is the good of thisparticular social life inhabited by me and I enjoy itas what it
is’ (MacIntyre, 1995: 217, his emphases). That such goods could be enjoyed in other
national communities does not diminish the fact that they are enjoyed here. It follows- and this is a big claim – that ‘Ifind myjustification for allegiance to these rules
of morality in myparticular community; deprived of the life of that community, I
would have no reason to be moral’ (MacIntyre, 1995: 217, his emphases). He makes
a further, but actually quite different, point about the relationship between morality
and community. Being moral is not easy, for too often our self-interested desires
conflict with what we know we ought to do, so ‘it is important to morality thatI
can only be a moral agent because weare moral agents... I need those around
me to reinforce my moral strengths and assist in remedying my moral weaknesses’
(MacIntyre, 1995: 217, his emphases). MacIntyre summarises his defence of
patriotism, and thus partiality to compatriots, in this way:
If... it is the case that I can only apprehend the rules of morality in the version
in which they are incarnated in some specific community; and if... it is the case
that the justification of morality must be in terms of particular goods enjoyed
within the life of particular communities; and if... it is the case that I am
characteristically brought into being and maintained as a moral agent only
through particular kinds of moral sustenance afforded by my community, then
it is clear that deprived of this community, I am unlikely to flourish as a moral
agent.
(MacIntyre, 1995: 218, his emphases)
MacIntyre goes on to argue that this dependence on community places limits on
rational criticism of it (1995: 220). MacIntyre’s argument is confused. First, he
conflates the dependence on a community with dependence on a particular
community – the excessive use of italics to emphasise pronouns (I, we) and indexicals
(this, it, here) is really a way of driving a point home in the absence of an argument.
Certainly, morality depends on socialisation, but liberals are right to argue that
moral consciousness points beyond ‘this’ community. A person who values her own
community will be capable of recognising that others will value their communities.
Where MacIntyre is correct is in arguing that such recognition cannot lead to pure
impartial treatment: a parent who recognises the rights of other parents cannot
commit himself to impartiality between his children and other children without
thereby contradicting the universal ‘good’ of parenthood. Partiality is intrinsic to
parenthood. MacIntyre is also right to emphasise the social dimension of ‘goods’,
but his objection to the impersonal treatment of goods is overstated: some goods
are tied up with a particular community – it is not easy to export political stability
or non-corrupt administration – but others are less marked by particular cultures:
material aid being an example of an ‘exportable’ good.
A less radical, and for that reason, more credible defence of particularism is
provided by David Miller, whose work we discussed briefly in Chapter 12 on
Nationalism. In a manner seemingly similar to MacIntyre he distinguishes two
positions, which he terms ethical universalism and ethical particularism. Universalists
can accept ‘agent-relative’ considerations only so long as they do not conflict with
universalism at a basic level. So a universalist would endorse as a basic principle
‘relieve the needy’, but maintain that this is best achieved if each of us takes care
of the needy in our immediate environment (Miller, 1995: 51). The justification of
490 Part 4 Contemporary ideas