The Moral Irrelevance of
Autonomy
Gary Comstock
Iowa State University
Editors' Note: The following papers on
"Autonomy and the Moral Status of Animals"
are from symposia on that subject which were
presented at the Pacific Division meetings of
the Society for the Study of Ethics and
Animals, held in Los Angeles, California, in
March, 1990, and at the Conference on
"Animal Rights and our Human Relationship
to the Biosphere," held at San Francisco State
University, in April, 1990.
ngly, the whole menace collapsed from within. One of
the boys grabbed the leader's stick and drew a tighter,
more conservative, line inside the first one. Then
another seized it and reduced the circumference even
more. The boys came to words, and then to pointing
and shoving. Which one of these lines was the real
one? What kind of line is it that lets him in?
The internal feuding spelled the end of the boys'
frightening game because you cannot keep people out
if you do not know who is in. But it had another
unexpected effect As the insiders separated into
warring factions, the outsiders drew strangely together,
for the demise of the boys' party opened up a vast new
range of activities on the beach. Before long there was
all sorts of merry-making: swimming, sunbathing,
castle making, dog walking, windsurfing, ice cream
eating, kite flying. They all found something they liked
doing, and even the boys began to drop their sticks,
leave off their fuming, and join the fun.
The moral of the story is this: The end of linedrawing means the beginning of cooperative life.
Once upon a time a boy and his gang drew a big
circle around themselves and defied anyone else to get
in it. A clever fellow, the leader drew the line just large
enough to include all those like him but just small
enough to exclude everybody else. The outsiders
initially paid little attention to the rascals, leuing them
have their fun. But before long, the boys' temper had
worsened considerably, and soon everyone on the beach
was silting up. What they saw was not preuy: the boys
grimly ordering everyone else about and slowly kindling
a bonfire in their barbecue pit.
The outsiders' responses varied. Some tried
discreetly to step over the line, pretending they had been
in all along. (This strategy met with mixed success,
depending upon how much the marginal types already
resembled the fellows.) Others tried various forms of
surreptitious gerrymandering, furtively anaching a little
blip here, an appendix there, so as to include them and
theirs in the circle. (This ploy almost always failed,
the eagle-eyed gang being obsessed with its borders.)
In general, outsiders stayed outsiders.
But the boys had a problem of their own: They could
nOl uniformly agree about who was in and who was
oul. So just when things seemed to be turning most
Winter 1992
In previous work, R. G. Frey has argued that the
possession of "moral rights" is not the line separating
us from nonhuman animals. His reason is nOl thal
some animals are inside this line (he denies that any
PHILOSOPHY
15
Between the Species
The Moral Irrelevance 0/ Autonomy
committing oneself to its ultimate importance. The boys
should constantly be reminded about thlllline previously
drawn there, this one so recently and confidently drawn
here. This tactic will never defeat the boys directly, but
it will buy valuable time. The idea is so to pester all
line-drawers with the knowledge of their own ineptness
that they will eventually get frustrated and abandon the
enterprise of their own free will.
Far from helping Regan to help Frey set a new line
in concrete, I want to sneak in, give their disputed border
a good scuffling with my feet, and get out. My intent is
to show that autonomy is virtually useless as a line to
tell us which beings have and which beings do not have
moral standing. My thesis is that we must not trust
autonomy to describe the circle outside of which are
individuals whom "the way is ... open" to killing and
eating.7 I should tell you at the start that I do believe
with Frey that animals are not autonomous. But I also
believe with Regan and others that we should not kill
them and eat them or use more of them in scientific
experiments. How can I believe both? Because precious
little follows for practical morality from the fact that
animals lack the ability to plan or control their lives.
Frey's definition of autonomy is more precise than
Regan's "preference autonomy." It has three elements,
the first of which is the freedom to act on our own behalf.
Autonomy is "our desire to achieve things for
ourselves," to make "something of oW' lives," the way
a fledgling philosopher might want to succeed on her
own rather than trying to ride on her famous husband's
coattails. To illustrate the point Frey tells ofan academic
acquaintance who was concerned that his un tenured
wife might not be promoted. The husband suggested
that he write some publishable papers which she could
take and revise and then submit to journals as her own.
The woman was rightly insulted by the idea because
she did not want to make something of herself by
deceitfully using her husband's work. She wanted to
make something of herself by relying on her own talents
and powers She wanted to make something of herself.
By rebuffing her husband's attempt to intrude, the
woman showed that she was not subject to control by
paternalistic outside forces. She was free "of the
coercive interference of others."g
The second requirement is freedom from internal
coercion. In order to pursue the ends we most cherish,
we must not only gain independence from the desires
of outsiders, but we must also master our own desires
as well. "A certain ordering" of life is necessary if an
are), nor that some humans are outside it (he affinns
that many are), but rather that the line itself is too fuzzy.l
Talk about moral rights, Frey explains, is unsupported
by good arguments and is more successful as rhetoric
than as philosophy? Frey is a utilitarian who puts little
stock in general in the Kantian picture of morality, and
so he rejects the "moral rights" line.
He does not reject line-drawing. In a recent article,
"Autonomy and the Value ofAnimal Life," he lays down
what he believes is a clearer boundary than any other
current candidate: autonomy.3 According to Frey,
nonhumans lack moral standing not because they lack
what no one probably possesses (rights) but, rather,
because they lack what all "normal adult humans"
possess: autonomy, the ability to control or make
something out of our lives. 4
Why should Frey want to shift the burden of the case
against animals onto the back of a concept traditionally
associated in the most intimate way with that of moral
rights? Because he finds it a far less ambiguous notion,
not to mention a less controversial one. In the first
sentence of the article he claims that autonomy has had
"great stress" placed upon it: "in Anglo-American
society, [by] virtually every moral theory of any note."5
Because it has received such stress by so many other
.theorists dealing with so many other kinds of ethical
issues, he believes that it may serve as the limiting concept
for all inquiries into our moral duties toward animals.
Frey is not alone in focusing attention on this line.
One of the best known cases/or the moral standing of
animals-Tom Regan's case-puts as much weight on
autonomy as Frey's case against animals. Regan's
strategy if to try to attach a large bubble to Frey's circle
so as to make insiders not only of homo sapiens but of
all adult higher mammals. Thus, Regan makes each of
the following claims: Many animals "have preferences
and have the ability to initiate action with a view to
satisfying them;" this constitutes "preference autonomy:"
and many animals, possessing such autonomy, must
therefore be granted moral considerability.6 Regan does
not agree with Frey as to where the line should be drawn,
but he does agree that autonomy is the border.
This is not the way for defenders of animals to deal
with line-drawers. As Frey correctly suggests, Regan's
tack only underscores the importance of the line,
contributing that much more heat to the debate about
where the line"really" is. The better strategy is to keep
one's distance, sneaking into the midst of the fray from
time to time to keep everyone honest, but never
Between Ihe Species
16
Winter 1992
o
The Moral Irrelevance 0/ Autonomy
Those who are not autonomous, Frey believes, are
morally inferior to those who are autonomous. Denying
that all humans have equal moral value, he asserts that
the value of someone's life is directly related to its
quality.u Since he thinks that the quality of the moral
life of a nonautonomous person is less than the quality,
of an autonomous person, Frey must also think that we
would all be better persons, morally speaking, if we seized
control of our lives, took matters into our own hands,
and changed careers to pursue the one we most desire.
Frey does not address himself to some of the knottier
questions raised by his analysis. Is autonomy
intrinsically good or good as a means to another end?
Frey seems to think that it is good in itself. But can't
we develop our autonomy at the expense of others?
Couldn't we strive to become more autonomous in order
better to exploit others sexually or coerce them into
unearned business favors? Nor does Frey tell us what
to think about moral theories in which autonomy has
not been heavily accented. Such theories may not be
part of something called "the" tradition of AngloAmerican moral theory, but they are undeniably part of
the moral practices of Brits and Americans: the Land
Ethic and environmentalisms; Natural Law, Divine
Command, and other religiously based theories;
feminist and pragmatist perspectives; all aretaic theories
that insist on the multiplicity and irreconcilability of
the virtues. These theories are not bit players in the
actual moral lives of those living in Great Britain and
the United States even if they have been largely ignored
by most of their moral philosophers. But if few of the
alternative theories stress autonomy, why should we
think it "central" or noncontroversial?
Nor does Frey address in this article the most
troubling question of all: Even if autonomy were
demonstrated to be the line separating us from animals,
would thatjustify killing and eating cows or cementing
baboon heads into steel sleds and slamming them
against walls? May we so treat any and every being
that lacks autonomy?
However urgent these questions may be, they are
not the ones Frey sets out to answer in the present essay,
and I will not pursue them here. Rather, the central
claim of his paper is that autonomy is a property of the
"normal adult human" and a necessary feature of the
good life. It is this claim I wish to contest. Frey could
mean it in one of two ways. He could intend it as a
descriptive claim, that all "normal adult humans" just
are autonomous. This would be an empirical judgment
untenured professor is to "put herself in a position to
be able to produce serious academic work."9 If she
does not control her minor impulses, she will be pulled
in so many directions that she will not be able to devote
herself to the desire she desires most Self-government
means that we are able to forego certain lower-order
preferences (e.g., playing in a semi-pro basketball
league) in order to pursue higher-order desires (e.g.,
making associate professor). Freyan autonomy requires
"internal" as well as "external" freedom, the ability to
make higher-order decisions about the relative
importance of lower-order desires.
The third requirement is to decide for oneself about
the kind of life one wants to lead. The professor who
successfully resists the intrusions of her husband and who
successfully controls her less desirable desires may still
be doing something she has not chosen. Suppose that
she is working to be associate professor for no other reason
than than her mother was a professor before her and her
grandmother before that and she feels, for religious
reasons drummed into her as a child, that she ought to do
what her family wants. Frey would not call this woman
autonomous, because she is not pursuing a career she has
chosen for herself. She is pursuing a plan of life that has
been imposed upon her. Notice that she has all of the
equipment needed to survey a range of possible plans
and to select one for herself but simply has not used it.
Instead, she has settled for doing the best she can in what
she considers "the family's" line of work. Freyan autonomy
requires that we think rationally about the variety of
conceptions of the good life, deliberately choose one, and
consistently pursue it
Frey calls his version of the line "autonomy as
control." Being in control is important for Frey, as his
example of a nonautonomous person shows. Imagine
a successful businessman who longs to be a painter and
yet continues to spend his energies perfecting his
father's business. Frey's opinion of such a man is harsh,
and he thinks many of us will "doubtless" be struck by
how "weak" the man is. Frey puts the matter
straightforwardly: "The real charge against this man is
servility; he has allowed, for whatever reason, others
to impose their conception of the good life upon him."lo
Here we see how much weight Frey attaches to the third
requirement. You are not autonomous: if you have not
selected a plan of life from a range of options, if you
have not made up your mind about what you think the
good life is, and if you have not taken decisive action
to pursue your conception of the good life.
Winter 1992
17
Between the Species
The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
lounge for a Kleenex and a doughnut. Graced with
superior counselling skills, Carrie is an excellent conflict
mediator who quietly but effectively intervenes between
faculty and administrators, smoothing out school life
in ways that are no less significant for being nigh
imperceptible. Here is a moral exemplar who
successfully raised her children and then turned her
considerable nurturing skills to those with whom she
comes in daily contact.
about the kinds of lives led by most people in the world.
If this were Frey's intent we would have to do some
social-scientific work to find out whether he was right.
Lacking the results of such a study and basing my
response only on my own experience with what appear
to be "normal adult humans," I must nevertheless say
that I find this view fantastic. The majority of "normal
adult humans" I know are far from autonomous in Frey's
sense, and I shall shortly introduce you to one. 12
But Frey might intend his claim, on the other hand,
as a normative judgment-that all normal adults should
be autonomous. This is more properly a philosophical
judgment, and one with which I disagree. I do not
believe that autonomous people necessarily live lives
of higher moral quality than less autonomous folk, and
the person I will describe below will serve to show why
I hold this view as well.
Assume that auLOnomy is, on the whole and all things
considered, a good of one son or another. In the absence
of other considerations it is better to have control over
your life than not LO do; better to have a life plan than
not to have one; better LO be internally free than to be
tied up by your lesser desires, better to be externally
free than to be hamstrung by others' plans for you. 13
. Assume further that "the value of life is a function of
its quality, its quality a function of its richness, and its
richness a function of its scope or potentiality for
enrichment."14 And assume too "that many humans
lead lives of a very much lower quality than ordinary
normal lives, lives which lack enrichment and where
the potentialities for enrichment are severely truncated
or absent."15 From these premises it does not follow,
as Frey seems to assume, that beings who are not fully
autonomous are beings who either lack moral standing
altogether or who would have a higher quality of life if
they exercised more control over it.
To see the fallacy of the conclusion consider a
normal adult human who lives a life of high moral
quality but has never formulated a plan of life. Carrie
is a fony-seven-year-old mother of six who not only
can "read, do higher mathematics, build a bookcase,
[and) make baba ghanoush," but who also has served
in a responsible position as secretary of an elementary
school for twenty-five years. 16 According to the
school's principal, students refer to Carrie as "Mom"
because she loves to serve as a surrogate parent to
homesick, confused, and lost kindergartners. She is
not hesitant to leave her typewriter to put her arm around
a distraught five-year-old, laking her into the faculty
Between the Species
Carrie likes herjob and is good at it Over the years
she has developed the skills of an administrative
assistant and (while she is still paid secretarial wages)
is indispensable to the operation of her institution.
Carrie not only knows how to facilitate relationships
between cranky teachers, but also how to teach them to
load up Lotus and Word Perfect, how to enter, compose,
and print the annual budget, and how to finesse travel
reimbursements through the school district office for
administrators who consistently forget their receipts.
But Carrie did not choose her career as a secretary,
her career as a mother, or her self-sacrificial way of
life. While she finds some measure of fulftllment in
being a secretary, she would rather volunteer her time
at the local hospital, perhaps even be a nurse, than
continue to put up with the inevitable recurring conflicts
at school. She hesitates to quit her job, however,
because she fears leaving a position which offers her
seniority, a measure of self-fulfillment, and reasonably
happy working conditions. Moreover, she does not
really know how she would go about "changing careers"
at this point, and she believes (almost certainly in error)
that her husband and middle-aged children are not in a
18
Winter 1992
o
The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
themselves or anyone they care for the fearful
pursuit of equality. In the maternal view of
conflict, it is not necessary to be equal in order
to resist violence. 17
position to afford her that luxury. Above all else, Carrie
wants her children to be happy and her husband
satisfied. Her perception of their needs is more
important to her than her other career desires.
Mothering is the activity that gives Carrie the most
satisfaction. But is this a deliberately chosen higherorder preference? Surely it is for some women, but
this does not seem to be the right way to describe Carrie.
Carrie is a reflective and skilled person who has shaped
the lives of others in profound ways. But, as she says
herself, her satisfaction in mothering is more instinctual
than chosen. Raised in a rural area by conservative
Catholic parents, Carrie's mothering conception of a
good life is more an inherited one than one she has
deliberately chosen from a menu. She never remembers
having thought about, much less deliberately chosen, a
"plan" of life.
Not only does Carrie fail Frey's three-fold criterion
for being in the autonomy circle, she does not even want
to try to get in. Carrie has paid careful attention to the
cultural conditions in which her children were raised,
and she is not at all certain that she approves. She has
known for a long time how strongly they were
encouraged from kindergarten on to "find themselves,"
to exhibit independence of thought, to formulate a
rational liCe plan, to seek equality with others, to pursue
their own happiness. Sometimes she finds this amusing,
because when she was growing up, "you didn't have
all this agonizing over who you were and where your
'relationships' were going-you just tound a man, felI
in love, and got married." But other times she is
profoundly disturbed by it. She fears that her children
have been coerced by their consumeristic culture into
placing an overweening importance on their own
successes, their own achievements. Being happy is their
boLLom line. When Carrie was growing up, that was
not the boLLom line; it was caring for others. By allowing
her children to chase autonomy has she also let them
lose sight of the value most cherished by her mother?
Sara Ruddick offers a perceptive comment that
illuminates Carrie's concern. Ruddick's observation
also helps to explain why Carrie does not think she
would necessarily be a beLLer person if only she were
more independent:
In Carrie's conception of the good life, resisting violence
while nurturing peace is more important than resisting
others while nurturing independence. Again, Ruddick
helps us to understand the specificity of this kind of
life: "The peacemaker asks of herself and those she
cares for, not what they can afford to give up, but what
they can give; not how they can be left alone, but what
they can do together."18
So that you do not misunderstand me, let me add
immediately that Carrie is not the sort of "intensely
sympathetic," "intensely charming," Victorian woman
described by Virginia Woolf in Women and Writing:
She excelled in the difficult arts of family life.
She sacrificed herself daily. If there was
chicken, she took the leg, if there was a draught
she sat in it-in short, she was so constituted
that she never had a mind or wish of her own,
but preferred to sympathise always with the
minds and wishes of others."19
Just as Woolf had to "kiIl" this "Angel in the
House"-herself-before she could write, so Carrie had
to kiIl the "Mother in the Home" before she could go
out into the workplace with her youngest child still not
in schooI. 2o Carrie is not in the category of self-abasing
religious housewives, nor even in the category Diana
T. Meyers describes as "the traditional women."21 She
is a fulI moral agent with immense talents in the areas
of care, compassion, hospitality, fairness, discernment,
responsibility, loyalty, and love, She exhibits, in short,
an extremely high quality of moral life. Notice that
she is by no means a "less" rather than "more" nonnal
human, much less a marginal one. We are not talking
here about someone who has severe brain damage or is
seriously mentally-enfeebled. We are not talking about
a criminal, a ne'er-do-well, or even an apathetic,
chocoholic soap opera addict. Carrie is as nonnal a
human as you can find. If she has any distinction, it is
only that she is such a good person. Nevertheless, she
has not selected a plan of life from a range of options;
she has not made up her own mind about what the good
life is; and she has not taken decisive action to pursue
her conception of the good life.
Because [mothersJ live through and witness
shifting power relations, because they watch
firsthand the anxieties of children driven to
be equal, mothers would be slow to wish upon
Winter 1992
19
Between the Species
The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
saint, however, this person is conscious of the forces
shaping her and is capable of reflecting on her desires.
She is sometimes disposed, like Carrie, to want a
different way of life. Unfortunately, she lacks the
willpower to act on these desires. Like the weakly
autonomous saint, the weakly nonautonomous saint
is not always happy with the fact that she is a saint
instead of an advertising executive.
Carrie is a reflective, weakly nonautonomous, saint.
Her will is not free. Yet she is a powerful woman, having
shaped the lives of those around her in profound and
lasting ways. Her children, her students, her husband,
her brothers and sisters, her colleagues at work-all
will tell you how dramatic Carrie's influence has been.
Carrie may be nonautonomous, but she nevertheless
exercises tremendous power over others, and she does
it for their good.
I want to make it clear that when I deny that women
like Felicite and Carrie have autonomy I am not denying
that so-called "traditional" women have autonomy. As
Meyers rightly points out, "the claim that feminine
socialization altogether excludes most women from the
class of autonomous agents is both morally repugnant
and factually unsubstantiated."24 I am not claiming
anything like the repugnant thesis that women are not
autonomous. I am claiming only that some women,
like some men, lack autonomy, and that lacking
autonomy constitutes no reason to downgrade a person's
value. The problem here is that we are trained to
interpret "nonautonomy" as a negative judgment about
someone's character when autonomy, in this context,
should be a descriptive rather than a normative term.
No one would accept a definition of autonomy
according to which they did not qualify as autonomous.
But if no one falls outside our definition, then the
definition is useless. In calling a person nonautonomous, .
we must keep it firmly in mind that we intend, prima
facie, no negative comment about that person.
So I repeat. Carrie is a weakly autonomous saint.
But if Frey is right that the way is open to killing and
eating non autonomous beings, then we would be
justified in killing and eating Carrie. But that is absurd.
Frey might try to save his thesis by denying one of
three things about Carrie. He might try to deny that
she is a normal adult human. By putting her in the
class of severely brain-damaged infants-and cowshe could simply assert that I have not chosen a typical
human being as my example. This response is very
weak. If Carrie is not a normal adult human then I do
Carrie is a reflective, nonautonomous, saint. She
does not have control over her life and, moreover, she
is incapable of exercising control over her life. And
yet the quality of her life is extremely high. Here is a
woman who falls outside of Frey's circle.
To get a clearer picture of the type of individual I
have in mind, consider four different types of saints.22
A saint is anyone who lives a self-sacrificial life. A
self-sacrificial life is one that consistently promotes the
legitimate interests of others while occasionally acting
contrary to legitimate interests of the self: Strongly
autonomous saints act self-sacrificially because they
want to act self-sacrificially. Mother Teresa of Calcutta
not only has the ability to reflect critically on her desires
but also the freedom of will to change her way of life if
she decides, one morning, to leave the poor and get
into advertising. Weakly autonomous saints act selfsacrificially because they want to act self-sacrificially.
Unlike the strong autonomous saint who energetically
affirms and reaffirms her way oflife, however, this saint
is attracted to other conceptions of the good life. She is
unable to switch directions because she lacks the
willpower to act on her other desires. She continues to
act self-sacrificially, but this is as much because of
weakness of will as anything else. Both of these saints
fit Frey's depiction of what he calls normal adult
humans. Both are autonomous. And the weakly
autonomous saint would be better off if she were to
take more control over her life.
Now consider two nonautonomous saints. The
strongly nonautonomous saint acts wantonly in a selfsacrificial way. Like Felicite in Flaubert's short story,
"Un Simple Coeur," this saint's operative desire is
always to relieve the suffering of others, but the desire
to relieve suffering is not a desire she has chosen. What
is more, this is not a desire she could choose, because
nature and nurture have conspired against her to produce
a person who lacks freedom of will. In Harry
Frankfurt's apt expression, she "neither has the [will
she] wants nor has a will that differs from the will [she]
wants. "23 Driven by psychological and sociological
forces beyond her control, Felicite just happens to be a
saint rather than a sinner.
Weakly nonaulonomous saints, like strongly
nonautonomous saints, do not have the power to
choose their self-sacrificial way of life. Their
operative desires are out of their control, determined
by powerful forces of behavioral make-up, habit, and
socialization. Unlike the strongly nonautonomous
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Winter 1992
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The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
husband, her children, her religious relatives) to impose
their conceptions of the good life upon her. She
proceeds to live them out. To be sure, she is no slave,
"but," as Frey says, "we can be servile without being a
slave." Frey thinks that Carrie, for all of her good traits,
should throw off these external bonds. She should
become more Molly-like.
This is an interesting thought experiment, but it
makes a couple of problematic assumptions. First, how
free was Molly twenty-five years ago when she made
her decision? One easily sees behind Molly's choice
glossy magazine advertisements for Trend Business
College, the happy voices of secretarial friends, 1950s
movies about the glamor of big business. In the era of
behavioristic psychology, we have learned to distrust
confident assertions such as "I and I alone have chosen
this line of work over that one." We are sensitive after
Freud to the power of subconscious forces on rational
processes, and we no longer are certain that the quality
of the lives of people who avow that they have chosen
their conception of the good life is better than the quality
of those people's lives who-perhaps more candidlyadmit that they probably have not chosen their
conception of the good life. Self-deception is more
likely to plague the person who imagines herself
autonomous than the person who acknowledges that
she is not. There are good reasons to think that Molly's
allegedly autonomous choice was not autonomous at all.
Of course, if this Molly's choice was not autonomous,
that Molly's choice could have been. So let us now
consider the Molly who really was making the choice
for herself. Couldn't Carrie be a better person by
adopting more of this Molly's assertiveness and
independence? No, for the following reason. Not all
of the virtues are necessarily compatible with all of the
others, and a high degree of personal autonomy and an
intensely self-sacrificial spirit seem rarely to be found
in the same character. To put the same point a different
way, Carrie would no longer be Carrie if the author of
her story were to give her a Mollyan life plan.
Frey lTl;ight respond to this claim by denying that
Carrie's character is so limited; he might even say that
he knows a servant like Carrie with Molly's selfassertiveness. I would not believe him and would ask
him to show us that person. "Showing" here means
composing a coherent, realistic narrative about a
dependent-Carrie who exercises Molly-like control. I
would not deny that there is a possible world in which
the Molly/Carrie in question might exist, and I can
not know one. We may safely assume that Frey will
not try this route of escape.
More plausibly, Frey could try to deny that Carrie
lives a life of high moral quality.25 Such an argument
might go as follows. While Carrie has many wonderful
qualities and is certainly a normal human, her life would
nonetheless be better, morally speaking, if she were to
exercise more of her autonomy. By leaving her
secretarial job and becoming a nurse she could continue
to exercise her mothering and nurturing skills but in an
environment she had chosen herself. On this
interpretation, Carrie would not qualify as a counterexample of Frey's view at all. Instead, she would serve
to reinforce the importance of autonomy as a measure
of morality, being one more example of the truth of the
claim that a life with less autonomy is of lower quality
than a life with more of it.
But this response begs the question. We could only
determine that Carrie's life was inferior because it was
nonautonomous if we already knew that a nonautonomous life was by definition inferior. Whether one can
have a good life and be nonautonomous is precisely
the question we have set out to answer, and we cannot
answer it by repeating it as an assertion.
But there is another way that Frey could press the
objection. He might begin by admitting that Carrie's
life is a good one, and that she is not independent, but
then go on to claim that her life would nevertheless be
a better one if she were to become autonomous. This
response is stronger, but it gives away the store by
granting my central point: Nonautonomy is compatible
with the good life. So if this is the escape route Frey
chooses, I shall respond by putting the ball right back
into his court, with some English on it: Nonautonomy
is not only compatible with a high quality of moral life,
but further, autonomy may in some instances diminish
the quality of a person's life. How so?
Imagine another secretary, Molly, who is like Carrie
in every respect except that Molly chose her job as a
secretary. Twenty-five years ago Molly weighed the
alternatives, decided on a life plan, ordered her life so
as to become a secretary, and then conscientiously
pursued her conception of the good life. Molly's quality
of life, one can imagine Frey saying, is superior to
Carrie's simply because Molly chose her line of work
rather than having it foisted upon her.
Now, we already know Frey's complaint about
Carrie. It is the same as his charge against the successful
businessman: servility. Carrie has allowed others (her
Winter 1992
21
Between the Species
The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
Frey: "Even though you say you are nonautonomous
because you did not choose your secretarial job, you
did choose to go to work, and in this you demonstrated
your autonomy."
Carrie: "I did not choose to go to work outside the
home; I had to work to make ends meet."
Frey: "Well, you chose that, to go to work to make
ends meet, and you did it because you love your
family, no?"
Carrie: "In a sense I chose it But that choice was
influenced as much by my husband's (unspoken) wish
that I go to work and by my own perception of my
family's needs as it was by my own interests. In fact,
when I think about it, I probably would not have chosen
to work had I not been very subtly coerced. So I guess
I should say, no, that! did not choose to work."
Frey: "But do you agree that you love your family,
and that you would choose to satisfy their needs and
your husband's desires above all else?"
Carrie: "Yes."
Frey: "Then when you make choices that pursue
these goals you demonstrate your autonomy."
Carrie: "That sounds convincing. But isn't
autonomy the control of lower order desires by higher
order reflection?"
Frey: "Yes."
Carrie: "Then am I really autonomous when I
'decide' to do what I perceive my husband wants me to
do and what I feel my family wants me to do? Isn't this
more like 'acting under the influence of forces outside'
myself than 'acting so as to make something for myself'
of myself?"
Frey: "Do you think it is?"
Carrie: "Yes, I do. For religious reasons; I would
rather be subject to these others' desires than to pursue
my own self-interested ends independently of them. But
even this way of speaking is foreign to me."
Frey: "Why?"
Carrie: "It is not very flattering to me, and it is not
the way I would put things."
Frey: "How would you put them?"
Carrie: "I would not put them in a way that
suggested that I once faced a stark choice between (a)
acting to please my husband and family and (b) acting
to please myself. Nor would I say that I deliberated
about those two potential life plans and then settled on
(a). That is a false picture. I never faced the choice,
nor made such a decision."
Frey: "Really? Why?"
imagine a science fiction writer constructing a character
who is simultaneously in control and out of control,
other-directed and self-sacrificial while also selfdirected and self-interested. My point is not that the
alleged character "Molly/Carrie" violates all laws of
logic; it is that she violates our laws of psychology. I
cannot envision Carrie as a character in a realistic novel
exhibiting Molly's self-assertive individualism. Why?
Because the literary demands of similitude require a
considerable amount of consistency. In order to present
MollylCarrie convincingly, an author would at some
point have to have Carrie sacrifice the beliefs, practices,
and values most dear to her. The result would be a
Molly/Carrie who was no longer Carrie.
There are psychological limits to the virtues, and not
all of the virtues are compatible with all of the others.
Experience suggests to me that among normal adult
humans-l shall have to be permitted to exclude Mother
Teresa from my universalization-a high degree of
autonomy is almost never found in combination with a
high degree of solicitude for others. If Frey were arguing
that autonomy was necessary for sainthood, I would be
inclined to agree with him. In the saints, we find that rare
combination of autonomy and care, but it is precisely the
extraordinariness of this combination that makes such
people saints. Normal adult humans like us have more
difficulty putting lots of autonomy together with lots of
care for others. Frey argues that autonomy is necessary
for normal adult humanhood. Carrie is a counterexample.
So even if we do not dismiss Frey's second imagined
response as granting the point at issue, it still fails. Carrie's
moral life would not necessarily be of a higher quality if
she were to become autonomous.
There is a third response open to Frey; he could deny
that Carrie is hot autonomous. If we dig deep enough
in her story, he might say, we shall see that she really
has a free will and that her desires are not determined
by irresistible forces of nature or socialization. Such
an argument might go as follows. Carrie has her own
ideas about what the good life is for her, and she is
pursuing them. She is as free as the autonomous saint
who obeys God's voice because she wants to obey God's
voice. Carrie may not have been autonomous in her
choice of workplaces, but she is autonomous in the
choice of a self-sacrificial way of life.
This response is a strong one, but its ultimate failure
may be seen by considering the following conversation
in which the philosopher tries to expose Carrie's
allegedly hidden autonomy.
Between the Species
22
Winter 1992
The Moral Irrelevance of Autonomy
point we need only open our eyes, forget our prejudices,
look intently at the foreign form of life, and fix our
attention on particular individuals within it. Our ways
of being moral may be incommensurable, but they are
not impenetrable.
The problem with Frey's approach is that the moral
life is so varied; no single standard should be relied
upon to tell us what is normal and what is not. At best
we must have a supple moral vocabulary, one equipped
with a complex and diverse family of notions. Perhaps
there are some lives utterly lacking in moral value, but
just because they do not display autonomous control is
not a good reason to begin wondering whether we may
barbecue or bash them. 29 Nor should we too readily
ascribe universality to the central virtue of our circles.
All too often this has the effect of stigmatizing other
individuals and other circles as aberrant. This should
no longer be acceptable, even if it is a long-established
practice. Feminist, religious, and utopian communities
in the West and East have ways other than Frey's for
ordering and evaluating life. 3o They may be less
aggressively individualistic or competitive or powerconscious; they may place a higher value on
interdependence or compromise or self-sacrifice. They
may attach less importance to one's personal future and
more importance to the collective past. But the mere
fact that they do not value autonomy as highly as Frey
and his boys do is no argument that they are therefore
less admirable morally.
What Frey has left unsaid-what falls into the
margins rather than the lines of his text-is the figure
of his other, the background character out of whom
Frey's autonomous self has emerged. This other, the
independent agent's "mother," as it were, is the servant,
the patient, the one who is subject to forces beyond her
control. Such forces are powerfully displayed in the
birthing process required to bring every potentially
autonomous person into the world. The mother often
suffers as the child establishes the necessary distance
from her. But for the child then to tum around and
accuse the other of moral inferiority associated with
"servility" and "weakness" is to be more than
ungrateful. It is culpable misinterpretation, using a
single standard-a son's independence-to try to
measure the value of a mother's form of labor. 31
What does Carrie have to do with animals? She is a
vivid reminder of how different we humans are from
each other, of how difficult it is to categorize our kite
flying, castle building, ice cream eating carnival using
Carrie: "Because I am naturally a person who
acts on (a) without thinking much about the
possibility of (b)."
Frey: "You are 'naturally' such a person? Where
did you get this nature?"
Carrie: "I am naturally such a person. I got my
nature from my conservative rural upbringing, from my
Bleeding Heart of Jesus Catholic tradition, from my
parents, from my religious subculture."
The dialogue gives us insight into a particular
nonautonomous character, and adds lustre and depth to
a discussion that has been pale and abstract. It shows
that someone can be not only good and nonautonomous but also intelligent and nonautonomous.
Nonautonomous? Certainly. Carrie no more chose her
caring servant-like conception of the good life than she
chose her parents.
No matter how deeply we dig beneath the layers of
influence, no matter how far we go in trying to strip
away the "outer" layers, we will not find a hidden
autonomous self who somewhere sometime seized
control of her life. That self-standing individual is not
there. 26 Both of these descriptions are true:
1. Carrie is good (that is, she lives a highly textured
moral life), and
2. Carrie is nonautonomous (that is, she does not
have control over her desires).
Because 2 is true, Carrie falls outside the line Frey
has drawn. That shows the moml irrelevance of the
line, not of Carrie. 27
Conclusion
I started with a fable about boys drawing lines on
the beach; I hope its relevance to my argument is clear.
Those of us who place overweening value on
autonomy make a dangerous and costly mistake. For
to suggest that the value of any being's life is
determined by how far that being falls from the middle
of an arbitrary circle in the sand is to denigrate the
lives of saintly folk like Carrie. 28
I do not think that my point will be easy for everyone
to see. It may be particularly difficult for those who have
spent their lives talking to autonomous boys on one comer
of the beach. But neither is crosscultural understanding
impossible---even across very wide gaps-and to see my
Winter 1992
23
Between the Species
The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
Notes
simple schemes like "in" and "out." If our fluid
relationships with each other do not yield to such
simplistic categories, how much more ill-suited such
categories must be for describing the complex web of
our relations to animals.
Philosophers have long sought to find a single
characteristic the possession of which would set us
clearly above other animals. Previously we have tried
to draw the line at the possession of a soul, or at
sentience, or purposiveness, or desire, belief,linguistic
competence, imagination, a concept of the self,
rationality, a sense of the future, or possession of moral
rights. All of these lines fail because we have such
different ways of living good lives, as Carrie plainly
shows. There is no reason to think we may kill and
barbecue Carrie just because she lacks autonomy. Nor
is there any reason to think we may kill and barbecue
cows and pigs just because they lack autonomy. 32
1 Frey holds that if the possession of moral rights entitles
one to membership in the moral circle then animals will have
to be excluded, as will those humans he and we clumsily call
"marginal." Marginal humans who lack language, beliefs, and
interests lack the equipment necessary for possessing the right
to life. Severely handicapped newborns, very severely mentally
enfeebled adults, those in persistent vegetative states, the
irreversibly comatose: all will appear-with whales, cows,
and pigs-on the wrong side of the line. By Frey's reckoning,
all of these beings lack the equipment necessary for the
possession of moral rights: language, beliefs, and interests in
the relevant sense. If they lack the necessary equipment they
cannot have moral rights. It follows that in killing such beings
we do not fail to respect their right to life.
The argument is predicated on the supposition that
possession of moral rights is necessary for inclusion in the
circle. Frey rejects the premise. See Interests and Rights:
The Case Against Animals (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1980),
especially chapters 2 and 3. Frey takes the phrase "marginal
cases" from Jan Narveson, "Animal Rights," Canadian
Journal ojPhilosophy 7 (1977): 167.
Research for the article was supported by a Faculty
Improvement Leave from Iowa State University
during 1989-1990.
2 For his arguments against the acceptability of the notion
of moral rights, see Interests, pp. 7-17, and Part ill (pp. 43·98)
of Rights, Killing and Suffering: Moral Vegetarianism and
Applied Ethics (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1983). For his
concessions about the usefulness of the notion, see ch. 9 of
Rights, "Rights, Their Nature, and the Problem of Strength,"
pp.67-82.
3 The Monist 70 (January 1987): 49-63. See, too, the series
of articles that he describes as forthcoming (and which I have
not read) for which he gives the following bibliographical
references: "Autonomy and Animals," inM. Daly,A. George,
OOs., Animals in Society: Rights and Wrongs; "Autonomy,
Proxy Agency, and Valuable Lives," in Philosophica; and
"Conceptions of the Good Life and the Value of a Life," in T.
Attig, D. Callan, L. W. Sumner, eds., Values and Moral
Standing. Frey has apparently spent enough energy trying to
erase the line drawn by rights-based approaches to the treatment
of animals. The phrase "moral rights" hardly appears in the
recent article, having been replaced by talk about the "value of
life," while talk about the "interests" ofbeings has been replaced
by discussions of their relative "autonomy."
4 Frey uses the phrase "normal adult humans" in his flIst
sentence. "Autonomy," p. 50.
S "Autonomy," p. 50. It is worth noticing that the concept
of moral rights is also central to the theories he identifies.
6 Regan, The Casefor Animal Rights (Berkeley: University
ofCalifomia Press, 1983), pp. 84-85. Cited in Frey, p. 60.
Between the S ecies
24
Winter 1992
The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
7 Frey,
acquaintances as well. If the novels are at all representative
then, TOughly seventy-five percent of all people are morally
good, but only a third of those exercise Frey's "autonomy as
control." If there are five billion people in the world. this
would mean that some two billion are nonautonomous and
lead lives of a high moral quality.
p. 51.
8 "Autonomy,"
p. 53.
9 "Autonomy,"
p. 53.
10 "Autonomy,"
p. 54.
13 In "The Value of Autonomy," The Philosophical
Quarterly 32 (January 1982): 35-44. Robert Young raises the
question of whether autonomy is always a virtue. The major
problem Young sees is that of the tyrant who uses his or her
autonomy to devise evil schemes. As will become clear, this is
not my primary objection to the concept. Young touches on
my concern, however, in his conclusion: " ... what I have said
'" does not imply that the exercise ofan individual's autonomy
may not at the same time introduce more disvalue than the
value that resides in that autonomy" (p. 44).
Frey writes: "But I do not regard all human life as of
equal value; I do not accept that a very severely mentallyenfeebled human or an elderly human fully in the grip of senile
dementia or an infant born with only half a brain has a life
whose value is equal to that of normal, adult humans. The
quality of human life can plummet ... . As the quality of
human life falls, trade-offs between it and other things we
value become possible ... " "Autonomy," p. 58.
Two points should be made here. First, from the premise
that the quality of some people's moral lives is better than
others it does not follow that the value of some people's lives
is greater than others. As Paul Taylor argues, beings with
(what Taylor calls) "inherent moral worth" have it equally,
even though the richness and texture of their lives differs.
Second, in order to account for the fact that different kinds of
beings live different kinds of lives and require different forms
of respectful treatment from us it is not necessary to say that
the lives of some of us are greater than those of others. The
twenty year old Downs syndrome patient should be treated
more paternalistically than the fully conscious autonomous
philosopher, but the difference in treatment does not entail
nor require the postulation of a difference in their respective
inherent moral worth. Cf. Taylor's Respect for Nature: A
Theory of Environmenlal Ethics (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1986).
Ned Hettinger has patiently explained this point to me.
The relevant distinction is between moral considerability or
moral standing (which a being either has or does not have)
and that of the moral quality of a being's life (which comes in
degrees and may be graded or ranked). Any being with moral
considerability has it fully, even if his life is wasting away
because of Alzheimer's disease. Clearly, even on this
hierarchical view of better and worse moral lives, a being's
being located at the bottom of the scale is in itself no reason
to think that that being may be disrespectfully treated, much
less killed, eaten, deprived of a family life, or had chemicals
poured in its eyes.
11
14 "Autonomy,"
15
"Autonomy," p. 57.
16 The quotation is from Regan's paper, ''The Case for
Animal Rights," in Peter Singer, ed., Tn Defence ofAnimals
(Oxford: Blackwell, 1985), p. 22. Quoted in Frey,
"Autonomy," p. 59.
17 "Preservative Love and Military Destruction:
Reflections on Mothering and Peace," in Mothering: Essays
in Feminist Theory, ed. Joyce Trebilcot (fotowa: Rowman
& Allenheld, 1984), p. 253. Quoted in Card, "Women's
Voices," pp. 133-134.
18 Ruddick, p. 253. Quoted in Claudia Card, "Women's
Voices and Ethical Ideals: Must we Mean What We Say?"
Ethics 99 (October 1988): 134.
19 (London: The Women's Press, 1979),p.59. Quotedin
Jean Grimshaw, Philosophy and Feminist Thinking, p. 139.
20 Carrie regards the deliberate pursuit of her own ends
independently of the needs and ends of others as something
she ought not to do. Perhaps this is because she believes that
such self-interested reflection is sin. Perhaps she thinks that
it will distract her energies from her children (with whom she
deeply identifies herself). Perhaps she believes as the British
novelist Charles Williams did, that some people have the gift
and responsibility of carrying psychological and spiritual
burdens for others. Perhaps Carrie believes as Williams and
Saint Paul did, that her life is not her own to control. "He and
we co-inhere," Williams wrote, and the New Testament puts
it even more mysteriously: "I live: yet not I but Christ liveth
in me." Whatever the explanation, Carrie's hesitance to pursue
her own independence is not unprecedented. For a
philosophical defense ofWilliams 'doctrine of Co-Inherence,
12 How many people in the world are like Carrie? I am
currently reading two realistic novels, Louise Erdrich's The
Beet Queen (New York: Henry Holt, 1986), and Iris
Murdoch's The Philosopher's Pupil (New York: Viking,
1983). Out of a total of TOughly twenty major characters in
these two contemporary works, I would call all twenty "normal
adult humans," roughly fifteen of them morally admirable
people, but only five of them autonomous in Frey's sense.
This seems a representative assessment of my nonfictional
Winter 1992
p. 57.
25
Between the Species
The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
paradigm is too individualistic to capture the most important
elements of many women's (and men's!) moral experiences.
Cf. Gilligan's In a Different Voice: PsycJwlogical Theory
and Women's Development (Cambridge: Harvard University
Press,1982), and Friedman's "Autonomy and the Split-1.£vel
Self," Southern Journal ofPhilosophy 24 (1986): 19-35.
see Charles Talliaferro, "The Co-Inherence," Christian
Scholar's Review 18 (June 1989): 333-345. The biblical
quotation is from Williams, 'The Way of Exchange," in The
Image ofthe City and Other Essays, ed. Anne Ridler (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1958). Quoted in Talliaferro, p. 334.
21 "Personal Autonomy and the Paradox of Feminine
Socialization," The Journal of Philosophy 84 (November
1987): 619-628. Meyers points out that "feminists are
justifiably suspicious of the professed fulfillment of many
traditional women. Since traditional women do not use
autonomy skills adeptly, there is no reason to believe that
they are doing what they really want to do" (p. 628). To her
credit, Meyers goes on to point out that "Conversely, however,
if an adult who has been raised to assume the tasks of
housekeeping and parenting embraces this role, feminists
would have no grounds for complaint provided that the
individual is skilled in autonomy competency" (p. 628).
Meyers is too enamored of autonomy. As Kathryn Pyne
Addelson points out in a response to the article, Meyers'liberal
approach to the lives of traditional women does not, in the end,
"respect the worlds and lives of many men, women, and
children, and they leave many of our own secular, white,
professional biases unexamined .... The fundamentalist mother
is faulted for accepting creationism uncritically, but we do not
ask about the schoolteachers' acceptance of Darwinevolutionary theory is true, is it not?" Addelson concludes
that "in one form or another, the specter of elitism re-emerges"
in Meyers' feminism. I agree. "Autonomy and Respect," The
Journal ofPhilosophy 84 (November 1987): 629.
27 Frey couId also argue that Carrie's heteronomous life-showing care for the needs of others at the potential cost of
her own independence--is irrational. I cannot here do justice
to this objection, but it is worth pointing out in passing that a
number of very rational people have recently come to the
defense of at least one nonautonomous form of ethics, the
Divine Command theory. If we assume that philosophers
who write in mainstream analytic philosophy journals are not
likely to propose irrational ideas, then the recent proliferation
of philosophical defenses of this theological ethic provides
us with some reason not to think that "ethics" is impossible
without autonomy as a central pillar. See, for example, Philip
L. Quinn, Divine Commands and Moral Requirements
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978); Robert Merrihew Adams,
"A Modified Divine CommandTheory of Ethical Wrongness,"
in Gene Outka and Iohn P. Reeder, Ir., eds., Religion and
Morality (Garden City: Anchor Press, 1973); and "Autonomy
and Theological Ethics," and "Divine Command Metaethics
Modified Again," both reprinted inAdams, The VU'tueofFaith
and Other Essays in Philosophical Theology (New York:
Oxford, 1987), pp. 123-127 and 128-143; Baruch A. Brody,
"Morality and Religion Reconsidered," in Brody, ed.,
Readings in the Philosophy ofReligion: AnAnalytic App1'O(J£h
(Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1974): 592-603; Ianine
Marie Idziak, "In Search of 'Good Positive Reasons' for an
Ethics of Divine Commands: A Catalogue of Arguments,"
Faith and Philosophy 6 (January 1989): 47-64.
22 In what follows, I am drawing on some ideas of Harry
Frankfurt's, and a lmggestion of Phil Quinn's.
23 Harry Frankfurt, ThelmporlanceofWhatWeCareAbout
(Cambridge: Cambridge Umversity Press, 1988), p. 21.
24
28 Since moral circles and the standards of judging the
good internal to them are various. it is best to accord each
human being the same kind of inherent value we attribute to
ourselves. This is the central insight of Frey's utilitarian
tradition, that each counts for one and only for one. Because
we lack a consensus on how to measure the richness of moral
life, we ought not to make the quality of moral life the basis
for deciding how to treat one another. We ought to act as if
each of us possessed equal value, respecting others as if they
were ends and never mearIS unless we have good reasons for
thinking that something is not an end.
Meyers, p. 621.
25 Nietzsche held that every person who fills the role of a
servant is necessarily self-deceived and pitiable. I have tried
to suggest why this judgment does not apply to Carrie. She
has Ii ved her life tending to the needs and desires and welfares
of others: of her children, her husband, her employers, her
brothers and sisters, their children, her neighbors, but she has
not done so in an umeflective or grudging way. She has not
"taken control" of her life or asserted her right to pursue her
own ends "free of the coercive interference of others," but
she is aware that she could do so. She flourishes with a
conception of the good life she inherited.
29 Further, making such a judgment is so momentous that
we probably should not even tempt ourselves with it unless
forced to do so. As Alan Donagan points out in The Theory
of Morality (Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1981),
the capacity of western industrialized nations to support even
the most vulnerable of humans is great. Until we are so poor
and resourceless that we must begin killing some humans we
ought not to worry about drawing lines.
26 The language itself requires us to postulate what is not
there; Descartes' unified subject reading life-options from a
menu and choosing number 23 over number II. As femimsts
from Carol Gilligan to Marilyn Friedman have argued, the
Between the Species
26
Winter 1992
The Moral Irrelevance ofAutonomy
30 Where did the idea get started that autonomy is a moral
idea which all rational persons ought to pursue and a
constitutive feature of normal adult human life? Perhaps
it was on an island, where controlling the boats that arrived
on and departed from one's shores was essential for
survival. If exercising control over one's watery
boundaries means the difference between life and death,
then control will become an important feature of that form
of life. It is also likely that certain habits will be
encouraged, habits like disciplining one's thoughts and
emotions, pursuing one's interests, deliberately formulating
a plan of life, and sticking to it. But "control" may come
at the cost of other habits, such as "release," including the
capacity to express emotion, sacrifice one's own desires,
put the physical and spiritual needs of the vulnerable above
one's own. Informal observation of the world tells me that
the first set of traits is typically found in certain individuals
(e.g., male anglophile academics), and not in others (e.g.,
female conservative Christians), and more commonly
found in certain communities (e.g., secular institutions of
higher learning in western Europe and North America),
and not in others (e.g., loosely-knit networks of Iranian
women friends). This is not surprising, of course. The
first set of virtues are those conducive to the sustenance of
certain forms of life, and the second set are those conducive
to the sustenance of other forms of life. We should not
fault one for not being the other.
Response:
Comstock on Autonomy
Leslie P. Francis
University of Utah
There are many things to say about Comstock's
paper. I want to comment on two issues: the role of
"line drawing about autonomy" in the discussion of our
treatment of animals and the conclusion that fuller
a'ltonomy might decrease the moral quality of the life
of a caring woman such as Carrie.
Comstock's basic point is that "autonomy is virtually
useless as a line telling us which beings have and which
beings do not have moral standing." The bulk of his
paper is devoted to an argument that autonomy is not
always part of a good life for human beings. aimed to
show that a line drawn in terms of autonomy between
humans and nonhumans is at best very fuzzy, But what
is the relevance of this strategy to conclusions we might
draw about our treatment of animals?
Comstock's strategy is directed to an argument for
differential treatment of humans and nonhumans which
goes like this. Defenders of the differential treatment
of humans and nonhumans rely on showing that humans
and nonhumans have different moral statuses. One
method of showing this different status is to attribute a
property to humans that nonhumans lack. Autonomy
is the property used by Frey to draw this line. But if
the line cannot be drawn, because autonomy is not of
value to all humans, then we cannot show that humans
and nonhumans have different moral statuses and thus
that it is permissible to treat them differently.
But there are crucial gaps in Comstock's strategy.
First, even if we grant that increased autonomy would
not be good for all humans, it does not follow that
autonomy is irrelevant to how we ought to treat them.
Second, there are many ways to defend differential
31 It is also to employ the sort of gendered language
feminists have taught us to recognize as rhetorical in the worst
sense. It is the worst because it sounds benign even as it
carries powerful political import. Its use has long been the
most subtle and effective tool with which one group (often
composed primarily but not exclusively of men) has, wittingly
or unwittingly, marginalized the moral experiences and
languages of other groups (often composed largely but not
exclusively of women). To continue to pursue such ways of
speaking is not profitable for those of us trying to listen "with
a different ear" to "the different voices" not only of women
but also of all those historically excluded from the moral
philosophers' games. I take the phrases from Gilligan and
Claudia Card, the latter of whom has written that "It is
important to listen to women with a dijferenJ ear, not simply
to listen for a dijferenJ voice in women." Card, "Women's
Voices," p. 134.
32In addition to the commentators whose responses follow,
I have profited from the criticisms of Ned Hettinger, Peter
List, Phil Quinn, Richard Noland, and Harry Frankfurt. I
discussed the paper with colleagues in the Philosophy
Departments at Oregon State University and Western Illinois
University; read it at the Society for the Study of Ethics and
Animals at the 1990 Pacific Division Meeting; and read it
again at a conference on animal rights at San Francisco State
University in April, 1990.
Winter 1992
DISCUSSION
27
Between the Species