Before I go on, I should clarify what I mean by morality. This is a notoriously difficult and dangerous term, all the more so because it is used so widely, and, as with any term or concept, once academics get their hands on it the picture becomes even murkier. In this book I shall follow my earlier work on morality in teaching (e.g., Buzzelli & Johnston, 2002). I use morality to refer to that (whether more or less coherent) set of a person’s beliefs which are evaluative in nature, that is, which concern matters of what is good and what is bad, what is right and what is wrong. I further take morality to be both individual and social. It is individual in that all moral beliefs are mediated through particular people—there is no “morality” without it being instantiated by individuals. It is social in two important senses. First, strong social forces operate on individual moralities, in the form of religious, political, and other beliefs that are shared to a greater or lesser extent by groups of people and encoded in various forms—for example, in religious texts. Second, although the moral values that a person holds may in some abstract sense be independent of those around her, in practice our morality becomes interesting only when our values are played out in social settings—when our inner beliefs are converted into
actions that affect others. Rather than worrying about the extent to which morality is individual or social—that is, seeing this as an either-or choice—I suggest that in fact morality exists precisely in the interplay between the personal and the social.
In this respect, my vision of morality is reminiscent of recent accounts of culture (e.g., Holland, Lachicotte, Skinner, & Cain, 1998; Strauss & Quinn 1997) in which culture, traditionally an impersonal thing outside the individual, is instead seen as both acognitive and a social force. Strauss and Quinn (1997), for example, argued that cultural meanings cannot be explained “unless we see them as created and maintained in the interaction between the extrapersonal and intrapersonal realms” (p. 8); they wrote further that although “the dynamics of these realms are different,” the boundary between them is
2 This is an educational application of Aristotle’s claim, in the Nicomachean Ethics, that “every art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and pursuit, is thought to aim at some good” (Aristotle, 1926, p. 1).
very much “permeable” (p. 8). My view of morality offers a parallel with Strauss and Quinn’s vision of cultural meanings: I see morality as neither a purely individual nor a purely social phenomenon but as existing at the meeting point between the individual and the social, of cognition and community. Furthermore, also like culture, it is not a fixed set of values but, while it may have certain relatively firmly anchored points, to a significant extent it is negotiated both within the individual and between individuals. This was clearly the case in Peter’s dilemma: His decision was a moral one, but it emerged from the interplay between the beliefs and values that he brought to the situation and a highly complex set of factors arising from the social and political environment in which he found himself. This brings me to another characteristic of morality as I conceive it in this book. Although certain beliefs may be absolute, I see most moral issues (dilemmas, conflicts, problems) as being fundamentally dependent on context; that is, because morality exists at the intersection between inner beliefs and social situations, the nature of those
situations is of crucial importance. I follow Nel Noddings (1984) in believing that morality is deeply colored by “the uniqueness of human encounters” (p. 5). In this book, the discussion of moral values centers around real-life situations from the work of language teachers. I believe strongly that morality cannot in any interesting or meaningful sense be reduced to unconditional rules of the type “always do X” or “one should never do X to Y.” Let me give an example of the way in which moral judgments are fundamentally affected by context. A few years ago, a Korean woman whom I will call Hae-young took my methods class. Hae-young chose to write her final paper on whole-language instruction. Though I take a process-writing approach with assignments such as this one, Hae-young was very late in giving me even the first draft; it was almost the end of the semester. The paper she gave me was perhaps two thirds taken word for word from the sources she had used, often without acknowledgment. In other words, it seemed to be a clear case of plagiarism. I had encountered a similarly egregious case a couple of years
before, in which a Japanese student had copied long passages from a textbook. I was angry with that student and, generally speaking, I have little sympathy for those guilty of plagiarism. But I somehow felt that Hae-young’s case was different. I called her to my office and explained the problem with her paper. Hae-young seemed genuinely surprised by what I had to say; though I cannot prove it, I was convinced that her bewilderment was real. She truly did not understand the American requirement that the language of a paper be her own, especially since she was largely just reporting on the research and opinions of others. She had time to go through one round of revisions before the end of the semester. The new version of the paper was still 50% acknowledged or unacknowledged quotations. At this point, the deadline for final drafts was well passed, yet something led me to continue working with Hae-young. We met again, went through more revisions, then again, and then again. In all, Hae-young went through five or six versions of her paper, as our work together extended way beyond the end of the class; both of us seemed
determined to get it right. In the end, Hae-young finally produced a paper that was, in my estimation, her work rather than a patchwork of the work of others; both of us breathed a sigh of relief.
actions that affect others. Rather than worrying about the extent to which morality is individual or social—that is, seeing this as an either-or choice—I suggest that in fact morality exists precisely in the interplay between the personal and the social.
In this respect, my vision of morality is reminiscent of recent accounts of culture (e.g., Holland, Lachicotte, Skinner, & Cain, 1998; Strauss & Quinn 1997) in which culture, traditionally an impersonal thing outside the individual, is instead seen as both acognitive and a social force. Strauss and Quinn (1997), for example, argued that cultural meanings cannot be explained “unless we see them as created and maintained in the interaction between the extrapersonal and intrapersonal realms” (p. 8); they wrote further that although “the dynamics of these realms are different,” the boundary between them is
2 This is an educational application of Aristotle’s claim, in the Nicomachean Ethics, that “every art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and pursuit, is thought to aim at some good” (Aristotle, 1926, p. 1).
very much “permeable” (p. 8). My view of morality offers a parallel with Strauss and Quinn’s vision of cultural meanings: I see morality as neither a purely individual nor a purely social phenomenon but as existing at the meeting point between the individual and the social, of cognition and community. Furthermore, also like culture, it is not a fixed set of values but, while it may have certain relatively firmly anchored points, to a significant extent it is negotiated both within the individual and between individuals. This was clearly the case in Peter’s dilemma: His decision was a moral one, but it emerged from the interplay between the beliefs and values that he brought to the situation and a highly complex set of factors arising from the social and political environment in which he found himself. This brings me to another characteristic of morality as I conceive it in this book. Although certain beliefs may be absolute, I see most moral issues (dilemmas, conflicts, problems) as being fundamentally dependent on context; that is, because morality exists at the intersection between inner beliefs and social situations, the nature of those
situations is of crucial importance. I follow Nel Noddings (1984) in believing that morality is deeply colored by “the uniqueness of human encounters” (p. 5). In this book, the discussion of moral values centers around real-life situations from the work of language teachers. I believe strongly that morality cannot in any interesting or meaningful sense be reduced to unconditional rules of the type “always do X” or “one should never do X to Y.” Let me give an example of the way in which moral judgments are fundamentally affected by context. A few years ago, a Korean woman whom I will call Hae-young took my methods class. Hae-young chose to write her final paper on whole-language instruction. Though I take a process-writing approach with assignments such as this one, Hae-young was very late in giving me even the first draft; it was almost the end of the semester. The paper she gave me was perhaps two thirds taken word for word from the sources she had used, often without acknowledgment. In other words, it seemed to be a clear case of plagiarism. I had encountered a similarly egregious case a couple of years
before, in which a Japanese student had copied long passages from a textbook. I was angry with that student and, generally speaking, I have little sympathy for those guilty of plagiarism. But I somehow felt that Hae-young’s case was different. I called her to my office and explained the problem with her paper. Hae-young seemed genuinely surprised by what I had to say; though I cannot prove it, I was convinced that her bewilderment was real. She truly did not understand the American requirement that the language of a paper be her own, especially since she was largely just reporting on the research and opinions of others. She had time to go through one round of revisions before the end of the semester. The new version of the paper was still 50% acknowledged or unacknowledged quotations. At this point, the deadline for final drafts was well passed, yet something led me to continue working with Hae-young. We met again, went through more revisions, then again, and then again. In all, Hae-young went through five or six versions of her paper, as our work together extended way beyond the end of the class; both of us seemed
determined to get it right. In the end, Hae-young finally produced a paper that was, in my estimation, her work rather than a patchwork of the work of others; both of us breathed a sigh of relief.
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