The following is an excerpt from my final paper in Art, Emotion, and Morality entitled “Fiction and Moral Education: Making Men With Chests”. The title is a reference to C.S. Lewis’ The Abolition of Man, a book I heartily recommend!
“When Socrates kicked poetry out of the Republic, he did it on the grounds that art, being a representation of the physical world which is itself a representation of the formal world, is two removes from the truth. Small wonder, then, that Homer is replete with errors about the gods and the afterlife. For anyone seeking to raise up a generation of ethically trained truth-seekers, education by fiction is, according to Socrates, counter-productive: These errors lead to the inculcation of false moral values like fear of death and doubt of the gods.
For those of us who reject Plato’s idealism, we may admit the possibility of stories that convey moral truth. But can such a story give us moral knowledge? Given that knowledge is justified true belief, it is not clear that fiction can provide epistemic justification except in special cases. As a Christian who accepts the divine inspiration of the Bible, I believe that Jesus’ parables can give moral knowledge. Their origin in God is justification for believing whatever ethical truth-claims are put forth or implied in the stories. But what about a novel like A Clockwork Orange, a short story like “Greenleaf” by Flannery O’Connor, or a movie like There Will Be Blood? Apart from divine inspiration, I am unsure that fictions can provide justification for believing the ethical content or accepting the ethical point of view represented therein.
But perhaps there is more to moral education than just the acquisition of moral knowledge. Perhaps the faculties we use to make moral choices based on such knowledge need development to be implemented effectively. After all, learning usually requires a transitional phase of training between the acquisition of theoretical knowledge and actual practice. For example, if you are teaching a student how to write critical essays for a standardized test, you will begin by teaching her the basic theory of literary criticism and essay writing. Then, you will have her hone her skills through writing practice essays. This practice will probably include reading and critiquing poor essays as well, so your student will know just what makes a bad essay bad. Only after this practice is she ready to put her theoretical knowledge, quite literally, to the test. Or one might think more readily of sport as an example. Coaches give their players theoretical knowledge of the skills required for their game. This knowledge is ingrained through drills, the repetition of correct actions until they become habit or ‘muscle memory’. The players supplement their drills with strength training, building up the muscle groups relevant to their sport through resistance. Thus trained, the players are ready to play an actual game where their actions count.
Just like writing a critical essay or making a rugby tackle, moral virtue must be learned through training if it is to be practiced in real life. This training includes both repetition, as in the practice essays and drills, and opposition, as in the bad essay critiques and strength training. Stories in the main may not provide knowledge to the head, but neither do they simply titillate the emotions of the gut. They work on what Plato called the ‘spirited element’, or what C.S. Lewis called, “The Chest—Magnanimity—Sentiment—these are the indispensable liaison officers between cerebral man and visceral man.” They can provide us with ethical training both through repetition and opposition. This position I call Virtue Training Theory.
“Repetition” in Virtue Training Theory means the process of positively rehearsing the patterns of right thought and emotion, or sentiments, necessary for good moral choice. This occurs when one reads (or watches, etc.) a work of fiction that manifests a true ethical attitude toward its content. It is important that it concerns the morality of the manifest attitude and not the content itself; reading a story that contains immoral content is still an exercise in repetition if the story calls a spade a spade. For example, reading A Clockwork Orange, though its anti-hero Alex perpetrates such immoral acts as rape and murder, is repetition because the immorality of his actions is implicitly acknowledged and even crucial to the novel’s exploration of the ethical dilemma of psychological conditioning and human free will.
“Opposition” in Virtue Training Theory means the process of negatively rehearsing right sentiments through engaging with a work of fiction that manifests a false ethical attitude towards its contents. The film There Will Be Blood manifests an attitude of moral nihilism, through twists and turns of plot getting the audience to feel sympathy for its reprehensible main character and, in the final scene, take pleasure in a brutal murder. In the end we are left feeling that statements about morality do not really say anything because they certainly cannot make sense of the situation presented in the film. Opposition to this film entails understanding its ethical viewpoint, considering its discrepancy with the truth that some attitudes and actions are actually wrong, and internally repudiating it. Both processes, repetition and opposition, contribute to moral education by inculcating just sentiments. [I believe the ideal fictional component of an ethical education would progress from total repetition in grammar school, exposing students only to works with true ethical viewpoints, to an even balance of repetition and opposition by the end of high school.]
I believe Virtue Training Theory finds a place for fiction in ethical education without wrestling with the tricky epistemological problem of grounding our moral knowledge in fiction…”
Throughout the rest of the paper I contrast Virtue Training Theory with another contemporary theory and answer possible objections. If anyone’s interested in reading it, e-mail me and I’ll send you a copy!
