaching a moral code
(or set of moral beliefs) as though it were still valid and applicable
in all circumstances is to present a misleading and unjustifiably one-
sided picture. Second, the traditional moral code (in Western society
at any rate) has been inextricably enmeshed in Christian ethics. Yet
given contemporary pluralism, to teach such a moral code to students
who adhere to a variety of religious persuasions and to none at all,
is bound to be found offensive and discriminatory. Thus those criticisms
of moral education which are aimed at its partisanship can ostensibly
be met by basing a moral program not on a particular set of moral
beliefs but on a methodology which is deemed to be morally neutral.
The emphasis in contemporary moral education is teaching students "how
to do morality" rather than teaching them that_honesty, etc. is right.
The objections that Wilson and others have to traditional moral educa-
tion programS'nsnot only that they are one-sided (partisan) and somewhat
outdated in content but also that the manner in which they are or were
handled--name1y by exhortation and indoctrination-~15 morally inde-
fensible. Wilson's recommendations for doing moral education in the
schools is that the traditional first order principles (content) be
deleted and not replaced by other substantive issues and that a new
procedure or method of moral education be introduced. Just as in

science education students are taught how to think scientifically by’

289

being taught certain appropriate skills such as "patient observation,"
"accuracy" and "testing by experiment," in moral education students
are to be taught how to think morally by being taught certain appro-
priate (moral) skills. Hence the new basis for moral education "should
consist of imparting those skills which are necessary to make good or
reasonable moral decisions agg_to act on them. We are not primarily
out to impart any specific content, but to give other people facility
in a method."3

The skills.required for reasoning in morals (for making good
moral decisions)--what Wilson calls the "second order norms or rules of
procedure"--consist of: attending to the facts, using language cor-
rectly, sticking to the laws of logic, developing imagination, having
awareness of one's own feelings, taking into account the feelings and
interests of others, being consistent, and so on. These norms or rules
obviously are not all peculiar to rationality in morals; but some are
sufficient for differentiating (accordingix1Wilson) between rationality
in morals from rationality in other areas. Those norms that are peculiar
to the former are: treating others as equals, that is, giving the same
weight to the wants and needs of other people as to one's own; and aware-
ness of one's own and other people's feelings. These two norms or rules
are elements in what Wilson later identifies as the moral component
PHIL which I have already referred to in the last chapter. But irre-
spective of whether the norms are common to rationality in more than one
area or are peculiar to rationality himorals, they all are non-partisan
or morally neutral (so Wilson claims); and they all are required in

3

 

Ibid., p. 27. Emphasis added.

290

making "good or reasonable moral decisions and (acting) on them."
Following these second-order norms or rules is the "ultimate objective"4
of moral education; and, one might add, in learning h9w_to follow them
one is being morally educated. To initiate people into these second-
order norms "could not be described as indoctrination, or as the
imposition of a particular set of values or beliefs on them: it is,
rather, initiation into those general principles which are character-
istic of a certain form of human thought."5 The new moral education
is non-partisan and hence acceptable to anyone regardless of creed or
culture because the second order rules of procedure on which it is
based are themselves nothing more than ways of human thinking and as
such are free of content. So Wilson apparently has achieved his
objective. He has got beneath the troublesome realm of moral values
and beliefs as a source of moral education to an underlying level of
objectivity and neutrality, namely a way of thinking or reasoning
about morals.

All of this is reminiscent of Kohlberg's work, too. Whereas
Wilson objects to moral education as a laying on of first order moral
principles, Kohlberg objects to it as constituting "bags of virtues"
or a listing of absolute values in school codes, such as being good
citizens, being kind, minding one's own business, working quietly,

playing fair, being neat, clean, polite, and punctual, etc.6 Kohlberg's

 

41bid., p. 102.
51bid., p. 112.

6Lawrence Kohlberg, "Education for Justice: A Modern Statement
of the Platonic View," in Moral Education, ed. by Nancy F. and Theodore
R. Sizer (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1960, pp. 61-2.

 

291

objection to bags of virtues is that "there are no such things. Vir-
tues and vices are labels by which people award praise or blame to
others, but the ways people use praise and blame towards others are
not the ways in which they think when making moral decisions them-

"7 So according to Kohlberg it is misleading to base moral

selves.
education on "bags of virtues" because they are not connected to the
underlying thought processes which go into the making of moral deci-
sions. We have seen that Kohlberg's primary objective is to explain

how the young reason through hypothetical moral dilemmas at various

ages and stages in their careers. What is important to Kohlberg is
not_so much the particular value judgment that a person makes about
another's action but hgw_he himself arrives at it, the reasoning he
uses. Reasons are significant both to Wilson and Kohlberg--to the
former because they just are the second order norms or rules on

which moral education is based (so that reasoning or being reasonable

in morals is following the second order rules); and to the latter
because the reasons given for a particular judgment reveal the structure
of the agent's thinking. In short, for both researchers, moral educa-
tion is learning how to be good at reaching and participating in moral
decisions. Ultimately for Kohlberg moral education in the school
consists of "participation in the structure and decisions of the school

itself."8 Thus the "issue of participation raises the issue of the

social structure of the school and a complete approach to moral

 

71bid., p. 63.

8Kohlberg, "Stages of Moral Development," p. 83.

292

education means full student participation in a school in which

justice is a living matter."9

For Kohlberg the principle of justice
is the formal procedural principle that is analogous to Wilson's
central procedural principle of treating others as equals (PHIL) both
of which are deemed to be independent of any particular ethic, set of
values, or way of life and, of themselves, form the bases for a viable
moral education program. Finally, however, whereas Wilson sees the
importance of moral action or conduct as following from a mastery of
the second order norms (or a mastery of rationality) Kohlberg regret-
tably has little to say on the matter of moral action. He does note
that "moral maturity in judgment seems to correlate with more mature
moral action. Principled subjects both cheat much less and resist
pressures by authorities to inflict pain on others much more than do

"‘0 But principled subjects are at stages 5 and

less mature students.
6 and are few in number. The less morally mature students, stage 2
and 3 students, are by implication much less inclined to be influenced
in their conduct by their level of moral thinking. Working through a
Kohlberg hypothetical moral dilemma has little transfer value over to
the subject's own actual moral conduct.

In its 1969 report to the Minister of Education for the Province

ll

of Ontario, the Committee on Religious Education took the position

 

91bid., p. 84.

101616.. pp. 78-9.
11The Report of the Committee on Religious Education in the Pub-

lic Schools of the Province of Ontario, Religious Information and
Moral Development (Ontario Department of Education, 1969).

 

 

293

that "it is the formal character or moral point of view of a particular
judgment which is important, rather than its content. It is not the
decision reached in a given situation that matters, so much as the

"12 It is the Committee's view

process of arriving at that decision.
that developing morally is developing an ability to make sound moral
judgments. Thus in the moral instruction of the young the teacher
"ought to be concerned with the quality of thinking that produces a
particular moral judgment or decision than with the behaviour which
is its consequence."]3 The Committee's apparent lack of concern for
moral behavior, following Kohlberg, stems from its conviction that
"to influence behavior rather than the Underlying process of moral
reasoning . . . leads to the establishing of absolute values . . . .
It is regrettable, but absolute standards of morality are not a normal
part of human experience and to teach that they can be is to risk the
child at some later stage rejecting the whole system.“4 Conduct,
then, far from being interpreted "as synonymous with morality" is
considered to be "a mere symptom of the individual's level of moral
development."15
In summing up, the three positions (Wilson, Kohlberg, and the
Committee) are all of a piece insofar as their conception of moral

education in the schools is concerned. To be sure there are some

differences among them (Wilson being more concerned about moral action

 

12Ibid., p. 44.
'3Ibid.. pp. 46-7.
14

Ibid., p. 47.
15Ibid., p. 45.

294

than either Kohlberg or the Committee) but they all share in the
procedural or methodological approach to moral education rather than
a substantive or content approach. They all claim the basis of moral
eeucation is rationality, not the transmission of a set of moral beliefs.
It remains unclear, though, the extent to which the proceduralists

are prepared to include moral conduct or behavior in their conception
of moral education. There seems to be less than concurrence on this
matter, and probably for good reason; for moral conduct is likely to
be construed as "content."

What is the "deeper criticism" that can be made of moral
advising in the schools to which I referred a few paragraphs ago? It
is simply this. "On the face of it (the antagonist will say) moral
advising is a formal or procedural approach. After all does it not
profess to be a rational activity and are not Wilson's second order
norms or rules of procedure just the conditions which a moral adviser
gga_adviser must satisfy (as per Section 5.2). Is it not also the
case that a series of 'logical' conditions must be met if a speech-act
is to be an act of advising (as per Section 2.1)? But (he will con-
tinue) any further pretense of advising a§_being procedural or
formal and hence neutral and non-partisan is shattered by the open and
explicit appeal in moral advising to substantive matters or matters
of content. For whenever one engages in the act of advising (by
saying 'I advise you to . . .' or words to that effect) he necessarily
refers to the act advised. So in advising another person there are
always two things of which to take account: (a) the verbal utterance,

speech act or act of advising (which is the logical or procedural part)

295

and (b) the act advised (which is the content). So (he will con-
clude) moral advising is no improvement, at bottom, over the
traditional moral education programs in which moral beliefs and values
were laid on the student as absolute answers to moral problems; it
is no improvement because it is tied to the notion of moral content
and of telling a student what course of action to follow."

Our antagonist is remarkably accurate in his analysis of the
procedural agg_substantive components of moral advising. After all,
a piece of advice is unmistakably a piece of content; and advising,
unmistakably a formal or logical act. I cannot advise you without
advising you to do something. If I simply say to you "I advise you"
it is always in order for you to ask "But what is it you advise me
to do?" I cannot be said to have advised you unless I specify, in the
act of advising, the advised act. Moreover I cannot advise you unless
I use words in a certain logical pattern and ensure that certain
logical requirements are satisfied. So any case of advising, including
moral advising, of necessity is a conjunction of form and content. In
the utterance "I advise you to tell the truth" the form consists of
the act of advising, namely the "I advise you to" and the content of
“tell the truth" (the act advised). But while our antagonist is
correct in his analysis as far as he goes, he is mistaken in his view
that a (deep) criticism of moral advising is its conjoining form with
content. This misguided criticism comes about by our antagonist's
misunderstanding of moral activities (like moral education) as being
a wholly formal or procedural affair. My claim is that moral activi-

ties in the school by the nature of the case cannot help but appeal to

296

matters of content as well as procedure--that indeed, the procedures
themselves have a substantive dimension to them. Thus rather than
being a criticism of moral advising that it "muddies the waters" by
bringing in content it is in fact a strength of it. Moral advising
simply does (or attempts to do) what has to be done in any context of
moral instruction or moral education, namely appeal to form agg_con-
tent. In fact the refreshing advantage of moral advising in a world
offbrmalism just is that it faces up to actual moral issues and
delivers material by which an advisee may be guided to a resolution
of his moral problem.

Does this mean then that the methodological positions,
respecting moral education, of Wilson, Kohlberg and the Committee are
in error? Not necessarily; but it does mean, I believe, that they
have given insufficient attention to the content which their procedures
smuggle in; or that they are insufficiently aware they actually
appeal to both form and content in the articulation of their views.
The Committee's work falls under this second description. For shortly
after having declared their formalist stance, namely, the view that
moral education is developing a young person's power to reach sound
moral judgments or to reason morally, the Committee quickly moves
(unwittingly?) to embrace a program of character development. "We
believe that the high duty of public education (is) to foster character

16

building"; and they make it clear that by "character building" they

mean the "inculcation of desirable social attitudes and ethical and

 

151616., p. 52.

297

17 They continue: "The curricular innovation which

moral values."
we recommend, then, in the field of moral education is the establish-
ment of a program . . . (which) will have as its focus character
building, ethics, social attitudes, and moral values and principles."18
Yet it is this precise substantive approach of inculcating desirable
attitudes and moral values which the Committee members had earlier led
the reader to believe they were rejecting in favor of the procedural
approach. In the end the Committee adopts what looks like a very
traditional program in moral education and one which both Kohlberg

and Wilson have ostensibly found good reasons for criticizing. The
Committee's attempt at a purely procedural conception of moral educa-
tion fails; they evidently have been drawn to include (or have felt
the need to include) a consideration of moral values and attitudes
(first order principles) in their recomnendations for amoral education
program in the schools despite their earlier expressed discontent with
the notion of inculcating moral values in the young.

A more interesting position with which to deal in this connec-
tion, and the one I shall consider the test case, is that of Wilson.
Is Wilson's conception of moral education as based on second order
rules or norms a purely procedural approach or does it in fact bring
with it a content, a particular set of values. Let us by way of
example re-consider some of Wilson's second order rules of procedure,

namely that of treating others as equals or giving the same weight

to the wants and needs of other people or to one's own; and that of

 

171616.

 

181616., pp. 53-4.

298

awareness of the feelings of others and of one's own. Now when we
talk about taking these sorts of things into consideration in reaching
a moral decision (as Wilson does) it seems to me that we are thereby
takingamoral position, and assigning worth to the considerations just
cited. In saying that we give the same weight to the wants and

needs of others as we give to our own we are saying, in effect, that
the wants and needs of others count; and that, it seems to me, is a
moral (value) claim. Wilson on the other hand would respond to this
as follows. He would say that following the above rules of procedure
is the rational thing to do. "Rationality," he notes, "is the char-

d."‘9 Thus in

acteristically human way of dealing with the worl
attending to the facts, following the laws of logic, having an aware-
ness of other people's feelings, giving equal weight to other's needs
and wants, etc., we are according to Wilson, dealing with the world
in a characteristically human way. Is this then a neutral, non-
partisan claim or are there certain values hidden within it? Is
Wilson recommending that rationality is the best way of approaching
the world or is he making a descriptive claim that this is in fact
the way people do approach the world. What turns on his use of the
expression "characteristically human way"? So far as I can tell
Wilson takes himself, at this point to be describing--not, however,
how people approach the world, but the notion of person. His claim

(roughly) is that once we are clear about what a person is (what

it means to be a person)--once we fully understand personhood--it

 

19Wilson, Introduction to Moral Education, p. 51.

 

299

will just be seen that to treat others as equal just follows from

this understanding.20

l'People are equals because they are the same
in certain very important ways. They are the same in using language,
having thoughts and feelings and wants . . . . One person may be
stronger or cleverer, or richer or more powerful than another; but
they are still equals. This means that what one of them desires, or
wants or feels, or thinks, is no more and no less important than

21

what the other desires." This evidently is part of the description

 

of personhood--the beginnings of a logical definition of "person."
Now logical definitions according to Wilson, are non-partisan and
exclude first order norms or moral values.22 Accordingly, from a.
logical definition (value-free description) of "person" we will be
able to say that "treating others as equals“ is a logical consequence
of the definition. But "treating others as equals" is one of our
second order norms. so we seem to have arrived at the conclusion that
since this second order norm follows from a logical definition the
norm itself is free and independent of any set of values or ways of
life or codes. As a second order, hence neutral and non-partisan,
norm or principle "treating others as equals" cannot be derived from
"It is what God (or our parents, or society) wants (or says is right)"
and still retain its second orderedness. Rather it is a logical

implication of the description of "person." How do we get the remaining

 

20John Wilson, A Teacher's Guide to Moral Education (London:
Geoffery Chapman, 1973), p. 30.

21

 

Ibid., p. 28.

221bid., p. 32.,

300

second order rules which Wilson identified earlier? "Given this
central principle (treating others as equals) it is clear that the
other components (the other second order rules) are logically required.
We must know what other people feel (EMP); know the facts (GIG) and
be able and willing to bring this knowledge and our attitude of concern
to bear on actual situations, so that we decide and act in the right
way (KRAT). These are attributes which would be possessed by anyone
who seriously asked the question 'What ought I to do?'; they follow
logically from the question and are not the peculiar property of any
particular ethic . . . ."23
Wilson's objective appears to have been met; and his defense
rests. His second order principles of procedure are all independent
of ethical codes, values and moral beliefs because they are all
logically derived from a neutral description of "person." We are thus
led to conclude that to be rational (to follow the second order rules)
is just to be a person. But this seems to claim more than Wilson's
earlier dictum that "Rationality is the characteristically human way
of dealing with the world." But how could this be? The answer I
believe lies in the fact that Wilson has not been as neutral in his
defense as he claims to be. Something of "value" has been slipped in.
If Wilson is correct in his explication of "person" ang_the connection
between explication and the second order norm, then it will be true
to say that from the fact that "people are the same in using language,
having thoughts and feelings" we get the principle "treating others

as equals (i.e., giving the same weight to their wants and needs as to

 

23Ibid., p. 31. ’

—————-

301

our own)." It will be true as a matter of definition essentially; for
the latter eXpression is just part of what the former means. But
this, it turns out, is a terminological fiat of sorts. Rather than
describing what is, Wilson has in fact carefully selected or chosen
his description of "person" and asserted that from it the expression
"treating others as equals" logically follows. Even if his descrip-
tion of "person" is correct as far as it goes one still cannot get
from "people are the same in using language, having thoughts and
feelings" straight off to “giving the same weight to other people's
wants and needs as to one's own." For I can always say "Of course
people are the same in that they all use language, have thoughts and
feelings; but why treat them as equals?" without committing a logical
inconsistency. What this means is that Wilson's second order rule
of procedure does ngt_after all follow from the description of "person"
(i.e., is not logically determined by it): it is rather something he
has himself chosen to promote as a viable basis on which to build a
program for moral education. In his choosing a second order principle
of the kind "treating others as equals" he assigns a value to it. He
is in effect saying "treating others as equals" is a desirable way
of looking at the world. Thus his second order rule of procedure is
more than a logical consequence of a description of "person"; and that
"more” consists of a moral value embedded in the procedure itself.

If this conclusion is correct, Wilson has not succeeded in
divorcing content from form in nuaral education-~i.e., succeeded in
basing moral education on a procedural approach said to be independent

of a set of values or moral beliefs. For the procedures (the second'

302

order norms) themselves are expressions of value. It is still impor-
tant however to distinguish between form and content provided it is
understood that "making a distinction" is not necessarily "dividing and
separating off." There is much in the traditional conception of moral
education that needs to be criticized both by way of the content of
that education and the manner in which it is or was handled. Wilson
is quite right in his objective to put moral education on a sounder
footing. But he is wrong in thinking that putting it on a procedural
footing he thereby purges that footing of moral values. The concept
of giving moral advice (in the schools) takes cognizance of this fact:
namely, that form agg_content are both required. For this reason
moral advising is defensible; it attempts to do what any attempt at
moral education logically cannot escape from doing, namely addressing

the question of form ang_content.

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303

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