Comments and remarks on the writings of Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments
It's the thought that counts, right? In this series we've already touched upon the notions of the means justifying the ends, as well as ascribing the same level of proper regard for human intentions as we do to inanimate objects. The next, perhaps natural, step, then, is to examine the means by which we judge ourselves, and other fellow-creatures. That is to say, what we use as a conscience, a guide, a general rule, to help affirm our actions as deserving of approbation; or at least, not deserving of any due disapprobation.
It is a paradox that, if I may say so, draws a striking comparison to the argument of which came first, the chicken or its egg. Many philosophers, great and small, before me, have attempted to lay out (no pun intended) their arguments for both, and I, neither being a renowned philosopher, nor desiring to delve as deep into such topics, want only to bring to light an interesting argument from Adam Smith. Assume for a moment, as we often do for these types of mental exercises, that we are not to worry about the debate of the existence of a deity that has commanded any such moral laws. Whether there is, or not, is a moot point. The question, then, is whether humans have a moral law built into their breast (the location ascribed to containing the sense of ethics, as noted in Adam Smith's writings), fashioned by nature, or whether it is the laws of the land that, over time, shaped what is seen as right and just. Which came first, the internal morals that shaped the laws, or the external laws that shaped our internal morals? And, moreover, what does the internal versus external origin have to do with the notion of 'the thought that counts'?
In the case of supposing that the external laws were fashioned first, then impressed upon the human breast, to guide and shape their internal code of ethics, we can take an example from different ends of the world, and compare them to one another. How is it, long before the advent of any meaningful communication devices, or perhaps even before the ability to send scraps of parchment and ink any reasonable distance, that so many different and isolated locales came upon such similar rules to govern human behavior? Settlers of a new land, perhaps, might bring with them the rules set forth by their motherland, but if history is continually traced back further, to the point where tribes had no meaningful communication with anyone outside their immediate vicinity, the same general rules seem to be present. And, ignoring, as we are, the possibility of divine intervention in establishing these rules, the probability that such a different populous and different landscape as earth is, produced consistently similar rules externally becomes infinitesimal, ignorable. If the likelihood were not as such, it seems then, likely that the same arts, music, languages, cultural norms, or some combination therein would also have been produced the same. And yet, the vastness of architecture, music, and art produced by different tribes the world over bears very little, if any, resemblance to the other. What conclusion we are left with, then, must be that there was some underlying factor that influenced each individual tribe, to come to similar conclusions in the manner of governing behavior.