A Note on "Ought Implies Can" - Kant Did Not Maintain This

It is not correct to attribute to Kant the notion that ought implies can, at least if by this is meant that we can only experience obligations for things that are within our own power to perform. I think the attribution of this sentiment to Kant is based on a misunderstanding, and has simply just been repeated enough to become standard.

I am aware of nowhere in Kant's work that argues for this in particular. Additionally, there are arguments that he gives that seem to require that this must not be a position he holds. For examples, we ought to will the Highest Good, yet we are not capable of bringing it about.

More anecdotally, I think that we can all find in our own experience of duty or guilt (respect for law generally) in cases where we are not capable of fulfilling the obligation through some action of our own; it is plausible that this is the same for Kant.

Kant does say that we can have no obligation for something that is not possible under natural conditions, but this is to say that if we cannot even cognize the state of affairs then we could not even understand any obligation to bring them about.

See Critique of Practical Reason, 5:20

Relating the Empirical to the Moral Law

This will hopefully be a brief clarification regarding the empirical and its relation to the moral law.

Kant writes of the determination of the moral law being due to a pure (non-empirical) principle. However, the empirical is related to the moral law so far as it is necessary to include empirical concepts in ones maxim (e.g., lying is a concept from experience, and with apparent meaning only in experience).

Moral laws can even contain consequences - as long as these consequences are contained in the maxim being judged.

Kant speaks of the principle of the determination of law being pure with regard to how the maxim (which contains empirical concepts, and perhaps consequences) is put in the form of universal law giving (act only according to that maxim which, etc). That the principle used in judging the moral law is pure means that this universal law giving does not rest on experience or derive from it.

The result of the judgment that produces a moral law from a maxim has characteristics that point back to the pure principle. The necessity of the law, and its categorical (non-consequential) character both relate back to the purity of the judgment - despite the judgment containing empirical content left over from the maxim that was judged.

The Highest Objective Harmony and Practical Reason

   In a previous post I considered different types of contradiction, and hoped to elaborate on one of these that was potentially more obscure: practical contradiction.  Practical contradiction depended upon the goal of a highest objective harmony, the idea of which I will elaborate in order to hopefully reveal some new considerations of practical reason.

   The possibility of the conformity of all objective employment of reason (its employment concerning objects), both in the understanding of nature, and in its application to action, is the possibility of the highest objective harmony (coherence).  There is no need for us to worry that nature will not be in conformity with itself, since it must follow certain laws necessarily.  However, concerning actions as bringing about states of affairs (as objective), we are guaranteed nothing of such a harmony save for the possibility (at least in thought) of such a harmony.

   The complete objective harmony of the practical employment of reason concerns objective states of affairs as brought about by action in a manner as consistent as nature's own laws.  This concerns all possible actors, which means that this concern with objective states of affairs also places a demand on subjects universally (so far as we think this highest objective harmony).  Any act which disrupts this objective harmony is called a practical contradiction.

   If all subjects cannot perform the same act (in the same context) then it is not compatible with a rule, and so contradicts the highest objective harmony, since such a harmony concerns the complete regularity in the production of objective states of affairs according to rules, and so demands a uniformity resulting from the laws of freedom that is comparable to the results of laws of nature. 

   When we experience duty (feel that we are called to perform or omit an action), we do not experience it as optional.  This necessary character of duty postulates our freedom, but also a regularity of this freedom as governed by laws which would make a necessary demand.  The connection of freedom with necessary duties is by means of a principle of practical contradiction which is given in a formula as the demand for objective harmony. This can be seen as another formula of the Categorical Imperative.  (There can really be an indefinite number of such formulas, since each has merely to express the sort of necessity we find in duty in a general and universal manner.)  The objective harmony can be used to illustrate the meaning of contradiction in Kant's Categorical Imperatives. I will consider this with respect to Kant's discussion of a lying promise.

   A lying promise, as Kant explains, produces a (practical) contradiction when applied to the Categorical Imperative.  Under the Categorical Imperative (law of nature formulation), a promise would always be cognized immediately with the knowledge of its not being meant, and so not as a promise, making the act of promising impossible.  We can understand the sort of contradiction which Kant has in mind more clearly in relation to the highest objective harmony, since there we considered a demand of reason concerning the maximum of regularity in all objective cognitions.

   This objective harmony may be something of a linchpin between theoretical and practical reason, and suggests that pure practical reason only emerges from a combination of theoretical reason with something else which is called on to conform to the same regularity as natural law.  Perhaps this can help give direction for the connection of the faculties which cognize ends (purposes) with theoretical reason, and which result then in the production of a pure practical reason in their combination through a synthesis of objective harmony.

Concerning A-Moral Situations

   Most situations in life lack a clear moral imperative.  Do you feel a moral compulsion regarding the manner with which you walk down the street, or is it clear what you ought to do with yourself during an elevator ride?  These a-moral situations can be easily overlooked concerning the possibility of their acquiring a moral character, and perhaps this is a problem.  I want to simply reflect on this and draw some implications that I think are interesting.

   It is possible for any situation to acquire a moral character.  We cannot predict what filling the gaps in our understanding will do to how we see situations.  However, granting that any situation may eventually be understood as moral, is there some reason why we should seek to uncover the moral character of every situation?  Before considering this more, I would like to consider just the matter of a situation acquiring a different moral character.

   My most often used example of a sudden shift in the moral character of situation is as follows: imagine a murder in progress which you feel you feel compelled to prevent by a sense of duty (we can ignore whether or not you decide to take action).  Now, imagine you hear, "Cut, cut, cut! What do you think you're doing here?  We're in the middle of a shoot!"  Clearly, you will have realized that the situation was not what you originally supposed, and while you will still feel that you should help people out when an injustice is being done to them, this was not actually a case of injustice, but acting.

   For a long time, situations like this have led me to consider some possible implications concerning the relationship between our theoretical and practical characters.  The moral character of a situation is not discovered like theoretical characters which appear, but emerge as a moral feeling in relation to the understanding of the situation (in a manner well described by Kant's Categorical Imperative).  Our duty itself is never questionable, but our understanding of the situation necessarily is unless we grant ourselves omniscience; because of this, we must ask: does a recognition of our theoretical limitations throw our determinations of duty into doubt, not because we judge incorrectly from a moral standpoint, but because we do not understand the world well enough?  Does this lead to a requirement to understand the world better?

   From the perspective of Kant's critical philosophy, this practical-theoretical feedback loop, which we are all familiar with from experience, can help us to illustrate some of Kant's picture of the relationship between our judgments more acutely.  However, from the perspective of our lives there are different difficulties we face, since we cannot wait until we omniscient before acting from fear of doing something wrong - even pursuing knowledge requires action.  

   When we expand our consideration from shifts in our moral understanding to cases that are currently without a moral determination, we have a question if we should be trying to find out the moral implications involved, and in what order and with what procedure we should go about it (if we should take any special action at all).  

   There are places in the history of philosophy that may be able to be cleared up by considering this further: Plato's determination (and Aristotle's agreement) that all things go towards the good; Descartes, in the Fourth Meditation, discussing how it would be best for every situation to be morally determined; Leibniz' determination of everything actual as being brought into its actuality by the ultimate determination of Goodness.  These things won't all be clarified in the same way, and to the same end, but considering what possible moral determination everything may potentially have, and seeing if we are constrained to feel they all do and why can shed a lot of light here.

Understanding the Question, "Why is there something rather than nothing?", Part I: Leibniz

I have been struggling with finding access, by my own means, to the question Heidegger poses in Introduction to Metaphysicsthrough the history of Philosophy. The question is not an innovation of Heidegger's, but is asked, and often answered, in the history of Philosophy.

Leibniz answers the question in what Heidegger calls the Twenty-four Statements, since, he says, there ought to be a ground for the fact that there is something. For Leibniz, it seems for there to be something requires the possibility of bringing possibilities into actuality. Since there are actual things, it is necessary that these possibilities are brought into actuality, and that whatever is the cause (the 'real ground') of this stepping into reality (coming into existence) is also the necessary ground of the fact of actualities. Of course, this ground is none other than God.

Here is an illustration of Leibniz's work here in terms of the elements involved: 1) the actual that is, and which is known; 2) the demand that we account for the actual's being instead of nothing; 3) the possible from which the actual steps into existence; 4) that which is necessary in the face of the fact that the possible does step into existence.

Any of the actual things could just as well have been nothing, and, for Leibniz, many of possibilities did not come to pass. Coming to pass is determined by God on the basis of the most good. (Goodness now is understood in a way mediated first by the fact that something is rather than not, and should be understood in terms of existence, and not our preference.) For something to not come into existence is for it to have contradicted whatever did come to pass, and also not being as good as what did come to pass.

(I must mention, in defense of Leibniz, that it seems highly important to see the choice to place goodness at the root of the decision of what should be is not arbitrary. The highest order decision about what is actual should align with the highest knowledge of it, and so should be knowledge of what is best, and ultimately good. Here, goodness should not be considered in terms of morally good, since it seems ethics is determined by Leibniz at the end of the Twenty-four Statements in terms of coming to understand the goodness of the world, and to situate our minds to not be at odds with the goodness of existence by expecting things out of it that we should not. This means that the way things are opposed to our desires should have a regulative impact on us so that we come to understand the world better and change ourselves to not be at odds with it.)

So something is, in which case it is the most good, or something is not, which is to say it contradicts the good or is less good. What does nothing mean here? Nothing is not the contradictory, or the less good, since these are still possibilities. Nothing must be understood as something else. Things have less reality if they are less likely to come into existence, and so nothing would seem to be a privation, in some degree, of goodness. So nothing here is not a mere not being actual but a privation. If this is the case, then when we look out and see that there are actual things, we can't suppose that it could have been nothing, since nothing is just privation of what is. This may give us some right to understand nothing is another sense, that is, whatever is not actual is nothing.

The dual notion of nothing we have is first, nothing as privation of goodness or contradiction with what is good, and second, nothing as not being actualized. It appears that the second approach to nothing dominates the question Leibniz answers of why there is something rather than nothing. Because he is focused on the second sense of nothing, he can see the actual in opposition to its alternative, and not just different in degree. The dividing line between something and nothing, then, is determined on the basis of there being goodness (which is our highest way of thinking the best and so the highest kind of knowledge we tend towards). But this goodness is decided on the basis of what simply is (which could have still been anything). This establishes a kind of circle that is driven by the pursuit of the highest kind of knowledge for us.

Looking at the four-fold division above, then we can note that (2) the demand that we determine the question is driven by the demand to know the highest, and so the direction of (4) how we determine what is necessary is established in this practical manner (rather than upon an analysis of the 'objectivity of the object', which is an alternative approach).

Understanding the Question: "Do you Believe in God?"

    When asked if I believe in God I have what may seem a peculiar reaction.  After many years of reading in the history of philosophy, I do not think that asking about my belief in God is meant to query my opinion about an inherently unknowable entity, nor is it meaningfully posed if it asks if I am going by the word of some few I have accepted as authorities.  When I consider what I end up thinking about to answer the question, I consider nothing apart from how I have been living my life.  Here my interest in this question is not in answer it, but in accounting for, and even justifying, my reaction to it by evaluating what the question asks.  I will be helping myself to Kant's Practical Philosophy as a standard terminology for getting at the meaning of the question about belief in God.  I will develop an account in brief of Kant which may serve as an introduction to Kant's thoughts on the interface between morals and religion.
   When asked about their belief in God, many people have an answer grounded in a position developed over the history of philosophy, and either acquired from study or environment; these positions are: Theism, A-theism, A-gnosticism.  These positions are worthy of thought, but I mean to argue that none of them can satisfy the question concerning belief in God.  Why is this? It is because I am insisting that the question properly requires one consider their own life in a particular way that needs no recourse to arguments.
   I expect it sounds strange to insist that asking if one believes in God is a question of how one lives, or perhaps it is not so strange.  In either case, I mean to provide some justification, as well as some clarity.  But, how do I justify this, and what sort of clarity will be given?
   First, in order to justify reconsidering our beliefs in God in new terms, I will first examine what it is to have an interest in God.  There is a discourse already in the work of many thinkers concerning the source of our interest in God, and just as frequently people are surprised by thinkers who assure us that all men believe in God (at least in a certain sense).  I hope to be able to justify a certain sense in which many of us may have at least a vacillating belief in God.  As I mentioned, I will be employing Kantian terminology in order to have a standard for expression rather than a whole array of terms from the tradition.  This choice was based on my own familiarity with Kant, and not because such an account could not be given from another source.  I would be very interested in showing how these terms would be applicable elsewhere in the history of philosophy, and would love to share exchange with others on this matter.
   Second, the clarity which I want to provide does not, and cannot, consist in an answer to the question for any us: ultimately, each of us must look at our own lives to see if we believe and in what way.  But I hope to produce some clarity concerning our approach to this question, as well as some maxims in dealing with it.  We should not approach this question from the perspective of metaphysics except insofar as we mean to clarify the question - we cannot answer it with any doctrine, and our continual attempts to do so only hinder our understanding of the question and deny the answer we all have available.

The Interest in God as Unknowable Entity
   There are many ways we can talk about our interest in God, and many traditions.  I am not here considering all of the different cultural representations of faith, but rather the bare possibility of taking an interest in a God.  One reason why interest in God is particularly suited for a question like this is because of how unfathomable the object of interest is.
   Consider some object we can think, but which we cannot know.  Granting that you cannot know it, or determine it in any way, consider how you may take an interest in it and first think of it.  We do not know what it is, so have no idea of its usefulness, and we also have no reason to avoid it.  In fact, we are not even thinking the object in this example, since without any determinations this unknowable object is the same as any number of unknowable objects.  'God' is a concept of such an unknowable object, yet given some additional determinations which are interesting.  How is it that such an unknowable object becomes the object that takes on such determinations?
   When I speak of something as knowable I mean, with Kant, the possibility that an object can be given in experience.  And while God is unable to be given in an experience, we are still interested in him.  How we take an interest in these sorts of objects is a task that Kant accomplishes, and which we can benefit from considering.
   We can be interested in things we can come to know because they can be given to us in a certain way.  However, with things that cannot be given to us we can still have something we take an interest in which makes an interest out of something else, and this something else may be something which cannot be given.
   The moral law is given to us through the experience of moral feeling.  We recognize a duty to act or omit action from the experience of the moral law.  What the moral law imputes to us is the possibility of acting for the sake of that duty, and not for an externally determined factor, that is, it leads to an interest in our freedom.  So far as we consider our acts, or the acts of others, to be moral, we are also considering them to be freely done.  This isn't a metaphysical proof of freedom, but it is a proof of our taking others and ourselves to be free (in a positive sense) as an element of our morals and moral discourse.
   I use this example of freedom as a postulate to illustrate how something which cannot be known can become interesting to us.  If we did not have any moral experience we also would never be concerned with ourselves as free, though we may very well consider ourselves spontaneous (freedom in a negative sense).  A similar structure is illustrated in Kant which shows how we believe in God (as well as an immortal soul).  I will illustrate it briefly:
   Reason is a faculty of seeking unconditioned unity, not only in knowledge, but in life.  If we have ends that must conflict, then they are not in unity with each other.  The Highest Good is a state where none of our ends are in conflict, and we also have all of our ends met: we are happy to the degree which we are virtuous, and since we will be perfectly virtuous we will be perfectly happy.  (I have written about Worthiness to be Happy, and it would be good to read to clarify this point.)
   When we pursue the Highest Good we are striving to be moral, and restraining our desires whenever it is necessary in order to discipline ourselves to be more inclined to do what we ought to do.  However, it is still not in our power to make nature reward us for our virtue, and so we find that we have also assumed a postulate in the midst of these activities as well: God, a being who is able to judge and reward us for our moral worthiness.  So we find here that something which we do know - our way of acting - contains an interest that we did not arbitrarily insert, but which constitutes the coherence of the pursuit of our highest aim.

The Question Concerning Belief
   There is no impartial guarantee for the existence of God given above, nor is one possible.  However, God is required whenever we are willing to bring about the Highest Good - the unity of virtue and happiness.  If we are asked if we believe in God, and see in our own lives an effort to promote the Highest Good, then that is the same thing as our believing in God.  This is why I say that when we are asked if we believe in God, we have but to look and see how we are living our lives.
   If we see ourselves as promoting the Highest Good, yet deny our belief in God, we are saying that we are trying to bring about and end which we also take to be impossible, which is a direct contradiction in our behavior.  Of course, we can fluctuate in our belief, but we can be honest about what we are postulating at any time and find that sometimes we are believers and sometimes not.
   It is very important to point out that this faithful natural attitude does not depend upon any scripture or cultural development of a particular kind.  Rather it is would appear to be the fertile field out of which such scripture and articulate philosophical positions about God (for and against) begin to develop, as well as the basis on which scripture should be interpreted.  The more we can open ourselves up to carefully thinking through these sorts of fertile contexts in our own lives, the sooner we will be able to unravel many difficulties and disputes.
   (We may want to consider a thinker like Kierkegaard here, and wonder if his description of the knight of faith could serve as material for continued reflection on faith.  It appears that one could interpret the knight of faith as maintaining exactly that we will the Highest Good, yet affirm it to be impossible.  I am not committed to such a reading, but I do think that there are some who are interested in this, and I simply want to note that I am also interested in discussion about it.)

What do we do Now?
   Classical Theism, A-theism and A-gnosticism all present evaluations of approaches to the question concerning the the existence of God.  In the above, we have realized that a belief in God is not directly concerned with His existence as the result of a doctrine, but in how we are living our lives; and the way in which we are living our lives reflects our belief.  The classical treatment of questions directly addressing the existence of God still can serve us as examples of arguments that attempt to show some limits or extensions to our knowledge, but they can never really tell anyone if they believe in God or not.
   We should definitely not forget the classical treatment of the existence of God, but we should be very clear when we are presenting it and reviewing it as a sort of refresher about what we can know, however, it should be completely dispensed with in real discussions of religion, since a religious belief in God is not the product of any subtle arguments, but is found simply in how we organize our life around the problem of the pursuit of happiness and virtue.

Appendix: Ways of Believing or Non-Believing
   It may be interesting to consider the above analysis and see if we can establish briefly a use for the terms Theism, A-gnosticism and Atheism in this context.  Of course, these names for positions will acquire an entirely different mien now that we have reinterpreted the question concerning the belief in God along the lines we have.
   It seems that all finite rational beings (at least humans) are in one of these four conditions concerning God: interest, hope, belief, or delusion.
   If we acknowledge our self-worth or worthlessness, then we are able to take interest in the possible existence of God.  This seems to be a sort of pure A-gnosticism.
    If we are desirous of happiness from our worth, then we are desirous of God, and hope for His existence.  If we act as if we will be rewarded, then we believe in God.  This seems to be a sort of pure Theism.
   If we were to strive against virtue, then it seems like we may have a reversal of Theism available to us: if we are desirous to avoid punishment from worthlessness, then we are desirous of the non-existence of God, and hope for His non-existence.  If we act as if we will not be punished for our viscousness, then we do not believe in God.  This is a sort of pure A-theism.
   If you take yourself to know, theoretically, that there is, or is not, a God, then you are deluded.  This is usually considered Fanaticism.
   Some remarks must be made here which seem interesting.  Here it appears that A-theism is being accused of immorality.  I do not mean to imply that those who call themselves A-theists because of a position they have developed or have received from the history must be immoral, but rather that insofar as so-called A-theists are moral, I would probably consider them to be A-gnostic or even Theistic in the terms developed above.  It is important to keep in mind that these re-definitions of traditional terms are meant to express non-doctrinal positions which need not be articulated in order to be inhabited. 

Understanding 'Worthiness to be Happy' in Kant

   When reading Kant's practical philosophy I have struggled how best to understand how 'self-worth', and 'virtue', are understood also as 'worthiness to be happy'. Kant seems to think that it is clear, but I do not think I am alone in my difficulties. I hope that sharing my own reflections on the topic can help continued progress in understanding Kant's practical philosophy.
   My overarching concern with 'worthiness' relates to what Kant calls the Highest Good, which is the the idea of possessing happiness in proportion to virtue (this is basically theodicy). Kant understands virtue as worthiness to be happy, and so the Highest Good could also be formulated as happiness in accordance with worthiness to be happy. If we do not correctly understand what worthiness to be happy means, or fail to understand how merely being good renders us worthy of happiness in our own eyes, then we are not completely clear on what Kant means by virtue, and therefore, we also do not understand the Highest Good, either.
   This problem may also be valuable opportunity for examining a style of reading, since I will need to employ some kind of technique to understand worthiness to be happy. Therefore, to begin I am going to discuss my approach to this hermeneutical problem.

Interpretive Method
   Because Kant does not provide a lot of detailed interpretation of worthiness, or a derivation of it, it is probably safe to assume (ex hypothesis) that its meaning should be fairly straight forward. I generally think we all have a sense of justice in punishment and reward. However, giving metaphysical accounts gets more and more difficult as the object being accounted for becomes more 'straight forward'. Personally, I think that Kant may not have recognized the limits of his discussion of worthiness to be happy (or I have not found the passage he makes its necessity precise enough); I also think that Kant did not have a method for working out this question until the third critique, and in light of that I plan to approach this question in light of the third critique. I will explain this briefly.
   The third critique examines principles which concern reflective judgments. In short, reflective judgments tell us about the subject, as opposed to objects. The third critique does not examine all cases of determination of the subject, but only the necessary connection between our faculties as revealed in certain experiences (beauty, usefulness). The procedure is generally as follows: if there is an experience which constrains us to think the subject to be some way, then we have found a necessary determination of the subject. Any necessary judgment requires a transcendental principle. We will examine 'worthiness to be happy' as a type of determination of the subject that is unavoidable in the experience of self-worth.
   Such an analysis could be done, with much benefit, on other topics in Kant. One of these that may stand in most need would be the unity of apperception.

Self-Worth as Un-concealing of Worthiness to be Happy
   Worthiness to be happy is identified with our moral worth, or self-worth. To put this in another way: when we do what we ought to, we feel good about ourselves, and this good feeling is also a feeling of our worthiness to be happy. This sense of self-worth is quotidian, and I assume the feeling of it is available to all readers such that we can appraise it on our own in relation to how we think of worthiness. But first, we can continue to clarify.
   Kant takes there to be two ways in which things are valued: as means and as ends. So far as something is (or I am) useful as a means to some end, the thing (or I) have instrumental value for that end, which is valued. On the other hand, so far as I do what I ought to, then I have an inner worth (moral worth, or self-worth) which is indifferent to the results of my actions; this is what it means to be worthy as an end in myself. It is only in this latter, inner worth that we will seek to understand worthiness.
   Another question we might ask is - and this will sound phenomenological - how does worthiness to be happy show itself? Worthiness to be happy is something attributed to the subject. It shows itself through my self-worth arising from an action I performed. How does this self-worth constrain us to think the subject?
   Worth is always of some value, and we might ask if worth (be it from material or formal principles) should always be thought as connected with purposiveness (thinkable in terms of what for). If so, with self-worth I think a purpose (a what for) pertaining to myself. However, it is a purpose that is ambiguous, a peculiar usefulness which I cannot use for myself. I say this because we do not know any technique of using our self-worth to attain anything.
   If something is useful for us, and pertains to our happiness in some way. This usefulness, uncovered by self-worth, then relates to happiness. To put this in another way, our self-worth gives rise to the thought of our own useful, which is always for our happiness. We can see an interpretation of worthiness to be happy emerging.
   I would like to clarify the analysis so far, doubling back to two points in particular: first, worth always brings along with it the thought of purposiveness; second, that something useful for us always pertains to our happiness.

Clarifications
   Purposiveness is the suitability of something for some end. For example, when we experience the force of the moral law, we experience the suitability of the subject to the duty commanded by the law. Above we have mentioned that when we act for the sake of duty and feel self-worth that this value of ourselves is also the thought of ourselves as useful. However, through self-worth we do not also think a maxim or technique for use of ourselves to some end. Furthermore, there is no way we can guarantee that the world, which obeys laws of nature, will have any means to make us happy from this self-worth, since it is the result of laws of freedom. This worth cannot be manipulated or made use of by us. Is it coherent to say that something can be determined as purposive, and suited to some end, without any way of knowing how to use it for that end?
   This seems coherent, since I can suppose anything to be useful to the end of happiness without yet knowing how to make use of it. In fact, this simply is a heuristic for thinking the object according to a plan to know more about its usefulness. Perhaps we can add this additional clarification to our interpretation above and see if it is clearer: worthiness to be happy is the subject being made aware of his suitability for happiness by his self-worth arising from obedience to the moral law; this is a heuristic for coming to know more about how obedience to the moral law makes us suited for happiness, that is, it sets up an interest in the subject in the happiness that it might attain through virtue.
   We may recognize an additional clarification here. Since duty makes us useful to the ends of some command, does this mean that duty itself implies that the end it supplies is useful to us? No, since the representation of the suitability does not include any ends which we might take, and so which might contribute to our happiness. We do not find worth, that is, use, in the moral law, but we respect it.
   Now I want to clarify the second point which is what I mean when I say that something useful for us always pertains to our happiness.
   By happiness I understand when something has happened in accordance with my desire. When something is useful, but not worth anything to us, then it is thought as having a purpose in some relation to an end and means, but it is not useful for us. When something is useful for us, then it also has a worth because it can contribute to our happiness. A thing can contribute to our happiness when its purpose is suited to something we desire, and, therefore, aims at our happiness.

Conclusion
   In the analysis of worthiness to be happy, moral law, self-worth, happiness and an interest in our self-worth - all important in Kant's practical thought - have been represented in their relationships, and hopefully this has provided some clarity and distinctness to many of these concepts. However, it may be helpful to illustrate once more the connection of these concepts: self-worth, which is the result of acting out of respect of the moral law, is the same thing as a consideration of our usefulness to ourselves for happiness, which is always an interest to us. We can add to these connections the Highest Good.
   The usefulness to ourselves thought in self-worth is virtue, and it contains no maxim that we can adopt which will fulfill the value of the will. Therefore, for this value to be redeemed, intervention is requires. If this intervention is within the bounds of nature, and due to respect from other finite rational beings, then we find that we can be benefited by others due to respect for us. However, the Highest Good involves perfect happiness, which means that nature is entirely bent to my desire (will and wish). For this we must think a force at least as great as nature, but also capable of respect and so capable of judgment. Therefore, it cannot simply be nature. This entity must be a will with enough power to control nature entirely. This is the postulate of God.
   I hope to further consider the postulate of God in another post, by asking what it means to be asked if you believe in God.

Showing Kant is not Berkeley

Kant exerts a lot of effort showing that his Philosophy is not akin to Berkeley's Idealism, but still most readers seem far too inclined to not believe him. As I am recently working through the first Critique with a group I find it an interesting challenge to consider how best to show how Kant resolves concerns about Berkeleyan Idealism. A route that I am considering, and which I will present briefly, is concerned with introducing Practical Reason much earlier in order to lead the reader away from the perceived Idealism. (In order to be brief I am required to assume some knowledge on the part of the reader. I am happy to answer any questions in the comment section.)

We can show that when we are concerned with knowing objects we are restricted to how they appear, but readers of Kant become concerned and suspect that this is a positive denial of 'real objects' (things-in-themselves). I feel sympathy for both Kant and those who are concerned with a potential Idealism. Kant clearly does not want to banish our (intelligible) considerations of things-in-themselves, he only wants to make clear that there are different constraints (and grounds) when reasoning about such things. However, because the first Critique does not entirely set out a new way reasoning about things-in-themselves his readers can, on the one hand, feel like something has been taken from them, and on the other hand, feel like the incomplete assurances Kant gives about things-in-themselves are lapses into Dogmatism. In relation to the former of these, a reaction typical for much philosophy is evoked: we recognize the validity of what is said, but at the same time consider it impractical and to be ultimately ignored. The interesting thing in Kant's case is that he agrees entirely, and it is exactly through Practical Reason that we will attempt to account for this apparent gap.

Now, it may be difficult to discuss Practical Reason in Kant from the very first, and it certainly would have been distracting if it had been fully introduced in the middle of the Critique of Pure Reason, but once one has established a basic understanding of the limits of the first Critique (objects of possible experience), then it may make sense to cast a glance at the practical.

Discussing the practical may help to show how we think the 'real objects' (things-in-themselves) in a satisfactory manner while still restricting our knowledge in the manner of the first Critique. Before I continue I should briefly exposit a distinction between Theoretical and Practical relevant for this discussion. Practical Reason does not concern what is, but rather what ought to be; this can be very confusing at first, and so should be explained. One way to start introducing these notions of 'is' and 'ought' is to consider verification.

When I measure something, I do not look to the things-in-themselves, but to the appearances. If I estimate the length of a straw at 8 inches, and measure it at 9 inches, I correct my judgment about the length of the straw and defer to the results of the measurement. This is how things work with theoretical knowledge. However, when I understand something ought to be, it is not undermined when I look to the world and find that it is not so. Just because there are murders does not tell us that we are wrong to say murders ought not be. This is meant to illustrate that Theoretical Reason and Practical Reason are not in conflict while still inhabiting the same experience. Each side grounds a different mode of our experience.

With Theoretical Reason we have the goal of bringing about a unity of our knowledge, through Practical Reason we have the goal of bringing about a unity in our life.

Now, after introducing these ways of thinking we can face a problem: how does the Practical foster a concern for the thing-in-itself such that we would be justified in want to know it theoretically?

We come to know the world theoretically through a continual process of revision. How well we understand the world has advantages for us in acting (which is practical, though not moral). It is not hard to see that we would try to continue to interpret and study the world in order to, at least, have a greater advantage in it. However, this does not yet demand a knowledge of things-in-themselves. Matters of skill resolve themselves in experience, and if a plan does not work out we have to change our way of proceeding; this places 'skill' in the realm of Theoretical Reason, whereas something moral is not justified by success.

What ought to be may not be determined by what is, but our understanding of what is plays a role in determining which moral law applies. When we recognize this, our continued progress in understanding the appearances as well as we can are found to have moral implications. What use is knowing what one ought to do if one does not understand what is?

A rehearsal of Macbeth could involve a murder scene that, by appearances, may be indistinguishable from a real murder, yet there is no duty to break up a play rehearsal; this example is meant simply to show how a better understanding of the world does not determine what ought to be, but sets the conditions for the application of different rules. We bring our life to a unity in a different way when we watch Macbeth and when we witness an actual murder in progress.

If we take ourselves to find ourselves to have a duty to understand the World, then it seems that we must postulate that there ought to be a way that the world is, and that such a world is able to be understood by us. This 'World' could never be known theoretically, nor does it need to be. It is a condition (postulate) for us in performing our duty of learning how the world is, therefore the 'World' of things-in-themselves is granted practical reality, since not just a regulative principle of how things are is required by our duty to rightness, but a settled way things are.

So, we can return to how Kant is not like Berkeley. It may be the case that when we are absorbed in our theoretical understanding, we really are better off referring to appearances (and possible ones) as a matter of clarity. And there is no purely theoretical need to discover anything about things-in-themselves. However, we really do care about the real objects, and Kant can provide a compelling way to show how we really do have a concern with these objects - as a postulate of practical reason which guides a theoretical outlook for moral ends. That is, we are practically justified in thinking things-in-themselves in order to evaluate how to understand the world, since this influences what we ought to do. This goes some way to helping us understand how Practical Reason relates to Theoretical Reason in how we seek to attain a unity in our life between knowledge and duty.

NOTE: the actual interpretation of the world is glossed over here, as it is not a strictly theoretical or practical affair. Because ends (purposes) are involved, the best suggestion of how to begin consider this in Kant seems to be the Critique of (the Power of) Judgment; in Kant's first Critique, the Ideal of Reason seems to be the section to examine.

(Disclaimer for students of Berkeley: I am assuming Kant's interpretation of Berkeley for the purposes of this article. I am interested, personally, in how Berkeley might be better understood, but I admit I have not put in the whole effort required as of yet. Currently the material I have gathered to begin investigating Berkeley is first, the relation between prima materia andlogos, and second, considering how to best understand perception in his dictum 'esse est percipi aut percipere', i.e., is 'perception' here similar to how Leibniz speaks of it?)

Does Kant have a Prescriptive Ethics?

"But who would even want to introduce a new principle of all morality and, as it were, first invent it? Just as if, before him, the world had been ignorant of what duty is or in thoroughgoing error about it." (Critique of Practical Reason, Preface)

"Do you really require that a mode of knowledge which concerns all men should transcend the common understanding, and should only be revealed to you by philosophers?" (Critique of Pure Reason, A831 B859)

   Prescriptive (or Normative) Ethics are often understood as 1) deciding what is right or wrong on a case by case basis according to some procedure, and 2) developing general theories of such a procedure. Kant is often read as having a Prescriptive Ethics with a unique decision procedure that competes with decision procedures of other Prescriptive theories, such as Utilitarianism in its various flavors. I maintain that this understanding of Kant is completely wrongheaded: there is no decision procedure created by Kant; Kant does not use a procedure to determine what things are right or wrong. Because of this I often call Kant a Descriptivist, but this overcorrection is not technically correct, since his pure moral philosophy is not just an empirical investigation into what people generally have said is right or wrong in history (this empirical study Kant calls 'moral anthropology' in the Preface to the Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals). Even saying that Kant does a sort of Meta-Ethics, which traditionally deals with what counts as morality or what 'morality' means, does not properly describe what his project is.
   Construing all three of these terms (Prescriptive, Descriptive and Meta-Ethical) in a new way may help us to to get a sense of what Kant is doing. (I am not proposing redefining these terms generally, but only in the scope of this paper to highlight a certain understanding of Kant.)
   Kant's Ethics are Prescriptive in the sense that they recognize that we experience categorical judgments pertaining to morality. What this refers to is that the starting point of morality for Kant is 'duty', or what it's like to know what you ought to do. Prescription in this sense is not determined by any particular person, but rather is something experienced.
   Kant's Ethics are Descriptive in the sense that they try to give a formulation of the general form of 'duty' (what it's like to know what you ought to do). Just as the first critique looks at how experience of objects is possible, the second critique looks at how the experience of 'duty' is possible.
   Kant's Ethics are Meta-Ethics in the sense that they are interested in determining something formal. We begin with 'duty' and then abstract anything experience contributes. If we want to see ethics in action, however, we must look at a specific case. When we ad the specific case, we are also contributing a number of empirical interpretations, which may lead to disagreements - however, not disagreements as to the form of law, but to its particular judgments. The important thing here is that the form is constant, and so deliberation is possible between agents.
   Kant intends his Practical Philosophy to be a formal representation of common reason, and so we should have an interpretation that stays close to that guiding principle. This, however, is only one small step in clarifying Kant's Practical Philosophy.